Hidden // Spencer Reid

Tired

As everybody meanders out the door, and Garcia walks out proudly as the winner of Scrabble, I notice only five of them left. Where's....
Reid?

Did he ever come out of the bathroom?

I tread lightly down the hallway, past Derek (who is chatting to Hotch) and to the door of the bathroom. What's he doing in there? I mean, all I hear is a running sink, and somebody splashing water. Some unintelligible words are mumbled.

"Uh, Dr. Reid?" I call quietly, awkwardly.

He opens the door in a flourish. "Excuse me," he mutters, pushing past me.

No way. I'm known for my stubbornness. "Excuse me?" I snap, blocking his path. He stares down at me, eyes as big as saucers.

"I-I-I need to-" he sputters, but I cut him off.

"And I need to know why you don't want to talk to me!" I counter, and he almost chuckles.

But he just shakes his head and keeps walking. I stop him again.

"My house, my rules." I snap, my temper rising. He needs to give me a reason now.

He tries to get past me, but I put my arm out and block him.

Almost as soon as I touch him, my awkward unexplainable nervousness takes over. We stare at each other for a while, and I can't find the words on the tip of my tongue. Then he awkwardly and hastily pushes my arm away and leaves.

"Hey, thanks for coming, pretty boy!" Derek calls as Reid rushes out the door. Hotch leaves as well. Derek walks up to me.

"I don't think he likes me," I tell him as he raises his eyebrows. "What?" I push. I hate his profiling.

"You seem... Frazzled." He observes. I sigh and roll my eyes.

"Were you even listening to me?" I snap. He winces. He knows that I won't sleep all night if I'm angry, and I'll just stay up, watch adult swim, clean everything, and listen to alternative music. And he knows that I'll be tired in the morning and I won't want to talk to him. So he'll try his hardest to make me happy.

"Maybe it's because you're so stubborn," he jokes. I laugh extremely sarcastically. He rolls his eyes.

"What?" I ask lightly, swiping away an invisible tear.

"You're awful." He mutters, walking into the kitchen and grabbing the cardboard boxes. I smile genuinely. But I'll still watch adult swim tonight, listen to music, and clean the kitchen.