Echos of a Genius | Spencer Reid

A Friend

Stephie

There's nothing quite like walking into the office and feeling a dozen pairs of eyes on you. It's like being on display, a specimen under scrutiny. The weeks I spent away from the team felt like an eternity, and the mandated therapy sessions only made it worse. Hotch wouldn't clear me for duty until I got the green light from the shrink, and now, here I am, back at the BAU, pretending everything is fine.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I walk toward my desk. The bullpen is buzzing with activity, but it feels like all of it stops the moment I enter. Hotch glances up from his office, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than usual before he returns to his paperwork. I know he's watching, waiting to see how I'll handle being back. Everyone is.

I spot Spencer at his desk, hunched over something with intense focus. His lanky frame is bent close to the surface, and he hasn't noticed me yet. A small pang of disappointment tugs at my chest, but I push it down. We didn't exactly part on good terms, and it's not like I expected a warm welcome. Still, it stings more than I'd like to admit.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice coming out more casual than I feel.

Spencer doesn't even look up, his fingers working delicately at whatever contraption he's constructing. "Rocket?" he says, almost like he's questioning it himself.

At the mention of a rocket, Garcia's head snaps up, her curiosity piqued. She bounces over, practically glowing with excitement. "Did you say rocket?" she asks, leaning over Spencer's shoulder, her bright eyes darting between him and the project. I can't resist joining them, sidling up to the other side of Spencer's desk to get a better look.

"What's going on over here?" JJ's voice chimes in as she walks over, completing our little circle. She crosses her arms and leans in, her usual warm smile playing on her lips.

Spencer doesn't answer, his brow furrowing in concentration. The four of us stand there, waiting for something to happen, but the contraption just sits there, motionless.

"Nothing's happening..." I glance at JJ, who nods in agreement, a bemused look on her face.

"Shh! Watch!" Spencer shushes us, waving his hands like he's shooing away flies. I roll my eyes, just about ready to give up, when suddenly, the device whirs to life. With a tiny hiss, the "rocket" shoots into the air, causing all of us to jump back in surprise.

The timing couldn't have been worse. Just as the rocket reaches its peak, a woman with dark hair walks into the bullpen, and the rocket lands squarely on her head. I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to stifle my laughter, but it's no use. Spencer turns beet red, his embarrassment palpable.

"I'm so sorry, Emily," he stammers, offering her an awkward smile.

Emily? I blink in surprise. So, this is the famous Emily Prentiss—Elle's replacement. I hadn't expected to meet her like this.

She looks up at the ceiling, then back at us, clearly bewildered. "What was that?" she asks, rubbing the spot where the rocket hit her.

"Don't you recognize a rocket when you see one?" Garcia chirps, her grin wide as she sidles up next to Emily.

"I...I was merely demonstrating a physics law," Spencer mumbles, his words tumbling out in a rush. "I-I didn't mean to hit you..."

Emily raises an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued despite the odd introduction. "Oh, show me," she says, her tone laced with genuine interest as she steps closer to join the group. We lock eyes for a brief moment, and I can see the curiosity in her gaze, but neither of us says a word.