Thanks all for the incredibly large readership! It's really encouraging to see people from 26 different countries viewing my work!

I own only the words and Haley.

Something about this part, also. I don't see why everyone thinks that Reid is this destitute genius the lives in an apartment. He does traveling lectures at universities. You can make between 20 and 80 grand a lecture if you're good, and especially if you're in demand like Reid is. Even the other characters have decent suburban homes in the show, even when they're the only income provider. Do the math, and Reid is a multimillionaire. Also, his mother's treatment would be the taxpayer's burden to bear, not his, and even if it was (i.e. private facility), it would eat up only a small amount of his yearly income. This all goes to show...writers, do your research.

"Come on, Haley", Reid said to the half-asleep girl, shaking her shoulder gently. "It's almost five. You should come inside and bed down for the night."

Haley shook her hair into place and unbuckled her seatbelt, gathering her few possessions out of the backseat tiredly before exiting the vehicle, Reid opening the door for her.

"Is this your house?" she asked. "Maybe I should pursue a government job", she mused aloud, sounding like her mind had crossed into a different plane of existence, her face set in the otherworldly expression that comes when Sleep, Death's little brother, has knocked for too long and is simply going to kick down the door in his impatience.

"No, no, don't do that unless you have a passion for it", Reid cautioned. "I make at least fifteen times my BAU salary by traveling cross-country to give lectures. I make $100,000 a month minimally by giving anywhere between two and five lectures. I charge more if I'm going to a more prestigious college because they can afford the extra expense if they really want me there, and I lecture for a reduced rate at Cal Tech because of the full-ride scholarship they gave me."

"Oh", Haley said, looking at the house. It was huge by her standards, nestled in a quiet neighborhood. The property itself seemed to encompass anywhere between five and ten acres of slight hills and large flat expanses, from what could be communicated in the mysterious, vague language of Night. The front, seeming to be about half an acre, consisted of neat bushes, a few grand-looking trees, and well-trimmed grass. The back yard was far less maintained, seeming to grow more wildly, with unkempt grass and wild branches here and there. Random ivory grew up the most immediate wild tree. "You pay for the front yard to be landscaped", she observed.

"Association", he muttered annoyedly. "You would think it's no big deal, because it's all horse property and this is a big equestrian neighborhood", he ranted, "but at least they don't regulate back yards, so I can leave that wild."

"Do you not like paying landscapers?" she asked.

"No, I just prefer the look of wilderness. That's why I got this place. When I do come home, I want to be able to relax. Now come on, quit the talk. You need your rest." He put an arm around her shoulders and led her into the house, a large, pale blue, single-floor residence, basement excepted. It was massive for one person, and still oversized for two, coming in at about 2,000 square feet on the ground level alone, not counting the finished basement. This prompted a tour of the residence.

The entry was intricately set with natural stone tile of different colors, with a granite centerpiece. Rough-cut slate began after this elaborate octagon and continued into the main living area and the adjoining kitchen, which featured an island and spacious counters with all the gourmet cooking and baking amenities, cabinets being made out of solid cherry wood and pantry having a matching door, all hinges and fittings made of solid brass. A black-gold granite countertop, rough-cut around the edges, graced anywhere a countertop needed to be. It came off to the right of the living room, which featured a small HD LCD television, a massive Persian rug, a few comfy-looking suede recliners, and an overstuffed mahogany-wood-and-black-leather couch that was capable of seating five. In front of it was a large coffee table, made out of solid cherry wood, as were the end-tables next to the recliners. Were one to go straight ahead from the entrance, a heavy wooden door leading outside could be reached. The informal dining room, which came off the kitchen to the left so it could also be accessed via the living room, had been tiled also with the dark grey slate, and held a small four-person seating arrangement, also made out of cherry wood, with the chairs having padded backs and seats, these being covered with rustic-looking stressed black leather. Through an odd-shaped hallway stemming off this, one could reach two similarly-themed half-bathrooms, and a large formal dining expanse that held an ornate hand-carved California Redwood table with black granite and silvery insets, luxurious mid-brown carpet, and a golden-colored brass chandelier. This was one of the few places that held pictures on the wall, and even these were impersonal, merely portraits of the world's most memorable intellectuals. A marble bust stood in a corner, but otherwise, it was just another room.

The walls throughout the home were bright white, rather complimenting it as opposed to contrasting it discordantly, interrupted frequently by an ornate cherry-wood or mahogany bookshelf. Off to the left of the living area was a wide and long hallway, running parallel to the wall it came off of. At the front was a full bathroom, and next to it was a guest room that had been converted into a study. The area was tousled, but still managed to hold a semblance of academia and order. The furniture in here was not ornate; it was rather simple, and pine bookshelves were clearly the dominant feature in the room. A single picture of Reid's mother was hung in front of the desk, where it would be at eye level. Also, there was a chair that he could curl up in, placed in a corner. A small, mismatching table was next to it, also holding a small framed picture of his mother, nested atop a Bible.

"You believe too?" Haley asked Reid, gesturing to the Bible on the table when she saw it.

"It makes perfect logical sense in my mind, so of course I believe." He, unlike Haley, was more mature in the faith. It gave him something good to cling to when he saw all the evil committed by people. He clung to his beliefs and went to church when his job permitted it, though he was typically uncomfortable talking about it, as he didn't know all the answers yet. He was accustomed to knowing all the answers before he opened his mouth. "Come along, now." He continued showing her the house.

There was another bedroom, and it was apparently the guest bedroom. It held a bed, drawers, a nightstand, and a desk. The closet was of the small type with the mirror doors that slid on tracks.

"Did you do all this decorating and such yourself?" Haley couldn't help but wonder. It seemed unlike him, but then again, horses at first seemed unlike her.

"Um, no", Reid said. "I hired a custom builder, told them I wanted a roomy and rustic retreat that still had the amenities, gave him a four million dollar budget, and I made the mistake of giving him permission to hire interior decorators."

"Oh."

The bedroom after that, Haley learned, was to be hers. It was an extra master bedroom with a door leading right to the backyard. It had white walls, the same lush brown carpet that was in the formal dining area, and a mahogany desk with cherry-wood inlays surrounded by several matching bookshelves. A cushy queen-sized bed was in the middle, with a dark green comforter and white sheets, with a mottled brown throw over it. A set of mahogany drawers that were roomy enough to be a dresser were also low enough to serve as a nightstand, and on it was perched a rustic lamp. The door leading to the small walk-in closet was made of solid cherry wood with mahogany inlays, with the usual brass hinges and handle. The bathroom was slate-tiled and granite-countertoped, but similarly decorated otherwise. It held both a shower and a bath-tub, and had a privacy curtain that could be drawn across its entrance.

Reid's room, Haley learned, was similar, but he wouldn't permit her to see it or the basement yet.

"You need your rest", he told her. "Change into something comfortable and come say goodnight. I'll be in the study", he said.

She nodded and went into the bathroom area, using the toilet and changing into a sports bra, a large, comfy red hoodie, and a pair of old, tattered, but still serviceable sweatpants of unknown color on account of the many permanent stains it had accumulated. She brushed her teeth with the remainder of the toothpaste she had and got out the bag of baking soda so she didn't have to bug Reid for toothpaste tomorrow, and could still brush with something.

Her shoulder-length, silky black hair was brushed out so the strands didn't tangle worse in the night, and, all this done, she went to say goodnight.

Reid set aside the letter he'd been writing to his mom.

"Goodnight, Haley." He gave her a hug, which was returned, and followed her back to her room, at which she grew nervous.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"This is another one of those childhood things you missed, I bet. Haley, most kids have their parents tuck them into bed at night."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

Reid pulled back the blankets and patted the bed. "Lay down and rest your head on the pillow."

Haley obeyed him with considerable hesitance.

"Relax", he admonished her, "You need it. Rest. Close your eyes. Relax, relax", he repeated, shushing her when she moved too much or went to speak, rubbing over her back and sides lightly and somewhat awkwardly until she was relaxed and nested down in the bed.

She opened her eyes and watched what he did next. He left the lamp on, a comforting thing, since she had come to associate the dark with all the horrible things she'd been through. He brought the blankets up over her, nesting them about her neck and tucking them around her frame. She found this both very interesting and very relaxing, so she closed her heavy eyelids and gradually went limp while Reid spoke to her in soothing tones. He stayed in the room with her until she was asleep, and then left, finished his letter, and went to bed himself, leaving both his light and hers on.