CHAPTER 13: Distress (Season 2, episode 17)

Character(s): Reid, Prentiss, and Garcia, briefly, at the end.

A/N: Once again, must credit certain quoted episode lines in this chapter to their writer – in this case, that would be Oanh Ly. Usual spoiler warnings about the episode as well, regarding the drug storyline, the unsub, and the outcome of the case. And a brief nod to a scene from "Profiler, Profiled" towards the end, too.

This chapter, as well as the next one, are going to be a little more on the lengthy side, it seems. But hopefully they're worthwhile reads for you guys. I'll say it again, thank you, thank you, everyone, for your interest in this series, as well as the comments and wonderful chats that have come from it. And immense thanks to little purple butterflies for her continued support and always being a source of inspiration and entertaining discussion.

Onward we go!

"I have learned now that while those who speak about one's miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more." - C.S. Lewis

Spencer Reid blinked a few times, the numbers on his alarm clock slowly coming into focus. It was eight am.

Oh. Right. I'm supposed to be at work now. Instead, he simply curled up further underneath his blankets and fell back to sleep.

The next time Reid woke up, it was 9:30 am and his phone was buzzing. He groaned, running a hand over his face and into his hair before reaching towards his nightstand. Picking the phone up, he noticed that he had three new messages, all from some of his teammates. "Where are you?" "Are you okay?" "Hey, Pretty Boy, get your skinny butt in here."

Reid rolled over on his back. Staring at his ceiling, he began weighing his options for the day.

His favorite one was choosing to not go in at all, staying in bed all day instead. He could call and say he was sick. It wouldn't be all that far off from the truth, after all.

But if he did that, then that would mean they'd expect him back at work sometime soon. If not tomorrow, then certainly within the next two or three days. That would mean Reid would have to be "calling in sick" for a good number of days to come as a result. So that plan clearly wasn't going to work very well.

The other option was, of course, just going to work, and coming up with some logical excuse for his lateness. Not what he wanted by a long shot, but he'd make do with it for now until he tried to come up with some other possible solution.

Sighing in exasperation, he forced himself out of bed and began rummaging through his clothes. A glance in his bedroom mirror gave him a quick, nasty reminder of the events of recent weeks. Reid rubbed a hand over his arm self-consciously. No more rolled-up sleeves anytime soon, that was for sure.

Emily Prentiss did not like what she saw.

She couldn't help staring along with the rest of the team as Reid finally made his way into the conference room. He wordlessly plopped down next to her, no acknowledgement of or apology for his lateness forthcoming. If anyone else was concerned about this situation, they hid it well behind looks of irritation or confusion. Emily, however, made no secret of her worry.

Reid looked tired. And not the typical "overworked" sort of tired. He had deep bags under his eyes, he looked paler than usual, and he was starting to look a little gaunt. And his voice – Emily cringed a little as she listened to him talk. He'd always sounded a bit pitchy and squeaky, but now his voice had a hint of croakiness to it. The kind of sound you hear in someone who's either just getting sick or trying to recover from being sick. The kind that made you want to clear your own throat on their behalf.

Emily noticed Reid's coffee cup then, and weirdly, it allowed her a brief sense of relief. Still the same old Reid in one area, at least. She noticed his body visibly relax as JJ broke the tense silence by quickly resuming her team briefing, pulling everyone's attention back to her and away from the bizarre spectacle they'd just witnessed. Before she could get the chance to speak to him, though, the team was being ushered out the door, towards the jet that would take them to a new destination.

Once in the air, Emily felt relieved once again as she listened to Reid rattle off information about the case. He seemed fine now. Maybe he was just having a bad morning? Shortly thereafter, everyone began doing their regular sorting of tasks for the investigation. Reid, as always, would handle the geographical profile. Emily took that moment to volunteer her aid. Everyone else will be out doing other things, it'll just be us. Perfect time to talk to him. Business as usual.

"I can do it."

Emily's head went up in surprise at Reid's response. His voice had been brusque, slightly annoyed, just like it had been in the conference room earlier.

"…I wasn't suggesting that you couldn't." Did I? I don't think I meant it to come out wrong…

"Isn't that what, 'I'll help you with that' means?"

Okay, what the hell? Emily noticed some of the other team members staring at Reid as well. You guys are hearing this, too, right? She quickly tried to figure out how to respond until Hotch beat her to it, swiftly quieting Reid down and closing the subject. Everyone resumed their own individual activities then, trying to put the recent awkwardness out of their minds.

Emily, on the other hand, secretly kept her gaze on Reid the rest of the flight.

PTSD. Haunted by a traumatic incident, reliving that painful experience over and over again.

Their unsub had that. The profile was starting to prove that loud and clear. He was a former soldier, homeless, possibly had family looking for him. Apparently, he was under the delusion he was still caught up in a war zone, and had been going around killing people he perceived to be the "enemy".

He was reliving the worst day of his life. He felt alone and scared.

Reid scratched at his chin again. Man, he wished he hadn't come into work. Right now all he wanted to do was go back to bed and stay there for god knows how long.

Not that he wanted to be in his apartment in and of itself, exactly. If he stayed at home, he'd just be dealing with the same problems he'd been having for weeks now. The daily nightmares, the temptations that stared him in the face whenever he'd pass or enter his bathroom. Plus, there was also the fact that the small space of his apartment was making him feel increasingly claustrophobic.

No, he'd only wished to stay in bed because everywhere else seemed even less appealing. The BAU offices were practically his second home, but even there, he found no solace nowadays. Nobody seemed to notice how much trouble he was in, or if they did, they tiptoed around him as though he were so fragile he'd break the moment they spoke to him. Yes, he'd gotten a little agitated on the plane earlier, but for Christ's sake, his teammates had interviewed unsubs who'd said the most vile things imaginable. Surely they could handle talking to a co-worker who was having a bad day, couldn't they?

And when he was at work, he had to see more gruesome crime scenes, had to hear about more poor souls being tortured and having to endure sadistic mind games, to the point where killing them was almost a merciful act. All any of that did was make Reid think of Hankel and that shed and the cemetery and he wanted so badly to just get out of there when those memories came flooding back.

Reid obviously always wanted to see to it that every case ended on as safe a note as possible, with the unsub talked down without incident, sent away to where they needed to go to get the help (or punishment) they deserved.

But this time, looking at the facts of this case laying out before him, his determination for such an outcome seemed to be just a little bit stronger than usual.

Spencer Reid had just terrified a woman half to death.

Emily stared, gobsmacked, at her colleague as he talked to the woman running the local homeless shelter. He may even be in this room as we speak. Emily could see the poor woman's eyes go wide, her head carefully scanning the room, her body starting to tense as "weird-looking" men wandered in and out of the building.

And just as quickly as Reid rattled off that disturbing bit of information, he was gone, as though nothing incredibly strange had just happened. Emily tried her best to calm the woman down, apologizing over and over, trying to brush the incident off as the FBI simply showing extra caution.

Then she stalked off in search of the man who, at that moment, wasn't exactly living up to his "genius" title, in her opinion.

Luckily, she didn't have to look far. He was standing right outside the shelter, quietly observing the construction, glancing at the passerby. Outburst? What outburst? Everything was just fine as far as he was concerned.

Emily hesitated. This obviously was not her ideal time or place to talk to him, but beggars can't be choosers, and all that. The discussion just couldn't wait.

And yet, as she tried to explain to Reid exactly how reckless his comments to the woman inside were, he didn't seem to understand. Or if he did understand, he apparently didn't care. Emily was a little shocked at just how angry she was quickly becoming towards him.

Finally, she gave up with the explanations. "What is the matter with you?" she simply asked, desperation creeping into her voice.

"What – what do you mean, what's the matter with me?" No, seriously, I'm genuinely curious. 'Cause if you honestly can't tell, then I think you're in the wrong line of work. But Reid kept that thought to himself.

"I have never seen you act like this."

"Oh, really, oh, in the - in the months that you've known me you've never seen me act this way? Hey, no offense, Emily, but…you don't really know what you're talking about, do you?"

Yeah, he needed to get out of here. He was tired of talking to people at the moment, he could feel the cravings creeping in, and he really needed to find someplace quiet. Looking into Emily's eyes for a brief moment, Reid also knew he needed to leave before he said something else to her that he'd surely regret later.

He brushed past Emily then, and she stood there, frozen in place. She'd been simply worried up to this point, but now? She was honestly getting scared.

Reid stood in the bathroom of the police station, splashing cold water over his face.

Why couldn't someone else have taken the call? Why couldn't someone else be the one to give the "I'm sorry" look to the others?

He'd died. Roy Woodridge had died. They hadn't been able to save him. They couldn't stop a SWAT member from killing him. The guy was mentally unstable, couldn't the SWAT guy see that?!

They tried desperately to help him, Reid, you know that. The SWAT guy did what he had to do, it was a tragic accident.

But Reid shrugged away that voice. He was angry, and frustrated, and he frankly wanted to wallow for a while. Didn't help that the cravings were back once again, and were especially strong today to boot, putting him even more on edge. And the vials were all the way back home in Virginia.

1,402 miles, twenty hours, and sixteen minutes away. Good to know that part of his brain seemed to still function okay.

Emily watched Reid once again on the ride home. He was sprawled out on the couch at the back, and he was finally asleep for the moment…but it was clearly an uncomfortable, uneasy sort of sleep.

Should I tell them? I mean, they clearly have to notice something's off, don't they? They did on the way out here, at least.

Emily kept fumbling with her hands, trying desperately to avoid falling into her usual bad habit with her nails. She knew this was something Hotch and Gideon especially needed to know about. They knew the measures that needed to be taken for situations like this far better than she did, and they could help Reid with whatever was going on. And all would be fine!

Except that she knew it wouldn't be that easy. Those were difficult conversations to have with someone, and Emily couldn't bear the thought of Reid shutting down even further, his anger at his teammates intensifying.

Who was she kidding? She couldn't handle him being angry with her. He might see her telling Hotch and Gideon as the behavior of a tattletale, for lack of a better word, and he might feel betrayed (despite the fact there'd never been a pact of confidence made in the first place). And that would bother her deeply. For some reason, she'd come to form something of a connection with the younger agent in the short time she'd been on the team. Maybe it was the fact that she'd finally found a fellow nerd she could bond with. Maybe it was the fact that she knew what it was like to feel out of place, to have difficulty asking for and receiving help. Maybe it was the fact that she understood the kinds of struggles she suspected he was dealing with more than he realized.

Whatever the explanation, all she knew was that she wanted to make sure he came out of this problem all right, her friendship with him fully intact. She wanted her old silly, strange genius back.

Emily allowed a small smile for a moment as she thought back to the day she came to work and saw JJ and Garcia at Reid's desk, hovering over him. He'd been showing off some of what he liked to call his "physics magic".

He'd accidentally beaned her in the head with one of his little rockets, but he apologized profusely, and they laughed it off. She remembered being eager to see his trick, and him obliging her. He had all the excitement of a child, glad to have something that captivated people's attention, relishing the fact that none of them would ever find out the secret behind the trick.

That sweet, innocent boy was still in there somewhere. She was sure of it. And she would see to it that he came back.

The elevator ride up was quiet. Everyone was exhausted, their minds elsewhere, be it on the recent case (the majority of the team) or current office work (Hotch).

Or perhaps they were focused on the fact that the youngest team member was standing off in a corner of the elevator, arms folded, looking straight ahead, not talking to anyone. If that last issue was on anyone's minds, none of them said anything about it.

The team was greeted by Garcia as they stepped off the elevator. Everyone briefly said their hellos and good-nights, hugs were exchanged, and Garcia tried not to show her confusion and hurt when Reid briefly nodded towards her before quickly heading off in the other direction.

Emily was the last one to see Garcia. "Hi," she said, a tired, relieved smile on her face. You have no idea how glad I am to see you right now.

"Hi, yourself." Garcia's grin faded as she looked Emily up and down. "You all right?" she asked, her face now full of concern.

Emily shook her head slightly and sighed. She was sure of this: she didn't need, nor want, to burden the ever bubbly Penelope Garcia with her worries. "Just…the case, I guess."

Garcia nodded sympathetically. She remembered how it ended. Not one for wanting to wallow in sadness, she quickly changed the subject. "Hey," she said, her eyes widening, an excited, mischievous look spreading across her face. "Wanna stop by my office quick?"

Emily shrugged. "Sure. What for?"

Garcia began pulling Emily by the arm, hustling her down the hallway. "Oh, just some photoshopped pictures I think you might enjoy seeing…".

"To pity distress is but human; to relieve it is Godlike." - Horace Mann

I wanted to end on something of an uplifting note, and Morgan and Garcia's conversation in this episode was very helpful :D. Bless those two. Anywho, as always, comment away!