Hotch stood at the window, looking out over the bullpen. They were between field cases, just working on consult requests and outstanding paperwork. The quiet before the storm that probably wouldn't hold off until after the weekend. Unsubs rarely considered the weekend plans of those on the other side when they did their work.

At first glance everything seemed to normal. Morgan and Garcia were up to their usual, semi HR inappropriate banter as she collected files from some and handed out files to others. Prentiss was working though a file with Seaver.

And then there was Reid. Reid who had slipped in right on the dot instead of his usual few minutes early. Reid who had taken to wearing his sunglasses until he got to his deck. Reid who didn't think anyone noticed the almost hourly aspirin hits sometimes for 3 to 4 days at a time, the even darker circles under his eyes, the way his clothes were hanging off his already too skinny frame or the long moments of closing his eyes and flinching like he was in pain.

Maybe the others hadn't noticed. Or perhaps just one or two 'isolated' moments. But he certainly noticed. He noticed very time. It was part of his job to notice. He had hoped after eight years Reid would be over his issue, his paranoia, that everyone was looking for proof that he was unfit. That he couldn't handle the job. That he was weak. He had hoped that Reid had learned to trust them to have his back, whether the problem was a gun at his head or something else.

Clearly he was wrong. Something was going on with Reid and Hotch knew he had to act. He had to know what was going on. For the sake of the team and especially for Reid's sake. He's refused to admit there could be a problem once before. Hotch had had proof that Tobias Hinkle was a drug addict, and the likelihood that Reid had been forcibly dosed with something from the works the CSIs found in the cabin. He hadn't wanted to believe that there might have been more drugs, that Reid might have removed them. But Reid had had opportunity and his behavior afterwards was questionable. Hotch wanted to believe that Reid was resisting the urge. That it was withdrawal not use. Hotch couldn't bring himself to believe anything else. He was relieved when Reid didn't deny attending meetings. When eventually the kid pulled himself back together.

But it happened again and again. Each time Reid slipping, each time refusing to ask for help, each time a little worse than the time before. And this time it could break Reid into a thousand unfixable pieces.

Hotch knew he had to act. He knew that he had to know. Even if it meant desperate measures. Measures that might get him fired, certainly make Reid and perhaps the rest of the team hate him for life. But if it kept Reid in one piece, it was worth the risk.