Chapter Text
Seventeen year old Reid slouched down the hall, his shoulders slightly hunched and his head bent toward the floor. Despite the length of his legs, crossing the three yard space was taking an exceptionally long time. He sighed as he reached the door and almost turned around and headed back down the stairs. He raised his fist, stopping just short of making contact with the white stained wood. Finally he rapped sharply on the door before he could find another excuse not to and waited for a reply.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see his mother. In fact she had been rather calm last night, apparently delighted to see him. No, what he dreaded was the moments when she became someone else, someone neither of them could control. One moment she would be completely lucid, or at least relatively calm. Then suddenly she would become frenzied, hysterical, a hint of fear shining through. He lived for the moments when his mother could hold a lucid conversation or seemed happy. Over the years Spencer had learned to recognize the signs and sometimes he could forestall one of her fits or calm her down. Unfortunately those times were becoming less frequent and he was beginning to realize that it wasn’t enough anymore. He knocked again.
“Mom.” He called hoarsely. His voice stilled cracked occasionally lending to the general impression that he was an exceptionally tall thirteen-year old. “Mom, its Spencer.”
A groggy voice answered. “Spencer, baby, what’s the matter?” Reid took the old endearment in stride, knowing his mother still saw him as a child.
“Mom, may I come in?” He heard a faint noise of response that could have either been a denial or an affirmation. He entered the room slowly, as though something dangerous lay within. The room was filled with a dim yellow glow, despite the bright light that stayed hidden just behind the drawn curtains. His mother sat in the middle of her bed, amidst piles of scattered papers, books, and a number of writing utensils. She didn’t greet him and Reid assumed that she was completely consumed with her writing.
“Mom?” He kept his voice low and was rewarded with a raised head. Diana Reid’s hair was a glorious disarray of blond spikes around her head. She wore a slight look of confusion that was quickly replaced with a fond smile.
“Spencer, I made so much progress on my new article…I’ll read it for you.” Spencer sat down beside her and gently tugged the notepad from her hand.
“Mom, I made breakfast. Come eat with me.” She shook her head.
“Oh, Spencer, I have too much work to do. Maybe later.” Spencer had expected this, his mother skipped so many meals he sometimes wondered how she survived while he was gone. A sharp stab of guilt sliced through him.
“I know, Mom.” He agreed as he placed an arm beneath her elbow. “You can come back as soon as you’ve eaten. I made your favorite.” Diana sent a worried glance towards the bed but stood up eventually and allowed Spencer to guide her from the room.