COVERT : Spencer Reid (II)

23

There are only a few minutes left when Mary and I have gone through the entire list. It's not surprising. The better part of two months are written down on multiple pages. I stapled them together and then put them in a folder for good measure.

"I see you invited Spencer to your holiday celebration with your siblings."

Maybe I should have kept avoiding therapy period not that I was. Avoiding therapy, I mean. I was busy. I am busy. This session is an excuse not to carpool with Rachel, and now I can stay later at the office.

"I did," I tell her. The clock on the wall ticks on. "No, I haven't told him. I haven't really been thinking about it. Any of it, actually."

Mary leans forward, nodding, "you aren't thinking about your abduction?"

I shake my head. It's cold and I cross my legs. With the money I spend on sessions, you'd think she'd buy a space heater or something.

"Then why mention it now?"

I hate how she does that.

I shrug, "well I wasn't thinking about it, but you were."

She tilts her head just slightly, "that might be considered a cognitive distortion. Which one?"

She blinks. It's somehow robotic. I expect to hear the mechanical click of her eyelids. Maybe that's how she can stand such a cold office. It's not blood beneath her skin.

"Mind reading," I tell her. "I don't do that one. As per my sheet."

I gesture to my homework on the end table beside her, but she doesn't look away from me, "So you wouldn't say it is typical for you to assume people are thinking about your abduction?"

It's hard for my anger to ruse when she looks at me so blankly. Her objectivity is supposed to make it easier to tell her things, not make it more difficult. Her office is cold, the water in the cooler is warm, but nothing comes from her gaze.

"You have a point," I admit, reclining. Game recognizes game.

"Since we are running low on time, I have some homework I'd like to give you." Mary grabs the notepad on the table. "When you catch yourself personalizing, I'd like to begin by challenging those thoughts. You say you aren't imaginative, but if you're willing, I'd like if you could mentally construct other explanations for the behavior of your friends and family. Instead of assuming you are at fault when they struggle, specifically when the abduction is what is to blame, make a list of alternative explanations for their behaviour. Hopefully this will also begin to address your mind reading."

Then, I nod. Without much else to say, we close therapy. Now, I absolutely have too much on my plate. I'll never escape homework, even years out of my master's program. The team is gone again, so at least I can power through the rest of the evening. I stay late, only interrupted when Rachel calls me to ask if I'm coming home with them. The office is mostly quiet, only a few night-shift IT staff hanging around. The dim lights make reading on the screen even harder.

January will never end. The busier I am, the quicker days seem to slip out beneath my feet. My office shoes aren't good for running, and I struggle to dig in the sharp heels. Somehow, this month is the opposite. I work and work and work and it's still January. It might always still be January, for the rest of all of time.

I guess I'm fine with that. Although, I'd rather it be warmer. The days before summer, where the wind doesn't bristle but the sun doesn't engulf DC in heat. May, actually, is the perfect month, weather-wise. Now that I'm over it all, I'm almost looking forward to the spring weather.

"Bouchard?"

I twist my head, looking at Prentiss, who has called out my name. Morgan moves past her into the bullpen. They shake their heads.