Gosh, I love you guys. Seeing a 33-country viewership is highly encouraging, and the reviews are very much welcomed. Don't be afraid to be brutally honest with me. You're all loved. Very much.
I decided to approach this chapter a little differently. You'll see what I mean. I doubt I'll handle very many chapters like this one, but it seemed to fit best.
I don't own anything except Haley and the rapidly-growing word-mass.
Slowly, and with a careful way about her, Prentiss neatly parked the car in the parking complex adjoining the BAU building.
Reid, who had nested Haley between his left arm and the left side of his body, unbuckled the seatbelt, taking care also to remind Haley that she had to unbuckle her lap belt before exiting. Haley left at his heels, and Prentiss was already a good ten paces ahead of the car at this point.
Haley reverted to her typical demeanor, that is, quiet, obedient, and nervous. She matched Reid's long stride exactly, no easy feat, but one accomplished by years of observing horses. She curled a leg up when it was well under her, swinging her body forward and unfurling the leg in stages, landing on her toes to get maximum extension of her stride as she picked up the other leg. When a horse did this, it looked graceful; Haley appeared to be lurch-swaying rhythmically on account of being a biped.
This did not escape Reid's observation of their shadows, and he shortened his stride to match her normal stride, to see what she would do.
Horse-like, she collected her stride accordingly, before slipping back down into her usual gait.
Something occurred to Reid whilst walking across the parking garage.
Haley really was horse-like. A horse in its natural state wouldn't let you approach it at first. Its fear would be overwhelming, and it would shy from everyday things. The best way you could get a horse used to you was to hang around and let them see you while they did their own thing in an environment where they felt like they had some degree of control.
Then you had to start giving them apples, letting them learn that human hands bring good things. Eventually, they would welcome your presence, maybe even approach you or let you approach them. After that, it was time to touch them on the shoulder-softly, quietly, and stroking gently once they were somewhat comfortable.
In time, they would become comfortable with human contact, and then the halter, saddle, and bridle were to be introduced in much the same way as people had to introduce themselves-sometimes even down to the treats and petting.
They'd be nervous when you first asked them to do anything out of their comfort zone, such as responding to the bit or being asked to do basic ground-work. You had to constantly soothe them, quite possibly abandoning your plan in favor of tasks that they were more comfortable with. Slowly, though, and with time, patience, and love, you could teach them the ultimate trust: to ride. It was beyond a mere thing. The horse could not see you, but only feel you. Love, fear, respect, or a mix of the three would determine what they would do for you, and beyond that, they might someday trust you to teach them something new while on their back, such as crossing water, approaching mailboxes, or jumping obstacles.
If they were timid enough, or previously abused, you just might be the only one they trust.
Indeed, Haley was horse-like. She, too, had been scared. She'd had to learn to associate Reid with good things, first having to be given a small piece of chocolate-apparently something she hadn't had much of in her diet-by Reid. Learning this, she eventually approached him, even letting him touch her on the shoulder. With time, she'd willingly submitted to rubbing on her back, neck, and sides. Her arms, which, for some reason, she was particularly timid about, eventually became another contact point she'd offered before the nonthreatening doctor.
Physical trust established, the talking began. The first time Reid spoke, Haley nearly flew across the room in fright. It was her eighth session with him, and he was silent as soon as he saw her jump, but only for a moment. He'd been quick to verbally soothe her, coming off the couch he'd curled up in for the first time in eight sessions and kneeling beside her before he spoke. He remembered the words, even: "It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. I'll leave you alone now if you're too scared, just tell me." His eidetic memory kept the image of her brow creasing in fearful contemplation, before she told him to continue, but only if he wasn't going to hurt her. It had come out as a threatening, deep growl that caused him to involuntarily back up a few inches before rubbing down her back and mumbling quietly just to get her used to the sound of his voice.
With time and kind treatment, she'd eventually relaxed toward him, even trusting him with select parts of her past that she'd never told anyone. She'd still left out a lot and refrained from talking about most of her life, but he began to know what a sad case she was, how beaten and broken she was, how much help she really needed. He'd recommended that she be sent to full-time, non-volunteer therapy, and they responded by sending her out into the world yet again.
Now, a slight bit of her old trust was gone, but it was growing into something newer, stronger, better, and more willing for the right reasons: respect, love, and trust.
Just like a horse.
Somehow he'd ended up filling in all his paperwork by the time this thought-process completed itself. He was in the middle of a conversation with Morgan, probably equally as spacey considering the looks of various kinds that Prentiss and Rossi were giving the two of them, and Haley was nested close by, curled up on the floor with a book, oblivious to the outside world.
"Welcome to reality", Rossi quipped with a serious sort of humor.
Reid merely nodded, glanced at the 4 o'clock light beyond the window, and looked back at Rossi.
"Go home, Reid. The case is over, and if Garcia didn't mislead me, I think there's a rush on a particular delivery that someone will want to see." He raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at Haley and nodding in her general direction.
"Right." Reid pursed his lips in his trademark awkward smile-and-nod, grabbed his messenger bag, and tapped Haley three times between the shoulder-blades.
Haley looked up at Reid. "Hmm?" Her face showed a slight tone of impatience, but was otherwise naïve, trusting, blank as she again made eye contact with him.
"You need to get home." He took her hand and helped her up. "There's something coming in today, remember?" His face was proud, fatherly, almost. He held himself in a new way-appearing confident and self-assured.
None of this escaped the notice of the team, who'd all been contacted by Garcia to wait two hours and then leave for Reid's, if only to surprise him and bring dinner. It startled the team a little that he had a home address that came up on Google Earth as a large property with wilderness as the backyard. Some of it had been tamed by the construction of the track, cross-country courses, paddocks, a barn, and various arenas and trails, but most of it remained intact, including the wild ivy crawling up the grandiose tree visible from the front yard. Google Earth, however, had not provided them with these details. Garcia had.
As Reid left, Haley practically shoving him out the door at a full-on sprint like a little kid headed to Disneyland, the whole team smiled with anticipation of what would happen next.