"Hey, did Reid tell you that Rossi's giving us all a cooking lesson at his house tonight?" Garcia asked. "Sorry, his 'mansion'?"

"Who's 'us'?" Jessica responded.

"The whole team."

Nearly ten minutes passed before Jessica responded again. "Can't, sorry. My friends and I are doing a study group tonight."

Garcia frowned at this. On a hunch, she looked up Jessica's text records, and saw that Jessica herself had arranged the study group immediately after receiving the invitation to Rossi's. But Garcia couldn't call her out on it without admitting to (probably illegal) snooping, so she feigned ignorance. "If you change your mind, you'll still be welcome."

"Thanks for the invite."

Reid was the last to arrive at Rossi's, and everyone was disappointed to see that he arrived alone. "Was Jessica not interested?" Hotch asked. "I thought she loved cooking."

Reid gave a half-hearted shrug. "She's busy with schoolwork."

"She's taken schoolwork to Quantico before," Rossi pointed out.

"And hasn't been to Quantico since I came back," Emily observed.

"Hey, she's just started college, it's only natural she'd be busier now," Morgan argued.

"She still found time to bring us all brownies the week before we caught Doyle," JJ retorted. "Come on, Morgan, she's avoiding us. Or at least some of us."

"You're probably right," Reid admitted. "I've tried to talk to her about it, but she keeps insisting she needs to deal with everything on her own."

"I understand that she's upset, but avoidance isn't healthy," Hotch remarked.

"And if I force her to talk to you guys, that will foster resentment," Reid countered. "Can we…get on with the cooking?"

"Assolutamente," Rossi agreed, picking up the spaghetti again.

JJ recognized that both Reid and Hotch had made good points—Jessica needed to talk to them, but forcing her to spend time with them was the wrong way to go about it. Fortunately, JJ had an ace up her sleeve: Henry. Whatever Jessica's feelings about JJ, she would never avoid Henry. So, JJ suggested to Will that they go on a date night that weekend, and they asked Jessica to babysit. She agreed.

JJ decided to wait until after the date to talk. Will put Henry to bed while JJ brought Jessica her payment, and stood in front of the door.

"Thanks," Jessica signed curtly. "Excuse me."

JJ did not move. "We need to talk."

"There's nothing to say."

"Maybe you have nothing to say to me, but I have some things to say to you. Once I've said them, I'll leave you alone for as long as you want."

Jessica sighed. "Fine." She returned to the couch and sat down.

JJ sat next to her. "I know you're upset. Believe me, we wanted to tell you all, but we couldn't. It wasn't that we didn't trust you; the more people who knew, the greater the chance that Doyle would notice something off. For Emily's sake, we had to keep it need-to-know. I'm sorry it had to be that way, but it wasn't about hurting you; it was about protecting Emily."

Jessica gave her a flat look. "Anything else?"

JJ sighed. "That's all."

Jessica huffed in annoyance. "I understand the concept of classified information. Hell, it's been more than two years and I still don't know how or why Spencer ended up nearly dying of poison. And I've never asked. I get why you couldn't tell me. But how did you decide who did need to know?"

"I…" JJ trailed off, surprised by the line of questioning. "Hotch needed to help with some of the paperwork, but that was it."

"And what about Spencer?" Jessica challenged. "I could have dealt with losing Emily, but I barely had the chance because I was too busy dealing with him! You of all people should have known what that would do to him!"

"What…he…" JJ swallowed. "He didn't…did he?"

"Only because it happened to be a Sunday and therefore I was home to catch him!" Jessica snapped. "And yes, I know he seems to be getting over it, and he's allowed to, but he's not the only one affected. Did you know that I check him and his stuff for drugs at least once a week, minimum? The day we lost Emily wasn't even the first time I found some! And then I had to stay home from school the next day, because I was genuinely afraid to leave him unsupervised! I was doing drug checks at least once a day for the rest of the school year!" Jessica paused for a few moments, breathing heavily. "Objectively, I know he has it worse than I do, but it still sucks for me. And I am really fucking exhausted." She bent to pick up her bag again.

"I'm…sorry," JJ signed, subdued. "I didn't realize."

"Did you think that after Spencer quit and you moved out, everything had been sunshine and rainbows? You may have helped him get clean, but I'm the one who's had to help him stay that way. I'm the one who's had to live with the constant uncertainty of watching for possible red flags in all the little things he does—all in my own home, the place where I'm supposed to be able to relax. And for the record, I'm not blaming Spencer for any of this; in fact, sometimes I think he's the only one who appreciates everything that I go through." Jessica stood up. "And if you want to make things up to me, you can start by not telling Spencer anything I've just said. He doesn't need to feel any worse about the situation than he already does."

"Your secret's safe with me," JJ promised.

Jessica nodded stiffly, then walked to the door and finally left. JJ stayed on the couch, mulling over the entire conversation in her head. As much as she hated to admit it, Jessica was right—JJ had never given any serious thought to how the whole Dilaudid situation had affected her. JJ had found it unpleasant enough to live with Spencer while he was actively trying to quit; how much worse had it been for Jessica before that? She had been a literal child, completely dependent on Spencer at the time. And now that JJ thought about it, she vaguely recalled Spencer saying that he'd treated Jessica worse than he treated anyone else. Given some of the things he had said to JJ, JJ really didn't want to contemplate what he defined as 'worse'.

JJ finally went upstairs to join Will, no longer convinced that she had handled the Doyle case to the best of her ability.

On Monday evening, Reid received a text from Jessica. "Hey, by any chance did I stick my pre-Colonial history notes in that book you were reading last night?"

Reid opened his bag, pulled out the book and rifled through it. Sure enough, it contained several loose-leaf pages of notes on early Mississippian cultures. "Yes, I've got them here."

"Crap. Any chance you'll be home soon? I kinda need those for an assignment due tomorrow."

"Sorry, we're busy tracking an active killer. Do any of your friends have notes you can borrow?"

"No, I don't have the contact info for any of my history classmates." Jessica sighed as she realized the inevitable solution. "I guess I'll drive to Quantico."

When Jessica arrived at Quantico, the entire team was apparently too busy to come meet her. This scenario usually resulted in Kevin Lynch escorting her to the sixth floor, but he had apparently gone home already. Jessica was stuck waiting for nearly fifteen minutes until Anderson finally came down and handed her the missing history notes.

Garcia walked into the bullpen, looking incredibly nervous. "An FBI police officer was just found shot to death in the Academy parking structure."

"Dolan's already here," Rossi realized.

Reid quickly looked around. To his great concern, Anderson had not yet returned to the bullpen. He pulled out his phone and shot off a rapid text to Jessica. "If you're still in the building, get to cover IMMEDIATELY."

There was no response.

Five minutes later, Reid learned that Garcia was in the room with all the Quantico security camera feeds. He shot a text to her instead. "Is Jessica on any of the cameras?"

"No, sorry. And neither is Dolan."

Reid sent another text to Jessica. There was still no response.

Ten minutes later, Dolan was safely in custody, and Jessica still hadn't responded. Anderson finally returned to the bullpen, and Reid quickly moved to intercept him. "Where's Jessica?"

"She left right before we went into lockdown," Anderson replied. "I assume she's well on her way back to Washington by now."

"She…right." Reid suddenly felt a bit silly; he hadn't even considered the possibility that Jessica might be ignoring his texts because she was driving. "Thanks."

Half an hour later, Jessica finally pulled into the garage and pulled out her phone to see who'd been repeatedly messaging her. To her surprise, she had a series of increasingly-panicked texts from Spencer. She quickly typed out a reply. "I'm fine, I just got home. What the heck happened over there?"

"The unsub broke into Quantico around the same time you left. He's in custody now; the whole team is fine."

"I am never sticking my notes in a book without checking the cover ever again."

"That sounds like an excellent resolution."

The following week, Spencer's thirtieth birthday would be on Wednesday. Jessica naturally wanted to plan a celebration, but this raised the question of who to invite. Spencer seemed to be on good terms with the whole team again, and it was his day, so logically, Jessica should invite them. And besides, the more Jessica thought about it, the more she recognized that none of them had meant any harm. None of them would have ever wanted Spencer to relapse; they simply weren't as constantly aware of the danger. And as for Emily and the online Scrabble, that really just went to show how much Emily must have missed her. So, in conclusion, it was time for Jessica to stop giving them the cold shoulder and invite the whole team.

…Then again, if they really cared as much about Spencer as they claimed to, then they shouldn't need Jessica to remind them that Spencer had such an important milestone coming up. They could celebrate in the office; Jessica knew they'd done that before. Meanwhile, she would arrange a non-work celebration for him.

"Hey, did you know that Spencer's birthday is on Wednesday?"

Maeve read the message, surprised. "No, he never mentioned that."

"If you'd like to plan a surprise for him, I can make myself VERY scarce that night," Jessica offered. A few moments later, she added a second message. "I will of course be assuming that the surprise is completely G-rated, and I will close my eyes if anyone tries to tell me otherwise."

Maeve laughed at this. "I may take you up on that. We'll probably do something completely scandalous, like holding hands."

"Exactly! Glad you understand." Jessica followed this up with a smiley face.

On Wednesday morning, Spencer entered the kitchen and found a plate of cinnamon rolls arranged in the shape of the number 30. "Congratulations on making it to 30 with your mind intact," Jessica signed, smiling.

"Thank you," Spencer replied, smiling back at her.

"This is for you," Jessica continued. She pulled a small box out of her backpack and set it next to the cinnamon rolls. "Have fun figuring out how to open it."

"Thanks," Spencer signed again. He elected to set the box aside for later and focus on eating cinnamon rolls now.

Unfortunately, the team got a case that day, so the date with Maeve had to be postponed. Spencer solved the puzzle box on the plane to Boise, and found a small piece of paper inside. He unfolded it, revealing a short message in Jessica's handwriting.

"Admit it, solving the box was more fun than anything I could have put inside it."

Spencer let out a small snort of laughter. She was probably right.

Ultimately, the team got home late on Friday night. The following morning, Spencer discovered a chocolate cake sitting on the kitchen island. He was about to help himself, then he thought better of it and went to Jessica's room. "Did Morgan help you make that cake?" he asked.

Jessica looked thoroughly confused. "No, why would he?"

"We've gotten into a bit of a prank war, and it's his move."

Jessica raised an eyebrow. "If I was helping him prank you, do you really think I would admit it?"

"No, but you would have been a lot more defensive about it."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "In other words, you weren't really asking, you just wanted to profile my reaction."

"Your reactions can be very revealing," Spencer replied. "For example, I know there's something you're still not telling me about your friend Eve."

Jessica instantly stiffened, then visibly forced herself to relax. "That was totally not fair. And also none of your business."

Spencer was slightly disappointed not to get more information out of her, but currently more interested in cake. "Well, given your reaction to that, I think it's safe to say you really haven't pranked the cake. So, thank you." He returned to the kitchen to cut himself a slice, fending off Bianca's attempts to sneak a bite.

"Four pairs of shoes," Morgan remarked, walking away from Marlene Smith's closet.

"Why exactly is that relevant?" Reid wondered.

"Come on, Reid, how many women do you know who only have four pairs of shoes in their closet?" Morgan asked rhetorically.

"Jessica has six and I've only seen three of Maeve's," Reid answered promptly. "My mother had twenty-two at one point, but…I don't think she's really the best control sample."

Morgan stopped walking and rubbed his head. "Ah, geez." No wonder Reid had such a skewed perception of women and their shoes. "Trust me on this, kid: when it comes to women's shoes, your mother was actually the normal one."

"Really?" Reid said disbelievingly. "Why would any mentally stable woman need twenty-two pairs of shoes?"

"Why don't you ask JJ and Emily? Or Garcia?"

Reid frowned. "I will." He paused, still frowning, then spoke again. "Are you saying I should be worried about Jessica and Maeve? Should I buy them some more shoes?"

"No. Unless their rooms look like this, I think we can probably chalk them up as oddities of the female gender. Let them buy their own shoes."

"I've always bought Jessica's shoes for her," Reid argued. "It's my responsibility to provide her with essentials like that."

Morgan shook his head again. "All right, let me rephrase: let them decide if they want more shoes. Now come on, we've gotta report all this to Hotch."

Reid followed Morgan out of the house, still confused.

Reid did not get a chance to ask the women about shoes until their return to Quantico, and he left the conversation feeling even more confused than before. He decided to ask Jessica when he got home; given her comparatively sensible approach to shoes, perhaps she could describe other women in a way that made sense.

As soon as Spencer opened the front door, Bianca ran up to him, caterwauling loudly. Spencer set down his bag with a frown. This wasn't Bianca's usual 'hello, pet me' meow; she seemed to be very upset about something. He followed her into the kitchen, and immediately saw why Bianca was so agitated.

A roast chicken lay on the floor, surrounded by spilled marinade and an upside-down baking dish. Jessica lay slumped against the fridge a few feet away, visibly shaking. Her feet were covered in marinade, and what skin was visible had turned an angry red. Spencer hurriedly picked his way through the mess and crouched at her side. "Are you okay?"

Jessica shook her head, tears in her eyes.

"Can you stand?"

Jessica shook her head again.

Spencer looked around the kitchen, trying to figure out what to do next. Obviously, Jessica's feet needed to be cleaned up, but the question was where to do so. On one hand, the kitchen sink was closer; on the other hand, the bathtub would have a lot more room. After a few moments, Spencer decided on the bathtub.

"Okay, I'm going to carry you to the bathroom. Can you put your arms around my neck?"

Jessica nodded and reached up to do so. Spencer carefully maneuvered his arms underneath her, then took a deep breath and hoisted himself to his feet. He opted to avoid the mess in the kitchen and instead carried her through the living room. Wryly, he reflected that carrying her now was much easier than it had been when she had pneumonia; at least this time she was fully awake and trying to help.

At last, after what felt like far too long, Spencer set Jessica down on the edge of the bathtub. He turned on the water, making sure it was cool but not too cold. "Keep your feet under the faucet," he instructed. "I'm going to grab the first aid kit."

Jessica gratefully stuck her feet into the water. A few moments later, Spencer returned and found her leaning against the wall with her eyes closed. He debated whether to get her attention, then decided to let her relax. He opened the first aid kit and verified that it had everything they needed.

Eventually, Jessica opened her eyes and looked back at him. "Are you going to ask what happened?"

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Judging by the state of the kitchen, I thought the answer was obvious."

Jessica grimaced. "I tried to use my knee to close the oven instead of setting down the chicken first. Turns out I hadn't fully lifted it out of the way yet."

Spencer gave her a worried look. "How long had you been there before I found you?"

"I don't know. What time is it?"

Spencer glanced at his watch. "6:58."

"Really? I guess it had only been about fifteen minutes, then. Felt like way longer. I couldn't even reach my phone to text for help."

Spencer shuddered. "Thank god we came home today."

"I don't bother making things like roast chicken when you're not here anyway," Jessica replied. "If you hadn't said you were going to be home by 7:00, I was just going to make pasta."

"And that involves hot liquid too," Spencer pointed out.

"But not ovens," Jessica countered.

"True," Spencer conceded. The conversation lapsed again.

A minute later, Jessica suddenly started. "Shouldn't we do something with the chicken before Bianca makes herself sick?"

"Good point. I'll be right back." Spencer checked his watch again. "You should keep your feet in the water for another two minutes."

"Okay." Jessica closed her eyes again, not really looking forward to the prospect of leaving the nice, cool water.

Two minutes later, the water turned off, and Jessica reluctantly opened her eyes again. Spencer set a bottle of lotion next to her. "You need to apply this to the burn. Do you want to do it yourself, or do you want me to do it for you?"

"I can do it," Jessica responded.

"Okay." Spencer carefully set her phone on top of the toilet tank, just within her reach. "I'm going to clean up the kitchen. If you need me before I come back, text me."

Jessica nodded and began applying lotion. Her feet were extremely sensitive to the touch, but the lotion did at least provide some relief. She looked mournfully at the faucet, wishing she could have stayed under the running water for longer.

Spencer returned just as Jessica was finishing up. "All right, now we need to bandage your feet."

Jessica swallowed. "Can you do that? You'd probably have a less awkward angle."

Spencer nodded. "Of course." He grabbed some gauze and sat down at the other end of the tub. Jessica shifted to hold her feet out to him, and Spencer carefully wrapped them in the gauze.

"Do I need anything else?" Jessica asked once he was done.

"Would you like some ibuprofen?" Spencer offered.

"I think I'm okay." Jessica took a deep breath, then swung her feet onto the bathroom floor and tried to stand up. She instantly fell back with a gasp of pain, and Spencer caught her before she could hit her head on the wall. "On second thought, ibuprofen sounds good."

Spencer grabbed the ibuprofen from the first aid kit and handed it to her. "Looks like it's my turn to do as many things as I can so you don't have to walk."

Jessica popped a pill in her mouth and swallowed it. "Want to trade back?" she asked wryly.

"I don't think that's really an option," Spencer replied. "How about I order a pizza? Your roast chicken is no longer fit to eat, and I for one am hungry."

"Works for me," Jessica agreed.

Jessica had hoped she might feel better after a good night's sleep, but instead, she felt worse. She didn't even bother trying to stand up; just moving her feet underneath the covers had her wincing in pain. She pulled out her phone and texted Spencer instead. "Help. I don't think I can get up."

Less than a minute later, Spencer entered her room, frowning worriedly. "I'm taking you to urgent care."

Jessica groaned. "Great. How the hell do I make it to the car?"

Spencer grimaced. "Now I really wish I'd accepted a wheelchair after I was shot. I'll figure something out." He walked over to her dresser. "Any preference for clothing?"

"Not really."

Spencer grabbed a random shirt and pair of sweatpants and tossed them at her. He then took a step toward her closet…and suddenly froze.

"Something wrong?" Jessica asked.

"No, just…during our last case, I learned that it is apparently not normal for a woman to have as few shoes as you do, and I'd been meaning to ask you about that. It's not really important right now, though."

Jessica shuddered. "Please don't make me wear shoes today. That sounds like torture."

"Okay. I'll let you change." Spencer headed back out of the room, still pondering the problem of how to get Jessica to the car. It was one thing to carry her around the apartment—and that was already strenuous enough—but there was no way he could carry her all the way down to the garage. At least one of them would need their hands free to open doors and press the elevator buttons. It would be very helpful if they had a rolling chair of some kind, but unfortunately, they did not.

Although…Spencer knew that Gideon had a rolling desk chair at his current place. Perhaps Gideon could lend it to them. He pulled out his phone and dialed Gideon's number.

Once Jessica finished getting dressed, she stared forlornly around her room. She'd never thought of the room as particularly large before, but now that she couldn't simply walk around it, the room felt enormous. She was actually starting to feel a bit envious of Spencer's old knee injury; he might not have been able to walk normally, but at least he'd been able to move around on his own. Jessica was pretty much stuck. Unless she wanted to crawl, and she really didn't fancy doing that in the parking garage. Or at all, honestly.

Fortunately, Spencer eventually returned with good news. "Gideon's going to bring his desk chair so we can use it as a makeshift wheelchair."

Jessica heaved a sigh of relief. "That's good." She glanced at her closet. "And by the way, I really don't get why other girls have so many shoes either. I've pretty much decided that shoes, like sex, are just something where I am never going to understand why so many people are obsessed with it."

"JJ said they need to match skirts and belts."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "I don't even own any belts. And honestly, so long as things don't clash horribly, that's good enough for me. Black or white shoes work decently with just about anything."

"All of Maeve's shoes are either black or white too," Spencer agreed. "And they all look nice no matter what she's wearing."

Jessica snorted. "Do you have any idea how many girls would love to have a boyfriend who actually notices their outfits like that? I'm surprised Maeve isn't having to beat off competition with a stick."

"Why would she use a stick?" Spencer asked blankly.

Jessica sighed. "Forget it. Can we get some breakfast while we're waiting for Gideon to show up?"

Later that morning, JJ and Emily were growing increasingly concerned by the absence of the third profiler who should have been in the bullpen with them. Neither Morgan, Garcia, nor Rossi had seen him either. Finally, they all trooped over to Hotch's office, and JJ knocked on the door. "Yes?" Hotch called.

JJ cracked open the door. "Hey, has Spence called out?"

Hotch's head snapped up. "He's still not here?"

"No. Garcia's about ready to ping his cell phone, but I told her we should check with you first."

Hotch raised his voice. "Hold on, Garcia. Let me try calling Reid." He took out his cell phone and placed the call. Seeing that the team had every intention of continuing to crowd around his door, he sighed and put the phone on speaker.

The call went to voicemail.

"Okay, now do I ping him?" Garcia asked worriedly.

Hotch grimaced worriedly. "Go ahead."

Garcia bustled off to her lair, and everyone followed. Just as she was pulling up the program to ping Reid's cell phone, Hotch's phone rang. He checked the caller ID, and was relieved by the name he saw. He answered the phone and put it on speaker again. "Reid."

"Hey, sorry I didn't call sooner. Jessica had a bit of a cooking accident last night, and we're currently at urgent care."

"Oh no! What's wrong?" Garcia piped up worriedly.

"Minor burns and a mild infection to both feet," Reid explained. "We're making arrangements for her to get a wheelchair and a temporary handicapped parking pass."

Emily and JJ shared a look, and Emily spoke. "Well, I'd say tell her I hope she gets better, but…"

"I'll pass it along," Reid promised.

"Pass it along from all of us," JJ suggested.

"Sure," Reid agreed. "Again, I'm really sorry for not calling, but if there's nothing else…"

"Take whatever time you need," Hotch ordered. "See you later."

"Thanks." Reid hung up.

The whole team shared another look, and Morgan shook his head. "If it's not one of them, it's the other. How long had it been since either of them ended up in a hospital?"

"I think they lasted almost two years," Garcia replied. "Reid would know for sure."

"And would probably tell us down to the exact minute," Rossi added wryly.

"All right, back to work everyone," Hotch ordered.

Gideon dropped Jessica and Spencer off at their apartment after lunch. Once the door was closed and locked, Spencer moved into Jessica's line of sight. "All right, do you want to go to the living room or the bedroom? Or somewhere else?"

"Actually, I'd like to try to figure out how to move this thing on my own," Jessica replied. "So could you please move out of the way?"

"Right. Sorry." Spencer moved aside, and watched as Jessica slowly wheeled herself toward the living room. He briefly stepped forward when Bianca trotted up, then restrained himself when Bianca jumped onto Jessica's lap. Jessica clearly didn't need him hovering any more, and he could certainly relate to the desire for independence.

On the other hand, Spencer still very much wanted to help. After a few moments' deliberation, he went into the bathroom to grab some disinfectant wipes. At the very least, he could make very sure that Jessica wouldn't get any more infections.

Ten minutes later, Jessica's phone vibrated. She pulled it out and saw a message from Garcia. "Hey, how are you doing?"

"I think I have figured out how to navigate the apartment without crashing into anything."

"Did Reid tell you we all hope you get better soon?"

"He did, thanks."

"And did he tell you that Emily and JJ were specifically the ones who told him to say that?"

Jessica stared at this, not sure how to respond. It wasn't that she didn't think JJ or Emily cared any more; she just didn't know what to say to them after giving them the cold shoulder for so long. Although, if they were going to the trouble of sending her 'get well' wishes, Jessica supposed she had probably lost any moral high ground she might once have had. The time for cold shoulders was long past. "Tell them I say thanks." She hesitated, then sent another message. "And tell them—and Hotch—that they can tell me that themselves, if they want."

It took nearly a minute for Garcia to respond to that. "And by that, do you mean you won't slam the door in their faces if they show up on your doorstep?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

Garcia smiled victoriously.