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On account of a certain vibrant, nosy tech genius, Seaver's uncannily high test scores at the academy didn't go unacknowledged by the team. They'd taken to quizzing her during coffee, lunch, and case breaks like a one-woman jeopardy game. "...and, as we know, only 16% of arsonists are ever caught." she finished, one eyebrow slightly arched in defiance.
Rossi, with a spare chair pulled up to the desks, sported a smug grin that only grew at Morgan's scoff. "Okay, hotshot, what about the Gill Lake Wraith? What proved they weren't suicides?"
"Well, first of all, no prior attempts, no depression, no spontaneous declarations of love, no withdrawal…"
Reid's approving smile vanished as the colour drained from his face. He launched out of his chair, practically sprinting through the doors out of the bullpen. Seaver trailed off as the group turned to see the doors swinging in his wake.
---
"Come on, c'mon, c'mon…" Reid's fingers drummed against the back of his phone and against his thigh. After five rings and no answer, he hung up and redialed.
"Hey, sorry, it's a bit crazy here today…" JJ's tone carried the weight of the stack of paperwork on her desk.
Reid inhaled to speak, but the words stuck in his throat.
"Spence?" Her focus shifted entirely to him, but all she could hear was a strangled noise through the receiver. "Spence, are you okay? What's going on?"
He could tell she was on her feet to move at this point and did his best to quell her panic. "She-" A squeak. He cleared his throat. "She told me, JJ." A shaky breath. "She was warning me and I didn't notice."
"...Spence… What are you-?"
"Emily." It was more of a sob than a word. "She- she warned me and I didn't see it. Jayje- I didn't see it."
She swallowed around the lump in her throat and focused her efforts to level her voice. "Spence, she had her mind made up, none of us could have foreseen what was going to happen."
"Spontaneous declarations of love."
Tears sprang to JJ's eyes as her free hand found her necklace automatically. "Spence…"
"I'm an FBI profiler, JJ, and I didn't- it's an intro level red flag. I just felt... flattered."
"I know what you're feeling, but it's not. your. fault. You know that, Spence."
"She died to protect us, JJ, to protect me. It is my fault and I didn't even notice when she warned me! She knew she wasn't coming back from this. She knew for weeks while we were treading water!" His volume rose as he spoke before breaking like a fever. Weakly: "What am I doing here, Jayje?"
She couldn't find her voice to respond.
"An IQ of 187, highest grades in academy history, the youngest ever BAU placement and I couldn't pick up a psych 101 warning sign for my friend."
"Spence-"
"Gideon was right." He mumbled, his voice low.
"What was that?"
"Noth-nothing, I'm sorry I called, sorry," his voice high and rushed as he abruptly ended the call.
"Spence, wait!" The line was already dead. JJ took a deep breath, shook her head to clear it, and pressed '3' on her speed-dial.
---
"Reid?" Morgan called out as he turned down the hallway. "Hey, kid, I've been looking for you-"
Reid brushed past him. "Sorry, I have to do something."
Morgan turned to watch him, taken aback for a moment by the hollowness of Reid's voice before following him.
Reid stalked back, through the halls and bullpen, to Hotch's office, taking no notice of the quizzical expressions on the faces of his team and without bothering to knock. He went straight to Hotch's desk as the man himself turned to face him, phone to his ear. "Okay, thank you. I'll keep you posted."
Before Hotch had a chance to speak, Reid placed his gun and badge on the desk, taking a step backward to make his distancing literal.
"Reid…".
"I don't- I can't, anymore." Reid's fingers thrummed against the sides of his legs in agitation.
"What do you mean, Reid?"
"Hotch, I couldn't see it in a friend... How am I supposed to do this job?"
Rising from his seat, Hotch crossed the office and closed the door before placing a hand on Reid's shoulder to speak.
---
After a tense, perplexed wait, Morgan, Seaver, and Rossi watched Hotch's door open to reveal a defeated-looking Reid. Hotch gave his shoulder one last gentle squeeze before pushing a button on his phone and raising it to his ear. Their concern grew as they saw that Reid was re-holstering his gun and pocketing his badge.
"...Reid?" Morgan started. "Wha-"
"I, uh, I have to go. I'm not feeling well." He quickly shouldered his messenger bag and breezed out of the bullpen for the second time that afternoon. The team shared a look before turning their attention back towards Hotch's office, just in time to see the blinds close.
---
In the dim light of his office, Hotch’s elbows rested on his desk, one hand white-knuckling his phone as the other rubbed his temples. “I just had to talk Reid down from resigning, JJ… He tried to give me his badge and gun after you called. ” He paused before continuing, his tone drained and uncharacteristically vulnerable. “Why does the right thing to do have to feel so wrong?”
A shaky sigh came through from the other end of the line. "It'll get easier, Hotch. It has to."