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“The lonliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they do is stare blankly.” -F. Scott Fitzgerald
Spencer Reid waited by the door.
Perhaps it seemed a little sad, or even childish, to sit idly by his front door with a big, orange bowl of candy tucked up against his chest. It was silent, apart from the vague sound of laughter echoing from the other side of his door. He smiled, shifting in his seat with excitement as he waited for the tell-tale knock of a small fist against wood. He couldn’t wait to open the door and get a eye-full of grinning children clad in small costumes, some trying to look scary while others blushed bashfully at having to interact with adults. He was the latter as a child. He gripped the bowl tighter, practically vibrating in his seat.
However, soon enough, the sound of joyful children faded as they passed his apartment door, knocking, instead, on the door directly next to his.
The excited bellowing of high-pitched, “Trick-or-Treat!” could be heard from the door beside his, followed by mock-gasps and the sound of an old lady’s voice innocently questioning who each child was supposed to be. The answers were what Spencer expected; Superman, a zombie, a cheerleader, a football player, a vampire, and so on and so forth. The doctor could also vaguely make out the sound of parents thanking the old woman before the pitter-pattering of steps ran off to the next apartment.
Maybe they just didn’t know I was giving out candy, the agent thought hopefully, looking down at his bowl of goodies with a smile. They’ll come back and realize they missed my apartment number. I’m sure of it.
Spencer had to resist the urge to open up and gobble up the candy himself. His sweet tooth seemed rather strong tonight, though he assumed it was his own fault for going all out for Halloween as a child. He wasn’t necessarily allowed to go out for long, or ever, on the holiday, but when he did, he always had a plan that ensured he would receive the most candy. The size of the sweets didn’t matter in the end, especially if he did the route correctly- for the amount of candy he got rivaled any king size Hershey bar he could have gotten had he snuck into the wealthy neighborhoods. So, naturally, when getting the amount of candy he did, he developed a rather large addiction to all treats (though most years he donated his candy to the dentists, who in turn gave it to the less wealthy children in town, as well as those in the hospital, who couldn’t go trick-or-treating).
It was his growing addiction to all sweet things that probably led to his thin stature, as he often opted for the less healthy option when searching for something to satisfy his hunger. With no real nutritional value, this diet left him rather feeble as a child. It also left him with sleepless nights, as sugar-rushes left him with lasting energy, leaving behind dark circles and hooded eyelids. A perfect target for bullies.
Now, as a man in his mid-twenties, alone and pitiful, he realized that he’s not much different.
He’s was still rather skinny, though he tried to ignore the way his bones jut out just to keep himself sane. And if anything, he’d lost a few hours of sleep upon growing older, switching to coffee and endless piles of paperwork instead of candy to keep himself awake. The dark bags under his eyes were more prominent than before, and though he knew his lifestyle wasn’t a very healthy one, he found himself not caring much. As long as he was getting the job done efficiently, he didn’t necessarily care.
Spencer loved Halloween.
It was his favorite holiday, in fact, and he would give anything to go back in time and go trick-or-treating again. Even if most of those night were spent with him walking the streets in the dead of night, alone and easily susceptible to being kidnapped or assaulted. He was smart enough to avoid dark areas and to somewhat stick to a crowd without getting in their way. As naive as he was as a child, he was still a genius and took all factors into account when planning his spooky endeavors. For instance, he knew to avoid the street a block away from his own because the first house on that road owned a large dog, who was known to get loose from it’s chain. After an unfortunate encounter with said mutt, which landed Spencer in the ER for stitches, he learned to never go down that road unless he had a death wish. He also knew to go Ms. Jen, who was known to miscalculate the amount of candy she would need, at some point, would let kids take as much as they wanted.
He finds, however, that Halloween was not as enjoyable as an adult. Seeing Jack’s costumes were cute, but it wasn’t the same as opening to door to grinning children, holding out pillow-cases to accept their gifts.
Reid isn’t entirely sure why the kids kept avoiding his apartment. Perhaps they knew something he didn’t? Were they scared of him? The doctor couldn’t think of any reasons for any of the children in his apartment complex to be afraid of him, for he always made an effort to be nice to them in hope that the Reid-Effect would soon fade away if he gave it a try. Evidently, that didn’t work.
Spencer waited another hour by his door, on the floor and knees brought up to his chest before he called it a night. Lifting his chin from his knees, he stood and stooped down to grab the bowl of candy.
If anything, he’d eat his sorrows away,
The genius sighed and began his trek to bed before-...
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Gasping, Reid rushed back to the door, brushed down his pajama shirt (which was decorated with pumpkins) and grinned as he opened the door. Expecting a smiling face and chubby cheeks staring back at him, he was surprised to find frowning lips and teary eyes. A woman grabbed at the child’s arm- who was dressed up as Lara Croft by the look of it- and began dragging her away before pausing upon realizing the door had already opened. It was obvious she had been trying to keep her child from knocking at all.
“Oh!” The mother exclaimed, dragging the child behind her, as if protecting her. “Um, sorry to disturb you, Doctor Reid.”
Spencer smiled warmly, but was still a little put off by the woman’s odd behavior. “It’s no problem, Miss Godfrey. Besides! I’ve got candy for Jenavive, if she wants any of course. And, wow! I love your costume, kid!”
The mother laughed awkwardly, still grasping the child’s arm.
“Yes, well, I think she’s gotten enough candy for tonight. Thank you, though, Doctor Reid. Have a good night.”
She turned to leave, but was stopped when Spencer finally decided to open his mouth and express his confusion as to why the families were ignoring him. It had been bothering him all night, to the point of tears as he thought back to his childhood, when trick-or-treating was more of a secret mission than a fun night out with mom and dad.
“Hey, would you by any chance know why no one’s been coming to my door for candy? I’ve got all these sweets and no kids to give them too!”
Miss Godfrey stopped in her tracks, eyes blown wide and mouth stuttering slightly. Jenevive frowned, and looked close to tears.
“Ah, well, it shouldn’t really-...”
“Please tell me,” The younger man begged, eyes pleading as he cleared his throat to control himself. “If you don’t mind.”
The woman sighed.
“I think your arms are answer enough.”
“My arms-...”
Spencer looked down at his exposed arms, the only real difference catching his eye being the small pin-prick scars littering the insides of his elbow. He couldn’t look away. It were as if those little, dark dots were drawing him in, holding him captive in their presence as he felt his lungs come to a halt. His body felt sluggish, as if someone we’re purposefully holding him down by the shoulders. Out of all the things he could have thought of, those scars weren’t even on the list.
“The whole floor knows,” The mother looked away, perhaps in disgust. “Maybe even the whole complex. Your neighbor told the book club about some guy coming over over week or so. Looked sketchy, and supposedly he knows what one of those men looks like. Ex-cop and all. I, uhm... I don’t think anyone wants there kids to be around someone like you. A drug addict.”
Spencer blinked once. Twice.
Don’t cry, he told himself as he looked down to the child hiding behind her mother’s legs, peering up at him with big, glassy, brown eyes. No, peering at the candy bowl clutched right in his hands. Don’t cry.
“I’m recovered,” He says carefully. “I’ve been ten months clean. She can-... she can have the candy if she wants.”
Miss Godfrey snorts. A few kids run by, followed by parents, who gave him a wavering look, as if daring him to offer candy, or even talk to them. Spencer steeled himself to stay calm- to not slam the door in their face and never come out.
“How do I know you haven’t laced it? A junkie like you isn’t exactly trustworthy.”
How could anyone think I would do that to a child? The kid thought, looking down into the seemingly endless expanse of his bowl. He was ten months clean, but it was crazy, he thought, how a single conversation could change that ten to a zero. They knew me before the drugs. They trusted me before. They knew who I was, so why would I be any different now? I’m still the same Doctor Reid, right? I would never hurt a child. I save children for a living! Spencer says none of this, merely glaring down into the vibrant, colorfully wrapped candy as of it would reach other and punch him square in the nose. I’m not a junkie, he tells himself. Not anymore. I’ve changed.
“Why would I do that to a child? What type of person do you think I am?”
It’s hard for people to realize, Spencer decides, that he didn’t take the drugs to hurt others. No, the only person he intentionally hurt was himself. Though he supposed the strain he put on others during his drug-induced gaze wasn’t fair, he didn’t take the full blame. A part of him convinces himself it was Tobias’ fault.
The other part of him rips apart at his very soul with the sheer amount of guilt he carries around of a daily basis. He still remembers watching on those cameras... begging... hoping for the victims to escape before their inevitable death. It haunts him to the day.
“I thought I knew,” She whispers. “Because the Doctor Reid I know would do any of this shi-... crap. The Doctor Reid I know wouldn’t destroy himself. So, I’m not sure who you are right not, Doctor, but until I do, I won’t trust you with anything. Not even my groceries, so don’t bothering coming down to help me next Saturday.”
But he liked to help her unpack groceries on Saturday’s. It gave his day purpose.
“I understand,” Spencer answered softly, once again look down to look at the girl. “I really do like your costume, though.”
“Thank you, Doctor Reid,” The little girl says softly, looking up to her mother for reassurance. The woman doesn’t look down, so the girl takes it upon herself to stand up on her tippy toes and grasp a piece of Laffy Taffy between her small fingers. Godfrey looks down at the sound of wrappers crinkling, but doesn’t stop the girl from taking the candy. Jenavive turns away grasping her mother’s hand and taking a few steps forward before beginning to tug uselessly at the limb. “C’mon, Momma! Let’s go next door! Thanks again, Doctor Reid! Happy Halloween!”
Spencer smiles despite the itch in his elbow.
Relief is a phone call away.
“Happy Halloween, Jenavive! Don’t be afraid to come back for more, I’ve got plenty!”
The girl giggles before skipping off to the next door, leaving Spencer to slink back into his apartment. In the darkness of the hallway, he feels like a ghost, trapped between the walls of his home and condemned there for the rest of forever. Like a Ghoul forced to spend the rest of eternity wallowing in wretched howling and ghastly screams with no escape from an internal hell. The genius wants nothing more than to slip on a costume and go candy-hunting himself, but he knows it’s futile. The oldest he got before he stopped was sixteen, and no later.
No one else knocked on his door that night.
When he woke up the next morning, preparing breakfast and getting his work clothes on, he received a text message from an unknown number. Opening it, his eternal frown deepens considerably.
Unknown: If my kid dies because of your candy, I’ll kill you.
Unknown: I mean it.
Spencer hopes to any God listening that there wasn’t some accident when making that specific piece of candy, or else he’d be as good as dead if the girl ate it. He wonders briefly, however, how the mother got his phone number. They had been neighbors for awhile now, but he doesn’t remember ever exchanging numbers with her. Deciding not to dwell on it, the Doctor continues to get ready for work before heading out, feeling exceptionally horrible after eating half his weight in candy and getting a whole three hours of fitful sleep. The train ride was slow and his mind was feeling numb from all the sugar and caffeine from his morning coffee. Instead of feeling energized, he just felt more and more sleepy as time passed.
Maybe I should call in sick, the man wondered, but quickly dismissed the idea.
When he arrived at work, he was met with the usual greetings from his coworkers, which he answered with as much energy as he could muster before plopping down at his desk, sighing heavily. Morgan grinned and waltzed over to him, taking note of the way his head fell into his arms, which were crossed over his desk.
“Late night? Let me guess: a vampire! No, no... a werewolf! Nah. Oh, I got it! A witch! A sexy witch! No? Come on, man. Give me a hint.”
Spencer huffed out a laugh, smirking bitterly.
“More like a bitch.”
It went quiet. Morgan’s facade of confidence fell and Spencer could see Emily pause her paperwork and look over. The kid hardly cursed, only if he was really angry or annoyed. But never in ordinary conversation. The others assumed it was because he didn’t believe such vulgar language sounded intelligent, but really it was simply because he knew better words to fill in the obscenities. If he wanted to curse, he would, and had no qualms about doing so.
The raven-haired agent turned towards Morgan, who was already eyeing her with a look that Spencer couldn’t quiet decipher. He was too tired to do so anyways, or care.
“How so?” Prentiss asked, intrigued, though she got back to her paperwork anyways.
Spencer shrugged and offered his signature straight-lipped smile, feeling awkward suddenly. He hadn’t meant to say something so horrible about his neighbor, but it had come out so suddenly, he could stop it. Of course the others would question it. They were quite observant.
Not enough to realize you had a drug addiction. Some profilers they are.
Spencer tells himself that they did know, but were obligated to not bring it to light in fear of him losing his job. It doesn’t matter. It was water under the bridge at this point, and he convinced himself that he couldn’t care less anymore.
“She just said something that kind of pissed me off. No big deal.”
“Who is this mystery girl anyway?” Morgan asked, sneering slightly at the sound of a woman making Spencer mad. It sounded as strange as a cat liking water, or a dog who didn’t like to play fetch. “Friend of yours?”
“My neighbor.”
Morgan grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Guessing game: Round Two! Was it Martha Lundenburg? Or maybe it was Chelsea Vaden the brunette from the second floor. Was it Lauren Smith from the laundry room incident? No, I get it was Hannah Godfrey!”
Spencer held back a flinch. “Now that you’re done with playing ‘Which Witch is Which?’, can we please get back to work.”
“No, we wanna know what has you so pissy this morning,” The older man pressed. Spencer resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“I told you, my neighbor just said something that upset me,” The doctor concluded.
Prentiss frowned. “Well, what did she say?”
He contemplated telling them the truth. But soon enough, his logical side took over and he soon realized that if he told them the truth, they’d be all bothered for the rest of the day, and maybe we’ll into the night. Besides, he didn’t want to be a burden on there mind for even a moment, so he shook his head and grasped his pile of paperwork- some of which was definitely Derek’s. The older man in question grabbed the stack and snatched the top three files quickly before giving it back and clearing his throat. Spencer smiled.
“Doesn’t matter. Now, leave me alone so I can finish my work in peace.”
The older agents shared another secret look before Morgan sauntered off to his own desk. Emily looked back at her own work, but her shoulders were stiff and her face looked pained. He could feel Derek occasionally looking back at him, searching for something that wasn’t there. This was why Spencer never told them anything. His teammates- bless their hearts- always got involved where they needn’t be and he always ended up paying for there lapse in judgement by burdening them with his own luggage. It bothered him to no end.
Up on the cat walk, he could hear Hotch rambling in to the mail boy about how cute his son had been the earlier night. The man looked genuinely interested in photos, cooing over each one. If there was one thing that could bring the stoic man out of his shell, it was his son. It was so uncharacteristically warm of him to be speaking to the mail boy, Spencer almost smiled. Almost.
He could sense Emily smiling up at the two.
The older woman turned towards Reid. “Isn’t Halloween your favorite holiday, like, ever?”
Reid didn’t look up. “Yeah, why?”
“Well, don’t you think you’d have more fun if you had your own kids to take trick-or-treating? Maybe it’s time to settle down, you know? Start a family,” Her smile didn’t waver, but it began to look strained, as if she realized what she had said an regretted it. “I just-... think you’d enjoy it more if you had someone to enjoy it with.”
Spencer’s hand still from writing, but still, he did not look up. “I don’t plan on having children.”
“Oh,” She whispered. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Not like you said anything offensive, hah,” The younger agent laughed nervously, forcing himself to continue his work despite how badly he wanted to turn tail and run out of the building and right back into bed. In the safety of his home, he could gorge himself all day long until his stomach was bulging and he could no longer see his hip bones. That’s all he wanted. “But seriously, I enjoy it as it is. I like to give out candy.”
Prentiss smiled, relieved to get rid of the tension she caused. “You must give out a lot of candy, I just know it! You must let the kids go ham just to make them happy, eh?”
Spencer’s heart clenched.
“Right.”
His phone buzzed three times, and he quickly pulled it from his pocket to check who had messaged him so feverishly
Unknown: She’s fine.
Unknown: Sorry for all the trouble, but you must understand where we’re coming from.
Unknown: I mean, would you let your kid take candy from someone with a serious drug addiction? Hopefully the answer is no. If you want to help me with groceries you still can, I guess. If you want. Jenevive says thank you for the candy.
He doesn’t understand because he doesn’t have a drug addiction. He had a drug problem. A problem that’s been resolved for just about ten months now it’s no sign of return. He feels good. Halloween made him feel hollow, but he resisted the urge to drive a needle through his skin and that’s all that mattered in the end. Instead, he used the sugar to drown out his suffering. It worked.
Maybe it’s a good thing he doesn’t want kids.