AN: This is my first Criminal Minds fic and my first thing on this site. I did actually read the rules and guidelines and they scared the crap out of me. If you decide to comment, please be honest. I hope I do an okay job with the characters and make a believable scenario. I'm not shipping anyone but there will be a little bit fluff (mostly with Morgan and Reid) that I feel we don't get enough of canon. This is a Reid-centric fic. Thanks for REIDing ;)

WARNING: More than just a mention of eating disorders. That's literally the topic of this fic.

The sound of the jet's engine was all he could hear humming in his ears. His eyes blurred as he attempted to make out the words on the page of the book sitting in his hands. God, he must've been tired. He looked away from the page to focus his thoughts, wondering why he was having such a hard time. Recall was no problem, thankfully, and he quickly played back everything that had happened on the case they had just closed. It wasn't anything extraordinary. Arson was easy to profile, especially when the Unsub happened to keep a detailed online blog about everything bad that happened to him. Reid almost had felt bad for the guy. That is, before he tried to set Reid on fire. The sympathy ended there.

He went further back to the beginning of the case.

"First and only victim: Elena Bruce, Caucasian female, brunette, twenty-three. It looks to have been an accidental death; smoke inhalation. Our Unsub isn't using fire as a cover for murder, he..."

Not useful at this time. He zoomed through and enjoyed the slightly unclear memories of dreams. Those were a break from the incessant details that he could access but also proved that he had gotten enough sleep. So what-

Oh. It hit him. Food. He had forgotten to eat the whole three days they were in Arizona. He looked around suspiciously at the others on the jet. Prentiss across from him was asleep. Rossi, Morgan, and Hotch were sitting at the table talking in hushed voices about something Reid didn't care to know about at the moment. J.J. was alternating staring out the window from the seat across the aisle from the group of men, her head leaning on the glass and probably making a mark on her forehead.

For some reason now Reid felt like they would all be onto him, as if his own realisation that he was going hungry had suddenly registered to all of their minds as well. Instead of that impossible event, something different registered for Reid: Nobody had noticed. They'd been with him the whole time. He'd seen them eat and get each other things, but no one brought anything for him. No one asked him if he was hungry or if he needed something.

Was it because he was unapproachable? Did he look too busy? Had the others asked for themselves in order to provoke the concern of the other team members?

Or did they just not care enough to notice?

The scientist he was, he decided to test what he thought was the most likely of his theories. That happened to be the last. He would see how long it took for them to figure out that something was wrong. Now that he was conscious of this idea to not eat, it should be noticeable to the other profilers. It was their job, after all, to figure out what was wrong based on reactions. Reid figured that if he could continue for any more than a week without anyone saying or implying anything, then his theory would be proven. The next step was a bridge he would cross when he came to it.

Liberation struck him. It felt good to have a plan. He smiled to himself and looked back down to his book, reading at what he estimated to be only 6,000 words per minute. Glasses could hopefully help that side effect.

The next day...

They had all gone home except Hotch and Rossi the night before, those two to finish some paperwork that was apparently urgent. Reid offered to stay and help but Rossi had forbidden him from it, having noticed on the plane how disconnected Reid had been and how his reading pace had slowed. The younger agent gladly (for once) obliged.

He felt pretty terrible when he woke up. He was shaking, the world was always on a slight tilt, and his eyes couldn't seem to be able to focus on any one thing for more than three seconds. Sleeping hadn't much helped.

Deciding that the 'not eating' thing didn't have to deprive him of his coffee, he put the kettle on as he changed for work and took what he made with him in his car.

He walked into work convinced that if he hadn't had the coffee he wouldn't have been able to drive. He had waited too long at two green lights and nearly ran a red. Public transport was a last resort (all those germs and people so close sometimes they would touch you) but he figured it would be a better option than getting into a car crash. That would be an addition to his plan.

He set his empty coffee cup down on his desk and hooked his messenger bag over the back of his chair before sitting down and glancing over his stacks of papers. With a sigh he got to work.

Sometimes his own proficiency amazed him. He was finished with nearly all of his work by 1:30 when Garcia approached him.

He rolled back in his chair and smiled up at her, raising his eyebrows a little, in greeting.

"How's my Kid Wonder doing?" She grinned as she completed her trek over to him.

"I'm good, how about you?" He cringed inwardly at the generic question and answer. He hated small talk.

"Super. I've been making my rounds to the others and checking up in person, you know, like how I do sometimes, and it seems like some magical work fairy has somehow made all of our dreams come true."

"What do you-" He started only to be cut off by Garcia who raised her voice above his.

"Bap, bap, bap! Let me explain. So the work fairy has made it so that all of the paperwork is magically helping out in filling itself out or something because there is no other explanation as to why everyone's been working so damn fast today. I swear, it's unprecedented speed. I talked to Hotch and mentioned the fairy and-besides denying the existence of fairies-he said it would be a good night for us to go out an do something. All of us, how we barely ever get to do. I wanted to ask you to join us last after everyone else had already agreed because I figured you'd be the least likely to go if not everyone else was going. Don't debate with me about that; you do turn us down a lot individually." She took a deep breath to make up for her speed, then added: "I don't know how you talk so fast all the time. That really takes a lot out of you."

Reid couldn't help a smile. He crossed his legs up and rocked back in his chair,

"Of course I'll come. I only have four papers left; when can we leave?" The perfect time to do something obvious-to see if they said anything when it was so in their faces that they were sure to figure out something was off.

"Before 3:00, Hotch thinks. I'll call you when I know exact time and place." She offered another excited grin before scuttling off.

"Thanks, Garcia." Reid mumbled after her, knowing she probably didn't hear.

How had he not seen before all of the evidence pointing to his theory. He was the last one she had asked, not because she thought he would say no, but because he didn't matter as much as the others. It was obvious. He was so stupid for not seeing it before. His obliviousness sparked a need to retake the IQ test. He couldn't help the suspicion that it was off by at least thirty.

That night...

Reid wasn't one to drink, but this time it felt good. It was too loud to enjoy himself any other way, and he had already told himself that the point was not to eat; nothing liquid-specific there.

Morgan seemed more impressed than worried.

"Wow, Kid. I didn't know you could be such a heavyweight." Morgan bumped into Reid and made his skin tingle where they had touched. It wasn't a pleasant sensation.

"Yeah, well..." He didn't have a good comeback. He was too focused on rolling down his sleeves and making sure they stayed down. The word 'heavyweight' resonated within his skull. He knew it was said meaning he could take more alcohol than Morgan had anticipated, but something about the phrasing made him tick. He passed it off to him being more than tipsy. He was probably misinterpreting.

"You look like you're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow." Morgan said it like a joke, but Reid knew it was true.

"Good thing tomorrow is probably not gonna be filled with a whole lot of things to do." Reid shook his head in frustration. He couldn't stop his words from slurring.

Morgan noticed this, "Why don't you stay at my place tonight. I haven't had much, but I'm not sober. Wouldn't be drunk driving-better than you at the wheel-but I don't want to go any farther than I have to. Your place is way out of the way."

"Taxis are a thing, you know." Reid leaned back against the bar casually, feeling the need to support himself in a world that just seemed to keep tipping.

"After that case two weeks ago no way am I letting a drunk friend ride home with a stranger alone." Morgan laughed to assuage the serious nature of his comment.

"I'm not drunk." Reid slurred. His hand slipped from the bar and he nearly fell just standing.

"Just like I'm Moses. Kid, this is the drunkest I've ever seen you. I'm not letting you drive yourself home and I'm not leaving you alone with a stranger. Okay?"

Reid sighed in defeat, unable to come up with a counterargument, "Alright. What time is it?"

Morgan checked his watch, "Uh... two AM. Damn, we've been out a while. Pretty sure it's just us left here. I just saw J.J. and Prentiss leave."

Reid nodded in comprehension, "Is it just me or does the name Prentiss kind of sound like a preying mantis?"

Morgan shook his head with a smile, "Let's get you out of here."

"One more, just one more." Reid suggested. Apparently Morgan had a veto power.

Reid was ushered through a crowd and out into the cold air of Virginia in the wee hours of the morning. It was a good thing Morgan's car wasn't far because Reid was having some trouble standing. In his opinion Reid really couldn't handle alcohol that well, but tonight he had proven himself wrong. He couldn't ignore that Morgan was caring enough about him to let him sleep at his house that night. His hypotheses could be wrong.

When they were in Morgan's car it was quiet, and Reid recalled in that noiseless bubble how much he liked the silence and questioned why he had been feeling up to 'partying' like the others tonight.

The illusion of a bubble of comfort was disturbed by Morgan's voice.

"How much do you weigh that you could drink like that?"

Reid was taken by surprise.