Hello Friends!

Yes, I am alive...I'm sorry that I left you for so long. I was so busy trying to study and pass my licensing test that I just couldn't dedicate any time to writing. But the good news...glorious news...is that I PASSED! Woohoo, career change is in full swing!

So I have to give a big shout out to Gothina! She really helped me with some of the stuff you are going to read at the end of this chapter! You rock girl!

Thanks to everyone for being patient and a big thanks for all the reviews and follows. I hope I haven't lost too many of you with my long absence but I assure you that it was necessary.

Please forgive any mistakes, I posted this in a rush.

Enjoy!

Reid opened the bathroom door and walked straight into a wall of black cotton fabric. The muscular body belonging to his boss was giving off an air of seriousness. The younger agent felt the urge to circumvent his superior and avoid what was sure to be an awkward conversation. Unfortunately that option was taken away from him when the other man cleared his throat and said, "Reid, follow me."

The red-eyed genius kept his head bowed and followed behind Hotch as he was escorted to the local police chief's office. The older agent opened the door and allowed Reid to walk inside ahead of him. Spencer immediately walked over to the narrow window that was carved into the center of the wall behind the big mahogany desk. Once he got there he grabbed the plastic rod hanging in the upper right hand corner and twisted it around, opening the plastic blinds in order to allow some light to spill into the dreary room.

Behind him, Reid could hear Hotch shutting the door soundly upon his entry, ensuring their privacy. He knew that the unit chief was going to want to discuss what had just happened in the conference room but Spencer didn't feel collected enough to go into it with the other man. So, in the hopes of putting off the coming conversation, Reid shifted his posture into what was clearly a closed off stance.

Unfortunately, Aaron was not deterred by the genius's hunched shoulders and dipped head. The superior knew that this wasn't a discussion that could wait and he needed to set the situation straight with Reid before more damage could be done.

"Reid," Hotch called, hoping the doctor would turn around and face him, "I wanted to let you know that Agent West has been relieved of his duties and I've sent him back to Quantico on the next flight out. Once he gets back Cruz will be contacting him to set up his hearing date and in a matter of days he will be officially discharged from the bureau."

The doctor merely shrugged his shoulders in response and said a quiet, "Okay."

The unit chief allowed the room to descend into palpable silence as he waited for the genius to make the next move.

It seemed like they stood there for five minutes as the doctor fully digested the information. Finally, he turned around with his hands wrapped around his waist in a self-hug, "Is that all?"

The gruff man cleared his throat and steadied his gaze on the honey-brown eyes, "No. There is one more thing."

Reid visibly swallowed, thinking that his superior was about to scold him for the way he handled the situation West.

"I wanted to apologize."

Hotch watched as the boy's already large eyes grew even wider.

"Apologize? F-for what? You weren't the one who dru-, uh…messed with my coffee."

"No, I know that. What I need to apologize for is letting you down throughout this whole debacle," Hotch said straightforwardly.

Reid's brow furrowed in response, clearly trying to decipher what his superior was saying, "You were only –"

"No, don't even say it. Don't say that I was only doing my job. Because it's not my job to follow procedure without question…it's to have your back regardless of what the FBI doctrines of protocol say. Something that I clearly didn't do and look what happened."

"Hotch…you couldn't have predicted that West was going to do something so…so extreme. Even I didn't expect it, and I've been dealing with people like him my whole life," Reid argued, touched by the other man's words.

"But you shouldn't have to deal with it as an adult…besides, my solution to have you two work out your differences by working and rooming together didn't help matters."

"Yeah, it really didn't," Reid responded wryly.

"Well, I hope you can accept my apology and I want you to know that I am here for you. I'll be doing all that I can to ensure that West receives the proper consequences for his actions and that he'll never work in the FBI again," Hotch pledged.

The genius grimaced the moment the other man mentioned the fact that he would be there for Reid. The comment hit a sore spot in the younger man's mind and he immediately shoved up his walls again. He had heard those words from his supposed friends too often before. They were always a warning sign that he was about to be let down again. "You don't need to do that. I'm sure that Agent Cruz will handle everything appropriately."

Hotch furrowed his brow, "Of course I do. I let you down once. I'm not going to do it again."

Reid shrugged as his face remained expressionless at the other man's passionate vow. "It doesn't matter. Really…it doesn't. Anyways, shouldn't we get back to the others? There's still an unsub out there roaming the streets and I can assure you she isn't stopping just because of my drama."

The profiler didn't wait for a response as he pushed past the unit chief, leaving Aaron Hotchner dumbfounded in his wake.

Rossi was escorting a fuming Agent West to gate A3 after they had gone back to the hotel to collect the man's items.

"You don't need to babysit me. I can get on a plane by myself," West huffed at the gruff Italian.

"Your actions over the past couple of weeks would suggest otherwise," Rossi quipped as they approached their destination. "Anyways, I really want to make sure you get to the right place. Wouldn't want you getting lost or missing your flight out."

Damien rolled his eyes, "God! It's not like I'm going to run back to the police station and enact my revenge on the twerp."

A brown eyebrow rose in response, "So you are thinking of revenge?"

"What? No…I said I wasn't going to-"

"Ahh…but the fact that you brought it up at all means you are thinking about getting even," Rossi deduced.

"You can stop profiling me, old man. I'm not stupid."

"Again, your –"

"God, spare me," Damien said, rolling his eyes in disdain as he flopped down in a chair by the gate.

Rossi stayed in a standing front of the disgraced man, "You know what I don't get?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me."

The grizzled Italian gave a half smile at the other man's attempt at being a smartass, "I just don't understand why you felt the need to mess with Agent Reid. If you are as talented as you think you are than your skills would have made themselves apparent eventually. We would have recognized you as an asset if you truly turned out to be one."

West scowled, "What I don't understand is how you are all so swayed by that kid. Sure, I get that he is a walking encyclopedia but his social skills are a zero. You really can't tell me that he is a benefit when it comes to dealing with the public or LEOs. But you guys are never going to realize that if he sticks around. You and your team go out of your way to shelter him and in the process you're masking the fact that he is a liability not an asset. I, on the other hand, am the whole package and would have been everything that he isn't for your team. We would have been unstoppable."

"See, it's your narcissistic tendencies that are clouding your judgment. Our team is everything it needs to be. We run like a well-oiled machine. Everyone on it has their own strengths and weaknesses and it's our ability to count on each other that allows for no gaps in our skillset," Rossi corrected the conceited man. "And honestly, you would've never lasted the whole trial period. Your inability to work in a team atmosphere was already beginning to shine through even without taking your dislike of Reid into account."

The other man sat up straight in the chair and sputtered, "My-my inability? I worked perfectly fine with my last team! I am still good friends with all of those agents and they would attest to my teamwork skills any day!"

Rossi held up his hands, unwilling to argue his observations with the other man, "Would they? Or were they just too intimidated by you to really admit how they felt?"

West could feel his temper snap at the man's last question. He stood up and squared his shoulders, ready to tell the smug agent what he really thought. His finger was just raising up to point at the man's face when a chipper voice pierced the air, "Now boarding group A."

"Looks like it's time for you to go," Rossi commented, his eyes perceptively boring into the Damien's.

West's eyes flashed as he realized that Rossi had shut down the conversation. He reached down and grabbed his bag before turning around to stalk off toward the gate.

"Oh and West," Rossi called, "if I were you, I'd start looking in the classifieds for a new career."

Not deigning to answer, Damien continued on his way toward the boarding zone. He never once looked back but he could feel David's eyes on him throughout his whole journey. Once he was safely ensconced in his coach passenger seat he pulled out his phone and dialed an old familiar number, "Hey Baker. You are never going to believe what happened."

After the awkward apology the team reorganized and focused solely on the case at hand. They struggled with finding any viable leads and a break in the case didn't come until a young man came into the station and claimed to have some pertinent information.

Apparently the youth had been working for quite some time at a local restaurant as a cook. He enlightened the team to the fact that lately he had been getting a weird vibe off of one of the waitresses. She seemed to be completely infatuated with him and she had been popping up at the places he frequented after work. The kid described how he had begun to feel uncomfortable whenever she was around him and that she was getting territorial of him around his fellow coworkers. It took her asking him an invasive question at work earlier that day for him to finally make the connection.

As it turned out, each of the victims had been someone that he had interacted with over the past few weeks. One of the girls was his local barista that he flirted with whenever he purchased coffee. The other turned out to be someone that he had danced with one night at the club, and another happened to be a shopping assistant he used when buying clothes.

Using the information the young man provided and tapping into Garica's computer skills allowed the team to easily apprehend the young woman and bring her in for questioning. Once they got her back to the station the team sent Morgan and JJ in to put the heat on the girl. In the end she gave a full confession, admitting to killing off what she called the competition. It turned out that she had become so enraptured with the cook that she had convinced herself that he was interested in her. Her infatuation had taken such a hold on her that she was soon following the man around wherever he went. When she saw him interacting with other women she became so incensed that she felt the need to do away with them.

The team left not too long after the confession, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the outcome but unhappy that a woman's irrational obsession led to the senseless deaths of so many innocents.

The flight home was pretty glum as each profiler became lost in their own thoughts due to finally having the time to reflect on the former probationary agent's actions.

Reid isolated himself in the back of the plane, making sure to face away from the others to avoid their stares. The genius was confused and needed time to consider the implications of what had occurred. He desperately wanted to believe Hotch and Morgan when they said that they were there for him, but their actions over the past few years stated otherwise. On top of that, he was still having a hard time wrapping his brain around the fact that again he had been drugged against his will.

Luckily, the team left him alone throughout the whole flight. Perhaps they each realized his need for self-reflection or maybe they had come to a group consensus that he needed some time to himself. Either way, he was thankful that no one had come over and tried to force him to talk. He just wasn't ready for another emotional confrontation, especially in front of everyone.

Once the plane landed he waited for everyone to disembark before he got out of his seat. He slowly gathered his items and trudged down the stairs into the night cool night air. Ahead of him he could see the team making their way to their respective cars, determined to get home before their significant others went to bed. The only person that seemed to even realize that he wasn't among them was Rossi, who was turned toward the jet, watching the genius's sluggish moves.

By the time Reid had made it over to the parking lot everyone besides Rossi had already left. "I guess you drew the short straw," Reid observed as he approached the Italian.

Rossi smiled, knowing the young man had figured out the plan, "Actually, I volunteered to drive you home."

"What? Were you guys text messaging the whole flight home to figure out who would take care of me?" Reid huffed.

"You know it," Rossi confirmed as he opened the door of his Jaguar, ushering Reid in.

"Thanks," the doctor said as the door closed. He watched as Rossi walked around the vehicle and got into the driver's seat. "But you guys don't have to worry about me. I'll be perfectly fine after a good night's sleep."

"Yeah yeah…because sleeping is going to help you get over another agent drugging your coffee. Oh, and that's on top of the fact that you feel like the team has abandoned you," the older man chided, pressing the gas pedal down to the floor.

Reid's mouth dropped open as he turned to face Rossi, "Morgan told you guys?"

Rossi nodded silently as he focused driving the car twenty miles over the speed limit down the road.

"I-I…I didn't mean…he took that the wrong way," the genius said, groping for words that would help him bury this problem down beneath the ground.

"Sure he did," was all Rossi said.

The younger profiler crossed his arms over his chest and flung his back into the seat behind him. He closed his eyes tightly and wished he was already at home in bed. "I-I was just upset. Agent West…he really caught me off guard and…and I didn't know what I was saying," he said, trying to do damage control.

Rossi, taking the twists and turns in the road in stride, glanced over at the young man, "You know that we are our most honest when we're upset."

Eyes still closed, Reid rubbed his face with his hands in frustration. "I didn't mean it. I'm fine."

"Right. Look Spencer, why don't you let down your walls for once and tell me how you really feel," Rossi suggested. "You trusted me with your emotions before…"

Reid, knowing exactly the moment Rossi was talking about, said through gritted teeth, "That was different."

"How?"

"It…it didn't…it wasn't something that had to do with…," he flung his hands in the air, clearly aggravated with the conversation.

"It didn't have to deal with your relationship with the team?" Rossi supplied.

Sighing in defeat, Reid cracked open his eyes and saw that they had pulled up to his apartment building, "Yeah…"

The older agent put the car into park and turned toward the man he looked at like a son, "Do you really feel like we've all deserted you?"

Knowing that Rossi wasn't going to leave without a good answer, Reid felt his emotional wall give a tiny bit, "Will you come inside? There's something I want you to see."

Startled at the suggestion, Dave's eyebrows rose up high, "Sure thing, kiddo."

The room was dimly lit due to a small lamp that was on a timer by Reid's couch. The green hue of the walls did not help the view as they seemed to absorb more light than they reflected. Overall the apartment was neat and tidy with everything in its place. Rossi, having never visited the genius's abode before was not surprised that it smelled of yellowed book pages and ink.

"Have a seat," Reid said listlessly, gesturing to the couch.

The grizzled profiler was pleasantly surprised at the soft texture of the worn leather couch and sat back to relax as best he could.

Spencer watched as Dave made himself comfortable before turning to go into the kitchen, "Want any coffee?"

"No thanks. I can't drink any if I want to get a little bit of sleep before work tomorrow morning."

Reid smiled slightly to himself at the comment, knowing that sleep was going to be a fickle mistress for him tonight.

Rossi sat in the humble living room observing his surroundings as the genius busied himself in the kitchen. The veteran profiler didn't want to rush the kid into showing him whatever it was he had alluded to because he knew that Reid would get to it in his own time.

After his gaze flitted around from object to object it finally settled on a worn out box that was nestled in the center of the coffee table. The lid of the old box was askew revealing a jumble of items that had no business being in the same container together.

Intrigued, Rossi leaned forward to get a better look at the objects. In the back of his mind a little warning bell was going off telling him not to invade Reid's privacy any more than he already had, but he couldn't resist a better look. So, he reached out his hand and pushed the lid off onto the table fully exposing the contents.

The first thing that caught his eye was a wooden puzzle that he recognized from a flight home a few years back. The profiler reached out and grabbed the star formation, turning it over in his hands. His mind instantly flashed back to the story that Emily had told and how Reid foiled it by putting the shooting star back together in a matter of seconds. Dave couldn't help but allow a chuckle to escape his lips at the look on Prentiss's face when he set it down completed in front of her.

"You found the box, I see," Reid observed from the doorway to his kitchen, clutching a steaming mug of coffee in his hands.

For the first time ever, Reid watched as Rossi's face went red in embarrassment at being caught snooping.

"Uh…I…I saw this poking out and couldn't help but remember when Emily told that story on the plane," he explained, hoping to skirt the issue of his prying.

"Yeah…that's why she gave it to me. She wanted me to have something to remember her by….uh…you know, before she left for London," Reid explained.

Rossi looked back down at the box, "What else is in there?"

Instead of answering the genius decided to sit down next to the man, pulling the box over toward their end of the table. He reached inside and pulled out a notebook, "This is one of my mom's old notebooks that she filled up with different musings and song lyrics. She had a tons of these but I kept this one because she let me jot down some ideas in it with her when she was feeling well."

He set it off to the side and reached back inside to grab a book called "The Ugly Little Boy." Rossi noted that the author was Isaac Asimov and didn't need one of Reid's lengthy explanations to guess who it used to belong to.

The genius was tracing the title of the book with his lithe fingers when he suddenly decided to share it's significance with his friend, "You know that my dad left in a hurry. Well, he took most of his stuff but left almost all of his books behind. I didn't do anything with them for a long time but eventually I was strong enough to throw them out. Only…when I came across this one…I just couldn't get rid of it. It felt sort of fitting, you know?"

"Actually, I've never heard of this particular story," Rossi said.

Reid gave the man a watery smile, "Well, I'll give you the short version. It's about an ugly little boy whose mother tries to give him the best childhood possible. She goes through many trials but never leaves her son's side."

"Fitting…" was all Rossi could say in response.

Spencer sat the book down and went back for the next object.

"Reid, you don't have to show me everything. I think I'm beginning to understand what this box means to you."

"It's alright. I knew what I was doing when I invited you up here to see it," Reid said shyly.

"Well, I'm honored that you chose to share it with me," Rossi said with more compassion in his voice than Reid had ever heard the man use before.

All he could do was nod his head in response as he pulled out a punched train ticket with a note affixed on it with a paperclip. "This…this was Elle's. It's her train ticket to Dallas. She…um…she was held hostage by Ted Bryar. She gave it to me because I helped save her. The uh…the note says 'Thank you."

Rossi listened silently as Reid went on to show him a finished crossword puzzle book that had completion times written next to each puzzle. It was the one that the genius and Blake would use as practice in their down time at work.

Then there was a ticket to a Redskins game that caused Reid to go a little bit red in the face. It wasn't until Rossi heard him say that JJ was the one that accompanied to the game that the blush made sense.

The older man wasn't surprised to see the bundle of handwritten letters with a small velvet ribbon wrapped around them come out of the box. He already knew that they were the ones that Maeve had written. Reid just looked up at Rossi as he held them in his hands, "You already know what these are."

Dave's gnarled hand reached out and gripped the boy's left one. He squeezed it gently and gave a sad smile, "I'm sure she kept all yours too."

Spencer coughed and twisted his mouth around, trying to hold in a sob. The boy's brown eyes were blinking fast in efforts to dispel the tears that had grown in their corners. "Yeah…"

Clearing his throat once again, Reid moved on with his big reveal. The next thing he showed Rossi was the collection of figurines that Garcia had perched on his hospital tray to greet him when he woke up from surgery. "I don't think she knew how much I appreciated her gesture."

"I'm sure she did, Reid. She's insightful like that."

Another letter was then pulled from the never-ending depths of the cardboard box. A pit grew in Rossi's stomach as he deduced who had written it. "That's Gideon's final letter to you. Isn't it?"

"Uh…yeah…I-I was so angry at him for leaving it…but I-I just couldn't bring myself to throw it away. I mean…I know that I have it memorized but…it didn't seem right to toss it into the trash. Even after the way he…uh…he left me, I just couldn't let go of it," the youth said, his voice breaking throughout the explanation.

"I understand…sometimes we keep things to help us remember. Even if the things they drudge up are painful memories," Rossi said, thinking about the onesie that he and his wife had bought for their son that never made it home from the hospital. He still kept it in his nightstand drawer and pulled it out every once in a while to postulate about who his son might have grown up to be.

"There are only two more left," Reid said, breaking Rossi out of his depressing musings.

"Two?"

"Yeah…um this is from when I finally passed my gun qualifications test back in 2005. Hotch was an integral part of my training and he coached me every day after work. After the…the Philip Dowd case in Illinois I took the test again with Hotch there to support me. I passed and he made sure that the proctor gave me the casing from my final shot as a victory trophy. I…it uh…it was the first time that I felt like I made someone proud…you know, other than my mom and Gideon."

"And the whistle?"

A humorous smile overtook Reid's face for the first time since they started delving into his box, "Morgan gave me this after I failed my test the first time. He told me that if I ever needed any help to just blow the whistle. I don't think he realized how much that comment motivated me to get better. We-we weren't as good of friends at that time as we…uh…," the genius was going to say 'as good as we are now' but he wasn't sure if there was any truth behind the statement.

Seeing the genius struggling with this final piece of memorabilia, Dave decided to ask him what had been on his mind since they began this journey, "All of these things…they help you remember the people whom you feel have come and gone from your life?"

Reid wiped his eyes as he nodded in affirmation.

"So where's mine? Where's the one that represents me?"

A serious silence descended upon the two profilers. It seemed to Rossi like it was going to go on forever but then Reid spoke in a small voice, "You're the only one that hasn't left yet."

So sorry if the case part of the story felt incomplete but that particular case was never meant to be a main focus of my story...no later on...you'll see.

I hope you enjoyed it, and I promise to never be away for three weeks again!