LAUGHTER LINES, spencer reid.

chapter twenty five

LAUGHTER LINES
chapter twenty five.

Spencer groaned as he laid his head down on the table in Garcia's office. He should have been in the conference room but at about two in the morning, Spencer found himself fighting a headache. The genius buried his face in his folded arms as he tried to focus on the case. He couldn't stop. Not now. Not when Gwen was still out there. Even the constant throbbing just behind his temple wasn't going to stop him. He was determined to get Gwen back.

"Kid?" Morgan's voice floated through the door as Spencer heard a soft knock. He heard the door open slowly and assumed the older agent had stepped in. "The entire team is back. Hotch said you came in here."

Morgan was holding his duffel bag over his shoulder in an attempt to proceed with acting normal around Reid. Treating Spencer with kid gloves didn't really seem like the way to go with this situation. He frowned when he found Reid hiding his face, making an audible wince at the light that was coming through Garcia's door. "I thought your headaches had stopped," Morgan said, closing the door quietly. He kept his voice low, knowing that loud noises were not the youngest agent's friend.

"They had," Spencer answered. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. "I've had this one since two in the morning."

Morgan pulled one of Garcia's chairs away from the rows of computer screens and sat down next to Reid. He dropped his bag under the table and started studying his best friend. He could see how tired Reid was. The added worry and stress of Gwenevere's disappearance was starting to take a toll on Reid's body. He had bags under his lost eyes, his hair was unruly and full of knots, his clothes wrinkled, and it was clear by the growing stubble around his chin that Spencer had yet to shave.

"Have you slept at all?" Morgan asked, knowing the answer would be a firm and resounding negative.

Reid shook his head resolutely. "I've been here all night going over the geographic profile, trying to figure out Foster's plan. What if-"

"Hey," Morgan shook his head leaning back in the desk chair. "You can't go there." He sat back up to rest a hand on Reid's shoulder. He pulled back when Reid shied away slightly, deciding to give Spencer a little space. He decided to talk about something else. "Maybe your headache is stress related. This job has a way of getting to all of us. Take a break, rest, take some Advil. JJ, Rossi, and I are all here and can take over while you recharge your batteries. We're going to find Gwen."

"If my headaches are stress related to my job, then why did they go away?" Reid asked. "It's been a few months since I had one this bad." He tried to think back to when he last had a blindingly painful migraine. Was it September when he was with his mom?

"Come on, Reid," Morgan laughed a little. "Even I know the answer to that one. You're stress level has gone down a lot since the first couple months when you started getting headaches. You have a life outside of this job now. You're always talking about Greg's Robot or Lizzie's papers for school. Look at Hotch. He battles the stress by spending time with Jack and Beth. I renovate houses to keep away the demons. We all have something. I think the Thompson's are your something."

Reid looked at Morgan. He understood the agent, but he had to seriously think about what that meant. He loved Gwenevere. He knew that much. What Morgan said, it meant that Gwenevere and her family were what kept him grounded. Somehow, Reid's stress melted away when he came home to some semblance of normal. It was as normal as tortoises in party hats, robots, and the occasional act of defenestration could be, but it sure beat thinking about the criminals, the cases, the bodies, and the families who had lost a loved one.