The Intelligence Control and Analysis Program

Chapter 1

It took everything Hotch had in him not to physically cover Genius' mouth, but instead, Hotch concealed the disturbance with a clearing of his throat and continued. "Patient No. 381614. If you could connect me, I would appreciate it."

"Mmm, Diana Reid, you said?"

"Yes." Hotch nodded, giving Genius a sharp glare that said to put at least a foot of space between them. "I know the risks associated with genius communication. This call will be monitored."

"Hold on just a second..." the receptionist mumbled. "Hold on... and... okay, you're good to go. Wait a few seconds for the line to switch over."

Hotch handed the phone to Genius with a warning look. "Don't go far, and don't whisper. Understand?"

"Yes." Genius nodded eagerly, barely able to stop himself from snatching the phone right out of Hotch's hands. "I understand." His fingers twitched just a few inches from the device he so desperately wanted. "Mhm. Yup. I understand."

Hotch extended the phone, and Genius latched onto it immediately, darting over to the nearest corner. Genius curled into a ball on the floor and pressed the phone tightly to his ear, still shaking with excitement.

Hotch watched Genius carefully, stalling for a few moments before sitting down with the rest of the team. "Call the Technical Analysis Department, and see if they can find anything on this mystery woman." He opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped when he heard what sounded like a stifled sob.

Hotch turned his head just enough that his ear was inclined toward Genius, and right about the time Genius' voice cracked, Hotch felt a knife in his gut.

"Hi, Mom."

Everyone around the table shared a pained look.

"No, wait! Mom, I'm real! You don't need to adjust your antipsychotics, I promise, I'm real." Genius sounded panicked, but he soon let out a sigh of relief. "Yes, yes, it's me. It's really me. I'm here. I'm real. It's me."

Hotch met Rossi's eyes, and he could tell Rossi was thinking about their earlier conversation. He really did want the phone call for entirely innocent reasons.

"Yeah, I can prove it. I, uh, I figured you would ask." Genius sniffed and shifted around, bumping something against the wall. "Do you, uh, do you remember... this one fight you had with Dad. You were arguing about," he sniffed again, "about me being a genius, and how... how you had to work so hard to hide it. It was right before I graduated high school, and he said... he said my intelligence was only going to get more difficult to deal with as I got older, and you said, "Spencer's p—"

Hotch turned his attention to the files when he heard Genius break off into a harsh sob, trying to offer some semblance of privacy. Still, it was hard to focus on the task at hand when there was a near meltdown going on in the corner, and harder still not to eavesdrop in a room with no background noise.

"Y-you said... 'Spencer's perfect.'" Genius let another sob out, and if the rustling of his clothes was any indication, he was scratching himself obsessively. "I never forgot that. I think about it a lot."

Hotch gestured for everyone to write notes. He scrawled a few things in the margin of Sheila's picture before handing it to Emily.

"Is... is Love Conquers All still your favorite? I, uh, I have it. It's one—one of the two things I own. I keep it in my pillow, and I read it every night." Genius sighed in relief almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth. "Yes, yes, it's me, Mom, it's really me. I remember those things; you know I couldn't read them in a file. Mom, I—I'm sorry I didn't call sooner."