DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds or any of its characters or ideas. No copyright infringement intended.

CONTENT WARNING: Some of the content in this piece may be triggering or upsetting to some, including mentions of panic disorder, trauma and graphic violence. Reader discretion is advised.

He'd pushed them all away; ignored their calls and the gentle knocks at his front door. Maybe he didn't have to. Maybe he didn't have to be alone, but that was how it felt at the time and he did the best he could. Their love, though comforting in his periphery, was so strong it could have suffocated him.

There is empowerment in the love of a found family, but there is also pressure. The pressure of love you can't reciprocate is crushing and all-consuming. He was not in a position to give them the love and friendship that they deserved, nor could he articulate that fact to them without hurting their feelings or severing the ties between them completely and so he did nothing. He did not respond at all and hoped that they would still be there when he was ready.

Of course, they were still there. Just as they had been time and time again. And, just as they had before, they knew just what he needed. Emily greeted him with a coffee, just how he liked it. Derek asked him how he was, but in a gentle and non-invasive way. JJ gave him a loving smile and though he knew she wanted nothing more than to ruffle his overgrown curls, she kept on walking to Hotch's office.

There were a number of checks and tests he had to pass before he would be allowed out into the field again. The higher-ups wouldn't make that mistake again. Upon his return, he was allocated exclusively administrative work and he tried not to take it as an insult.

He told himself that it was not a gross underestimation of his capabilities. It was not mistrust or disrespect. It was kindness. He wasn't ready for fieldwork, and he had to tell himself that that in itself was okay.

As he watched the team head off on their case an ache blossomed in his chest. That ache turned over into a panic and he took himself away from his desk and into the restroom to catch his breath. Sat down on the closed lid of the toilet, he closed his eyes and braced his hands against the door to the cubicle and breathed slow. The jittering in his bones was enough to jerk the muscles in his arms into spasm and he wrapped them around himself to keep them still.

In and out.

It wasn't their leaving that had triggered this reaction in him, although that had been the catalyst. He wanted more than anything to be going with them, but this time he knew that he wasn't ready. The last time he was on that jet, after fighting so hard to get on it, had been a mistake. That desperate feeling of wanting to get back to normal, of trying to wrangle some control back over what he could handle and whether he could do his job or not, had crept up his chest and wrapped around his throat. That feeling of being unable to accept his new normal had almost choked the life out of him.

Once he was calm and the collar and underarms of his shirt were only mildly damp, he washed his hands at the sink and patted some cold water against his forehead with a tissue before heading back to his desk. When he arrived there was a familiar collection of bright colours and sparkling pompoms standing beside it.

'Garcia?' He announced his approach, but she was still startled as she turned to look at him.

He watched her rein in her reaction, watched her suppress the urge to yell gleefully and wrap her arms around him. She clasped her hands in front of her and smiled.

'Hey you.' She said, her voice a little raspy.

He pressed his lips into a smile. 'What are you doing here?'

'Heard through the grapevine that you were back.' She shrugged her shoulders and twisted her hands around. 'I would have made cookies but, I don't know if you've noticed, we've been told not to make a big deal.'

'Yeah, I noticed,' he said and her expression fell, 'and I appreciated it.'

She smiled a little, but this was not her style. Reid had never seen her so mellow, so restrained.

'So…' she said, 'you want to go and get coffee or something?' She held her hands out. 'Or a milkshake? My treat?'

'Well, we were all feeling pretty down so I organised a nice evening for everyone,' Garcia explained, twirling the green and white striped straw inside her strawberry and white chocolate milkshake, 'unfortunately only the girls showed up, but, fortunately, this meant that we could have a girls' night out.'

Reid half-listened, cradling his mug of coffee with two hands and remembering a time when he could talk as fast as she was. So distant was the memory of being excited by something, of being so passionate that his mouth could not keep up with the speed at which his brain was processing what he wanted to say.

'So Emily came out in this dress that she wasn't so sure about and me and JJ thought wow it's a good thing the boys didn't come or they'd be very distracted and that could have been pretty awkward, but luckily it was just us girls so when we hit the town it was great fun. Emily got the majority of the attention which was fine although we all ended up going back home together. It wasn't the night for…you know…that kind of thing. We just wanted to have some fun.'

'I'm glad you did.' Reid attempted a smile and then thought that was wrong and wished he could have erased it from his face. 'Had fun, I mean.'

Garcia tilted her head in that way that expressed pity. 'I can't imagine you've had much fun lately.'

He shook his head and tried not to look at her. It wasn't pity. She was his friend. No one was against him or thought any little of him.

It's fine.

'No.' he said. 'not really.'

When Reid got back to his desk he threw himself into his work. As menial as it was, it helped to get his mind clear and focused on something other than how he was feeling, a topic he didn't want to expel any more energy on than he already had.

It was mostly HR stuff, nothing to do with any cases like the ones he used to work on. Nothing that would 'trigger' him, as it were.

He stayed in the office longer than he needed to. Whether he was trying to prove something or if he just would have rather stayed there than go home, he wasn't sure, but even when he had set his mind on leaving he sat in his chair and went through his messenger bag. He tossed crumpled old receipts out and tested the pens to see if they still worked, discarding any that didn't.

Amongst the discarded papers and scrunched tissues he found a slip of paper. A note with pink curly hand writing. There was a phone number and beneath it a name.

Claire.