Chapter Four

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"There's still a couple of hours before visiting hours at the hospital," he told his friend. "If you think you'd like to tell me what was on your mind the other night, I'm in the mood to listen."

Reid seemed reluctant to meet his eyes. Rossi looked on calmly, pretending not to notice the long fingers drumming against the table, nor making any sign when Reid clued into his own agitation and whipped his hands under the table to hide his involuntary fidgeting.

"You don't have to," Rossi said. "I'm not trying to drag in out of you."

Reid shrugged nervously. "No, I… It's just people don't usually encourage me to talk," he joked.

"First time for everything."

"I'm not certain where to start."

"Start with something simple and go from there."

"Simple, huh? Well, I'm sorry for running out last night," Reid began. "I really didn't expect you to come looking for me. I just had to be by myself for awhile. And I had to… I don't know, do something. I couldn't just lie there in bed any longer."

"I've been there before," Rossi said. "You needed to cool down, to work off your feelings. That's understandable. Everyone has moments like those."

Reid squirmed, still obviously embarrassed, but it was the bleakness in his eyes that Rossi didn't like. They sat silently for a few moments and Rossi thought maybe the conversation had died before it had begun. "We could go somewhere else if you'd like; the breakfast crowd should be coming in soon," the older man offered. "Actually, I'm surprised the place isn't more crowded already."

"Perhaps they find the décor a little inhibiting first thing in the morning," Reid remarked.

Rossi chuckled as he looked around. "It is a little heavy on the pink and sea foam green, isn't it?"

"Wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't mixed with all the aqua and purple as well. And silver. And the black and white checkerboard floors. And those cherry-red starburst clocks on the wall. You lived through the fifties - was it really like this?"

"Is this your way of calling me old? 'Oh, tell me what it was like when dinosaurs ruled the Earth, Grandpa!' "

"No, what I believe I'm doing is implying your generation may have been colour blind," Reid said with a slight smirk.

"So says the man from Vegas. I think if anyone could take the sensory overload of this place it should be a town that lives with the lights of the Las Vegas strip."

"Well, you've got me there," Reid said.

"So do you want to get going?"

Reid shrugged again and Rossi felt the sudden ease of the last few minutes draining away. "I'm in no hurry," Reid said. "Unless there's somewhere you want to go?"

"I'm good," Rossi said. "So tell me, where's your phone?"

"In seventy-one pieces in the trash can of my mother's bathroom at Bennington."

"Ah."

"It was Friday night and - "

"Let me guess: you were in the middle of trying to comfort your mother and it kept ringing and when you finally looked at it, you saw all of our messages scolding for not being at the cooking lesson."

"You didn't send any," Reid argued.

"Maybe not, but I could have told the rest of them to lay off."

"Maybe you agreed with them."

Rossi thought about it. "Honestly, no. At least not completely. Sure, I was a little disappointed when you didn't show, but people have to get over things in their own time. If you're still sniping at J.J. a month from now, I might change my mind, but it seems unfair to paint you as the bad guy just because you're having trouble getting past your resentment according to other people's schedules."

For the first time that morning, Reid was able to meet his gaze, giving Rossi a weary but genuine smile. However, the conversation stalled a bit. The two men watched the pedestrians outside for some time, each unknowingly playing the same game of picking out the tourists from the heavy-duty early morning gamblers. It was just as Rossi was getting up to order some more coffee that Reid suddenly took a deep breath and said:

"Emily was the first person I ever knew who died."

Rossi immediately settled himself again, giving Reid his full attention.

"Well, that's not entirely true," Reid went on. "I did have an Uncle Daniel who died when I was young, but I don't remember him that clearly. Emily was the first person I really knew… or thought I did," he corrected a touch bitterly, "who was taken from me rather than just walking out. I mean, my father, Elle, Gideon, they all left, but they weren't gone. I comforted myself with the idea that they could always come back someday. But Emily was ripped away and I hadn't even gotten the chance to say goodbye and the pain - " He broke off and Rossi had a sudden surge of sympathy for him. It was his first taste of grief - why didn't any of us think of that? Morgan, Garcia and I had all been through it before, but for him it was all brand new.

"You know, when she came back," Reid went on, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache, "for a minute I thought I was hallucinating. I thought I'd finally had the schizophrenic break I'd been having nightmares about my entire life, so I don't know, maybe I should have been relieved to find out it was only three of my best friends lying to me and torturing me by making me think one of them was dead when really she was simply the latest person to walk away."

"Jesus, kid! Are you really that concerned about your mind?" Rossi asked worriedly.

Reid bit his lip. "I've been having a lot of migraines lately. Bad ones. And that… that can be a symptom."

"So to have what you think is a hallucination on top of that - "

"Yeah."

Rossi breathed out heavily. "Wow, this whole thing really did a number on you, didn't it?"

"You don't know the half of it."

"So tell me. I'm listening."

Reid wrapped his fingers around his coffee, staring into the cup as if it held all the world's answers. "Crying on J.J's shoulder… That was the first time I'd ever really reached out to anyone. I mean, the team has offered help from time to time and I've accepted it, but that was the first time I'd ever really opened myself up like that on my own. So then what happens? I get my trust thrown back in my face just when I need my friends the most. And not just by the whole lie, but by J.J. pretty much coming out and telling me it was my fault I fell for it, because I didn't catch her and Hotch's 'micro-expressions'. And now I find out there were apparently a lot of clues I missed, all because I was too dumb to look for deception in my so-called friends' expressions of comfort."

"Reid…"

The younger man held his hand up. "Don't start, Rossi. I know. I know - she had to. She probably felt terrible doing it. Logically, I know it. And I know she probably cares for me; you don't make someone your child's godfather out of pity, after all. Especially when you and your partner are both in dangerous lines of work and needing a guardian for your son is a real possibility. But do you have any idea of how hard it was for me to trust her in the first place?"

"Why? Why was it so difficult?" Rossi asked, encouraging Reid to go on.

"You know what really bothered me about the Owen Savage case?" Reid asked, suddenly looking up at Rossi. "It wasn't just the bullying. It was the fact that no one around him - not his father, not his teachers, not anyone older - tried to help. If they weren't one of the ones making it worse, then they were just standing on the sidelines, watching him suffer. I know I made a lot of stupid mistakes on that case, but I knew, Rossi. I knew exactly what that felt like. Literally and figuratively. My father, a mere nine miles away, collecting newspaper articles on me for his scrapbook. You know what really would have helped? A few bucks for the electricity bill so the power getting shut off and the house going dark didn't push my mother into an episode. My aunt Ethel, who could monitor the length of my hair, but not bother to check and see if I was getting anything to eat besides things I could make in the toaster. Harper Hillman and Alexa Lisbon and all the hulking troglodytes on the football team, gawking and laughing after tying me naked to a goal post and then leaving me there for the night - "

"What?" Rossi interrupted with a sputter.

"It's not important, Rossi."

"Reid - "

"It's not important, Rossi," Reid emphasized again, nearly hissing. "It was just one more instance of people standing around and watching me suffer. Sometimes even the team did it, though in their case they couldn't always help it. But it happened. They stared at me as I was tortured onscreen during the Hankel case. I know they were doing their best to find me, but a small part of me couldn't help but feel violated by the exposure, of knowing they were watching me go through that.

"And then they watched as I became an addict.

"I don't blame you. You weren't with us when it happened. You weren't even with us yet when I got clean.* I don't even blame them really. As much as losing my job would've been difficult, I never, ever could have stayed clean if I'd known I'd cost one or more of them their careers as well. But it still didn't change the fact I had to do it alone. There was no intervention; I had to decided to stop all on my own. I went through withdrawals by myself. I cleaned up afterwards by myself. I found a NA meeting by myself and forced myself to go. Perhaps it was even for the best; going to NA is a decision you're supposed to make for yourself. But all of this meant I couldn't talk about it to anyone. I knew it was for my benefit - that's how I got to keep my job, because officially none of it ever happened - but it still meant that once again I was hurting and everyone was content to just stand around and watch.

"So why would I ever reach out, huh Rossi? Maybe a lot of it is my fault for not asking, but growing up with no one but my mother, it became ingrained in me not to. Asking for help then would have brought dangerous questions and likely got me thrown into the foster system and Mom into some institution they do stories about on 60 Minutes. I literally couldn't go to anyone for help. I couldn't even let anyone get too close in case they put the pieces together. I had to hold on until I was eighteen so that I could get my mother into a place that I chose, and not the State.

"But even if I could manage to get past that particular learned response, why would I ask for help? What event in my life would even give me the expectation people would help? Some of them had to have been aware of how much trouble I was in, but no one ever did anything. At best I was ignored, just like always. At worst, I was laughed at and tormented, and even assaulted. Hell, I was a too-small eleven year old surrounded by fully grown eighteen year old football players and fully grown teachers and neighbours and bank tellers who let me cash my mother's pension check, all just waiting to take advantage. Asking for help would only have revealed my weakness and let them prey on me further.

"I know this all sounds terribly self-pitying, but quite frankly, after all that I went through, not to mention all of those years where the only person I had any meaningful human contact with was mentally ill, it's a wonder I can relate to people at all, let alone let anyone in.

"So now this. The team spends years reassuring me, picking away at me, saying over and over again, 'You can tell us anything. Come on, Reid, let us help you,' and so, when I finally do, it turns out J.J. is just another mean girl, pretending to be my friend, all so she can leave me metaphorically naked on the field again and then laugh."

"I'm sorry all of those things happened to you, Spencer," Rossi said.

"But…?"

"No. No buts."

Reid's brow furrowed with suspicion. "You're not going to tell me it's not really her fault? That she and Hotch and Emily had to do it?"

"Why would I tell you what you already know? And I know that you do know it, not just because you've said as much, but because you're too smart and too perceptive not to. So what would be the point of making you feel worse? Of putting you on the defensive just because you're human and your heart hasn't got over the wound as quick as your head?"

Reid tapped his nails against the ceramic coffee mug in his hands, gazing at the traffic which was picking up outside. "I'm trying, you know?"

"I know."

"I keep reminding myself why she and Hotch did what they did. I ask myself how I could even expect them to do anything less to protect Emily. It's just that they triggered all of these memories for me. Now, every time I look at them, I flinch. I feel sick. When I have nightmares about what Alexa and Harper and the football team did to me, I see J.J. and Emily and Hotch. And even if I forgive them, I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust them again because I'll always carry this memory. I'm afraid I won't even be able to trust them in the field. My head asks why wouldn't I, but viscerally, deep down in my gut, I'm waiting for them to betray me and that's making me second guess everything, including myself. I know all of this doubt is partly coming out of the irrationality of anger, but…"

"But they did actually damage your trust in them," Rossi said. "That's not unreasonable. But maybe it can be built back up again. All of you will have to work at it, but don't beat yourself up if it doesn't happen overnight, Spencer - this is going to take a long time to fix. You do that and I'll make sure the others don't beat you up for the same thing."

"How do I know it's worth the risk?" Reid asked.

"Kid, I've been married three times - I know what it's like to have your heart go through the shredder because you feel betrayed by those closest to you, but I also learned that if you keep trying to reach out even after you keep getting slapped down, sometimes it pays off."

"I suppose so. But what I really meant is what if I have to quit the team? If my Mom turns out to be sick, I can't keep making the commute from Washington to here. I'll have to move back."

"Give it a try anyway. I know we all missed this crisis, and you certainly have good reason for your feelings not being altogether friendly towards us at the moment, but don't turn away potential help or comfort, Spencer," Rossi said gently. "Besides, if you leave it as is, you'll come to regret it, even if it's just for the unfinished mess left behind. And, like I said the other night, you don't need regrets on top of everything else."

"You know, you didn't miss this crisis. You've done a lot for me over the last two days."

"The others would have too, if you'd let them. But I understand why it was hard. Hell, kid, worrying about your mom, about your own health, migraines, nightmares, feeling betrayed… no wonder you've been overwhelmed."

"Still, I want to say… you know, thank you. And I intend to pay for my half of the hotel room - "

"Hell, Reid, save your money," Rossi interrupted, waving him off. "It's not like I can't afford it."

"What does that matter?"

"Honestly, Reid… Spencer… don't bother. Let me do this for you."

"Rossi, I don't feel right -"

"Reid, you might need it soon." If your mother is sick, was the thought he left unsaid.

The poor kid looked on the verge of tears. "All right. If you insist. Thank you," he mumbled hoarsely.

"I do and you're welcome. Now come on," Rossi said, rising out of the booth. "You can't let your mother see you looking wrung out as an old dishtowel. Let's go back to the hotel and freshen up a bit before you go over to the hospital."

Rossi paid the bill and the two men left. That night, after Reid had seen his mother's transfer safely back to Bennington and spent some time with her, they caught their plane back to D.C. As the emotionally worn out Reid slept propped against the cabin's window, it was only then that Rossi realized to his horror that he had forgotten to call Garcia!

-x-

Three weeks later…

The team, minus Reid, were on their way back from a case in San Diego when Rossi's phone buzzed. Checking his messages, he smiled.

"What is it, Dave?" Hotch asked.

"J.J, get Penelope onscreen. Morgan, get the bottle I've got stashed in the compartment over there," Rossi said. J.J. and Morgan looked mildly puzzled, but did what they were asked.

"What do you need, crime-fighters? I thought the case was over," Garcia said as her face popped up on the computer.

"Have you got something to drink there, Kitten?" Rossi asked.

"Now, what's a goddess without libations?" Garcia shot back and quickly found one of the wine coolers she had hidden in her lair for secret celebrations.

Once everyone had a glass, Rossi announced, "I just had a text from our favourite genius. It seems his mother is perfectly fine and well!"

Garcia squealed with happiness and the rest of the team cheered.

"I'm so happy for him!" J.J. said, her voice breaking and tears sparkling in her eyes.

"Me too. I don't know what he would have done without his Mom," Garcia said.

"I don't know what we would have done without him," Morgan added.

"Here, here!" Emily said.

"I, for one, am as relieved as hell!" Rossi exclaimed fervently, causing the others to laugh in agreement.

"But this isn't right," Emily suddenly said after the team had started chattering merrily and drinking away. "He should be here for the celebration!"

"I think the best way the kid could celebrate would be to sleep for the next month," Rossi replied. The team had started, slowly and with some trepidation, re-building its relationships for the last little bit, but Reid's worry for his mother had still taken a large toll on the young man.

"That sounds like a plan," Hotch said, putting down his glass to take out his phone. "I'll let him know he can have the week off."

"He should stay with his Mom, but tell him if he wants to come home now, I'll pick him up at the airport," Garcia offered and Hotch nodded.

"And tell him if he stays, room service at his hotel will be on my tab," Rossi said. "And tell him I won't take no for an answer!"

When Hotch relayed Reid's thanks a few minutes later, Rossi merely raised his glass in acknowledgement, looking around at the family he'd unexpectedly been given so late in life and thinking of how close it had come to being broken.

Think nothing of it, Spencer, he thought to himself. The price is nothing to what your heart has allowed me to keep.

.

* I'm basing this off of something Reid said in "Elephant's Memory". He said he'd been clean for about ten months, so if we take the events as happening the same time the episode aired (April '08), that would mean he got clean roughly around June of '07, when Gideon was still around. Since "Revelations" happened in February of 2007, I also figure that means Reid was on drugs for about four months.

As for him going through it alone, part of that was based on the fact that it was never talked about, and part because I always thought the team looked a little surprised and worried whenever a clue would come up, such as Emily's look when Reid knew about amends letters in "A Higher Power". (His first meeting was in the next episode, so likely he was merely reading up on their literature at that point.)

Author's note:

Well, there you go - a lot of angst, not much plot, but a happy ending! And let me say one last thank you to all of my readers! It's been a pleasure writing this for you!

Also, I don't know if anybody spotted the time zone mistake in the last chapter, but if you did, hey, full points to you for not saying it!