The Keeping of Words | Spencer Reid

25| Head and Heart

"Getting a second life is one thing. Making it a better life, that's the trick." –Rick Riordan

After the fall came the return, and while an abundance authors wrote of a fall from grace, he had come to believe that while there was no way to fall gracefully, there were a great many ways to return gracefully. None of them were easy, of course, nothing worthwhile ever was. Thrice had he practiced the art of a homecoming.

The first had been after Tobias, and he isolated himself with his needles and his bottles to forget all of the pain forced upon him. There had been so much shame and so much anger, and he had no idea how to talk about those things with any of his colleagues. The second was after Maeve's death. He still didn't know how to talk about things that hurt or to work through grief, and so he had locked himself in his apartment for two weeks before finally learning it was impossible recover alone. The third was the one he was still working through, and this one was just as difficult. Everyone on the team knew exactly why he had taken a leave of absence, and though he understood they were just glad to have him back, he still felt guilty for what he had put them through.

The first day always was the worst, when everyone was tiptoeing around him and wondering what to say or what to ask him. Hotch could always be counted on to focus on the work, coming straight in and making sure that his team was taking care of business. The unit chief would ask him once – and only once, unless Reid gave him cause for concern – how he was, before leaving the matter alone. He appreciated that. Rossi would say very little, but occasionally glance his way with something like pity in his eyes. Morgan and Alex would welcome him back with open arms, and JJ would play the mother hen, doting on him until she could be certain he was alright. And then there was Garcia, who went out of her way to cheer him up in any manner she could find.

This time the usual sympathies and uncertainties applied, but there was something lighter in the air. Morgan's pat on the back was accompanied with a smug look, JJ asked him about his week, and when Rossi slid a sly smile his way, Reid realized what it was. This was about his relapse, but it was also about her. They knew Bianca had stayed with him that week, and he wasn't sure exactly what conclusions they leapt to as a result. Regardless, he tried to shake it off as always, hoping he didn't appear any more awkward than usual. He wasn't planning on revealing that she not only slept at his apartment, but in his bed.

With him.

Eight nights in a row.

No, that was a secret he would much rather keep to himself. It was something for just the two of them to share, those drowsy minutes just before falling asleep and just after waking up, when he thought it had to be a dream to have her so close to him for so long.

Around lunchtime, Garcia strolled over to his desk, a paper sack in her hand. "Welcome back, Junior Einstein. We missed you."

"It's good to be back," he replied. "I missed you guys, too."

The blonde woman raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really? You sure about that?" Reid frowned, glancing around to see if there was something he wasn't getting. Did she really think he could be away for two weeks and not want to see them?

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I? You're my family."

"Aw!" She swatted his shoulder. "Thanks, Reid. But I was starting to think maybe you were a little too comfortable at home. What with your lady friend staying there and all."

He felt his ears burn red and he was glad it was Garcia in front of him, who wouldn't be able to profile his overcorrection as he clenched his fist and tightened his jaw in an effort to seem calm. "It wasn't like that!" he said, his voice cracking and giving him away. "She just stayed to help me through withdrawal. We watched old movies, and she slept on my sofa." And technically she had, for six of those nights anyways.