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gryfflepuffinthetardis · 2 months ago

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The Popular Kids

Season One Masterlist

Derailed

Bloody Hungry

Summary: Apparent Satantic rituals brings the team to a small town where a high school jock is killed and his girlfriend goes missing. Meanwhile Spencer starts having nightmares.

Warning: Death of teenager(s); Misunderstanding, Spencer drinking too much sugar, Zoe being a little mean to Spencer, Nightmares, Guilt, Schizophrenia statistics (not sure if they're totally correct); ADHD rant in the bottom notes; Talk of post-mortem C-sections

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"I'd rather be a lone wolf than a popular sheep."

November 30, 2005

Spencer poured more sugar than usual in his morning coffee in his labeled coffee mug.

"Easy there, tough guy." Morgan teased, "Have some coffee with your sugar."

"I need something to wake me up." Spencer said.

"Ooh. Late night?

"Very."

"My man." Morgan praised.

"Not that kind of late night." Spencer blushed, being very much a virgin. Never having so much as kissed a girl and barely been on a date with one and increasingly falling in love with his best friend who is closed off to romance or normal relationships in general.

Morgan chuckled, pouring his own cup of coffee, "Okay, so tell me, what does keep young Doctor Reid awake at night?" Spencer drank his more sugary than usual coffee and turned around to watch Morgan tease him. "Wait, let me guess. Memorising some obscure textbook? No, no, no. Working on cold fusion. No, I got it, I got, I got it. Watching Star Trek and laughing at the physics mistakes."

"Actually, there aren't that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering how long ago it was made. There are certain improbabilities, but not that many outright errors." Spencer informed him.

"Right." Morgan said and went to leave.

"Hey, Morgan?" Spencer asked and Morgan turned around. "Do you ever have dreams?"

"I'm sorry?" Morgan asked.

"I guess, uh, nightmares would be a more accurate description." Spencer said.

"Is that what's keeping you up?" Morgan asked, his tone was now rarely serious from his concern for Spencer.

"I used to get them occasionally, but lately it's like I have them every night." Spencer confessed.

"What are they about?"

"This. What we do." Spencer replied and after a moment he asked, "Do you have nightmares?"

"Reid, I'm not sure if I'm the right person for you to talk to about this." Morgan said.

"Why not?" Spencer asked.

"It's just, uh... Did you ask Gideon about it?" Morgan asked.

"No." Spencer shook his head.

"You should."

"I'd normally ask Zoe but I think she's mad at me about something but I don't know what."

"Good luck with that." Morgan said, Zoe seemed to always be mad about something.

Spencer just gave him an unamused look and Elle interrupted the conversation, "Hey. Hotch wants everyone in the Round Table room." She looked between the two, the tension wasn't like it usually was with Morgan teasing Spencer and Spencer annoying him with facts Morgan deemed useless. "Something up with you two?"

"No." Spencer lied and turned to move to the round table room.

JJ entered with Hotch, Gideon, and Alexander on the other side of the room, "McAllister." She said, "Western slope of the Massanutten Mountain in Virginia. Two bodies discovered in the woods, both with apparent blunt trauma to the head."

"Skeletons?" Spencer asked.

"One of them." JJ said. "The second victim was just killed this morning.

"How do we know there's a connection?" Elle asked.

"Found about seventy-five feet apart with nearly identical head wounds." Hotch said.

"Where's the rest of the case file?" Morgan asked, picking up the thin file.

"There isn't one. The sheriffs are on the scene waiting for us."

"The location's only a half-hour away by plane. We're just waiting for Zoe to come in." JJ said.

Zoe entered, she had her purple helmet with small devil horns still on her head with the visor flipped up and her hair was messy from the short motorcycle ride.

"Zoe's been here." She said, she sounded annoyed to be called in on her day off.

"How'd you get here so fast?" Morgan asked.

"It's called a motorcycle, Grandma Morgan." She sassed. "Come on, get in your little scooter and let's go."

"What's the rush?" Morgan asked.

"Well, there was evidence on the scene that could cause a bit of public uproar." Hotch said.

"Satanic cult." Alexander said, "Your specialty, Zoe."

Zoe smiled but it was full of bitter sarcasm rather than actual mirth or even her usual deadpan sarcasm.

They started to disperse, except for Zoe who finally took her helmet off and was fixing her hair and Spencer who stared at her, while shifting his weight on his heels slightly as one does when extremely socially awkward and preparing to talk to their crush who was rather intimidating.

Morgan gave him a gentle push and went to speak to Gideon and Hotch.

Spencer took a few moments to gather his courage before going over to Zoe.

"About this specialty in Satanism?" Spencer asked Zoe.

"It's nothing." She said, coldly. "It's none of your business."

Spencer blinked at her tone, it was even colder than the tone she had been using towards him since the train incident.

"I just... I thought we were friends."

"We're work friends, Reid. There's a difference." She said and he flinched at her calling him by his surname.

She was peeved at the way he described Bryar as a "delusional psychotic", not being anywhere close to stable herself. She was so determined to find a reason to hate Spencer to push him away. Communication had never been her strong point.

"Oh." Spencer said, more hurt than he wanted to admit. "Well, I'm sorry for the misunderstanding." He got up and walked to the other side of the plane.

———————————————————————————

Sir Peter Ustinov said, "Unfortunately, a superabundance of dreams is paid for by a growing potential for nightmares."

Hotch placed a photo in front of JJ as he addressed her, "JJ, we need to obviously keep this out of the press for as long as possible."

"I'll do what I can."

"Why is that so important?" Elle asked.

"There was a nationwide scare in the nineteen-eighties involving Satanic ritual killings and abuse. The 'Satanic Panic,' it was called. It began after the publication of a book about repressed memories being recovered through hypnotherapy. Memories of growing up with devil worshippers who used children in their rituals and ceremonies." Spencer explained, with not as much enthusiasm as usual.

"Most of the claims were later found to be false or just impossible." Zoe added, without looking up at her file.

"Still, numerous therapists accepted the assertions as true and began searching for similar signs in their own patients. After one year, thousands of people reported the exact same 'repressed' memories."

"But the Bureau conducted an investigation and concluded that most of the ritual killings or abuse were more urban legend than anything else." Alexander said.

"You're saying that there's no such thing as devil worshipping?" Elle asked.

Zoe had a sardonic snorting scoff sound.

"Not at all." Gideon said, ignoring Zoe. "But most of the Satanism we've seen is juveniles damaging property, desecrating churches, cemeteries. To my knowledge, there's never been a proven case of a Satanic ritual killing in the United States."

"Well, maybe there is now." Morgan said, looking at the picture of the scene with the skeleton.

———————————————————————————

Gideon, Spencer, JJ, Zoe, and Alexander arrived at the scene. Zoe met quite a few Satanists in those eight months, now the cult that had formed around her hadn’t been explicitly Satanist, in fact, a large part of them were like so many UnSubs and twisting the word of God to suit their own agenda so much that it was essentially Satanism. But Zoe hadn’t gotten a lot of chances to see or at least, she had no memories of seeing anything.

There was a tilted pentagram and under it written into the tree with red was: Satan Lives LOD

"It does look like a ritual site." Alexander said.

"Eh." Zoe shrugged.

"What's that mean?" Alexander asked his daughter.

"There's... something off about it. I can't tell what though." She said, staring at the star.

"Morning! John Bridges." The sheriff introduced himself to JJ.

"Hi. Yeah, we spoke on the phone." JJ said, I'm Agent Jareau, this is Agent Gideon, Agent Noble, Doctor Reid, and Doctor Noble-Valdez with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"Thanks for coming out so fast." Bridges said.

"Yeah, of course."

"There was an in-service in Charlottesville last year. Said if we ran into any unusual homicides we were supposed to call you folks." Bridges told them, "Sooner rather than later."

"Yeah, they were right." Gideon said.

"So, is this unusual enough?" Bridges asked.

"It certainly is interesting." Spencer said.

"You guys must get a lot of this, huh? Satanic stuff?" Bridges asked.

"Not really." Gideon said.

"Some more than others." Zoe said, she still hadn't looked away from the pentagram.

"What does that mean?" Spencer asked her but was ignored

"Who found the body?" Alexander asked.

"Hiker found the first one at the trail." Bridges replied, " "My deputies located this one while searching for evidence. Don't even know if it's a man or a woman." Bridges said and Zoe finally looked down at the skeleton where Spencer was using a stick to lift the clothing covering the pelvis.

"It's a man." Zoe and Spencer said.

"Male pelvis is more narrow and the opening at the bottom is heart-shaped as opposed to oval." Spencer explained.

"I'd say this guy died about a year ago. He decayed much quicker due to the elements. Animals. Bugs." Zoe added.

Spencer poked the wax with the stick, "Melted wax?"

"Candle wax?"

"Candles are used in rituals." Spencer said.

"Also used on birthday cakes." Gideon said.

"Actually, they were originally used to protect the birthday celebrant from demons for the coming year. As a matter of fact, down to the fourth century, Christianity rejected the birthday celebration as a Pagan ritual." Spencer said.

"What kind of doctor are you?" Bridges asked.

"He has three PhDs, he's kind of our go-to guy on... everything. I'm the medical doctor." Zoe said.

"Does 'L.O.D.' mean anything to you two?" Gideon asked Spencer and Zoe. Zoe was still staring at the star

"Mmm-mmm." Spencer said, "I don't know of any significance in Satanism either."

"Zoe?"

"Never heard of it before." She said

"Well, I'd have Garcia research this L.O.D. thing if I could get a call out." JJ said, trying to get a signal.

"Not much of a chance of that out here." Bridges said.

"Are there any cults in the area that you know about?" Alexander asked.

"Secret groups? People you see you don't know much about? People who stay to themselves mostly?" Gideon added.

"This is a very religious area. Church on Sundays, fellowship on Wednesday, Bible classes." Bridges said, "If there was a secret group I'd probably know about it.

"That's an inherent contradiction." Spencer chuckled.

"Excuse me?" Bridges asked.

"He means, if there was a group being secretive, you probably wouldn't know." Zoe clarified.

"Look, people out here just want a quiet place to raise their kids." Bridges said, "What I know is none of them are capable of doing this."

———————————————————————————

Zoe climbed up the steep hill with little problem while Gideon, Alexander, JJ, and Spencer struggled.

"Find anything interesting down there?" Hotch asked them.

"Yeah, it does look like some kind of ritual site." Gideon said, helping JJ up the hill and leaving Alexander and Spencer while Zoe helped Alexander and then Spencer with a somewhat steely look.

"Have any of you ever heard the expression 'Lod'? Or the acronym 'L.O.D.'?" Spencer asked.

Morgan shook his head and Elle said, "Not me."

Suddenly a woman started shouting, "Cherish? Cherish!" An officer stopped her, "Sheriff Bridges!" She shouted when she saw him.

"It's okay, Harris. Let her in." Bridges said.

"Was Adam Lloyd killed out here?" She asked, ducking under the police tape.

"Who told you that, Veronica?" He asked.

"Was he? My daughter was with him! They went out running together this morning." The woman cried, "Oh, my God, I can't find her. Cherish is missing! Cherish is missing! Help me, please!"

———————————————————————————

The officers took Veronica home once she had calmed down a little, as much as she could given the situation. Morgan and Elle had gone to scout the area.

Gideon approached the team, "We're looking for someone who can overpower a victim. Abduct a girl from a traveled path without being seen."

"Certainly fits with the cult theory." Spencer said, "More than one UnSub to control multiple victims."

"But if the attack were ferocious enough, a single UnSub could, too." Zoe pointed out, "Kill Adam and grab the girl while she's in shock.

Morgan and Elle came back, panting slightly.

"This is some rough country. We only went a quarter of a mile and we almost got lost." Elle said.

"The UnSub has to be from this area. You don't just stumble onto a place like this." Morgan said.

"JJ, where did the Sheriff go?" Gideon asked.

JJ looked up from her phone, still trying to get ahold of Garcia. "He's setting up a search party."

"Tell him we want him to use volunteers from the area. Locals." Gideon said.

"Do you want him to know why?" JJ asked.

"No, not yet."

"Is it wise to alienate him?" Hotch asked.

"Well, he thinks we're looking for a monster. If we tell him we're looking for volunteers so we can profile who shows up, he might call the whole thing off." Gideon pointed out.

Zoe, Alexander, and Spencer soon followed after JJ as Bridges was about to get into his car.

"Hey! Can we come with you guys?" Spencer asked, running oddly like he always did again, "I need to call Quantico and have them research that whole L.O.D. thing."

"I'd like to help spread word about the search party and maybe speak to some of Cherish's friends if they come?" Zoe said. She usually took her motorcycle but she left it at the police station. "I can also help make a geographic map of the area for the search party and assign certain clothing to make it easier to move through the area."

"Yeah, sure. Hop in." Bridges said.

———————————————————————————

They arrived at the police station and a man asked Bridges, "What's happened, John?"

"Reverend Paul Burke, this is..." Bridges stepped next to the man to look and introduce the agents. "I'm sorry, I forgot your names."

"I'm Agent Jareau. This is Agent Noble, Doctor Reid and Doctor Noble-Valdez." JJ introduced.

"Everyone calls me Zoe." Zoe said.

"They're with the FBI." Bridges said.

"FBI?" Burke asked. "It's true, then? Adam's dead?"

"Cherish Hanson is missing, too." Bridges said.

"Is there anything I can do?" Burke asked.

"Actually, yes. We're putting together a search party. Could you call the congregation?" Bridges asked.

"Of course. Of course, I'll go make some calls." Burke said and headed off to do so.

"Thanks, Reverend. This way." Bridges said and he escorted the four agents into

You can use any phone, Doctor Reid. Just dial nine to get an outside line. I've got an emergency phone list back here in my office." Bridges said and turned to Zoe, "I'll get you some maps, Doctor Noble-Valdez."

"Please, just Zoe, it's less wordy." Zoe said, "thank you."

Zoe took out her phone, finally able to get some service, checking to see if she missed any texts.

"Did you play ball?" Asked a voice and Zoe turned to see Spencer checking out a football.

Spencer let out a scoff-laugh at the idea of him ever playing football. "No."

"Yeah, I probably wouldn't have either if not for my father."

"Oh, yeah, I get that." Zoe joined in and she smiled, "Zoe Noble-Valdez."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Cory."

He turned to Spencer as he introduced himself. "Spencer Reid."

He looked at Cory's books, "Who's that, Nietzsche? 'Thus spake zarathustra' was rather antagonistic of the Judeo-Christian world view for this town, isn't it?"

"I don't think too many people here would've bothered to read it." Cory said, "if they had, they wouldn't have bothered to read it. Might as well be a Hawking essay on Quark Theory."

Both Spencer and Zoe got the reference and chuckled.

"Yeah, well people don't like to be told that heaven's not real or really debate the basis of good and evil or live up to his recommendations." She held out a finger with each view of the philosopher, "Own up the envy, don't be a Christian, never drink alcohol and God is dead. People like to live in bliss ignorance."

Cory was impressed and so was Spencer but he didn't show it, only with a slight smile.

"Hey, nobody's ever got that reference before or known really anything about Nietzsche."

“Yeah, well, when most kids were having their parents read them bedtime stories, my dad read me philosophy and grisly crime cases.” Zoe said and then she reconsidered. All three of her father figures (Alexander, Gideon and Rossi) had started out with normal bedtime story books, well for genius twins, they had only briefly done the thick children's books that were made of some kind of board so they wouldn’t be easily ripped by the pudgy hands of developing babies and children, before going to chapter books, the favorites being “Well, Uncle David did and I annoyed my dad into doing so.“

"Is my father around? The sheriff?"

"He's in his office with another agent." Spencer gestured the football in the direction behind his shoulder.

"Agent?" Cory asked.

"Yeah, we're with the FBI." Spencer said.

"The BAU. Behavioral Analysis Unit." Zoe added.

"Profilers." He said, slightly surprised.

"Yep. Runs in my family. My dad's with your dad, he's a profiler too."

"This is mad cool. I got like a hundred questions I go..." A thought suddenly occurred to him. "Wait, why would FBI profilers be here in McAllister?"

"There was a murder and a kidnapping outside of town on the mountain." Zoe said.

"A murder and a kidnapping?"

"It's Cherish, son." Bridges said from behind Spencer.

"Cherish Hanson?" Cory asked.

"We're putting together a search party. I need you to get the rest of the team together and meet us out at the trail about a half mile south of the Point."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Cory, do you mind if I ask you who Cherish's friends were?" Zoe stepped up to ask, "So I can inform them of the search party?"

———————————————————————————

Later Zoe departed in the group assigned to her and JJ and Alexander went back to the station to talk to Garcia about the background check on the volunteers.

"Man, this is one Peyton Place of a town. Most everyone lives well above the median income of the country. You have doctors, lawyers... One guy owns a bunch of shoe stores up and down the Eastern Seaboard." Garcia said.

"Is he married?" JJ chuckled.

"Yeah. Story of my life, sunshine. Reverend Paul Burke. Looks like he became born-again in prison."

"Prison?" JJ asked.

Reverend Burke was in Spencer's group.

"Yeah. Two years as the guest of State of Ohio for embezzlement."

"Inmates converting happens more often than you think. Zelena did a paper on it." Alexander said.

"I'm seeing a lot of tax sheltering and various hanky-panky here, but I'm not sure what would suggest potential Satanic cult members." Garcia said. "Hold on."

"What, you got something?" Alexander asked.

"Yeah, I got a guy with a ton of debt. Spotty work history. His house is in foreclosure. He's got a record, too. Assault with a deadly weapon three years ago."

"Wait, does it say what the weapon was?" Alexander asked.

"Baseball bat."

"Our UnSub used a blunt object." JJ said.

"Bats are blunt, aren't they?"

"What's this guy's name?" JJ asked.

"Dent. Henry Dent.

"Okay, here he is." JJ found him on the list. "Grid B-5." She looked on the map. "That puts him with... Zoe."

"I'm sorry, are you telling me that my daughter who was kidnapped by Satanists is with potentially the satanic murderer."

"Zoe was kidnapped by Satanists!?"

——————————————————————————

Zoe walked along the forest floor, she was wearing purple mid-calf hiking boots. She bent down to readjust the knife sheath hidden in her boot when Henry Dent approached Zoe and reached hand out.

"You all right?"

Zoe had sensed his presence and hadn't flinched.

"Yeah," She stood up, "I was readjusting my boot."

"My name's Henry." He smiled.

"Zoe." Zoe introduced. "Short for Xiomara."

"That's a different kind of name."

"It's Spanish. It means battle or inner beauty or most beautiful star in the universe. And my mom and her sister had ‘Z’ names.”

"You're with the FBI, right?"

"Yep. I know I seem young and well, I am, Doctor Reid and I, but we're geniuses."

"That must be exciting. Being in the FBI."

"Yeah, my mother and father were FBI, all my mom's side is in law enforcement, just about.” Yeah, the sides are criminals or in mental hospitals. “A legacy." Still she had a hint of pride in her tone.

"It's dangerous too."

"That's why I like it, that and the good I get to do."

"I mean, you have to go after killers and things. Bad guys. You ever have to shoot..."

"Hold on a minute, I see something." She said with her gloved hand took down a bloody letter and read it, 'Satan commands the virgin be sacrificed at the next full moon'."

"That's tonight, isn't it?" Henry asked and pointed at the red on the letter, "what's that?"

"Blood."

———————————————————————————

That was all they found from the search and went back to the police station. Spencer yawned, still a bit tired from the nightmares, as they prepared the profile.

"Tired?" Hotch asked.

"I'm fine." Spencer lied.

"We all get them sometimes." Hotch reassured him.

"Get what?" Spencer asked.

"Nightmares." Hotch said.

Spencer looked at him and then he glared a mistrustful look at Morgan who was on the phone and he looked back at the profile, his guards up and slightly embarrassed.

"It's not that bad." Spencer dismissed.

"If you want to talk about it, you know where I am." Hotch told him, patting his arm.

"They're ready." JJ said.

Hotch went to the front to address the room, "Contrary to popular belief, there has never been a proven case of Satanic ritual killing. Never a verified human sacrifice. Having said that, there have been isolated cases of animal sacrifice. And many, many cases of vandalism in the name of Satan."

"Now, that doesn't mean that ritual Satanism is impossible." Morgan said, "And, more importantly for our purposes, there have been cults that killed. Just not in ritual fashion."

"The Reverend Jim Jones and the Peoples Temple." Spencer said and he took Hotch's place in front of the room, "His followers killed a U.S. Congressman and three people before committing mass suicide, leaving over nine hundred people dead. And perhaps the most widely known of the killer cults, the Manson Family, under the direction of Charles Manson, killed nine people in a four-day period in an attempt to initiate a race war."

"Killer cults do exist. And they all have one thing in common." Elle said, "Invariably, they're headed by charismatic megalomaniacs."

"You're looking for that leader. He's who will stand out. He'll be memorable to somebody. People who aren't in his group will see him as strange, weird, scary." Spencer said.

Hotch stepped next to Spencer, "Since we're dealing with professed Satanists, which is often practiced by younger males, we may be looking for teenagers. Heavy metal music is often associated with Satanism, and these kids and their leader may reflect that in their look."

"Most likely there'll be sex, drugs and alcohol." Morgan said. "Now, the leader, he'll be older. It's part of his charm.

"And he is from this area." Hotch confirmed and Bridges looked up. "He's definitely local."

"These woods are too thick and confusing for a visitor to get around in." Elle explained.

"You think one of our own people is doing this?" Bridges asked.

"We're sure of it." Hotch confirmed.

"I would know if someone was capable..." Bridges said.

"Dad? I know somebody like that." Cory interrupted.

Bridges brought the team and Cory to his office for Cory to tell them who it was.

"His name is Mike Zizzo. He graduated about five years ago. He's in his twenties, but he still hangs out with high school kids. He's got a group of them. They follow him everywhere. They all get high and listen to heavy metal. He calls them 'The Lords of Destruction'."

"L.O.D." Spencer said.

"How do you know this, Cory?" Bridges asked his son, Cory hesitated, looking down, "It's all right, son."

"I've been there. Where they hang out. Drinking beers. He talks about Satan all the time. Says he's the one true God." Cory said.

"Where is this place?" Gideon asked.

"On the other side of the mountain. The old Jenson house." Cory said.

"It's out of my jurisdiction." Bridges said.

"Not ours." Zoe said, standing up, flipping her hair so it slapped Spencer in the face and waltzed out.

Alexander gave Spencer a look like, good luck with that, as he passed him.

———————————————————————————

Zoe insisted on going on the raid while Alexander argued the whole time. Gideon had seen a girl watching and passed on the raid to talk to her.

They pulled up to the place where loud heavy metal music played.

"Ugh, what is that noise?" Zoe groaned, covering her ears. Zoe was a fan of rock music but not this kind of music where it sounded like the singer was yelling rather than screaming.

The front door was unlocked and it seemed like this was more of a beads place. Morgan entered the room first shouting, "FBI! DON'T MOVE!"

"Chill out, man!" A girl shouted. She had a point.

"McAllister County Sheriff's Department." Bridges shouted.

"Where's Zizzo!?" Morgan grabbed someone, pointing his gun at him, "Where's Zizzo?"

"Morgan!" Zoe shouted, pushing his gun down, "Chill the hell out! Excuse me, where's Zizzo!?"

Someone pointed and Zoe moved past another beads thing and found Zizzo standing with his arms extended in front of a correctly painted pentagram. Zoe's first impression was that Zizzo did not scream maliciousness but more rebelliousness.

They arrested Zizzo and Zoe's eyes landed on the symbols drawn on the wall. she had no violent reaction until her eyes landed on an eye symbol. Flashes appeared behind her eyes and she shook her head, looking down. She breathed sharply and headed out of the house.

———————————————————————————

Zizzo was in the interrogation room with Hotch, Elle, Zoe, Alexander, and Bridges.

"Is someone going to tell me why I'm here or are we just going to play staring games all night?" Zizzo asked.

"This was found where Cherish Hanson went missing." Hotch said, take the baggie with the note out.

"No wonder everyone's all freaked out. McAllister's perfect debutante is in trouble." Zizzo snarked as Hotch slid it in front of him.

"Read the note." Elle said.

He sighed and picked it up and read it and he chuckled, softly.

"You think someone threatening to kill this girl is funny?" Hotch asked.

"No. I think someone calling Cherish Hanson a virgin is funny." He corrected.

"You a Satanist, Mike?" Bridges asked.

"Sure."

"You worship the devil?" Bridges asked.

"You even know what Satanism is?" Mike asked him.

"Educate us." Hotch said.

“The word Satan comes from ancient Hebrew. It just means 'opposer’ Satan opposes the hypocritical morals and dogma of the so-called Holy Church and its followers. If you grew up in this town with God shoved down your throat every day, you’d oppose it, too.” He said. He had a point, some Satanists didn’t even believe that the devil was an actual being but take on the title as an ideal choice when confronting Chruch versus State sides. Their religion is largely focused on secular humanism and hedonism. “It’s all hypocrisy. Do this, don’t do that, and all the time the adults are the ones screwing up. So basically, we’re just atheists. Aggressively atheist.”

Elle placed the photos of Adam's body, the skeleton, and the "Satan Lives L.O.D." down in front of him.

"How aggressive, Mike?" Elle asked.

Zoe examined his face, there was evident horror in his eyes at seeing the pictures of Adam's body and the Satanism of it.

"What the hell is this?" Zizzo asked.

"Why don't you tell us, Mike?" Hotch asked.

Zizzo looked up, looking properly scared, he looked around, realizing why he was there. "I've never seen this before."

"Pentagram, body, candles, L.O.D." Elle pointed as if that wasn't already obvious.

"Lords of Destruction." Bridges said.

"I've never seen this." He repeated.

"From where I stand, Mike, it looks like you signed it." Hotch said.

"Look, we draw stars upside down, get drunk and listen to metal." He insisted. "That's it. Okay? We don't kill people."

"This is your chance to make this right, Zizzo." Bridges said.

"You don't want to make it right." Zizzo snapped, " You want to blame someone who doesn't conform to your view of how people should act and think."

———————————————————————————

"I've got to give the Sheriff a report. I'll be back as soon as I can. You guys need anything?" Deputy Harris said to Morgan and Spencer who were watching by the house.

"Coffee would be nice." Spencer said.

"He takes about a quart of sugar in it." Morgan joked.

"Two teaspoons is fine.

"You got it."

"Uh, and Zoe—Doctor Noble-Valdez—should be coming soon. She'll take a hot chocolate if it's not too much trouble." Spencer said, even when she was upset with him, he was considerate towards her.

While some studies stated that sugar was bad for ADHD, the overall research is inconclusive. Despite society's popular belief sugar DOES NOT cause ADHD (neither does bad parenting or video games or any other the other things not supported by, you know, research). Also a lot of research for ADHD were on children rather than adults and many studies rely on information from questionnaires given to parents or caretakers of kids with ADHD rather than direct observation or interviews with kids with ADHD.

Zoe however seemed to feel that sugar helped her think, which made sense since sugar intake can increase norepinephrine or noradrenaline which people with ADHD tended to have a lesser amount of than those without ADHD (along with dopamine). Norepinephrine affects alertness, affective arousal (which is a state of being activated, feeling awake, and highly reactive to stimuli), and attention. Her personal preference was hot chocolate.

Then as Deputy Harris drove off, Spencer went to confront Morgan, "Morgan, you knew I didn't want you to tell Hotch about my nightmares."

"Reid, that's something they need to know about." Morgan said, calmly.

"What do you mean 'they'?" Spencer demanded.

"Hotch, Gideon, Alexander, and Zoe."

"You told Gideon, Mister Noble, and Zoe too!?"

"It's okay, kid."

"What if they think I can't do this job? What if they want to pull me off the team? Zoe's already pissed at me for something I have no idea about!"

"They won't." Morgan reassured him.

"Oh, yeah? How do you know that?" Spencer demanded.

"I just do."

"You had no right, man. I-I confided in you. This is—you know, this is exactly what I get when I trust someone. It gets thrown back in my face."

"Mine started six months after I got into the BAU." Morgan told him. "Yeah. Mine." He stepped to the car and leaned back on it. "We were working a strangler case in Montana. Four victims. Me? I was still pretty young at the time. So, you know, I was feeling myself. I was cocky. I was arrogant. The locals, they didn't have anything, so I stepped up. I said, 'I can nail down a profile for you just as soon as I get what I need'."

"More victims." Spencer knew.

"She was found the next day. So I went down to the scene to do my thing. And as I was looking over the body,that's when I saw them. Her eyes, Reid. They were wide-open. And there was something different about them. It was like they were looking right at me. Like she knew. I asked for a victim. Well, here she was. That's when they started for me. Night after night I would fall asleep and I would see those eyes. They were dead eyes, accusing eyes. And it got to the point where it was happening even when I wasn't asleep. Reid, everywhere I went, I saw those eyes."

"What did you do?" Spencer asked.

"Gideon. He knew. I didn't tell him. I was like you. I didn't want anybody to know. He just... He knew. And he sat me down and he... He just kind of talked me through it. I still have the nightmares to this day. Just not nearly as often. But when they come back I know how to handle them better."

"What did he say?"

"I think you need to talk to him first." Morgan said. It was silent for a moment before Morgan spoke in a teasing voice, "So lady trouble with Zoe, huh?"

"Shut up." Spencer groaned, throwing his head back as he blushed, furiously, "Zoe isn't... she's not my type."

"Uh, no, she's exactly your type. She's beautiful, she's a genius, she's funny." Morgan corrected. Spencer looked at him. "Not my type and she's literally told me she'd rather be 'serial killed' than date me."

"She's my boss' daughter, not only that, he's extremely overprotective of her. You saw how he was when she was held captive.”

"She's your best friend."

"Yeah, well I'm not hers. We're just work friends." Spencer said, sharply, "She told me so herself."

"Reid, how much do you know about women?" Spencer opened his mouth and Morgan interrupted, "not statistics but being around women."

"Practically nothing." Spencer said, bluntly.

"Word of advice, women are never direct. Especially Zoe. She's stubborn and traumatized and she thinks she’s cursed or something and runs from her feelings. Not only that she jumps out of windows to avoid them like fire. Alexander’s sworn she’s done that before. You just need to talk to her and break through that mean thing she does."

Some lights lit up the area and Zoe's MTT Y2K pulled up and she got off it, "So, any sign of her."

"What are you doing here?"

"Dad was being fussy." She said.

"Get anything out of Zizzo?" Morgan asked.

Zoe opened her mouth but then a green car pulled up.

It was Cory. "Did you find her? Cherish?"

"No."

"Did Zizzo say anthing?"

"Uh, just that he's more of an atheist. Satanism is more refusal to conform but I don't think he's the UnSub. But when he saw the photos, he looked genuinely horrified. I don't think he did it. It seems like someone's trying to frame him." Zoe replied.

"No. He is. He has to be." Cory said. He kept pacing around.

"Cory, calm down." Spencer said.

"How am I supposed to calm down? Cherish is missing. Did you check all over?" Cory asked.

"We searched the whole house." Spencer confirmed.

"There's not a lot to hide in there, there's only one door in the whole place." Zoe said.

"What about the outbuilding?" Cory asked.

"Outbuilding?" Morgan asked.

"Did you check the other area? Back in the woods?" Cory asked.

"No one told us there was another area." Zoe said.

Yeah, it's like a sluice structure or something." Cory said, "He took me there once. It's this way." And he started to move further into the woods and the three agents followed him.

"It's up here." They came upon a building that was far from structurely sound, "This is their secret place."

Morgan and Zoe shined their flashlights until Zoe's landed on the door, revealing another pentagram with "LOD" written under it.

"Guys." She said.

She looked at the others and they nodded. She stepped towards it

"Is it structurally sound?" Spencer asked.

"Uh," Zoe said and she bent to the side to look under the house and Spencer's cheek burned a little before she brought herself back up. "Doesn't look like it but I'm the lightest person here. I'll try not to be murdered."

She entered the building, the floorboards creaking under her weight.

"I can't believe this is happening. This kind of thing, it doesn't happen in McAllister." Cory said to Spencer.

"You said you read the profiling books. You know bad things happen anywhere. Anywhere at any time."

Zoe was engulfed in darkness but she didn't sense anyone in her surrounding and she was pretty good at that. Her flashlight hit the back of the room and lit up a pair of white running shoes, her light shone on the brown leggings attached to it until it hit the paled skin of a hand splattered with blood, another hand and arm, showing more blood and then her beam of light reached Cherish Hanson's face, her unseeing eyes, her neck splattered with blood, blood had trickled out of her house, and the source of the blood was a head wound.

"Morgan! Get in here!" She shouted.

When Morgan entered, Zoe was mchecking Cherish's pulse, not necessarily looking for a pulse but feeling her temperature.

Zoe exited the building, hesitantly behind Morgan.

"She in there? Is she alright?" Cory asked.

"Cory..." Spencer said.

"She's in there." Morgan said.

"Is she dead? She can't be dead."

"It wasn't Zizzo." Zoe said.

"What? Of course, it was." Cory said.

"A body takes twelve hours to feel cool to the touch after death and twenty-four hours to cool to its core. This body is barely cool. She's been dead for barley twelve hours and witnesses place Zizzo in his crackhouse passed out from the drugs and alcohol the night before" Zoe said.

"That's impossible. Maybe you're wrong. Shouldn't we get an actual medical examiner?" Cory insisted.

"I'm a medical doctor. I am an actual medical examiner." Zoe said, slightly offended and Cory, seeing the way she narrowed her eyes at him, backed off.

Morgan had walked past them, trying to call Hotch but getting no signal. "Reid, Zoe. I want you two to go to the house and see if the deputies have come back."

"What?"

"We need the Sheriff and the crime scene team here." Morgan said.

"But..."

"Reid. Do it. And fix whatever's goin' on between you two." Morgan said.

"Morgan!" Spencer hissed, blushing.

Zoe slowly turned away from the building, she had been staring at the star on the door.

———————————————————————————

Spencer and Zoe walked through the woods in relative silence. When Morgan told Zoe about Spencer's nightmares, she went over all she knew about Spencer and came to a conclusion she had overlooked the past week and realized she wasn't being fair to him.

"I'm sorry, you're having nightmares." She said.

"I didn't want Morgan to tell you."

"I know. You're stubborn and clearly scared of what your mind can conjure. And I'm sorry for acting like a bitch."

"I-I wouldn't call it that." He stammered.

"Yeah, you don't curse a lot or ever."

"Why? Why were you hating me?"

"I misunderstood you. When you called Bryar a delusional psychotic. I hate that term. I thought you were like Morgan. Morgan can be aggressive towards our UnSubs and a lot of them, it's not their fault. I thought that's how you see them... but there's a reason I can understand them so well."

"Zoe, you're not delusional or a psychotic."

"Yeah, you say that now." She looked down.

"Zoe, you can tell me anything." Spencer said, softly.

“Spence, did you know that babies can start dreaming as early as to up to two weeks? Studies say they can have nightmares as early as four to six months, but I know different. I was almost two months old when I started having them. The doctors said it was unlikely because they require an imagination and rational fear but… I was never like other babies. I was always more advanced and not always for the better. As genius as Zarah turned out to be, I was always described as being noticeably advanced beyond her. I would wake up screaming but after a while I realized I was bothering Zarah and Dad so I stopped, I think I was about five or six months old, again rather early for a baby to develop empathy. So when I’d wake up, I’d just lay there, silently crying but sometimes not so silently.”

“Do-do you know what the nightmares were?”

"Yes. I remember having nightmares of Mom. I had PTSD and I hadn’t even been born for the thing that traumatized me. I can still hear her voice from the womb, my memory of it. Not her last moments but her begging. Not for her to live but for me to. But one day when I was about eight months old, Gideon’s son had woke up Gideon and told him that I was crying and Gideon talked to me like I wasn’t a baby. Like I was just a person. He talked to me about my mom and whenever I would have a nightmare about my mom, I’d wake up or call Gideon, Rossi, or Dad… until I stopped.”

“Why’d you stop?”

Zoe hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “Things happened that I couldn’t talk to people about. I could talk about it to Dad but he blames himself for what happened and besides, I don’t know what happened but it still traumatized me."

"I'm sorry. My nightmares they used to be occasionally, now I seem to have them every night."

"Yeah, but at least, you only see them when you're sleeping. I see mine even when I'm awake. Perks of having C-PTSD your whole life. Just because I don't remember what happened those five days when I was twelve, doesn't mean I don't have trauma for it and then I was missing for eight months and... the cult that formed around me, it... it wasn't strictly Satanic but their methods were very similar, brutality wise. There wasn't a leader like most cults, it was like a mix of all of them centered around me but they did do Satanic cult things, the bad kind, so it was categorized as it, based off my memory."

"Zoe... what happened?"

"Do you... do you know what a headbox is?"

"Oh God..." Spencer breathed.

Of course, he knew what a headbox was. Colleen Stan had been a twenty-year-old hitchhiker and the last victim of the couple Janice and Cameron Hooker—Cameron Hooker had been an unclassified killer, a ephebophile, and a serial rapist who kept Colleen as a sex slave for seven years keeping a twenty-pound headbox on her while Janice had mostly been an accomplice. "I rarely got to see the people, I only heard their voices and... it enhanced my other senses and I had to make a world in my head. You know, the memory technique, method of loci, the mind palace technique. I did that by imagining people to help me get through it. I filled in the blanks that my vision wasn't seeing. And it stuck with me just as much as the nightmares have."

Spencer got an idea of what she was hinting at. That she could see things. That she could see hallucinations as a possible a part of her PTSD.

“You know schizophrenia’s not as genetic as people think.” She said suddenly.

“What?” Spencer’s voice cracked. Did she know? How did she know?”

“Only six percent of children of schizophrenic parents develop it. And some research says there's only a ten to fifteen percent chance of them getting it despite others saying there's a ninety percent change because we just don't know enough about the inherence pattern."

“Why-why are you saying this?”

“No reason. I’m a doctor with trauma hallucinations and ADHD and cyclothymia. Who know why I could be talking about something or other?” She shrugged. "And can you do me a favor? One day will you tell me about your past?"

"I... Zoe..."

"I know. It's not easy but it's not easy for me to tell someone about my past. I'm here for you. Let me know that you know it. Talking about my sister, about Zarah's it's not easy but you make it a little better. A little easier. I have another best friend again, I didn't think I'd ever have that again and I’m not trying to replace Zarah with you, she's still alive, I know she is."

"I believe you." He said, softly.

"But you, I don't know, give me hope because she's as smart as you are and I know she can get through that hell..."

"You did."

"She's not me. I-I was weak. I am weak. I couldn't protect her."

"You're not weak. You're far from weak. You're the strongest person I know. It's not your job to protect her or me." Spencer said, "We protect each other, because we're a family. I know you've only really known me for eight months but... honestly, you're more family to me than my dad ever was. Can I ask you a question?"

She hummed in confirmation.

"Why… why did you feel the need to protect Zarah and do feel the need to protect me?”

“My mom was kidnapped by an axe-wielding maniac after she gave birth to Zarah but not to me. She wasn’t locked up or chained up or tied up. She could’ve gotten out but it would’ve risked my life. At the least, that’s the best we can predict. She died moments after my dad found her. I killed her.”

“No, Zoe…”

“Yes, I did. I killed her and they had to do a post-mortem c-section before I died in her body. I’m the reason Zarah and I don’t have a mother. The reason my dad’s alone. The reason he had to raise his perfectly normal if slightly ADHD eldest twin daughter and his rebellious little monster with ADHD and Cyclothymia who couldn’t sit still or listen or focus on one thing and heard hallucinations.”

“Zoe!” Spencer shouted, grasping her shoulders, “No. You did not kill her. She chose to do what any good mother should do. She chose to give her life for yours and… you help me too. I’ve never really had a best friend before, well, there was Ethan but he dropped out of the FBI academy, I’ve never had anyone be as smart as me. My whole life… being the smartest kid in the room is like being… being the only kid in class. Everyone just looks at you like you’re another species but not you. Even if you refuse to take any IQ tests, you remind me, I’m not alone. I’m not the only kid in the class anymore. I’m not fighting in the world by myself anymore.”

“You know, when I was a kid, no one understood me, Zarah didn't have it as bad. Her's was more the typical internal symptoms for girls with ADHD while mine was a bit external. Dad, I didn't want to bother him, I didn't want to distract him from helping someone who needed it more than me, he already brought us along to towns with rapists and murderers and kidnappers and that…that didn’t always end too well. My mom’s family… there’s some mental health history there but they either hate me for killing my mom, would kill anyone for making me think I was less than, criminals, worse off mentally-wise, or refuse to understand how much of a toll, ADHD and Cyclothymia has on me. I longed for someone who is as sympathetic and empathetic and understanding as you are, Spence. You... I feel as long as there's people like you in the world, Zarah will be all right, one day."

"And we're going to find her." He reassured, warmth spreading within him. "I..." He pulled out a small notebook, "I've been writing down everything I've learned about those guys who had you, I've been trying to find any signs of them through America, where Zarah is. I just learned today that brutality equal to Satanism was involved so... I'll cross-match that when we get back home... I-I... Zoe..."

Zoe was hugging him and he felt his heart pound and despite the cold November night air his face burned and he felt warm inside as he hugged back. Then she suddenly pulled back, looking down, looking a bit embarrassed.

"I-I'm sorry. Sometimes it feels like I'm the only one still looking." She suddenly looked up, "Mars is bright tonight." He didn't get the Harry Potter reference. "You need to read more fiction books. Zarah and I used to stargaze. I continued to do so after she..." She sighed.

"What?" Spencer asked.

"The pentagram's wrong again." Zoe said.

"What do you mean?"

"First of all, the pentagram was originally used in ancient China and Japan to symbolize the five elements of life: fire, Earth, metal, water, and wood as they were believed to have magical properties. Then Christians used it as a representation of the Star of Bethelhem which represented harmony, peace, and health. And now it represents Satanism and Pegan witchcraft, but no real Satanist would draw it this way. Uh, Zizzo, he referred to God being shoved down your throat in this town, and Neitzsche, he didn't believe in God, he was an actual atheist and so is Zizzo, that's why he has the pentagram in his house because he doesn't know it's not an actually Satanic symbol,”

"His works have been associated with Satanism due to his beliefs." Spencer recalled.

"Cory's been sort of, butting himself into this crime. He keeps being right. Could be too much of a coincidence. Cory did it. Come on."

Spencer and Zoe came back and saw the scene between Cory and Morgan.

"You also knew about Zizzo and the Satanism."

"I was only trying to help."

"Well, you did that. We couldn't have found this place without you

Spencer moved forwards to intercept before Zoe could stop him.

"Hey Morgan, no one's up there." Spencer said, coming back to the now tense and confrontational scene.

"Get over here!" Cory growled and pulled Spencer to him, holding a gun to his head.

"Reid! Reid!" Morgan cried out, taking out his gun and pointing it at Cory.

"Don't move!" Cory told Spencer.

"Cory!"

"This got all messed up." Cory stated the obvious.

"Don't be stupid." Morgan said calmly.

"She wasn't supposed to be with him. It was his run. He runs it every day, not her!" Cory shouted.

"Cory, listen to me. We can fix this. But you've got to let Reid go."

"I never meant to hurt her. But make no mistake I will shoot your boy right now." Cory said as Zoe slowly approached him with a dark predatory look in her eyes like a predator who took thrill in the chase and the kill on the hunt. Zoe's steps were silent, quiet as a ninja's.

"No, you won't."

Cory cocked the gun. "Tempt not a desperate man. Put the gun down!"

"Okay all right. You win." Morgan said, putting his hands in a surrender while still holding the gun.

"Drop it. Drop the gun!" Cory shouted.

"Ok. Ok. You win. I'm putting the gun down. " Derek said and he dropped his gun. "You're in control, Cory. Let him go."

"For the evil is man's best force. Man must become better and eviler." Spencer blurted out.

"What?" Cory asked, understandably confused as to why Spencer was quoting Nietzsche.

"That's what this is about, right? Zarathustra? The superman? There's no moral obligation for killing someone if you're superior to them? But Nietzsche was speaking metaphorically about evolving as a species. " Spencer said, distracting Cory.

"You're just a horny kid who wanted to get rid of the cheerleader's boyfriend." Morgan spat.

"No!" Cory shouted.

"Yes!" Morgan shouted.

"That was never my intent—" Cory shouted and Spencer pushed Cory's arm away from him to escape his grip.

Zoe grabbed Cory's arm, jerking it to the side, making the gun go off harmlessly into the woods, he pressed her pointer and middle finger against his wrist, making his grip loosen and she pulled the gun away from him and she threw it on the ground after clicking the saftey on, she twisted and circled his arm until it was locked behind his back as she kneed him in the groin from behind.

Apparently in the confusion, Morgan had accidentally tackled Spencer when he thought Cory almost escaped.

"You all right?" Morgan asked as Zoe handcuffed Cory's hands behind his back.

"What happened?" Spencer asked.

"Him bringing us down here was way too much of a coincidence." Morgan explained.

"No, I got that. I mean, why'd you tackle me?" Spencer asked.

———————————————————————————

Playwright Eugène Ionesco said, "Ideologies separate us, dreams and anguish bring us together."

On the jet, Zoe was curled up in a double seat next to the window with The Handmaid's Tale open on her chest. Spencer looked at her as she slept in an observational fashion but not in a creepy way but like he was wondering if he could ever get the full story on her past or if she'd always be a puzzle to him while Gideon sat across from him.

He took out his wallet and got Spencer's attention, "Reid." He showed Spencer a picture of a blonde woman with her family. "Deborah Louise Addison. Her husband, Tim. The kids are Amber and Keith. Eight and six. 1985, Deborah Louise was walking home from school, she was abducted. She was thirteen. We profiled the UnSub and we were able to locate her before he harmed her. She writes a letter to the BAU every year. She updates us on her life."

"That's nice, but..." Spencer trailed off, still confused.

"We all have bad dreams. Everyone on the plane. Who wouldn't? We hunt the worst of humanity, we see the depths of depravity. We dream of monsters..."

"In my dream, there's a baby in the middle of a circle and there's someone on the other side and I can't get to her before I..." Spencer trailed off.

"Every night I look at Deborah. Helps me. Helps me go to sleep thinking of the victims we've saved. Don't always beat the monsters to the babies, but we do enough to make the job worth it. Keep the nightmares bearable." Gideon said.

Spencer smiled, appreciatively. "Can I ask you a personal question? Zoe said she had been having nightmares since she was two months old and you somehow got her through it. How?"

"Zoe was always an intelligent child. She always looked like she knew what we were saying. She said her first word when she was six months old. By the time she was a year old, she had the cognitive understanding of an eight-year-old. My boy, Stephen, is just a year and a half older than her and would sleep in the same room as the twins in the early days. One day he told me that Zoe was having trouble sleeping that she would cry silently as opposed to her screaming so one night I was working a case when I went to check on them. She was crying but silently. I took her out and she was calling for her mama. That's when I knew she remembered. Her intelligence and memory has often been a curse on her, she wanted to help too young, made her first profile when she was three, but this was perhaps the worst one. So I just talked to her about her mom. All the wonderful things Zelena did. How she, while six-months pregnant took down the UnSub who kidnapped Deborah, and comforted her all the way back to the BAU where she was reunited with her parents. All the good memories I had about her mother to help replace the bad one she had. She's very much her mother's daughter. So was Zarah. Zelena had a way of seeing the good in everyone, Zoe's hardened over the years but she still has that."

———————————————————————————

*I posted this but while it doesn't seem this series is very popular (I write it because I enjoy it and have had this idea for almost as long as I've been watching Criminal Minds which is like over a year) no one seemed to be liking this one and when I brought it up the first time, it said there was an error while when I X'ed out and brought it back up again, it did bring it up, I wasn't sure if it was for everyone else, so I decided to delete it, edit it a little and then repost it. I haven't posted the past few days because I've been copying and pasting my written episodes of the rest of season one and the first episode of season two (since it was part of the season one finale two-parter) and I took all of yesterday to write an original scene between Zoe and Spence because I was originally going to have it be sooner but I changed my mind, which I'll explain when we get to the episode I was going to have it in.*

*There is no evidence that sugar directly influences ADHD, I've never believed that sugar was bad for ADHD, even I was a child. (I've had ADHD since I was three but technically I wasn't diagnosed until I was five, back then they couldn't test until you were five... ugh, that makes me sound so old) ADHD is also not caused by bad parenting, while I didn't have the best parenting. My dad was the one with ADHD and he was... neglectful... I mean before I was two years old I had to get stitches in my head twice because he wasn't paying attention (once in the bottom on my lip because I fell out of my crib because I was reaching for the light switch and he kept pushing the crib away even though my mom told him not to, and I climbed out of my playpen while my mom was getting ready for work and my dad wouldn't get out of bed and I had to get stitches in my head) and also I locked myself in the dryer when I was like eight (I was trying to do that Scooby-Doo hiding thing and didn't realize that when you close a dryer door it locks... my mom didn't find out for ten more years when I causally mentioned, I just assumed she knew). This not the cause of my ADHD, despite ADHD being one of the most common disorders in the world, perhaps second to Dyslexia, it is not researched enough (Dyslexia is not researched enough either. What are doctor-scientists doing all the time? What do you call that? Google says a psychologist but that seems more like people who diagnose disorders not actively research them?) Playing video games also not does cause ADHD, that is very stupid. I didn't play many video games, growing up, mostly at my dad's place until I was around nine or ten and we got a Wii at my mom. My mom didn't like video games because my half-brother never played them until my dad got him into them and she seems to not like things that he did out of principle (Like XBox or video games or Bluetooth ear pieces). The real cause of ADHD is unknown but research suggests that it's likely a combination of genetics and environmental factors. Children with a parent or siblings with ADHD have an increased chance of developing it (my dad has ADHD). Problems with the central nervous system during development may also play a role as ADHD kids have lower levels of dopamine and lower brain metabolism is area that control attention, movement, and social judgement. Now for the environmental factors, it's NOT BAD PARENTING. That is stupid and sounds like an excuse that other parents say just to gossip. These factors include: exposure to lead as a child (I'm not sure what that has to do with anything though), brain injuries (early brain can be a cause, not the cause but one of the possible causes), low birth weight, smoking/alcohol/drug use during pregnancy (my dad was the only one who ever smoked, my mom doesn't drink alcohol now or ever in my memory, I'm almost twenty-four—ugh—and I've never drank, smoked, or done drugs, even if I wanted to which I don't, I have no possible way of getting my hands on any), and being born prematurely (I was supposed to be born on November 14th but due to something which my mom blames on the doctor, they didn't an C-section on Halloween, but I was completely fine, there was no complications other than the C-section and this way my birthday is on Halloween—yes, that's why Zoe's birthday is on Halloween but is there a cooler day to be born on?). But genetics are considered to be the primary cause, according to Google, genetics are likely responsible for up to 75% of ADHD cases

I know a lot of this is "kids with ADHD" but if you look it up, most ADHD research seems to be towards kids, which is odd because ADHD when you're a kid versus when you're an adult is different, I'm not sure if whatever scientist studies ADHD think that studying ADHD in kids is more important than in adults or something, but it's just odd and it kind of enforces the neurotypical belief that only kids have ADHD. Or maybe, it's like with me, I have a hard time describing my ADHD because I don't know what it's like not to have ADHD. I've had it basically my whole life, so ADHD is my normal while it's not normal to other people. The only reason I know these lesser-known things about ADHD is because I do research and I think a lot and because of my ADHD, I think in ways that other people don't but at the same time I am oblivious to what is obvious to other people. This is why I love Spener Reid so much, he has a very neurodivergent way of him, perhaps it's his autism or slightly schizophrenic nature or even because his character grew up with a schizophrenic mother, but I always love characters like him that make me feel like I'm not so alone.*

Link I used info from in ADHD info dump in story: The Link Between Sugar and ADHD

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lis-likes-fics · 4 months ago

Text

Dramatic

Pairing: Spencer Reid x adhd!bau!Reader Word Count: 2.9k words Warnings: Social anxiety, character with ADHD, crying, emotional hurt/comfort... A/N: I embarrassed myself a little bit and that day will haunt me forever. Enjoy!

Spencer slows as he comes up on your desk. He furrows his brows and looks around, noting your absence with a confused look on his face. Closing his book in his hand, he shifts it under his arm and turns to Emily opposite your empty seat.

Before he can even finish his inhale, she's already speaking. “Last time I saw her, she had to go print something out.”

“When was that?”

Emily looks away from the bright light of her screen in favor of checking her watch. “About fifteen minutes ago?” She shrugs, “I assume she got caught up with something.”

She spins around in her chair in a rather dramatic manner, turning to face JJ in the desk behind her. “You seen my desk buddy anywhere?”

“Printer.” She doesn't even look up.

“That's what I said.”

JJ hums a little. “She probably just got distracted.” She looks over her shoulder at Spencer for the first time, though not for long. “I'd check the printer.”

With a spark of genius, Emily's brows lift as she turns back to her screen. “If she's not there, she could be with Garcia.”

JJ just points her finger over at Emily and hums, still lounging back in her chair as her focus glares at whatever she's filling out at her computer.

“Thanks, guys.” Spencer sets his book down on your desk, turning on his heel to find the printing room where you have supposedly been hanging out for the past fifteen minutes.

He doesn't know what would keep you that long. You're not social enough to have gotten caught up talking, and your distractions are so easy as to keep you from returning to your desk (especially not when Emily is there to keep you company).

Plus, you hate the printing room. The printers are practically always running, and there's this weird clacking noise from one of the machines that unnerves you every time you have the misfortune of having to listen to it.

As he expects, you're not there. There's one guy standing in front of one of the printers, beating his hand on the side to get it to work. Other than that, however, you're nowhere to be found and Spencer is starting to worry.

Realistically, he knows that he shouldn't. You're in a building surrounded by FBI agents, and you're smart enough to know exactly how to tip someone off if you're in trouble. You're so smart, you'd realize there was danger long before it actually hit (because you pay too much attention to little details and sometimes forget about the more obvious things in front of you). He's lucky enough that any UnSub striking the FBI is likely too intelligent not to be meticulous.

But anyway, it doesn't matter because you're not in danger, and maybe you're just with Penelope or using the bathroom or (not in the break room, he already checked) or even–

Shoot.

“Hi.”

Penelope’s door was open, so he let himself in with a gentle knock on the door. Derek is there. He's leaning against one of her desks as she works. They're talking about something Spencer suspects to be too suggestive for his interest.

“Oh!” Penelope turns around in her seat with so much enthusiasm. She almost seems amazed as she looks upon him. “Spencer Reid, coming to visit me. Hello! How are you, my little knick knack?”

Derek chuckles, gesturing for him to join the two with a charming smile.

“I'm good,” he says. He asks about you.

Penelope’s brows join together as she shakes her head. “Oh, I don't know,” she answers matter-of-factly. “I have not seen her. Why? Is she okay?” Her worry creates a crease at her brows that deepens with every second that her question is unanswered.

“You lost your girl, pretty boy?” Derek gently nudges Spencer's shoulder.

“Not lost, just…” he shrugs, “misplaced.”

He hums. “She hasn't come by, no. Last time I saw her was early in the break room with you.”

Spencer scratches the back of his neck. Sorting through his mind about all the places you could be. If you left the building, you would've told someone, so you're definitely still here. You don't have any meetings either, so he's genuinely confused as to where you could possibly be hiding.

“I was hoping I'd find her here.”

Penelope raises a suggestive hand. “Well, I can look on the cameras, if you want.” She wheels around in her chair. She's already tapping away on her keyboard with a loud clickity-clack. “I'm sure we can find her somewhere in here.”

“When did you last see her?” Derek asks.

“I saw her at her desk twenty one minutes and thirty-seven seconds ago, but Emily said she went to the printing room about fifteen minutes ago.”

Penelope mutters to herself as she types in her perimeters. “Okay. Printers, fifteen minutes. And…” She clicks her tongue. “There she is!”

Spencer feels a wave of relief at seeing you standing by one of the machines. You're popping your knuckles, staring dutifully at the printer like you're determined to grab them and go.

“Okay, waiting on papers. Let's fast forward a bit, and then…” Penelope’s as fast as the cameras as she watches you leave the room with your stack clutched to your chest. Your gaze is following your feet, which are taking you down the halls and in the wrong direction of your desk.

When you turn into a room, all of them are a little confused. Derek most of all. “My office?” He turns to Spencer with a furrowed brow. “What's she doin’ in my office?”

“Cameras don't show her leaving. She should still be in there right now.” Penelope adjusts her glasses on her nose, turning back around.

“That’s odd,” he mumbles. “Thank you, Garcia.”

Spencer's already locked into his task when he turns around without another word. Derek calls him, interrupting his alertness.

“Whatever you do,” he tilts his head like he's warning him, his eyes narrowed playfully as he smirks, “keep it PG in my office, okay?”

Spencer almost blushes at the notion. Penelope smacks him square in his chest, looking up like he's scolding Derek for his behavior. But he only raises his hands high in surrender. “Hey! Mama, I'm just jokin’,” he laughs, his face split into one of his charming smiles. “I'm playin’!”

Spencer purses his lips in that dorky way that you always say you love. He excuses himself in favor of finding you. The path to Derek's office is an easy and familiar path. He ends up opening the door not long after.

He doesn't see you.

Spencer's eyes sweep the office once more and find Derek's chair further away from his desk than it's meant to be—that is, if he pushed it in properly to begin with.

With a gentle sigh, he takes slow, quiet steps to round the large desk. He kneels when he gets to the other side, feeling the worry dissolve and take another shape all within the same second.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice is so soft, this quiet little whisper that doesn't stir you too much.

You have your arms wrapped around your knees, your face buried away within them. You don't move, and you don't seem to be crying, so at least that isn't an issue. Your voice is muffled by your arms.

“Hi.” You don't look up. “How’d you find me?” you mutter, still not moving from your position.

“Penelope.”

You sigh, finally lifting your head. “Penny.” He almost laughs at the way you say it, like you're accusing her of a crime.

“Can I join you?” he asks gently.

You nod without a word. Spencer moves to sit across from you. He's so long, it takes quite a bit of maneuvering to fit himself into the small space. He's slouched over like some real life origami. His legs have no choice but to reach all the way over into your space and box you in with him. You don't mind much.

He lets you both sit in silence for a while. You seem to really need it. He doesn't decide to speak until you finally look at his face, your eyes flitting across it like you're trying to find something.

“What's wrong?”

You shake your head, looking away again. It breaks his heart to watch the way you huddle into yourself. “It's stupid.”

“It's not stupid,” he protests kindly. He reaches a hand out to cradle the back of your leg. His hand is warm, it feels good even through the fabric of your slacks. “Not if it's making you feel like this.”

You don't respond. Spencer's mouth twitches to the side. He taps your leg lightly. “What happened?”

You sigh, taking a moment before you lift your head to see him again. There's a tiny crease in his brows. His eyes are narrowed just a bit. He's genuinely concerned, and it makes you feel bad because the reason you're upset is so…trivial.

“We deal with death every day, and most of the time, I come out of it okay,” you say under your breath, shaking your head at yourself, “but this is what gets me.”

“What's ‘this’?” he presses gently.

You lick your bottom lip and speak slowly. “I went to print some papers, and this lady walked up and waved at me, so I waved back at her and…”

He thinks he knows where this is going. “Yeah?”

There’s an element of self-depreciation when you respond, and your words from earlier echo sadly in his head at the thought that you might be hearing it, too—it’s stupid. “Well, it turns out, she’s not even waving at me. She’s waving to this other lady standing next to me.” You shake your head, looking down as if to remember something. “And she kinda, like…gave me this look.”

“Was it a mean one?” He hopes not. He loves you too much for someone to be giving you mean looks. He wants you to feel safe and happy, and you don’t.

You shake your head. “No, she looked…maybe a little confused or even, like…apologetic, but it was a look.” He watches you bury your head again, hiding away in your embarrassment. “I should not be hiding because of a look.”

Spencer sets a reassuring hand on your knee. “You don’t have to feel embarrassed about something like that.”

When you lift your head again, he can see tears you’d tried so hard to keep back shining in your eyes. His heartstrings tug behind his ribcage. He thinks you’re gonna kill him one day. “I know!” you sniffle, refusing to let any of your tears spill. “I know, but I do, and it’s ridiculous.”

“But…” he says, like he isn’t finished, “it’s also perfectly okay to be embarrassed about something like that.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and looking to the side again. “Please.” A tear spills over, and you catch it quickly. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down hard. He’s worried you’ll draw blood. “I overreact or underreact to literally everything. When are my feelings ever reasonable?”

He would scoot closer if his body structure allowed it, but, alas, he is too long. “All the time. They never stop being reasonable,” he reassures. He sighs gently, wanting so badly to make sure you know how much he adores you. “Can I hold your hand?”

You look back at him, swallowing thickly as you slowly raise your hand for him to take. It means a lot, actually, that he wants to hold your hand. Too many germs. Your chest feels warm with your adoration of him. He gives you a smile, and you almost hide for a different reason.

Holding his eye contact is so hard sometimes. He has such pretty eyes, it’s a shame how hard it is to look at them when you get like this. You want to kiss him, to let him know.

Instead, you just squeeze his hand. “She probably already forgot it happened.” You chew on your bottom lip. “And I’ve been hiding under Derek’s desk for the past, like, ten minutes because I can’t forget about it.”

Spencer doesn’t want to tell you that it’s been twelve minutes and sixteen seconds. You hide your face once again more, dramatically this time. “This will haunt me forever.”

His lip quirks but he tries not to smile too much. “Hey.”

“I know. It’s childish.”

“That isn’t what I was going to say,” he smiles. He ducks his head in the hopes of catching your eyes, but he waits for you to look up first. “You know what I’m going to say?”

You do look at him. He’s so sweet, now you can’t look away. “What?”

He leans forward, feeling his back spine stretching as he does. His large hand sets against your cheek, and you lean into the warmth. He gives you a smile that you call charming, though he probably wouldn’t agree. “I love you.”

You can’t help it. The way he makes you feel is reminiscent of a teenager who just shared eye contact with her crush. He wipes your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb, clearing away any water left behind by the few tears that had escaped your clutches. “Stop,” you giggle, turning away.

He guides your face back. His grin is this huge, mushy thing on his face that squints his eyes until his lashes kiss. “Never,” he mutters affectionately. He loves to see you smile. “I love you. Especially when you care a little too much about an accidental wave.”

You catch him in his words, raising your brows accusingly. He’s helping your anxiety tremendously, and you probably won’t realize it until you’ve fully recovered. “So you agree that this is stupid?”

He laughs, shaking his head quickly. His voice, not as soft anymore, is filled to the brim with his happiness “That’s not what I said. I’m saying that I love you because you’re so amazing, and I want you to know it.” He traces the underside of your eyelashes, reluctantly slipping his hand off your cheek. “No matter how many times you wave at someone who isn’t actually waving at you.”

You’re still giggly. “Spencer.” You shift your legs, not without difficulty, to sit in a criss-cross position. Spencer mimics you (with even more difficulty than you). He has to bend down a little so he’ll fit.

“It’s the truth.”

“Well…” you try to dull your giggles to a simmering bubbly feeling in your chest, “I love you, too. Even when I think you’re crazy for loving me…” You think about that for a moment. “Especially when I think you’re crazy for loving me.”

Spencer holds your cheek again and pulls you in for a kiss. You savor this one, your noses brushing affectionately as you do. Spencer doesn’t kiss you at work.

“Will you come back to your desk with me?” he whispers, his lips brushing yours.

You nod gently. “Yeah.”

Spencer smiles, pecking your cheek. He lets go of you to untuck himself from under the desk. He has to stretch his body out before he offers his hand for you. You take it, hoisting yourself up to stand next to him. “Those are mine.” You gesture toward the papers on Derek’s desk as you brush off your pants.

He doesn’t wait for you, he just scoops them into his hands. “I’ve got them.”

“Thanks,” you grin. He sneaks one more kiss, this one to your temple.

You look up at him and hold your arms open, a quiet request. Spencer’s happy to answer your request, wrapping his arms around you in a hug that pulls you closer to him than you feel like you’ve ever been. He takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes and sighing longingly.

When you pull away, you walk with him. His hand hangs down by his side, and you glance at it as you brush your pinky with his. He smiles, but he doesn’t look over at you.

It’s been hardly ten seconds since you left the office, and your phone is ringing. You furrow your brow, fishing it from your pocket and glancing down at the screen. You sigh gently, silently appreciating her because she means so much.

You put her on speaker. “Penny?”

“Are you okay, sweet girl?” she asks immediately, her voice full of worry. You glance at Spencer, who still doesn’t turn to you. He’s smiling, though, so you know that he knows you’re watching him.

“Yes, I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?” she asks. “I can go to you. I’ll bring the squishy that you like!”

Your voice fades into a laugh. “I’m okay, Pen, really.”

“Did my desk help?”

The way Derek’s voice sounds when he speaks up makes you flush a little. You keep your voice level, still looking up to stare at Spencer. You trust him not to let you run into anything as he suppresses his smile with the thin line of his lips. “Yes, Morgan, it was very nice.” You raise a brow. “Am I going to hear Prentiss next?”

He laughs. “Just li’l ole me.”

“And me. I’m still here.” Penelope makes you laugh.

“Goodbye, both of you.”

“Bye, honey bun.” “Bye!” You hang up on them.

Spencer’s warmth seeps into your side. You resist the urge to lay your head on his shoulder because you’re supposed to be professional at work. Instead, you sigh and let your pinkies brush. “I love our friends.”

Spencer smiles. “Me, too.”

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