What's Wrong with Reid?

The Hospital

I'm not much for author notes, so my stories won't have very many, but when I started this story I expected like 20 reads. Now, I have 121 with only a few chapters out. Thank you guys! Keep Reiding - Pun intended.

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Reid POV

"Reid what were you thinking?" Hotch practically shouted. Yup, this was going to end well. "You could have been killed! I should fire you!" He said, almost disbelievingly.

"Actually, Hotch, I realized a pattern. I realized that it's the same guy. I realized that he has OCD. And they don't make Kevlar vests for your shoulders." I stated angrily.

Hotch stood up. "Right now I'm starting to consider firing you. What's wrong with you Reid? You're not like this!"

I looked up. In my heart I knew he was right, but my head and heart weren't communicating well at the time. "If you think you can solve this case without me, then go ahead and do that. But if not, I'm headed to the station. I need to see the victims' files, I might be on to something." I said, kind of harshly.

I didn't know what was wrong, just that something was. I was coughing blood! But I couldn't let them know. I just couldn't. If it took being rude and harsh, then I would do it. Others were being kidnapped, and if I was right, which I usually was, then it was a lot worse than that.

I sighed. It clicked when I saw the blood on my hand. Obviously it was the same guy, with the 8-point star that had the biohazard facility was in the middle. But what if he was kidnapping people to test them? What if, he was creating a new strain of anthrax, then testing it on people with different blood types and genders?

I wasn't sure, I needed the medical files to see, but in the end I was right. Two of each blood type, one male and one female, and all of them were Rh positive. "Guys, you're not going to like this." I said before explaining my theory. "Well, it makes sense." Emily said. "But the amount of planning it must have taken! Finding all the right blood types in those exact locations to create the star? How could anyone have enough time for that?" She said disbelievingly.

"So we believe our unsub has no social life." Hotch said, beginning the profile. "And by none, we mean none. This unsub doesn't have a Facebook, doesn't have a Twitter, doesn't buy a cable subscription. He most likely doesn't use any internet, but he still uses modern technology." Emily said. "He's most likely self-employed, he'd need to be to get the time to plan this. He has severe OCD, and it'll be reflected in everything he does - furniture arrangements, house decor, ect." JJ stated.

"This unsub lives someplace rural, most likely a farmhouse with additional land." I began, my eyes squinted from the bright light. "He definitely has a career that deals with viruses, or at least has one. He almost certainly has a degree relating to it, probably chemistry." "He's also male, between the ages of 20 to 35, and though he is physically fit, if you took a look at him you wouldn't think it was him." Morgan ended before walking back to the conference room with the others.

I started walking back, but started stumbling seeing as my vision was extremely blurry. That mixed with a horrible migraine was brutal, but for some reason I decided to suffer through it.

I now wish more than anything I had told someone and gotten to a hospital. Then maybe I wouldn't be here now.

I grabbed a table until my knuckles turned ivory to regain my balance. Once I had, I walked quickly to the conference room and clasped into a chair. Luckily, I thought, everyone was busy enough that they didn't notice my late entry.

I sighed. They couldn't know, I thought. How wrong I was.