A/N: I'm back… :)

Spencer stared at his sister, and she looked up at him, eyes red, swollen, and looking hollow. Before she could speak, Hotch pulled him into the kitchen. "Have you considered your options, Reid?"

"What do you mean?"

"You agreed to take custody of MJ to prove that you were a better parent than your father but he may be better equipped to handle a teenager then you are right now," Hotch whispered firmly. "Are you capable of getting her the help she needs?"

"What do you mean?" Spencer asked, although he did not need to be told. He knew what Hotch was about to say.

"MJ is a suicidal young girl who fears she may become homicidal. She's sick, Reid. Do you want to be the one that has to sign the paperwork?"

Before he could reply, they heard a door slam.

Merci had heard every single word, and couldn't beat hearing them. Hotch was telling her brother to send her away, not that there was hope. She got off the couch and left, slamming the door behind her. Her feet took her to the nearest chapel.

She couldn't go in. It didn't feel right. She had always been Catholic, but in that brief moment, it felt wrong. She kept walking, eyes on the pavement and hands in her pockets. Hotch had betrayed her trust. There was no one else for her to talk to. She had no friends and no faith. She couldn't even step inside a place she used go to every day.

Something inside of her had changed. Whatever made her believe was gone. The Spirit—or whatever it was—was gone. It was so gone; it was like it had never been there. She hadn't felt this alone since, well, ever.

"Excuse me," she apologized as she stepped between two well dressed young men walking the opposite direction. About five steps later, she tripped, falling painfully to her knees and scrapping the heels of her hands. The young men stopped walking and turned.

"You okay?" one of them asked.

Merci looked up, and automatically stumbled back. They were Mormons. She'd know that wrenched name tag anywhere.

Elder Jameson

Church of

Jesus Christ

of Latter-day Saints

"I'm fine," she said hotly, pushing herself off the pavement with a wince. "Thank you."

"Merci!" Spencer ran up to them. "Do you know how difficult it is to find a teenager with green hair in this town?"

"I wouldn't know, Spence," she replied sourly, rubbing her palm. "Let's go home. I need an ice pack."