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“Reid,” Morgan calls from his seat across the jet. “You good?”
Spencer shakes his head quickly to clear the fog in his brain. He can’t tear his eyes from where he’s staring at his socks, but at least now he’s lucid and paying attention to his surroundings again. His knee continues to bounce rapidly, and he makes no move to still it.
“Mm,” he answers, still staring at the dotted pattern on his socks. “Yeah. ‘m good.”
“You seem spaced out,” Prentiss pipes up.
“I am,” Reid mumbles. He finally manages to glance away from his socks, meeting Morgan and Prentiss’ gaze.
“Are you anxious, Reid?” Hotch inquires, not peeking up from the case file he’s examining. Reid appreciates his subtlety, and the way he asks as though he hasn’t seen Reid like this a million times. Hotch knows how to check on Reid without making it a big, attention-drawing thing. This particular moment, admittedly, isn’t the best example, because then JJ and Rossi are looking over to him as well for any sign that he’s going to melt down, but Reid attributes that more to Morgan’s initial question.
“I’m fine,” he finds himself saying without truly thinking. Hotch glances over the top of the file, raises an eyebrow, and Spencer remembers exactly what part of the FBI he works for and how long they’ve known him.
“Okay, I’m a little anxious,” he amends, twirling his fingers in his lap. His hands are balled into one tight fist, his lithe fingers bumping together as he fumbles with them.
“Is there anything particular bothering you?” JJ asks, keeping her voice level for how tense he can tell she really is. He takes note of how much they’ve all improved with handling his various behaviors and occasional meltdowns, but JJ still keeps her tension in her shoulders and between her eyebrows.
Reid knows JJ worries about her the same way she worries about Henry, the same way Hotch worries about Jack. He knows he should probably find that infantilizing and degrading, but instead it just makes him feel safe; the team has his back, because he’s family.
“Nothing especially,” Reid replies when JJ raises an eyebrow at him at his lack of an answer.
“Well, let us know if you need anything,” Emily states with an air of finality, and Reid takes great comfort in everyone’s attention shifting from him back to their files.
Reid brings his own focus back to his hands, where his fingers are fumbling and bumping against each other seemingly of their own accord. He twists the hair elastic on his wrist into a loop and wraps it around his middle finger, focusing on the slight tension it creates. He likes that feeling, far more than the feeling of picking at his skin until he bleeds or twisting his hair in uncomfortable knots that are near impossible to get out later.
He glances up when he feels the presence of someone across from him. He’s met with the sight of Hotch settling into the seat opposite him. He has something in his hands, but Reid can’t quite make out what it is.
“I noticed you’ve been anxious a lot lately,” Hotch observes. Reid opens his mouth to protest, but before he can, Hotch continues. “You only shake your legs at times of especially high stress.”
From across the aisle, Morgan chimes in. “Because it drives us all insane.”
“Morgan,” Hotch warns. Morgan throws his hands up in protest and shifts his attention back to his file again.
“You’ve been doing it a lot lately,” Hotch reiterates. Reid awkwardly shifts his gaze back to his wrist. He undoes the loop around his finger and instead begins to twist it in circles around his wrist as Hotch keeps talking.
“Now, I’m not trying to profile you, or tell you to stop. I just saw this and thought it might help.” Hotch carefully places the object in his hands on the table in front of Reid.
Spencer examines the object carefully. It’s a small blue cube with black embellishments on each side. When he picks it up, he gets a chance to take a closer look. One side has a switch, much like the ones on every wall in the BAU that turn the lights on. Another side has a small metal sphere that spins under his thumb. The side Hotch put it down on is simple, with an indent in the middle that fits his thumb nicely. The plastic is smooth and cool beneath his touch. The fourth side has a set of five buttons, formed in the pattern of a die. The fifth side has a set of three tiny black gears, and the final side has a protruding joystick that spins and twirls and clicks pleasantly when he pushes on it.
He takes his eyes off the cube to look at Hotch.
“It’s called a fidget cube,” Hotch explains. “Jack saw a classmate had one, and he asked if he could get one too, and… Well, when I saw it, I thought you might like it.”
Reid is quiet for another long moment, examining each side with great intensity and focus. The gears make a nice quiet sound, and he likes the feeling of the notches under his fingertips. The buttons are slightly too loud to be noticeable to only him, but they’re quite nice to press. The switch is perhaps his favorite, and he finds himself greatly enjoying the feeling of his thumb rocking back and forth, shifting the pressure from side to side.
“What do you think?” Hotch prompts finally. It’s not a ‘tell me you like it or my feelings will be hurt’ question. It’s genuine, curious, if not slightly hopeful.
All of the sudden, Spencer feels a little choked up. He loves it, it’s wonderful and thoughtful and kind and delivered in a way that’s so distinctly Hotch, and God he loves his team.
Reid meets Hotch’s eyes and gives him a smile that he can tell just from feeling it on his face is embarrassingly watery. His voice shakes a little as he replies, “I love it, Hotch.”
Reid watches Hotch’s face light up a little before he regains his usual composure. He clears his throat. “Well, I’m glad. They had other colors, but I thought that you would like the blue best.”
“What other colors were there?” Reid asks, not out of wanting a different one, but simply because he’s curious.
Hotch knows that, though, and he answers that there was one that was completely black, one that was white, and a red and a yellow one. Reid grins and tells him the blue is perfect, because it is.
Everything about it is completely perfect.