Author's Note: I want to apologize in advance, but I was in severe pain the last two days, and I didn't get any editing done like I planned, so I only had a chance to edit it today and then post.

September 9th, 2012

Reid rubbed his eyes, glancing over at the clock and finding it was after three in the morning. He had to be up at six to join the team at the station, too, so it was probably best if he stopped reading and went to sleep.

Formula… He said the formula wasn't correct… Wetting his lips, he tilted his head back against the headboard. Did he mean the transmutation circle? Or something in the chemical formula we put at the center of the circle? He didn't say formulas, plural, so maybe only one of them was wrong.

Reid pressed his palms to his eyes, resisting the urge to groan so he wouldn't wake Ed. There were just so many variables, and they were trying to do something that hadn't been done before, and Ed couldn't keep attempting the Gate over and over and—

Setting his book aside with a huff, he grabbed his room card and got up. He left the room, careful to be quiet, and hurried down the hall. He didn't really know where he was going, but he needed to move. We could try sending an object through the Gate, but we would have no way of knowing if it worked. He frowned. And Ed said everyone has their own Gate, right? So sentience is required for a Gate to even exist, meaning it has to be a person that goes through.

"Reid?"

He jumped slightly, taking a moment to process he was in the lobby before he turned and realized Emily was sitting on one of the lounge chairs.

"What are you doing up?"

Smirking faintly, Reid approached and sat on the chair across from her. "I could ask you the same." He gestured to her lap. "No book. No computer. Just sitting."

"Just thinking," Emily clarified with a sigh. "Trying to answer the impossible."

Reid gave a weak smile. "The impossible case or the impossible Ed?"

"Yes." Emily rubbed her temple. "But mostly Ed. I've been thinking about his new theory."

Nodding, Reid leaned back in the cushioned seat. "Me, too. I was just reading up on the chemical components involved in various forms of witchcraft. It's hard because the only books here at the hotel were the ones Ed brought, which cover some of what I need but not all of it." He placed his ankle against his opposite knee, picking at the argyle sock. "I haven't exactly had time to get to a library."

Emily snorted. "You know, there is a magical device in your room that could help you with that."

"Ew." Reid made a face at the thought of using a computer. "I might force myself to use it if we don't close this case soon."

Emily rolled her eyes with a snort, both discouraged and annoyed. She lifted her hand slightly, as if reaching up to touch something. "We've been looking into several theories, but I really like what Ed said about something in these women's souls appealing to the killer."

"There has to be a trigger of some kind." Reid moved his foot around, watching the movement as he continued to scratch at his sock. "He encounters a woman who says or does something specific, and that's how he picks them."

"But how does he keep the timetable, then?" Emily drummed her fingers on the arm rest of her chair. "How is he dropping bodies on a schedule if the thing that makes him target them is random?" She frowned. "There has to be a secondary factor, something that makes it easy to pick out the kinds of women who are going to give him what he's looking for." She chewed her lower lip.

"If we could just figure out which part of the symbolism surrounding red dresses is the one he's interested in, maybe we could find a connection between that and the trigger." Reid tapped his thumbs against each of his fingers in turn. "Red could mean blood, but he's strangling them, so… maybe it's symbolic of the blood he could have shed."

"But if his focus is the souls, why would the blood matter to him? Unless it's like Ed said, where he wants to keep the blood inside them." She tilted her head. "We already ruled out 'the scarlet letter' because none of the victims were in relationships, but adultery isn't just cheating."

It took Reid a split second, and then he nodded rapidly. "Lots of people see extramarital sex as a form of adultery. They're cheating on their souls, or spirituality, or beliefs, or morals." He rolled his hand to indicate the list went on. "That could help us narrow down some character traits of the unsub." He scowled then. "But if he's just looking for unmarried women willing to have sex, our victim pool is massive."

"Well, maybe it's not necessarily unmarried. All three victims weren't in relationships at all." Emily squinted, eyes moving back and forth as if she were reading a script. "What about virgins?"

Reid frowned. "But Mikayla had an STD."

"But he might not have known that. If she lied to him…" Pressing her lips together, she met Reid's gaze. "We should talk to their families, see what kind of sexual history they had and whether they were open about it."

"We should talk to past relationships, too. They would probably know better than immediate family members." Reid yawned, covering his mouth and leaning back. "I'm so tired."

Emily laughed softly. "Yeah. I guess we should at least try for a couple hours of sleep." She got to her feet with a groan. "Try not to worry about Ed, okay?"

Reid sighed heavily, trying to convince himself to stand up like she had. "I feel so out of my element."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked, leaning against the arm of the chair.

"I…" Reid lifted his hands helplessly. "I've always been good with kids, but… I wasn't a normal teenager, and I don't spend a lot of time with teenagers, and I'm so socially awkward, and I—"

"Well, maybe that's exactly what Ed needs. I mean, he's hardly a normal teen, even in his own world." Emily shrugged. "You also seem more comfortable with him than you do with pretty much anyone who isn't on our team. You wouldn't be comfortable with him if you didn't understand and relate on some level." She smiled. "You're doing a great job."

Reid took a breath and slowly let it out, trying to soak up the words she had said. "Thanks." He pondered it for another second or two, and then he got to his feet. "We better get some sleep."

Emily straightened up, and the two of them started heading back to their rooms. It was silent, but Reid was fine with that. They had always had the kind of friendship that appreciated just being near each other without making conversation.

Hmm… formulas…

September 10th, 2012

Ed looked up from his notebook—a cool, red one with a dragon on it that he had gotten from a little shop in the city—where he was collecting information about different forms of protection. He planned to look into external ways to fortify the soul, like the oils and crystals he had read about online, but he was more interested in the internal chemicals. And of course, he was more interested in the options that were scientific.

Steroids. He had been researching them all day. He had seen the word in an article about physical improvement, and at first his search had confused him. Everything was talking about reducing inflammation, like it was meant to fix a problem rather than strengthen a body overall. But he found his way to the steroids the original story had been talking about, and he had been making notes all day.

It was getting late—he was pretty sure he had missed dinner—and he couldn't wait until Reid got back so he could ask the scientist what he knew about the subject. It seems like there's a lot of focus on muscles, and I don't know if that would be helpful, but just because that's what they're used for now, it doesn't mean that's the only thing they can do. If there is a chemical or collection of chemicals that can help your body generate or regenerate tissue, then it's possible we can take that chemical—

Ed turned his head slightly when he heard his phone go off, and when he grabbed it, he saw it was Morgan calling. He flipped it open and put it to his ear. "Hey, Morgan. How's—"

"Hey, kid. I don't want you to freak out, but Reid and I went to interview a suspect, and things went south. He's fine." Morgan rushed to tack that on. "He's fine, he just got hit in the head, but we're going to the hospital to get him checked out."

It took a moment for Ed's brain to process the information, and the second it did, he was jumping up from the bed. "Tell me where it is."

"You can't come here. It's gonna be crawling with police and news reporters, and we can't risk you being seen with us." Morgan sighed softly. "I know it's hard, but you gotta stay at the hotel. I'll keep you updated over text, okay? I don't know if I'll be able to call, especially if there's people around to overhear the conversation, but I'm in the SUV alone right now, so I wanted to bring you up to speed."

Ed opened his mouth to argue but stopped himself. "Right. Don't want to get caught." He grabbed his red sweat jacket off the floor and pulled it on. "Can you at least tell me the name of the hospital so I kind find it on Google? I don't like not knowing where you are."

Morgan didn't respond right away, probably suspicious—which he had every right to be—but he eventually answered. "Yavapai Regional Medical Center. It's just a couple miles away from the hotel."

"Thanks. Make sure you text me a lot. I want to know what's going on." He grabbed his black sneakers, holding the phone between his shoulder and ear as he wrestled them on.

"Yeah, I'll let you know as soon as I hear something. He really is doing fine. He was conscious when we put him in the ambulance, but he did pass out when he first got hit, so we need to make sure there's nothing going on that isn't obvious." Morgan paused for a second. "Okay, I'm pulling into the parking garage. I gotta go."

"Okay." Ed snapped the phone shut and shoved it into his pocket, grabbing the laptop from beside his notebook. He typed the word 'maps' into the search bar, remembering something Garcia said about there being specific Google maps. It popped up immediately, and Ed zoomed in, scanning the details. He memorized the path he had to take, much like he had when sneaking off to the Fifth Laboratory, and then he shut the laptop. "Let's do this."

He grabbed his gloves from the nightstand and pulled them on, snatching the room keycard from right under them. He shoved it into his pocket and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Moving quickly down the hall, trying to be fast but also inconspicuous, he went down to the ground floor and left the hotel behind.

Okay. Ed moved down the sidewalks and across the roads, running when no one was around and dropping down to a jog or fast walk when he thought he might be seen. Getting to the hospital really wasn't hard because Ed had never driven a car and generally went all around Central on foot, but he was still out of breath when he arrived.

Regardless, he got there, and then came the next challenge.

"How the heck am I supposed to figure out what room he's in?" Ed chewed on his lip, staring across the street at the portion of the hospital that said it was an Emergency Room. He could see a multilevel building with cars off to the right, and he figured was the parking garage Morgan had mentioned. But that didn't tell him where Reid was. "Morgan said he was conscious when they put him in the ambulance, so he's probably conscious now."

Glancing down, Ed considered his phone, but he knew Reid would tell him to go back to the hotel and refuse to give him the room number. If hospitals in this world are like the ones in mine, I could probably just walk up to the front desk and give them Reid's name. He squinted slightly, golden eyes traveling over the building, and then he looked both ways and crossed the street.

Okay, just make yourself as normal and unsuspicious as possible. Ed walked through the automatic doors, which caught him off guard even though he had seen it before, and with the help of an abundance of signs, he found his way to what he hoped was the front desk. He slipped his hands into his pockets and approached the counter—which did not come halfway up his ribcage—and simply said, "Excuse me. I'm trying to find Dr. Spencer Reid. Can you tell me what room he's in?"

"Sure!" said the brunette behind the counter, pink fingernails clicking against the keyboard for a few moments. "It looks like… 309."

Ed gave her a thumbs up. "Thanks!" He walked to the left, toward a staircase, and he started following the signs as much as possible. It took a bit, and he got lost two times, but eventually he found the room.

"…evidence related to the case right now, but he's been strangling them with his hands, so unless he kept their clothes or jewelry as a trophy…" Morgan trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

"If we find a computer in the apartment, we could find evidence of the psychological—" Reid cut himself off, eyes widening when he saw Ed in the open doorway. "Ed!" he hissed.

Ed didn't offer any defense, but he didn't back down, either. He walked toward the bed, stopping a couple feet away as Morgan whirled around. "How's your head?"

"Ed!" Morgan looked past Ed into the hall, an almost frantic expression on his face.

"I'm not stupid. I made sure there were no cops in the hall or the room before I came in here." Ed squared his shoulders. "Reid, are you oka—?"

Morgan cut him off, stepping away from the bed and standing toe to toe with the blonde boy. "Are you freaking crazy? Do you have any idea how stupid this was?"

Ed folded his arms over his chest, glaring. "It's not a big deal. I made sure no one saw me, and—"

"You have no idea if someone saw you." Morgan's voice was restrained, but Ed got the idea that if they were alone, he would be yelling. "You have no idea who's watching you. I told you to stay at the hotel, and you—"

"Look, I know you all think I'm a kid, but I know how to take care of myself."

"Then act like it!" Morgan quickly brought his volume down, but he didn't lose the fire in his eyes. "You know the risks, and you know what could happen, and you came here anyway."

Ed clenched his fists. "I was worried about Reid! You're telling me I should have put myself above Reid, and that's somehow more mature than what I did?"

"It wouldn't be putting yourself above Reid." Morgan pointed to the bed behind him. "They said they're keeping him overnight for observation, which I texted to you, and he's going to be fine. There's nothing you can do for him here, but you came in anyway, despite the consequences—"

"I understand how consequences work!" Ed shouted, stepping forward even though there was almost no space between them. "My entire life I've been dealing with the consequences of my actions, and I know how to decide if my actions are worth the possible outcomes! I decided that coming here was more important to me than—"

"Agent Morgan, we just—oh."

Ed turned and saw a police officer standing in the doorway, and he racked his brain for a reason to be in the room. I also need a reason to be arguing with Morgan, so— "Aww, come on!" He turned back to Morgan and spread his arms, exasperated. "Didja have to call the cops on me?"

Morgan obviously had no idea what Ed was planning, but he played along, putting his hands on his hips with a solemn and extremely professional look on his face.

Ed turned back around, facing the officer. "I'm not up to anything bad! I just wanted to see Dr. Reid." He clasped his hands together, wearing a look that combined desperate and innocent. "He's a genius, and he has three doctorates, and we learned about him in school, and I just really wanted to meet—"

"Easy, kid," Morgan interjected, putting a hand on Ed's shoulder. "He's here to talk to me, not to haul you off." He squeezed the joint, maybe a little harder than necessary, and walked toward the officer, taking him out into the hall.

Ed breathed a discreet sigh of relief and turned to Reid. "Morgan said you passed out when you were hit in the head. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Ed." Reid flashed a small smile. "We went to question a suspect, and it was supposed to be routine, but I guess we spooked the guy. He hit me over the head with a frying pan, and I blacked out." He put a hand to the left side of his head. "It didn't bleed or anything. Kinda hard to make someone bleed with a frying pan. They just want to keep an eye on it."

"Good." Ed nodded, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the officer was still in the hall. "If the guy attacked you, does that mean he's guil—"

"Ed." Reid looked conflicted, like he wasn't sure of what he was about to say. "You shouldn't be here."

Ed stiffened. Him, too? He spread his arms slightly. "I don't need you telling me what to do. I can make my own decisions. It's not putting any of you in danger, and it's not like I wasn't careful. I—"

"Ed." Reid smiled faintly. "No one is trying to belittle or control you. I promise. We all make decisions that aren't necessarily the best, and the people who care about us are supposed to call us out."

"You acted like a selfish child."

Ed averted his gaze, hearing the voice of Maria Ross echoing in his memory. "I just…" His hand twitched, fighting the urge to reach up and touch the cheek she had slapped.

"It's really nice that you came to see me." Reid's smile broadened. "I know you did it because you prioritized being there for me over your own safety, and that's not wrong. I appreciate it. But just like you're more concerned about me than you, I'm more concerned about you than me. It's like the Equivalent Exchange of healthy relationships." He laughed softly.

Ed felt his mouth pull up in the corner, but he couldn't shake the guilt he felt. It was just like the first time they faced Scar. Ed was willing to die, and his only priority was making sure Scar would leave Al alive. Meanwhile, Al couldn't have cared less that he was literally falling apart because he was focused on the fact Ed was about to die. It wasn't a foreign concept.

"But I didn't just lay down and let myself get caught so I could come see you," Ed tried, thinking about the way Al was most bothered by Ed giving up. "I just thought it was worth the risk."

"I know. And I'm not going to nag you about it." Reid shrugged. "I understand why you did it, and I know I do things that… aren't the best when it comes to the people I care about." He laughed to himself, a mischievous grin on his face. "Hotch might kill you. But I won't. Promise."

It took a moment, but Ed found himself laughing along and rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah, he probably will."

"You should probably get going. I really am okay, Ed, and I'll text you a bunch so you know how I'm doing. Oh, and good job on the lie. If you didn't have that planned ahead of time, that's a good story to come up with in a matter of seconds."

Ed grinned. "Thanks. I have some experience." He looked back at the hall and saw Morgan and the officer were gone. "I should be able to leave without attracting attention."

"You shouldn't run into any law enforcement. If McLean took Morgan with him, they probably found something at the suspect's house." Reid shifted and once again put a hand to his head. "Oof. Yeah, there shouldn't be anyone lingering here."

Giving a thumbs up, Ed turned to leave.

"Hey, Ed."

Ed stopped, looking at Reid with mild curiosity.

"Everything in me…" he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head very carefully, "…wants to go help on the case. I want to ignore my head injury, tell myself that I'm fine, and get back to helping my team, even though I know I should rest." He gave Ed another small smile. "I understand that feeling. It's hard to resist. Learning when to listen to it and when to ignore it is one of the many, many hard things you have to do as you grow up. You're gonna get it wrong sometimes. And that's okay."

Ed blinked. He frowned slightly and turned, leaving without offering a response. He didn't know what to respond with, really. His gut said Reid was wrong. Nothing about mistakes was okay. It had taken him years to ask if Al hated him for what happened to his body, and Al was his brother. Thinking that someone who wasn't his brother might forgive him for any of the many, many missteps that littered his past… well, it didn't make sense. Mistakes couldn't be okay. He was supposed to get it right the first time. He wasn't supposed to screw up the same way more than once. Hurting people and letting them down was unacceptable.

But… He shook his head. No. Reid's just confused. I mean, he just got hit with a frying pan. He's confused. He shrugged it off.

September 10th, 2012

Hotch tapped his bicep, standing in the hotel room and staring Edward down with hard eyes and a raised brow.

"He's my friend," Edward argued. "I just wanted to make sure he was okay!"

Hotch continued to tap and stare.

"What?" the young blonde snapped, throwing his arms out.

Stopping his finger, Hotch answered simply, "I'm waiting for you to say something relevant."

Edward glared, folding his arms over his chest. "Whatever. Just tell me what my punishment is."

"No." Hotch paused for a beat. "I want you to understand why your actions were unacceptable."

Edward sighed and rolled his eyes. "Because I broke the rules, duh."

"No." Hotch waited for Edward to give him a look. "It is unacceptable because you are old enough to understand a cost and benefit analysis. I know you like to stick to the law of Equivalent Exchange, but that is not how the real world works." He pushed ahead, not giving Edward a chance to successfully interrupt. "Sometimes you give a lot, and you get a little. Sometimes the opposite is true. Sometimes it all evens out, and—"

"But—"

"—part of growing up is learning how to find a balance. What you did put yourself and everyone on this team in danger, and the only payoff you got was a brief conversation with Reid and whatever relief you felt over finding out he was okay in person instead of over text." Hotch took a breath, noting the guilty look on Edward's face. "It is good to care about people, and it is good to be passionate. It is not good to let those feelings control you."

Golden eyes stared off to the left and down at the floor. "I know how to figure out cost and benefit. I just thought it was worth the cost, okay?"

"Why?" Hotch asked simply, not judging, but genuinely trying to get the boy to think. "Why was such a small payout worth such a risk?"

"Because Reid needed me!"

"That's not a reason. You could have been there for him and given him what he needed without running across town and sneaking into his hospital room." Hotch gestured toward Edward, as if giving him the floor. "So, why was it worth it?"

"I just felt like it would be better if I was there in person," Edward argued.

Hotch wasn't swayed. "Why?"

"I don't know! I thought it would make us both feel better!" Edward was shouting, but his expression was very much a cornered one.

Turning his hand palm-up, Hotch came back to his original question. "And the two of you feeling better was worth risking your safety and the safety of every person on my team?"

Edward moved his mouth, struggling to come up with a response. "I wasn't… I didn't mean to… I just thought…" He made a few disjointed noises, and then he dropped his arms with a sigh, eyes wandering back down to the floor. "I guess it wasn't a great plan."

"No, it wasn't." Hotch dropped his own arms, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I need to know you're going to think through the orders I give you before you decide to disobey them."

Edward lifted his eyes, but he kept his head slightly bowed.

"I understand that sometimes rules need to be broken, but you need to have a good reason. In Montrose, you were protecting someone's life. That is a good reason. Visiting Reid because you're worried is not." Hotch paused, letting the words sink in. "Do you understand, Edward?"

Clenching his fists, Edward kept his gaze downward. "I wasn't trying to…"

Hotch frowned slightly. "I know. I'm not trying to say there's something wrong with you. You had very good intentions, and you just made a bad decision as a result. Making a mistake doesn't mean you're the thing that's wrong; it just means, perhaps, you didn't think things through as well as you could have." He shrugged. "I don't want you to be sorry or feel guilty or stupid. I simply want you to realize what the mistake was and use that experience to not make similar mistakes in the future."

"Uh…" Edward lifted his eyes, caught somewhere between surprise and suspicion. "I mean, yeah, I'm not going to do something like that again. Just tell me what you're gonna do, and I'll… figure it out."

Hotch shook his head. "I'm not going to do anything. I believe you when you say you won't do something like this again, and while you took a risk you shouldn't have, that risk didn't lead to any actual damage. I have no reason to impose a consequence for something that could have happened." He lifted a finger. "Keep in mind, however, that if you do make a mistake like this again, I will have to discipline you in some way. I don't want you forming a habit of thinking you can get away with disobeying orders as long as things all turn out okay in the end."

"Oh." Edward squinted. "But…" He shook his head slightly. "Okay."

"Edward." Hotch offered a faint smile. "Don't beat yourself up over it. Everything is fine." He reached out and gave Edward a pat on the shoulder. "Reid is supposed to be released tomorrow. They just want to keep him for overnight observation."

Edward nodded. "Okay." He looked toward his bed. "I guess it's late, so I'll get some sleep and keep researching tomorrow."

"That sounds like a good idea." Hotch was pleased to see Edward making that decision on his own, but he didn't want to point it out and make things awkward. "It's been about a week since you were last in pain, so we should have another week or so before it happens again. Have you noticed anything that might make you think the pain is going to start early?"

"No, I'm good." Edward flashed a grin. "I'll let you know when it starts again."

Hotch nodded. "Good." He walked to the door and went out into the hall, turning to call out a, "Goodnight, Edward," before he pulled the door shut behind him. He immediately sighed, reaching up to rub his face.

I don't think anyone realizes how hard it is to be the leader who walks the line between being too strict and being too lenient. He shook his head, moving down the hall toward his own room. And with Edward, I don't know if I'll get to see the results. If we get him back to his world, I'll never know if I managed to teach him anything. Though, he supposed it didn't matter. He was going to do his best to give Edward what he needed.

September 12th, 2012

"Steroids?" Reid pursed his lips contemplatively. He knew Ed had mentioned something about the idea off-handedly, but between his recovery and the chaos of closing the case, they hadn't really talked about it. "It would definitely change the composition of your body." He tapped his pen against Rossi's kitchen countertop, looking down at his notes. "I also wanted to ask about numerology in your world. Or just the significance of numbers. I was hoping we might be able to adjust the formula of the matrix with some geometric calculations."

"Well…" Ed rested one arm on the granite, the other propping his head up. "I always heard the number nine was pretty important, but not in a scientific way. More like a superstitious one."

Rossi lifted his wine glass. "That fits with our theory of Germany and Amestris being connected. Multiples of three—especially nine—were significant in Germanic paganism. I don't know the time period when that idea was popular." He gave Reid a smirk. "That would be a question for you, but it could be a connection." He sipped his wine.

JJ rubbed her temple, sitting at the opposite end of the bar from Rossi. "Well, seven is seen as the number of perfection or completeness, but… I don't know the origins that well. I think it's Middle Eastern?"

"Eastern and Israeli cultures, actually," Reid corrected. "But if the Ishvalans are a parallel of the Jews during World War 2, then it's not impossible that those concepts would bleed into Amestrian alchemy."

Emily tilted her head back. "So, if we look at math… seven and nine is sixteen… seven times nine is sixty-three… there's also pi, which is probably significant due to the need for a circular matrix. So…"

"3.14 times nine is 28.26. If we multiplied by seven, it would be 21.98. Um, division would be 2.87 for nine and 2.23 for seven." Reid exhaled. "I'll take the next couple days and come up with some numbers."

Morgan swallowed a mouthful of Gatorade and pointed to Ed with his drink-holding hand. "In the meantime, steroids." He leaned back against the counter by the fridge.

"Which you would know all about." Hotch smirked against the rim of his chocolate milk glass, standing just a few feet away with his back to the sink.

Morgan gave him an unimpressed look, ignoring the laughter from his teammates. "Anyway. There's different options, and I need to have an idea of where to start." He shrugged. "I mean, other than just asking for ones that make you taller." And he took a drink.

"Hey!" Ed slammed his hands on the bar. "Who are you callin' a tiny little shrimp you might step on if you weren't careful?!"

There was more laughter, and then Morgan waved it off. "Steroids can actually stunt growth in adolescents, so it wouldn't work for you, anyways. But really, what are we looking for? I would think steroids for strength and endurance would be our best bet, and we need to find someone who can advise us on the short-term effects it causes in teen boys."

Emily sucked air through her teeth. "I don't like this."

"I don't, either," Morgan agreed. "That's why I'm talking to a professional. If they say this could have long-term effects of any kind—"

"Like losing my gallbladder or being trapped in an alternate dimension isn't a long-term effect," Ed muttered.

There was a brief silence, and then Hotch cleared his throat. "We'll do a cost-benefit analysis when we have more information." There was a finality in his voice that said that was what they would be doing. Period.

"What if we combined the numbers with the concept of improving the body?" JJ suggested tugging the hem of her pale blue button down. "Looking at the numeric values of the chemicals in his body. Not just giving Ed general supplements to strengthen him like we did before, but actually getting some blood tests done."

Rossi drained his glass, leaning back in his barstool. "That should be doable. You don't need a doctor to get bloodwork, and we won't need proof of insurance if I can find it in my generous heart to cover the expenses myself."

"Maybe—" JJ cut herself off, pulling her phone from her pocket. "Henry has a bit of a head cold, so I just want to…" She looked at the screen for a moment and stood up, grabbing her purse from the counter. "He's awake and asking for me. With me being gone for the last—"

"You don't have to justify going home, JJ." Reid smiled warmly. "Tell Henry we said hello."

JJ smiled back, slinging her bag over her shoulder and wrapping the other arm around Ed's frame. "We'll get'cha there, Ed."

Ed mirrored her expression. "I'll be fine. Just… give your son a big hug and a kiss and a bowl of hot soup, okay?"

"Of course." JJ tousled the blonde hair, but she shared a sad look with Reid when she passed him.

"It's nearly one in the morning, and we got back four hours ago," Hotch commented. "Let's all get some sleep, catch up on our reports tomorrow, and go into the weekend with the goal of getting this done." He finished his milk and put the glass in the sink.

"Yes, sir," was echoed around the room.

Reid stood up and stretched his arms over his head, feeling his shoulders, neck, back… and essentially everything else pop with the movement. "I guess I can try and sleep…" he glanced at Ed and saw a somber expression he assumed resulted from Ed thinking about his mom. "Hey, I'll text you tomorrow."

"Sure." Ed flashed a grin, but he didn't get up from his seat, even though everyone else was finishing their drinks and saying farewell.

Reid stepped away from the bar and stopped, turning back around. "Ed, are you—?"

"Just waiting to ask Agent Rossi a question." Ed gave him another confident look, but it was clear he had a lot on his mind.

"Okay." Reid hesitated for another moment and then started walking out.

Emily quickly fell in step beside him, lowering her voice. "Don't worry."

"You heard us, huh?"

"I could only hear a couple words, but the looks on both your faces was enough." She smiled, elbowing him in the side. "You don't have to make it better every single time. We're all here for him, and we can all help."

Reid huffed a laugh. "I know. I…" He trailed, trying to find words to describe how it felt to be in the older brother role. Not just a protector, because he did that all the time as an agent, but a support system. Trying to help someone emotionally, and not because they had experienced some unearthly trauma from the killer he was hunting down, but because they just needed support and some help understanding what was going on in their head. "I know."

He trusted Rossi to do what Ed needed, he just couldn't quite let go of his desire to be hands-on. But he did trust Rossi, so he was going to let it go. He was going to go home and get some sleep… and maybe surreptitiously text Rossi and ask for an update.

September 12th, 2012

Rossi folded his arms over his chest, waiting until he heard the door close to give Ed an invitation. "What's up, kid?"

Ed looked down at the countertop, drumming his gloved fingers. "I… wanted to talk to you because you're the oldest, so I think you'd have the most experience."

Excuse me? It would have been said out loud, but Rossi could tell Ed had something serious on his mind, so he set aside the mild indignation. "I'll give any advice I can."

"I…" Ed squinted, tilting his head slightly, and then he looked at Rossi, golden eyes earnest. "Do governments and nations and militaries ever… stop hurting each other?"

Frowning, Rossi considered the question, not wanting to blurt out the obvious 'no' that jumped to the front of his mind. "I think humans in general have the capability to do great good, great evil, and everything in between. Because governments and nations and militaries are made up of people, I believe they are the same." He shrugged his shoulders. "That means sometimes they pass laws that help people, and sometimes they fight wars to protect those who need protecting. But, unfortunately, there are other times when the opposite is true."

Ed averted his gaze, nodding slowly as he chewed on the concept. He pressed his lips together, making a variety of faces with his brow perpetually creased.

"What's on your mind, Ed?" Rossi uncrossed his arms and interlaced his fingers, resting his hands on his stomach in a less guarded, confrontational position.

"I… I heard some people talking about 9/11… and I got curious, so I looked it up." Ed wet his lips. "I think it's so cool that you've invented a way to fly, but when I saw those planes hit the towers…" He shook his head, looking back at Rossi. "Alchemy is such an incredible science, but I've heard so many horror stories that wouldn't have been possible without it. I was literally on my way back from a conversation about the Ishvalan War of Extermination when I got sucked into this world, and I just…" He lifted his hands, fingers curled in frustration, like he wanted to grab something and shake it. "I want to learn everything I can about this world and take it back to mine—like the concept of a plane—and I want to do it to improve my world, but… what if it just leads to more suffering?"

Rossi took a deep breath. "That's a tough one." He chose his words carefully, but he already had an answer in mind due to his own time spent ruminating on the thought. "Humanity is flawed. No matter what you create, there will always be some people who will distort it. We create new medicines, and people abuse them or traffic them to entice others to abuse them. We invent cars, and people drive recklessly, sometimes under the influence of drugs and alcohol. We create a worldwide web to give millions of people access to information they couldn't get before, and people look up ways to build bombs or get away with murder." He took another breath, lifting his right hand and making a twisting gesture, like he was physically turning the topic over. "On the other hand, those medicines help reduce pain and symptoms from mental illness. Cars enable us to travel farther and faster, including rushing an injured person to a hospital or getting police to the scene of a crime as fast as possible. The internet, and everything on it, can teach you all kinds of things that improve your life, and even the bad parts can be useful to teach you warning signs and behaviors you'll see in dangerous and abusive people."

Ed swallowed, struggling to take in the information.

"We all want free will, but an unfortunate side effect of free will is that we cannot control what other people do, and sometimes… the things they do are horrific. But that doesn't mean you don't put something into the world just because you know some people will use it for evil." Rossi cleared his throat and offered a closing concept. "I believe that things like good and evil can't be measured. You can do the same evil act or the same good act to different people, in different places, in different times, and it will have different impacts. Because of that, it's impossible to calculate if bringing something like alchemy into the world is worth it. Will there be more good acts than bad? If there are, will those fewer bad acts cause so much damage that they outweigh the impact of the good acts? Could the opposite happen?" He shrugged. "We can't know something like that, and trying to figure out the answer will only drive us insane."

Ed nodded slowly, eyes wandering back down and moving around, like he was literally searching for answers he hoped would be written somewhere on the floor or the counter. "I was afraid you'd say that." He sighed. "That there isn't a clear answer, and we can't know." He rubbed his forehead. "If I take what I learn here back to my world, I just… have to accept that people are going to do horrible things with it, somehow, someway."

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Rossi nodded his head. "It's the state of the world." But he didn't want to beat the kid down with the dark side of reality—he got the idea Ed had seen more than enough of that to last him a lifetime—so he continued. "But it's not your job to fix the world. It's not any one person's job to fix the world. You do what you can in your own personal bubble, and you learn the impact you have has to be enough." He waited until Ed looked up at him to continue. "Remember how I said good and evil have different impacts on different people? What you do, no matter how small it is, could have a huge impact on someone's life. You never know when your kind words are the thing someone needs to not kill themselves that day. You never know when your compliment is received by someone who spends every day getting torn down by their family at home." He repeated himself, putting emphasis on the words. "You can't measure good and evil. So do what you can, and don't waste your life trying to figure out if your impact was more one than the other."

Ed gave another nod, thoughtful, and after a few seconds, a smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. "Thanks, Agent Rossi. I need to think about it, but… what you said made sense." He tilted his head slightly. "I feel like the older I get, the more complicated everything becomes. Trying to walk that line between what you said—not obsessing over your impact—and realizing that you do have an impact and taking responsibility for the impact you make. You don't want to brush it off, but you don't want to drive yourself insane, so…" He shook his head, letting out a sigh. "I guess it's just a part of growing up, huh?"

"Unfortunately, it's part of being human." Rossi chuckled softly. "You'll make more sense of things as you get older, but… I mean, I still have these questions in my head. I'm still trying to figure out why the world works the way it does and what I can do to change it." He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. "It's life. It's the world. It's—"

"It's truth," Ed sighed.

"Yeah." Rossi echoed the noise. "It's a bit of a somber note to end the night on." He glanced toward the bottle on the counter, and after a moment of contemplation, he stretched his hand out and grabbed it. "JJ gave you an MP3 player, right? How are you liking the music?"

Ed smiled, and he seemed a little lighter. "It's really interesting. I was talking to JJ about the different genres, and I like how they use the same instruments to make, somehow, different music." He grinned a little wider. "I'm excited to get back to my world and see what kind of music we have. I've never really paid much attention to it, but I know we have it, and I'm wondering if we have all these different kinds, and I just never knew about it?"

"I think music is pretty universal—maybe multi-universal." Rossi chuckled, filling his glass and taking a sip. "Even in our world, the music changes depending on where you are."

Ed spread his hands slightly, growing more enthusiastic. "I know, and once I'm back in my world, I have to talk to Ling and Lan Fan about the music in Xing. It's all the way on the other side of the desert, so nothing from either of our countries really makes it to the other. Of course, Ling got himself into some trouble…" he trailed off, looking nervous for a moment, "…but we're gonna get him back, and when we do, I can ask him all about his home country. I should ask about the food, because he eats like you wouldn't believe, so he must have tried everything they have to offer by now…"

Rossi smiled against his glass as Ed slipped into a ramble, and he was happy to see the teen growing lighter the longer he talked about his universe. From Xing, and his interest in learning about their version of alchemy, to his own hometown and things like the Sheep Festival they had every year. Rossi was exhausted—even the time they all spent sleeping on the plane hadn't been enough to catch up—but he wasn't going to be the one to leave the table first, so he took another drink and settled in for the duration of Ed's reminiscing.