The Keeping of Words | Spencer Reid

36| Broken Things

Reid couldn't manage to sit still. He rearranged the books on the conference room shelf, paced in circles around the table, unsolved and resolved a Megaminx puzzle cube in his messenger bag – three times. Bianca hadn't come back inside yet. He'd been worried from the moment she said she wanted to stay a little while. She'd spent all her life trying to get out of this town.

 All he wanted was to know she was safe, okay. There was no precedent for this. What was one supposed to do when their spouse's brother committed a murder and their family continued to live deep within their denial? Once he'd accused his own father of murder, but the claim had proved to be unfounded. To have those suspicions turn out to be true had to hit even harder than discovering you were wrong about everything. Which was worse, to face the shame of your assumptions or to see your fears brought to reality?

At the moment, he didn't care, he just wanted to see her. He couldn't stop thinking about how scared she had been reading the newspapers. Couldn't stop imagining what it must have been like for her as a child in that house, begging for someone to listen. Now here she was, repeating it all over again as an adult. He couldn't leave her totally alone right now. Not with them. Not knowing their history. 

Over an hour later, he decided to step out of the conference room to get some air. The sound of distant yelling caught his attention, and he walked to the front of the building in time to see a car pulling out of the parking lot and a slumped figure on the curbside. Knees curled into her chest, her face hidden in the sleeves of his suit jacket which she was still wearing. He couldn't open the door fast enough.

"Bianca?" He'd startled her and she looked up with an open mouth, a mix of shock and relief written on her face. He could see her face clearly, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, her face tired. She'd been crying hard. "What happened?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

 But she just shook her head back and forth. "It doesn't matter anymore." Whatever had transpired she wasn't ready to discuss. They'd rendered her, the woman who always had the right words, silent.

"It's okay," he said, feeling suddenly like a doctor in triage. Focus on what she needed most and what he could fix. "Let's go home." That was the first priority, get her away from this hellish place.

When she just stared at him, blinking, he knelt down beside her, placed his hand on hers. "Let's go home," he repeated, softer. Reid helped her up off the curb and led her to the passenger door of the SUV. She stepped in, moving slowly, like her body couldn't seem to find the strength to continue on. The quiet sat between them as they drove through the city, putting distance between them and the horrors of the day. It was as though she was in a daze, withdrawn completely into herself. Anything in the outside world was ignored, nothing seemed to really register for her. On the plane, the team filed into the back to afford them as much privacy together as possible. Bianca just stared out the window, her hand squeezing his tight.

It wasn't until they were back in their apartment that the spell finally seemed to break. Standing in the doorway, she froze suddenly. Reid was in the process of hanging up his coat when he turned back to see her there, her lip trembling, and he stumbled over to her as quickly as possible.

"What's wrong? Bianca, what happened at the station?"

"They don't want me anymore," she said, her voice hoarse. "They said I'm no longer a part of that family."

"Wait, they said what?" As harsh as her family could be, it didn't seem fathomable that they would have done such a thing.

"They never want to hear from me again." Her voice broke, tears returning to eyes. There was a contorted sort of smile on her face, trying to make sense of the absurdity of the situation. "Funny, isn't it? My brother kills someone, and they still blame me. They'd rather be in denial than accept the truth." How ironic, how impossible. And yet, not for the Browns.