Reid and Reid Ship Oneshots

Reid Has An Excoriation Disorder

(I just want to say, before you get into reading this, that the way I portrayed Spencer's disorder was off of my own. Everyone's experience with skin picking is different, so no, I did not depict Spencer incorrectly, he just has more mild symptoms compared to more severe cases.)
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Spencer Reid walked into his work, he had only been working at the FBI for a few weeks. But he was called into his bosses office before he even got to sit down at his desk. This unnerved him. Was he in trouble? No one else was being called down. Was he going to be fired?
These thoughts only added to Reid's nervousness. He bit his lip anxiously as he walked with Hotch to his office. Blood pooled in his mouth as he continued to bite through the skin of his bottom lip.
When he sat down in a chair at the front of his bosses desk, he forced himself to swallow the blood so he could talk without it spilling out.

"I wanted to talk to you about how you've been socializing with your colleagues." Hotch said calmly as he sat down, not nearly as nervous as Reid was.

"Y-Yes?" He replied, cursing himself for his voice trembling.
He bounced his leg anxiously as he began to pick at the torn skin around his fingernails. It was already peeling and scabbed but he couldn't help but pick at it more.

"You don't talk to anybody. Not even the BAU, your own team." Hotch gave a sympathetic look towards Reid, as he could tell how nervous he seemed. But he didn't notice the movements going on under the table.

"I'm just not used to group work." Reid chuckled quietly.

"I understand that, Reid. But this job is all about teamwork and collaboration. I need you to try and integrate with, at least, the BAU." Hotch compromised.

"Yes!" Reid replied, a little too eager to accept the deal, "I mean, yes. I'll get right on that." He stood from the chair and excused himself from the office.
As he walked away, he shook his hand out at his side, and tried to wipe some of the blood from his fingers on his pants.
Only, Hotch noticed this, and became concerned. Why were Reid's hands bleeding? They weren't like that when he came in.

A few days later, Reid had made no effort to get along with his coworkers. I mean, Hotch really couldn't get mad. He wasn't being negative with them, he just wasn't socializing with anyone.
Hotch just wanted Reid to have some established relationship with the BAU before his first case.
But maybe he knew why Reid was so reluctant to talk to anyone.

Hotch was a profiler, he knew how to read people, and all he read off of Reid was that he was nervous, anxious, and insecure. He picked at his skin relentlessly. His fingers were torn apart, his nails were bitten down to the quicks, and his lips were chewed on and chapped. Reid only ever wore long sleeves and pants, but Hotch could assume he had scarring from skin-picking there too.

He wanted to help his new subordinate, but he also didn't want to embarrass him. Instead of addressing it in front of everyone, he decided to gift him something that he thought would help. Through his vast research he found a type of treatment that seemed to be pretty effective.

"Reid, come here!" Hotch called him into his office, just how he did a week ago.

The young man entered and looked just as disheveled as he did before. Fingers bleeding, lips scabbed, but something new today. He had a sore on his face. Like he pinched the edge of his cheek incredible hard, resulting in a mark.

"Sit down please." He asked sweetly, trying to be as unintimidating as possible.

It made Reid nervous, how soft Hotch's voice was. Usually he was monotone or authoritative, but he was talking to him so quietly. But Reid sat down anyway, and picked at the edge of his thumb with the nail of his index finger under the table, like he had done before.

"I don't want to embarrass you, but I've notice your nervousness about working here, and it has resulted in some harmful actions to yourself. Is this true?" Hotch asked, a stern face but a soft voice.

Reid nodded slowly, he had forgotten how observant profilers were. He'd have to get used to that.
Some things probably wouldn't even be worth trying to hide in the future.

"You know, I might not be a genius like you, but I can do research." Hotch lightly chuckled as he pulled a small opaque bag from a drawer in his desk.

Reid gave an awkward laugh in response to what Hotch said. Was he going to fire him? Is that what he meant by that?
And the package. What was in it? How did it pertain to what they were talking about?
Reid began to bite at his lip.

"I think I found something that will help you with your skin-picking issue." Hotch smiled as he moved the bag closer to Reid so he could open it.

He held a skeptical face to his boss, but still appreciated the thought. Most people didn't bother to try and help him with his excoriation, and just avoided him and/or the subject. That's mostly why he had been putting off getting aquatinted with his coworkers. He was scared they'd be grossed out by his wounds and scabs.

Reid opened the small bag slowly, and was confused by what he pulled out. It was two somewhat-gloves. They didn't cover the whole hand, just the thumb, index, and middle fingers. It had a band that went around the wrist to keep the sleeves on the fingers. Despite the fact that it was a three finger glove, it was weird that it was made of thin yarn. The yarn took away any definition or edge to Reid's fingernails.

"What are these for?" Reid asked, still not understanding what Hotch was trying to do.

"I read that these help with excoriation. You can't pick at anything if your fingers are covered." Hotch smiled, standing from his chair to help Reid put the gloves on.

They fit perfectly, and they made it impossible to knick at the cuticle of his nails or pinch his skin.

Reid's eyes began to burn, but no tears had welded yet.
"Why would you do this for me? I didn't ask you to get these." He blinked back any threatening tears.

"I just want to make you comfortable while working here." Hotch explained, "I want you to get to know the BAU; Morgan, Elle, Garcia, Gideon."

"Are those their names?" Reid chuckled softly, managing to conceal a sniffle.

"Yes, and I really want you to get to know them past their names." Hotch gave a pleading look to the other.

"I will. Thank you for these." Reid said simply, quickly exiting the office to avoid his boss seeing his tears.

This was more than a work place, wasn't it? It was more like a community. No, a family.