Spencer Finally Catches a Break

Chapter 2

              ***Author's note: This won't be strictly correct to the events after Maeve's death, it's my take on what I thought should happen.

       The sun was barely up in the sky when Spencer Reid heard a ding from his phone. He was awake, but rubbed his bleary, sleepless eyes in order to be able to see the message in anything but gibberish. It had been a horrifying night. It had been eight months since the fateful bullet was shot. Eight months since every dream he had of the future had been shattered. He immediately thought of a statistic for insomnia. Nearly 70 million people have the same problem as him in the US only.

       Every time he thought he was feeling better, another wave of depression and guilt dripped over him. Why should he ever feel joy again when the only person who brought it to him is dead? He shook the feeling of, knowing Maeve would hate his thinking like this.

      He shook his head and changed his clothes slowly, wishing he had gotten more sleep last night, and hoping he'd stop seeing his deceased girlfriend star in all of his dreams. 

       When he arrived at the BAU office he beelined for the coffee cart, meeting Morgan at the table.

       "Hey pretty boy. Leave some sugar for the rest of us," Morgan joked, seeing Reid pile spoonful after spoonful of sugar into one cup of coffee. Reid let out a half-hearted chuckle, and continued piling one more spoonful. Reid and Morgan's relationship had altered since Maeve. When Reid asked for help in finding Maeve it was one of the only times that he had ever opened up to the team, and when she died he pulled away for almost two months before returning. 

       Morgan walked over and clapped Reid on the back, causing his coffee to jostle in the cup and his back to ripple from Morgan's  strength.

       "We gotta get going. Hotch'll be wondering where we are," Morgan said, heading towards the door. He motioned for Reid to follow him, and left, Reid trailing behind him.

       When they entered the briefing room, everyone was sitting down, feasting their eyes on the new horror of the day, except for Garcia, who always sits facing away from the screen. One of Garcia's admirable qualities, besides everything about her, was that she knew where her limits were. The photos were of the macabre variety. Homes burnt to a crisp, and the bodies were charcoal skeletons. 

       "There have been three crime scenes, all married couples in small homes, located in Florida," Hotch stated. 

       "This may show that he's hesitant, or not quite sure of himself. He may be young, about 59% of serial arsonists started under the age of eighteen, while 80% start under the age of twenty-nine," Spencer quoted, remembering a study he had read.

       "The wounds on the husbands are anything but hesitant," Garcia stated, "they were stabbed eleven times, he..." Garcia gulped. "He twisted the knife to hurt them more. He followed suit with the other homes, but he always left the wife alone."

      "It sounds like he was abused by a father figure, but the mother figure never did anything about it, which is why he left her alone, without stabbing her, but he still let her burn," Morgan thought out loud.

      "The abuse could have also been aimed at the mom as well, so he thinks he may be putting her out of her misery. That, or she left," Alex commented.

       "I agree with the theory about the mom being abused. It corresponds with the torture to the husband," JJ added.

       "We're heading to Florida, wheels up in thirty," Hotch informed.

                                                                                        ***

       "So we understand that The unsub has familial issues, and he probably started fires early in his youth. Garcia, would you cross check missing or aloof mothers, with children who had juvie sentences?" Reid questioned.

       "Also look for Floridian families, probably in the Palmetto Bradenton area. He's advanced his trade, he probably isn't part of the 59% that are under eighteen, but the 80% in their twenties," Alex added.

       "Babies, that's about 2,000 people. Profile more. Garcia out." The screen beeped, and Penelope disappeared. 

       The team searched over the case file, looking for that little clue that could crack the case wide open. Reid was stuck on one page, which was incredibly peculiar for the young genius who could read 20,000 words per mintue. Rossi had noticed, and motioned for Spencer to take a seat next to him. 

       "I'm pretty sure there aren't 300,000 words on that page. You ok?" Rossi questioned.

       "I have a bit on my mind," Reid said aloofly, fingering through the case file quicker.

       "Is it Maeve?" Rossi bluntly asked.

       Reid, obviously surprised at his lack of subtlety, answered truthfully. "Not quite. Just wondering about the future. Existential crisis's can happen to any given person at any time. I had my first at seven. I was reading a book on psychosis, and I was wondering why. I wanted to become a FBI profiler, but why? I wanted to get married, and have kids, but why? I didn't know if I could ever get married, but I didn't want to give up on kids. Now... Now I just feel like they're tied so closely together that I can't have one without the other. Only 8% of parent situations are single fathers, and single fathers stray more toward the poverty line than single moms."

       Rossi was surprised. He hadn't known Reid felt this strongly about becoming a father.

       "You can always become a parent. You could adopt, or foster, you could even get a surrogate mother." Reid followed him, nodding, pondering what to do, if anything. Rossi lovingly patted him on the back, and walked back to his seat. Spencer sat back down.

       They were just about to land when Hotch was pulled away on a call. They got off the plane at almost nine o'clock in the evening, Hotch following them after with a grim look on his face.

       "There's been another fire, it's in Sarasota. Quickly, head to the cars." The team's faces went stoic as they head to their vehicles.

       When they exited the vehicles at the smoldering home, they heard a horrifying, pitiful cry of pain from a adolescent girl in the middle of the cul-de-sac. They watched as she promptly passed out.

      She was surrounded by medics, but it didn't seem to be anything serious.

       "Who's she?" Morgan asked. Hotch looked around, confused.

      "I'm not quite sure. Reid, go over there and question her. She may be a neighbor who witnessed the incident. The rest of you, come with me, lets look at the house."

       Reid headed over to the ambulance where the girl was sitting, while the team walked towards the house.

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Hey! I think I'll be updating every other day as I can, I'll try my best to adhere to schedule. Thank you so much for reading, and reviews are always welcome. Have a lovely day/night/whatever! xoxo