Title: A Balanced Equation
Summary: They fit neatly into his life, factors that produce a whole, and it disproves the collective societal misconception that one must have intimate partnership and sex in order to be satisfied. Team fic from an asexual!Reid's POV and introspective character study.
Notes: Written and set pre-Maeve, whom I absolutely fell in love with before the writers cruelly ripped her away from me (and Reid). Needless to say, I shipped Reid/Maeve quite a lot, and speaking as a fan of asexual!Reid, I actually really approved of how the writers set it up - it could have been the perfect non-sexual romantic relationship. Alas for wasted opportunities.
"I sustain myself with the love of family."
- Maya Angelou
The job consumes. The job drains. The job is by far the hardest thing he's ever done. And yet Spencer Reid is not unhappy.
There are doubts, of course - doubts about living up to his true potential, misgivings about the disparity between what he is using his mind for versus what he isn't, and wonderings about his place in society and in the universe (if he does indeed have one). A brain like his is often given to questioning norms, to cosmic questions that have no definite answer, but such uncertainties are not always the products of an unhappy mind.
Because - upon wrestling with these doubts, these reservations, these answerless questions - he finds that he is whole.
It's an odd conclusion to come to, when one considers what he's been through in his life and what he's chosen for himself. But Spencer is not the kind of person to live by his misfortunes and doubts. He knows that he is flawed, that there will always be a part of him that fears abandonment, that has a lingering struggle with narcotics, that finds forgiveness a difficult thing to extend and wholeheartedly intend. One would expect him to be damaged, fractured by what he's seen, what he's lived. Perhaps he is. His is an intrapersonal nature, and the amount of self-reflection he's done is the reason for his occasional misgivings. But the conclusion remains true - there is enough evidence supporting it to make it sound.
The evidence is, of course, them.
It doesn't particularly matter that the job is so consuming and draining, because it's not his job alone. It's a burden that they all share, and he's already considered the unfortunate implications of it possibly being the real reason for their closeness - at the very least, the overarching reason. One cannot handle such horrors in the company of others on a weekly basis and expect nothing to form.
Logic dictates that this sort of connection is by nature unhealthy, but logic has a limited place in the realm of human emotions, and Spencer knows that this is right; logic be damned. He is admittedly not an expert when it comes to sentiment; he can tell you that a need for connection and for love is almost always a byproduct of humanity and inform you of the chemical impulses that translate into said emotions, but a scientific understanding does not necessarily translate into an emotional one.
Nevertheless, the evidence stands, the conclusion is solid.
He doesn't have much in the way of blood family, and indeed the only part he'll truly acknowledge is the schizophrenic mother he loves dearly. And outside of that... the job and his own social inhibitions limit the availability of intimate emotional connections, and yet despite that and because of it, he's found himself his own family.
They're a collection of wildly different individuals, drawn together only by the job - a connection much like bloodline and yet dissimilar. It is, inherently, a choice, where bloodline is not, and like bloodline, 'colleague' is a necessary relation while 'friend' is optional. And even 'friend' comes across as inadequate, and so Spencer chooses 'family', because that is what they are.
Like family, it doesn't necessarily make sense. Like family, it involves a considerable amount of heartache that one neither wants nor needs. And like family, it is entirely worth it.
Even without the chemical impulses and the need, it is still science, in a way, or so Spencer has come to think of it. A chemical equation must be balanced if all of its varying components are to form a product, and each of them brings something to the table that comes together to create a whole. It's more than just a particular skill-set; that is the job, and the job has little to do with what a family is. It's the everything - the personality and the quirks and the love and resentment and sadness and joy, the feelings and emotions that can't quite be explained in the words of man. It is this that forms the whole, that makes Spencer whole even though logic and society say that he shouldn't be.
He's never felt the need for anything else, since they've come into his life. Since youth, he's had a tendency to keep to himself, and the company of his own mind is often enough for him. But not always. He is human, just like anyone else, with the entirely human need for emotional connection and support, for contact. And they give him that, when he summons up the courage to ask for it or when they offer it to him anyway.
And the strange thing is, what they give is enough.
Perhaps it isn't so strange; it's just him, his nature. Society's command to find a mate, to breed, has never really stirred him. All he's ever heard and seen states that, in no uncertain terms, all humans want that singular partnership, that soul mate, and the emphasis is always placed on sex, that biological function that has somehow become equated with the ultimate love. But this is entirely false in terms of all people. For most people, perhaps, but Spencer has never needed either. To be truthful, he's never particularly wanted either - never entirely certain of romance or how to go about initiating it and never drawn to sex at all. That's not to say a biological desire isn't there, but it's negligible, and it's never been directed at anyone before. Neither has any real romantic feeling. His contentment has never once depended on romance or sex - a living contradiction of a false truth.
This fact has always been present in his life, but it had taken many years to realize its presence, and the ingrained belief that everyone wants it had been difficult to shake off.
Of course, upon enlightenment, he'd invested himself quite thoroughly in researching the scientific study behind it and upon finding a disappointing lack, had written a few papers of his own, but the real point is... his team, his family, they're enough. The love they've come to have for one another is enough, and it isn't any less valid or fulfilling. They are what give him emotional satisfaction, and it's far better than any outdated notions that society has tried to force on him for the entirety of his life.
Each of them forms an integral part of his life - friends, brothers, sisters, family - and perhaps that's why his fear of abandonment has never left... but despite life's cruelty, despite the lack of that which society deems necessary, Spencer Reid is happy. He has the job, the all-consuming job, and despite his occasional doubts, he knows it's making a difference. And most important to his emotional well-being, it's given him his family, the people who satisfy him completely.
He has what he needs, and it's all he finds himself wanting.