Hatred to weapons

Hatred to weapons

"Heaven sends us friendship so that we can open up our hearts and find relief from the mysteries what suppress us." - Anton Chekhov Heaven

Hotch

Since the first moment I knew it was something about him. Since the first day when Gideon brought him, the seemingly defenseless young man who seemed so introverted, reclusive, avoiding any contact, but still he can manage to read people like books 20,000 words per minute. In my mind I laughed at my joke. Reid has been extraordinary. Not only because has been an "expert of everything" with his, eidetic memory and high IQ, and has been an exceptional man. The horrors what he get passed, his sick mother, a father, who abandoned them, bullying in schools, and what he has seen at work, it wasn't easy. And yet he retained child's naivete, innocence and he has been an idealist. I have never met a more courageous and cleaner man in his actions as well as goals.

But worst blow was the incident with Phillip Dowd. I had to attack him, both verbally and the kick him brutally, and although I know he understands that it was only manipulation to make the he can go unnoticed and got to my guns on the ankle, but it was disgusting and unforgivable. I felt like a traitor, I abused his trust. He told me that he's okay, but how can be okay after something like that? How could anyone able to be okay after this!

But perhaps in that there was something else, what I did not know, what none of us knew. Reid, as I said, he has been a great man, but in him has been something else. Something what isn't ordinary, what couldn't be understood. He was open, but still I felt a grain of secret which it got slowly to the surface. I heard a conversation, which have the young man and his mentor. It was good that Gideon decided to speak with him about it, but why it did suddenly seemed ridiculous and false. I saw it, Reid absolutely something troubling, but it was not quite that what he told us. The first time he killed somebody, killed and felt nothing. I'm his boss and friend, but I pretended that I betrayed him, both physically and mentally, I hurt him, but none of that was the main thing... But if I was right, what was that? What could be worse?

Hesitantly, I knocked on the door of Reid's house. Quite a long time nothing happened, so I wanted to leave, but then the door finally opened and Reid's head peered with a bright smile.

"Hotch, I was not expecting you. What brings you into my kingdom of silence and peace?" welcomed me.

"I would like to talk," I said, it sounded hollow and empty. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, sure," he said still with a smile youngster, opened the door and motioned hands, and I will not hesitate to let. My youngest member of the team seemed to be absolutely fine. Maybe I was wrong; I didn't have to do anything here. Hesitantly, I went inside. "Make yourself at home. Do you want tea or coffee?" he asked me, still I haven't closed the door.

"Coffee," I replied and Reid immediately disappeared somewhere into the living room. Oh, wait in the living room? Why he didn't go into the kitchen?

I followed him and gradually I began to realize that I have never been in his house, I just always imagined it at his house must look like. I was surprised that he didn't have mess here. Actually, it can't be when he had a minimum of things. It was just like in a hotel room. There were the usual equipment, especially furniture, but the shelves were empty. He had not at the eyes no personal thing, nor things to maintain himself or house, most of the shelves was empty, as well as the walls. I wondered. If I opened a drawer, there should Reid things, or would be utterly empty? Actually he lives here? This couldn't be trusted. The only thing pointed to Reid's presence was a kind of blue box with the inscription "Police box" in the corner of the room next to television, on which were a few special sculptures composed of several ordinary things. Three moving sculptures "the modern art", maybe even Reid's work.

Reid disappeared somewhere. I had bad feeling about this, but I obediently sat down in a beige chair and I strained me ears whether I will hear the rattle of a kettle. Nothing! I closed my eyes and put my head in hands. I was trying hard not to think. Not to think about what happened and why I'm here. Not to think about how looks like Reid's house, because I will profiled nothing good. I tried not to think about that now me young man has disappeared without a trace, and I had been just a few steps behind him at his apartment. Somewhere there's got to be?!

As if on cue, the door the blue box opens and Reid marched out of it with two cups of coffee and with the same calm and smiling, as he had welcomed me before. He handed me one and sat down beside me on the sofa. I suspiciously eyed him and then the drink.

"Did you brewed it in the blue box?" well, of all the questions what I had, I asked the dumbest, but it seemed that the young genius understood it. He stopped smiling nervously bit to his pink lips and looked away.

"Something like that," he replied evasively, but then decided to reassure me. "Hotch, I..." young man hesitated slightly. "I know how it must look like, but not all is as it seems. What you see... how should I say it? This place is not exactly where I live." I wanted to sarcastic retort that I have noticed, but that would be stupid. Reid hesitated, evidently he was not sure of my reaction, he was afraid. Respond to him in this way I would disappointed Reid and lost his trust forever.

"Okay, but where do you live? Why didn't you report that you moved? You know, it's necessary, what if something happened and..." I began, but he quickly silenced me with a gesture of one hand.

"I didn't move. Just... let's say that there are still other rooms and there I live. This is like the welcome hall. It is more secure," Suddenly the young genius laughed. "Now it sounds like I suffer from strong paranoia," I don't think it was very funny. The truth was that with all this crap in his life, I don't even wonder. "But it's not just about it," he began to assure me. "It is a habit of, what people usually expect and..."

"Reid, you do not have to explain anything to me. Then, what you experienced and what you see every day at work, I can't blame you, or even to judge you. One day my friend said that paranoia is sometimes just a healthy awareness of the situation. I laughed and told him he was crazy, and then mafia killed him. It transpired that he was pursued for years."

"Hotch, I don't have fear of death. Actually, I'm sure the first time in many years of my life I am ready, when it to knock on the door, I will let it to enter," It was a frightening sentence. Perhaps Reid wants to commit suicide?! He suffers from depression?! And why he is saying such horrible things? And how come it does not sound as from a young person maybe he is in a depression, but... No, these were the words of the old man. A man who had seen a lot and experienced. So that's what's bothering him, such an influence has the work of a young genius?! Something is terribly wrong with him, so much wrong! How did I not notice it, how can I call myself the profiler?! I was shocked. But my friend sighed loudly.

"Whatever I say anything, with each of my word it will sound worse. Sorry, I should have realized what you think of when you say something like that. Don't worry, I'm not going to commit suicide, nor unnecessary risk, ie not more than usual, or I am not suffering from depression. I just simply said, as it is. There are far worse things?" most people would have laughed. What could be worse than death? But Reid was right. I saw the real suffering of the victims, what did unknowns them, on own eyes. Jack's death would have been worse for me than my own. I had to agree, but that doesn't mean that troubled me how mature for his age but dark thoughts my colleague has.

There was a long silence. We both sipped coffee and I still furtively looked around the living room. Above all I researched the shelf with the moving sculptures.

"So what was the thing you actually wanted to talk about with me?" he finally asked.

"Dowd," I answered in one word. Reid frowned.

"I told you, I'm fine. I'm no crazier than normal. Don't worry about it. Anything unusual happened. In a situation like this one I already was. Believe me, the best thing you can do is to go to sleep with a clear conscience," He smiled at me kindly, but what he actually said? In what he was damned situation? Perhaps he had hurt somebody to save both himself and his? Than normal, than normal! Does he is fine?! Anything unusual happened! How can he ever say it!?

"Don't you know how it bothering me?" I protested slightly yet. Reid lifted the shirt to show me his belly and chest. The place where a few hours ago were terrible bruises has now been nicely spotlessly clean. It was impossible!

"I am absolutely fine," insisted the young genius at its and he put back down his shirt.

"But... but... how..." I shook my head in puzzlement. "Well, in that case, I must again congratulate great hit and don't make excuses that you're headed to his legs. I saw what you did. It was a great hit from a professional. You saved us, me and everyone."

"The man died, that's no reason to congratulations," reminded me, but before I could say something, he began to hunt something from his pocket. After a moment he took out my gun. How could it fit into such a small pocket? "Here, I don't want it."

"No," I said. "You mastered the test. You had a right, you should have something to defend and you showed me that you can handle it. Maybe better than I do. The hit wasn't luck, but unfortunately, neither fetus of my training session with you," I tried to persuade him.

"That's just it. My problem is not that I couldn't do it, but the hate for them. Today I killed a man. I did a thing I promised myself that it will be never happened. I have pledged to protect people, buy guns don't do it." Thing he promised that it would not happen. Why it sounds as if he's ever done before? Well if that is so, I don't doubt that it happened in self-defense. Why only now I realize how few I know about Reid?

"Sometimes it is not an option," I said. On the face of my colleague was replaced by sadness with anger.

"There is always the option! I understand that you perceive it, you're still young," I am young! What is he then? "It must be!" he whispered dully. "Do you realize how many people, how many intelligent beings throughout time and space died, just because of the hatred and the fact that they had something like this," He showed to the gun, which now lay on the coffee table between us. "How many sports are dealt with death, just because it was easier than looking for another, better way. How many wars and the slaughter, again and again," Young genius spoke with sadness, anger and disgust, as though at each of those incidents he were. "How many genocides? What horrors have been invented? War and weapons changes the people, even the most purest beings turns into monsters!" The last sentence he spat with special bitterness and he paused for a moment before he has continue. "Weapons are different. You can kill also with the profile. You can force people to commit suicide. This didn't make you are no better person, as someone with a gun, just smarter. Having a weapon means have fear others. You can become famous, all-powerful. You can be intimidating by just your mere name. Drive away the whole army only by mention of you, and then find out that life in the shadows, is a better, safer for your loved ones, and others." It seemed that Reid finished with a lecture and now he sadly staring into the cup. I could not say anything on it. He was right. He spoke in general, I could tell myself several times in Earth's history, which would support, but it was so special. He didn't talk as usual when we wanted to know the statistics, or something else. Was It indeed possible, that he speak of his experiences? It made sense to ask him? Would he say me about it? Probably not.

"Okay, I understand. But I'd be happier if you let it. Please, even if it will be just because I feel better," I said. Reid nodded slightly, but he didn't touch the gun.

"All war ends in negotiations. Why not negotiate before it begins?" - Nehrú Džavaharlár

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