High and Drowning

Chapter 12

metamorphosis [medəˈmôrfəsəs]

a noun 

a change of the nature of a person into a different one

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Emily found herself shrinking closer to the huddle of people. She watched Reid's face, watched the intense struggle play out on his pale face. 

A twinge of guilt stung her. It wasn't all her fault. This was a culmination of many, many things. Tobias Hankel, drug addiction, PTSD that really wasn't addressed, a myriad of trauma before all of that, all wrapped up in one neat bow. Of course it really hadn't helped that Emily had blundered in and told him that essentially, no one could give a damn. 

She cringed. Drunk her was a loose cannon. 

She looked at Reid, his nervous fingers tapping impossibly fast on his cover, eyes darting from one person to the next. 

She hadn't really expected for it to get this far. But damn, this was hard to watch, this Reid was barely a shell of the Reid she had first met. That Reid was confident, and yeah, ok, a smartass, but he was happy, and he was whole, and he was Reid goddamn it. 

This wasn't Reid, or really the man she had known for like, a month. Before it all went to hell. 

She sighed and crouched down to look at him. "Hey, Reid." This felt weird. Like talking to a stranger. "You know you can say whatever you need to, to us." When he didn't respond, she tacked on, "Or not." 

He shifted and stood up. "I'm fine. I'm fine." Emily had seen enough emotionally strained people to know he was repeating a mantra to himself, forcing himself to believe it. 

Somewhere deep inside of her something broke, and she fiercely promised herself to always have his back, if, when, he came back.  

They may not be firm friends quite yet, not quite reached the buddy-buddy stage, but Emily was already determined to make sure to watch his back, to make sure he made it back.  

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He stumbled towards the kitchen counter, vaguely aware of the bodies following him. His hands sought out his medication and he swore softly under his breath when he dropped his pills on the ground. 

Wordlessly, JJ swooped in and scooped them up. She pressed them into his hand and got him a glass of water. He thanked her with a slight smile, quickly silenced by an intrusive thought. 

Morgan stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, concern written all over his face. Reid turned to face him, again hit with the overwhelming desire to just talk to him, but stopping when he foundered on the first words. 

He sighed and collapsed on the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Behind him. "One hell of a day." Emily. He watched her come and sit beside him. Silent, no intrusive pity oozing off of her. 

He sighed again and let out a slight chuckle. "Yeah, one hell of a day." 

Silence. 

A bag crackled. Morgan placed the now cold food on the counter and glanced at all three of them. "Any one want any?" He offered half-joking, half-serious. 

JJ shrugged. "Sure, why not?" She was suddenly exhausted. 

Reid looked at them. "My microwaves broken."

They all stared at him, then burst out laughing. The tension was lifted, slightly. 

Emily grabbed her plate from the counter. "Oh well, what the hell."