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“Hotch, can I talk to you for a minute?” Reid said as he stood in the open doorway of Aaron Hotchner’s office.
Hotch didn’t look up from his desk as he replied, too busy gathering files to place in his bag. “If you’re quick. We’re wheels up in 20.” When Reid neither moved nor spoke, Hotch stopped what he was doing and glanced up. He could tell immediately that this was not a ‘talk while you pack’ kind of conversation. Reid looked nervous. He was dressed like he was ready to go, wearing his jacket and messenger bag, but nothing in his body language said that he was prepared to board a flight and focus on a case. Reid fidgeted with the strap of his bag, looking down at it rather than at his boss.
Hotch adjusted his own body language, trying to make himself seem more approachable, sensing this might be a more serious conversation. When the young man still didn’t say anything, Hotch thought maybe he needed some encouragement. “Come in,” Hotch tried. Reid moved into the room enough to close the door behind him, but didn’t move any closer. Aaron remained standing behind his desk, waiting to take his cues from the young man.
“I need a sick day,” Reid blurted out. He was still looking down at the strap of his bag. Hotch could see that the young man was deeply uncomfortable, but he wasn’t sure why. He certainly didn’t look ill.
“Reid, you’ve never asked for a sick day as long as I’ve known you, and you seemed fine a minute ago at the round table.” Hotch realized as he said it that this wasn’t quite true. Going back over it in his mind, he noted that Reid had been quieter than normal during the briefing. “What’s really going on, Reid? We have a case and we need you.” Hotch was trying to sound encouraging, but he was getting impatient. His team should know by now that they needed to check their personal issues at the door when they had a case.
Reid chanced a look at Hotch, eyes seeming to plead for the older man to understand what was going on without him having to say it. Hotch just looked at him expectantly.
Reid sighed. “Hotch, summarize this case for me.”
Hotch looked confused. “We have an unsub in Georgia who is killing his victims via overdose.” Oh.
Reid nodded. “And do you know what today is?”
“It’s February 7th.” Oooh. “It’s been one year,” Hotch said, acknowledging that he understood now, while avoiding saying anything specific that might be triggering.
Reid nodded again. Hotch could see that Reid was trying to keep his expression calm, but there was some frustration reaching the surface as well. Hotch thought that was probably warranted, given the situation. Hotch was supposed to be an expert profiler, and yet hadn’t been able to connect these very simple dots without it being spelled out for him.
Reid sighed. “Hotch, do you really need me to explain to you exactly why this specific case, on this specific day, might be a problem for me, or will you please just accept my request for a sick day?” The frustration was definitely seeping through in Reid’s voice with that.
Hotch was just as disappointed with himself as Reid was with him. “Of course you can have a sick day. I’m sorry I didn’t make the connection sooner.”
Reid nodded and turned to leave. Hand on the doorknob, he was stopped in his tracks by what Hotch said next. “I’m proud of you, you know.”
Reid took his hand off the doorknob, but didn’t turn back around. “For what?” he said, as if he couldn’t possibly fathom how anything he had ever done in his life was worthy of pride.
Hotch moved out from behind his desk and placed a hand on Reid’s shoulder, causing the young man to turn back around and face him. “For recognizing your limitations and asking for help, instead of ignoring it and trying to push through.”
Reid looked at the older man. “I just don’t think I can be objective on this case. After the last one with that kid, Owen Savage, you told me that I’d put lives in jeopardy with my actions, and that you’d fire me if I pulled something like that again. And I’m worried that if I go out there right now, I will. I care about all of you too much to put your lives at risk because I’m having personal issues.”
Hotch found himself somewhat shocked at the man’s admission. For as much as this team was a family, they were admittedly a dysfunctional one at best. Every person on this team had some kind of trauma that they buried deep and refused to acknowledge. Every one of them had been on a case that hit a little too close to home, a case that they'd probably had no business working. This was the first time that one of them had recognized it ahead of time and asked to be excused from it.
Hotch wondered if his ‘leave your personal business at the door’ stance was a mistake. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered that. This past year, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice Reid struggling. But he’d told himself that Reid was private, that he wanted to deal with his issues on his own. That’s how Hotch operated, keeping his personal issues to himself, so it made sense to him that Reid would be the same way. But now he was reconsidering his assessment. Maybe that’s not how Reid operated at all. Maybe Reid had just been following Hotch’s example, following what the team had established as their norm. Reid had been too young, too new, and too eager to please to challenge it. Maybe when Reid had been struggling, he’d been hoping that someone would reach out a hand to him instead of them all pretending that they didn’t see it until it went away.
“I’m sorry,” Hotch said. As soon as the words left his mouth, Hotch realized that without the context of his inner monologue, the apology probably seemed out of nowhere.
“For what?” Reid asked, looking as confused as Hotch suspected he would be.
Hotch wanted to say ‘For everything,’ but that would just be doubling down on the vagueness. There was a lot he was sorry for and he didn’t have the time or ability to list it all. And some things, at least within the confines of their workplace, needed to remain unspoken. But then again, wasn’t that part of the problem in the first place?
Hotch settled on an adequately not-too-specific explanation for his apology. “For how I’ve handled the past year. You deserved better.”
Reid’s eyes showed that he understood, and then he shook his head, following the now ingrained instinct to brush it all under the rug and let Hotch off the hook. “Hotch, it’s fine. I’m fine, really. It’s just, we all know the power of anniversaries, and I’m not keen to find out what kinds of memories 'Georgia in February' stirs up. I can work the case from here, if you want.”
Hotch shook his head. “No, you take the day off. Go do something that will take your mind off of things. We can handle it.”
Reid gave a small smile in thanks, though Hotch could tell that Reid was doubting whether there was anything on this planet engaging enough to take his mind off of the thing that plagued it today.
“What would you like me to tell the team?” Hotch asked. Reid’s sudden disappearance was likely to spark questions, especially given that, as Hotch had mentioned, Reid had seemed perfectly healthy at the round table this morning.
Reid shrugged. “Tell them the truth. If you don’t, they’ll just see right through it and bug me about it anyway. They’re actually less likely to mention anything to me if you tell them. I don’t know if you realize this, Hotch, but this team has a tendency to pry when they think information is being withheld, but when they do know what’s going on, they tend to avoid difficult topics of conversation altogether.”
Reid had just hit the nail on the head and summed up the team’s entire dynamic in one sentence. It was impressive, really. And having it laid out so simply only aided in illuminating just how unhealthy this dynamic actually was.
“Rossi doesn’t know about what happened in Georgia a year ago,” Hotch noted. It was said as a statement, but it really was a question.
Reid shrugged again. “Maybe it’s about time he does. Seems like he might be sticking around for a while.” Hotch didn’t miss the implication that it was on himself to fill Rossi in. That’ll be a fun conversation.
Reid went to leave again, and was once again stopped by his boss’s voice. “Reid.”
Reid turned around. “Yes?” he asked, eyebrows raised, as if with the vast wealth of knowledge the genius held, he couldn’t come up with a single thing his boss could possibly want to say right now to add to this conversation.
Hotch looked the young man straight in the eye. “Just because I tend to keep things close to the chest, doesn’t mean you have to. I might not be much of a talker, but I’m an excellent listener. My office door is always open and my cell phone is always on.”
Reid gave a smile, and Hotch thought it was probably the only genuine one he’d given that day. “Thanks Hotch. I’ll let you get going though, you’ve got a plane to catch.”
This time when Reid reached for the doorknob, Hotch let him leave. Reid walked right down the catwalk and out the office door, paying no mind to the group of profilers that blatantly stared at him as he went.
“Wheels up in 10,” Hotch declared from his office, his way of scattering the profilers before they started whispering theories to each other. He was not looking forward to the upcoming plane ride.