CHAPTER 1: Alchemy (Season 8, episode 20)

Character(s): Reid, Rossi (and Maeve)

A/N: Some end scene spoilers in this one, as well as spoilers involving mentions of deaths from past seasons. The bits of quoted dialogue in the part regarding Reid's conversation with Maeve are courtesy of Sharon Lee Watson, who wrote the episode. Also, if you aren't familiar with the song that played in the end scene of the show, please do check it out. It's called "Sleepwalk", it's by Santo & Johnny, and it is beautiful.

"And all my days are trances, and all my nightly dreams

Are where thy grey eye glances, and where thy footstep gleams

In what ethereal dances, by what eternal streams." - Edgar Allan Poe, To One in Paradise

Were he to tell them about the dream in a world where she was still alive, his friends would've chuckled and shook their heads in that "Oh, Reid…" sort of way.

"So in this fantasy about Maeve, you're sitting in a coffee shop and discussing Doyle with her?" Morgan would've asked incredulously. And Reid would get a bit defensive, and there'd have been more light teasing, and he would blush and shrug it off.

But this was obviously not that world. Talking about his visions of Maeve made everything real, he felt, so for the longest time he didn't say anything. He wanted to avoid the looks of pity and sympathy, the well-meaning but non-comforting platitudes. He already knew he was close to the point of "needing to move on", he didn't need someone to remind him of that fact out loud.

In some ways, Reid took comfort in the fact that he was able to remember every last detail of his dream. He could recite his conversation with Maeve verbatim. His favorite moment was when she would laugh and ask in a gently exasperated tone, "Are you going to argue with everything I say?", because he loved the smile that lit up her face as she peered at him. He couldn't help but start imagining the two of them sitting together on his couch on a Sunday afternoon, happily discussing and debating everything under the sun.

But this meant he also could remember when the music would start up, and she'd ask him to dance, explaining that, "I want to hold you once before I'm a ghost of a memory." He always chose to pretend he didn't hear the last part of that sentence.

As Reid had told Rossi during their talk at the police station in Rapid City, that was the part where he always forced himself to wake up. I don't know how to dance, he'd explained to his elder teammate. What he forgot – neglected - to mention was the fear that, if he went to dance with Maeve, if he tried to hold her, she'd evaporate, or crumble to dust, or something.

Reid didn't plan on Rossi being the one he'd finally open up to. Sure, he'd lost someone, too – his first wife, Carolyn – but she'd died of illness. Hotch, on the other hand, had lost Haley in a manner similar to that of Maeve. Morgan grieved when he thought he'd lost Emily, who, like Haley, had also "died" in a violent way.

Of course, Emily was not actually dead, though. She came back. So that ruled talking to Morgan out. And Hotch was Reid's boss, so while he'd be sympathetic and listen, he'd also try and insist the younger agent follow grief protocol. Counseling.

Rossi was a bit different. He was the kind of guy who wasn't always tactful with his comments or advice, but Reid had always preferred honesty over sugarcoating anyway. Plus, he'd been instrumental in helping Reid the last time he was having recurring dreams (nightmares, actually, which ironically had also involved a death – in that case, it was that of a young boy). This time was no exception. Rossi had been firm, had made no bones about the fact that he was worried about his young friend's behavior. But he'd also empathized, listened, and most importantly, had let Reid know his feelings were okay.

He had been right, too, Reid realized, as he leaned back against the seat on the plane, closing his eyes. Talking it out did help. Now let's see how attempting to sleep goes.

Sleep proved a bit fitful at first for Reid. All he could initially think of were images of Uncle Sal, or at least, what he imagined Sal to look like – a portly, middle-aged man, with the looks of a used car salesman. He pictured Sal working on his beloved car. Despairing over its destruction. All alone, in bed, falling ill.

Soon, though, Sal faded away, and the scene changed, back to the coffee shop, back to the music, back to her.

But this time, as Maeve held out her hand, Reid found himself reaching towards her. Found himself standing up, allowing her to pull him close. The song echoed softly in the background, quietly urging him on. Dance while you can, the music will not last much longer.

Reid couldn't help but smile a bit, enjoying the feel of Maeve's arms around him. He shivered slightly as her hands lightly brushed against his neck, played with his hair. He, in return, wrapped her in a strong embrace, letting his fingers tenderly caress her back. Her touches were meant to comfort and reassure, his were to try and express how much he loved her, needed her.

Reid had no idea how long the two of them stayed like that.

The jet prepared for its descent back into D.C., causing Rossi to wake abruptly. He blinked and rubbed his eyes a couple times before taking a quick scan of the cabin. Most of the team were beginning to wake or gather their things, and there were random murmurs of "Thank god we're home."

Rossi chuckled to himself, running a hand over his face. His eyes then settled on the young man sitting across from him.

Reid's head was leaning against both the wall of the jet and the back of his seat. To the other man's surprise, he appeared to still be sound asleep. Rossi noticed a lone streak down one of Reid's cheeks from where a tear had evidently fallen at some point, but felt a sense of relief upon realizing Reid's mouth was curled up in a slight smile. For the first time in what seemed like ages, he actually looked a bit…peaceful. The whole scene almost made Rossi want to glance out the window and see if he could spot Maeve's spirit floating nearby somewhere.

Hotch came into view at that moment as he leaned over, reaching out to wake Reid. Rossi put his own hand out to stop the other man.

"Let him sleep a while longer, Hotch," he whispered. "I'll make sure he wakes up when we land."

Hotch's glance flickered between the two men for a moment before he simply nodded and turned away. Taking one more look at Reid, Rossi turned his gaze to the window as he sat back, waiting for the jet to touch ground.

"Any little thing can give hope, like a candle in the dark." -Christiaan Mostert

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