The Hills [ S.R. ]

chapter 10

"Geez what's his problem?" Prentiss asks, looking at you.

"I don't know, we haven't talked in a while. It doesn't take a profiler to be able to tell he's been avoiding me" you sigh loudly as you scribble the last couple sentences of your report and walk over towards Morgan's desk. You lean on the edge of it and talk to the both of them.

"That's true, he's also seemed really distracted" Morgan adds.

"Yeah, I suppose. It's kind of been bumming me out you know? He doesn't carpool with me anymore, we don't check our mail together like we used to. I even texted him the first day of the case and he hasn't responded. It just really sucks being treated like that and I don't even think I did anything wrong." You finish with pleading eyes, examining your coworkers' faces as you speak. You look at the ground and sigh in defeat. "I'm just gonna give this to Hotch." You make your way up the ramp and knock on his door. You hear a muffled 'come in' and turn the knob. "Just wanted to drop off my report before I leave," you say walking over and handing it to him.

"Alright, great job on this case 88, you've proven to be a valuable asset to this team thus far," he praises with a small smile. 

You smile back at the nickname that Morgan gave you during this case because your last name was 'too long.' Well, that and the fact that you showed him a video of you opening a white elephant envelope from last year's Bureau Christmas party that had $88 in it. You said it was because 8 was your lucky number. It slowly caught on and you've grown to really like it.

"Thank you so much, sir. I hope I can continue to do well." He nods at you as a means of dismissal and you leave his office. 

In the bullpen you can see Prentiss and Morgan still jotting down their perspectives of the events that went down that night. You gather your things and wave goodbye before turning off your desk lamp. The whole 'journey' to your car, all you can think about is the last time you and Reid went home together. You blush as you remember how his body was so close to yours when you both fell and the odd sexual tension on the car ride home. You wonder if that's the reason he won't talk to you anymore.

If that's why, I swear to god I'm gonna beat his ass.

The drive to your apartment is quiet again for what felt like the millionth night in a row. Without Reid, there's no one to feed you random facts about the dangers of driving or about the seasons and holidays coming up. Just the windows rolled down so the fresh air can help to keep you awake. You make your way up the stairs moping to yourself, you almost don't notice the weird smell coming from your neighbor, Jamie's, apartment. You stop to knock; after a few seconds of shuffling that you hear from the other side of the door, she opens it. She has oven mitts and an apron on, slightly coughing.

"Are you okay?" you ask frantically waving your arms around because of the smoke that's leaving her apartment.

"Oh, yeah. Absolutely. I just burned my casserole," she says sheepishly.

"Oh, okay, I'm glad you're okay," you share a laugh with her before getting to your door.

You fumble around with your keys because your mind is everywhere but in the present. You drop them and quickly bend over to pick them up, still not picking out the right one. Eventually you stop, bang your door in frustration and take a deep breath. You start tearing up, your nose getting stuffy, before shaking your head in refusal of your feelings and finally get the stupid key in the stupid knob. You slam your door and collapse to the floor, holding your head in your hands on your knees in the dark; the only light coming from the brightly shining moon outside. You scoot back and lean against your door loudly sobbing; desperately trying to relieve yourself of the trauma you've experienced as if it'd be gone when you stopped crying.