Psychopathy

Chapter 22- Chalk On The Floor

It was the day that the livestream was to start, and Reid was stewing in his own conflicted emotions. When he had first woken up that morning, for a few seconds, he had hoped that the livestream wouldn't start. He and the rest of the team were still reeling from Prentiss's death, and he wasn't sure he was emotionally capable of seeing whatever horrors the livestream would bring. It was too soon, he knew that. He just needed more time to come to terms with Prentiss's death, then he could deal with the livestream.

But the reality came crashing down on him. He didn't have time. Either the livestream would start today, or it wouldn't. And if it didn't, that meant that Ciara was dead. And after losing Prentiss and not catching the man responsible, he couldn't deal with having the same thing happen to Ciara. He couldn't lose Ciara without having any clue as to where her body was and who had done such awful things to her.

So he had known. He needed the livestream to start. But that didn't mean he still wasn't anxious about the horrifying things it would show him. It didn't mean he was emotionally ready for whatever this next week was about to throw at him.

When he finally reached his desk, he set his satchel down, purposefully looking away from Prentiss's empty desk. Akilah's desk was empty, so Reid assumed she was fashionably late, per the norm. Either that, or she was in Morgan's office doing who-knew-what. He could always tell when she was in there with him, as that was the only time Morgan ever kept his blinds completely closed. Reid only hoped that they weren't getting too frisky during those times.

Seeing as there was no one around to tell him they had a case or drop more paperwork on him, he made his way to Garcia's office. The livestreams always started at noon their time, give or take about five minutes, and it was just past ten. He had time to go talk to Garcia. If he couldn't be prepared for what the week was about to bring them, he could at least distract himself by trying to prepare Garcia.

But as Reid approached Garcia's office, he heard someone crying on the other side of the door. It didn't take a genius to figure out who. Well, it seemed that preparing Garcia was going to be a lot harder than he had assumed. Slowly, he knocked on the door, and he heard some shuffling and a sniffle. After a few moments, Garcia wearily told him to come in, and he did so with slight trepidation. Upon his entrance, Garcia turned and smiled at him, a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Eyes that were still red and wet from crying.

"Hey, are you okay?" Reid asked, and Garcia sighed, her shoulders slumping.

"No, I'm not."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Reid wondered, and Garcia looked at her screens for a moment, before slowly nodding. She reached into a stack of files and pulled out the tablet that Reid knew would soon hold the livestream.

"You know what's going to happen today."

"I do."

"And part of me knows it needs to happen, because if it doesn't... well, that's just unthinkable."

"I know. I know all too well," Reid agreed.

"But another part of me doesn't want it to happen. Not because I'm hoping she's dead. Far from that. I'm just... not ready. Not after Prentiss," Garcia admitted, fresh tears falling down her cheeks. "And it's just that... well, every time the livestream comes on, I'm always the one to greet her. I'm always the first one to see how much worse she is. And I'm always the one who first learns about what's been happening in the past three months. And I just... I don't know if I can do that anymore."

"I understand completely," Reid told her, crossing the room. He sunk to his knees in front of her, putting his hands on the tablet. "And we'd all understand if you're ready to give that job up."