Reid and Reid Ship Oneshots

Reid has Stargardt Disease

(Stargardt disease is really interesting, and I got the idea cause I did a project about it.
I honestly got bored with this story, but I guess it's not terrible)
🖤

At a glance, Spencer Reid looked completely normal. He could walk in a straight line, read books, make eye contact, play the piano, he technically had a license to drive; but all of these things were gradually getting harder and harder for him to do.
He has a degenerative eye disease called Stargardt disease, where his central vision slowly deteriorates. He's actually on his way to total vision loss in the next ten or so years. It was honestly a miracle he got his job on the BAU in the first place. Gideon apparently had a way with words.

"Reid; briefing; let's go." Hotch called to him from the top of the stairs as he walked into the bullpen from the elevator.

He quickly turned his head to the side to get a glimpse of his bosses expression, trying to see if he was upset in anyway. He wasn't.
Reid had to look away from Hotch to actually look at him, because only his peripheral vision was viable. To look at what was in front of him, he had to view it from the edge of his eyes.

Reid quickly went up to the conference room, taking another side glance to see where any open seats were.
He sat down with a smile towards anyone who was looking at him, and apologized before urging to start the briefing.

"Four women have all went missing up on hiking trails, all in the same mile stretch." Garcia clicked through her slide show, bringing up the picture of the four women.

"The unsub is still killing even after a blockade was put up? Surely people would know that that stretch of trail was dangerous." Morgan argued.

"The city has tried to inform the public about the disappearance without causing alarm, but people aren't as cautionary as they should be." Hotch explained, letting Garcia continue.

"None of the bodies have been found, but all women's driver licenses were discovered at the scene of the disappearances if they had them with them. It was said that Regina Williams, the second victim, never took her ID on runs through the woods, and her purse and wallet were found in her home with all continents accounted for."

"Were the licenses found dropped, or purposely placed?" Elle asked, chewing on a pen.

Garcia clicked to another slide, showing the crime scene photos of the IDs.
It was nailed to a tree.

"Why would the unsub bring a hammer and nails, but not use it to subdue or kill his victims? There is no blood or signs of a struggle at any location." Elle asked, putting her pen down.

"The ritual of pinning the women's IDs must mean something to him." Gideon said, setting up Reid to finished his thought.

"It could be a metaphor for crucifixion; nail the legal existence of these women to a piece of wood. Or it could be simple decimation." He said.

"Say we follow the metaphorical route, what would they be doing to the women then? What's stopping them from simply killing the victims?" JJ asked.

"There could be another unsub that wants the women alive, and they hold enough power over the asserter that no lethal harm does come to them." Morgan supplied.

"Alright, we'll brief some more on the jet." Hotch ordered, grabbing a stack of files and leaving the room. A few members of the BAU followed him out.

"Reid, let's go, you're pooling with me today." Morgan called out.

He knew Morgan meant car pooling, but he couldn't stop himself from imagining a swimming pool with wheels. He smiled at the thought of swimming. With his disease, his mother was always too paranoid to let him do anything, and now with it so progressed, he doesn't even know if he can do anything.

"Come on, Reid. I said I'm giving you a ride." Morgan urged, already having made his way to the doorway of the conference room.

Reid quickly stood up and hurried to Morgan's side.
As they walked down the small flight of stairs and towards their desks to get their go-bags, Reid held onto Morgan's wrist for direction.
No, he wasn't blind, but he still couldn't see well. Using your peripheral vision is harder than you think, and even with 10+ years of adjustment, it still isn't any easier. So Reid would grab onto someone to lead him, especially if they were moving quickly.

"Can you grab onto somewhere else? I need to grab my stuff." Morgan asked, bending down at his desk to retrieve his duffle bag from underneath it. He pulled his wrist from Reid's hold before he actually let go.

He felt embarrassed, and was worried he might have been too depending or touchy.
He kept his hands at his side as he waited for Morgan to get his things situated.

"Did you hear me? Grab onto my shirt or something." He said, annoyed that Reid hadn't repositioned his hand yet. "I didn't tell you to let go, I told you to grab somewhere else. I need my hands every now and then, you know?" Morgan teased, reaching to carry Reid's bag as well as his own. Now both of his hands were occupied, but the heme of his shirt was free of any travel.

For some reason, it was much more embarrassing to hold onto Morgan's shirt heme, than it was to hold his wrist. Even when they sometimes held hands directly for comfortability, it never had as much effect on Reid as this did.
It made him feel like a child, or a lost puppy, while he followed Morgan from behind with a fist full of his shirt.
He could feel eyes on them as they made their way to the elevator. Reid wasn't actively looking for them, but he could feel it.
In reality though, no one in the bullpen actually cared. It was standard routine to see Morgan leading Reid around. Sure, it usually wasn't by the shirt heme, but not a single staff member spared them more than a passing glance.

"You still there?" Morgan teased at Reid's quietness, looking back behind his shoulder to see him with his head to the ground.

Reid let go of Morgan's shirt, and walked behind him without being connected. He still had a good sense of his surroundings, but he no longer could mindlessly follow someone.

"Reid, you good?" Morgan asked, not stoping his steps, but concerned when the presence of Reid's hand on his shirt vanished.

"Yeah, I just don't need your help right now." He said sheepishly, still following close behind Morgan, because he did still need his guidance, he just didn't want to be touching him.

"Alright, whatever you say." Morgan sighed, not really understanding why Reid suddenly became so reluctant.

On the jet, everyone sat in their respective seats: JJ in the front, Rossi behind her, Emily next to JJ, Hotch where everyone could see him, Reid laid on the couch; seemingly sleeping, and Morgan sitting at his feet.
He had his hand resting on his ankle slightly under the cuff of his slacks, slowly rubbing the joint with his thumb. He was worried Reid was upset by something. He knew he was, but he didn't know about what.

He snapped the band of Reid's sock to get his attention.
He looked up towards Morgan in reply.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, I was sleeping." Reid said.

"Why didn't you want me to help you earlier?"

"It was just embarrassing to have to grab your shirt. I looked like a child." Reid answered honestly, sitting up to be level with Morgan's eyes.

"Everyone knows about your eye-disease-thing, I promise no one cared all." He tried to assure.

"I know, but that doesn't stop me from thinking people do."

"You're really stupid for a genius." Morgan chuckled, putting his arm over Reid's shoulder and pulling him against his own body.

Reid braced himself with his hands, turning to listen in on the discussion that had been going on between the other BAU members.
He appreciated the kind words, but soon enough Reid wouldn't be able to see any glares or side eyes people through at him. And that's what scared him: being blind before he even had the chance to do the things he wanted.

He untangled from Morgan's arm, and sat up straight. He turned to Reid, curious as to his actions.
He pressed his chest to Morgan's shoulder, placing one of his hands behind the both of them to stop him from apply too much weight.

Reid smiled. He wasn't going to let what little time he had left of a functioning life go to waste. He was going to do what he wanted, when he wanted, with whoever he wanted.