video | un: s.reid

[doctoral]

Hi. I'm... Dr. Spencer Reid. At home, I work with the FBI as a behavioral analyst, or profiler. I'm trying to figure out what to... do with myself here.

[ Reid is a thin, young-looking man with too-wide eyes and nearly shoulder-length unkempt hair. That combined with the cardigan, tie, and lightly patterned button-up makes him look extremely dated. It's not hard to believe him as a federal employee by clothes alone, although his age is constantly remarked upon.

He doesn't sound uncertain about addressing the wider audience of the network-- although he is, and especially about using technology this way-- but he does sound like he's choosing his words with care, enunciating clearly and with even, unhurried pacing. ]

If there's anyone that currently works for the local police, I'd like to speak with you regarding whether you think there's a use for my skills in that environment. I have done field work, but I wouldn't say it's my strong suit. Otherwise I'm considering taking up teaching at the university. I've been a TA for undergraduate classes before, although I think I'm better suited to leading graduate-level seminars. If anyone currently takes classes there, it would be helpful to hear about your experiences.

... I also noticed they're looking for librarians at the public library. Uh. I don't think that alone would keep me... sufficiently occupied, but. I could do it.

I'd like to optimize my time here by putting my skills wherever they're most needed. So I'm open to other suggestions. And-- looking for a physical therapist. And possibly an orthopedist. Thank you.

[ It cuts off abruptly. Reid can do public speaking, but it's far from his favorite past time. ]

Comments

[gasping]

No, it does. I guess... slower? Or different? I don't know, to be honest, I didn't really ask.

( the one thing that caroline learned very quickly is that everything you think you know about vampires is complete bullshit. garlic is delicious, her heart definitely still beats, and she doesn't turn into a bat. though, one important distinction: as they approach the threshold to reid's apartment, caroline comes to a dead stop, a full six inches from the doorframe. )

You have to invite me in. ( which sounds extremely creepy, she realizes, but it's also very true. ) I can't — I mean, vampires can't. We can't enter into private homes without the explicit permission of the owner. Or person who lives there, I guess, in this case.

[doctoral]

[ Reid is actually relieved she has a heartbeat at all. That the basic laws of human physiology don't just mystically disappear is a comfort. There's so many inexplicable things going on with the people he meets here, that any glimpse of normalcy is reassuring to him as something to hold onto.

The transition period is just going to be kind of rough for him as a complete normal. ]

It's alright. I'm used to people who can kill me without needing an invitation. [ That's some upbeat morbid humor right there. You basically can't work Reid's job without some black humor once in a while. He's had actual coworkers and coworkers' families killed by home invasion before, and has had to come to terms with that reality long ago. A door isn't going to save him, and whether a vampire or a human kills him makes no difference to him. He just can't live in fear that way.

The incredulity of all the supernatural elements will take some getting used to, but the creepiness? Reid is right at home with that part. He gives Caroline a slight smile. ] I identify killers for a living. I'm fine with giving you permission.

[gasping]

( she wants to retort, to tell him that saying he's fine with it isn't exactly the same thing, but. well, the threshold doesn't reject her cautious step forward, so caroline can only shrug and follow him in, noting the conflict for later. it's one of those curious things that makes her wish she had someone more knowledgeable to compare notes with. stefan might know what it meant, but he's not here, so she'll have to make do. )

Okay. ( without the impending doom of near death as a propeller, it feels a little awkward to just dive right in. but that's sort of the thing, isn't it, that they're here for. ) Do you want to, I don't know, sit down? Get a glass of water to rinse your mouth out afterwards or something?

I can... get it ready, while you do that, if you want.

( if he doesn't want to watch her bare her teeth and expose blood in the process, anyway. if he does want to watch, he should just tell her. )

[doctoral]

[ Reid has been in Cadelle for less than a month, so his assigned apartment is bare as can be. The only traces of personality are the stacks of books and notepads neatly stacked around the apartment, and the stacks of cleaned coffee mugs beside the sink.

Reid pushes the door closed behind her, hesitating as he decides. ] Can I observe? [ he asks finally. ] I'd feel better if I watched the whole process. [ In a half-joke, ] Illusions of control are important to mental well-being.

[ And, frankly, he sees grosser on a regular basis. Speaking of. ]

You know, I actually helped catch an unsub-- unknown subject-- last year who sincerely thought they were a vampire and kept exsanguinating her victims. It's extremely weird to think of this as something I'm really doing.

[gasping]

( that's admittedly not the question she was expecting. it's not even close to it, actually, and she's momentarily stunned into contemplative silence before she manages to blink, shaking her head as if to clear the mess that's settled there. )

You... want to watch? I mean, I guess? ( she doesn't exactly have an issue with it. it's more the prospect of having to watch another person scream and freak out that makes her hesitant, but he doesn't seem like the kind of man who's likely to scream. or panic, for that matter. he's... well, spencer reid is remarkably calm. it almost freaks her out. ) Yeah, that's fine. It's totally fine.

( she should really just do this, before she loses her own nerve. )

Okay, but do me a favor and — don't scream?

( that said, caroline swallows; without the drive of bloodlust or the fuel of adrenaline pushing her on, there's little urgency to the transition. while her eyes darken and the veins beneath them begin to swell, the main difference is simply her teeth, two of which protrude sharp and dangerous as she flashes a tight smile before digging them into her own forearm.

give it a moment, spencer reid, and she'll hold said forearm out in his direction, a slow bubble of dark red blossoming where her mouth had been. )

[doctoral]

I won't scream, [ he promises, with a little quirk to his lips like the whole idea is funny. Then his humor vanishes because, well, he wasn't kidding about wanting to observe. Reid looks clinically interested, not quite fascinated but closely observing, exactly how he looks at the mutilated bodies he inspects in morgues or at crime scenes.

It's a grotesque thing, but it doesn't bother him. She looks extremely human still after the transition. To Reid, humanity is defined by emotion: the capacity for sympathy, regret, love. Caroline is no sociopath, so seeing her change and bite into her arm is just interesting, maybe a little morbid, but not alarming.

The him drinking blood part is the alarming bit, and when she holds her arm out he accordingly looks reluctant for the first time. But he's the one who'd gotten himself into this. Reid takes a deep breath and just gets this over with, setting his cane aside to prop against the wall-- maybe he won't need it again?-- and reaching out to take her arm with gentle, light fingers, the touch of someone who holds personal space as practically sacrosanct.

Hopefully he doesn't need to drink very much. He really does feel bizarre about it, like he's become one of the people they talk about around the conference table each week. Having to put his lips to her skin is the part of this he hadn't thought of ahead of time, which is stupid of him, honestly, and once confronted he has a long hesitation before pressing his lips to the well of blood and taking some in. He swallows compulsively, grimacing at the metallic taste, but takes two more mouthfuls before withdrawing, standing upright and wiping his mouth with his hand so he doesn't ruin his shirt with the blood smear, trying to steady his breathing.

The first thing he feels is just immense relief that she was right: it's not like being high. He hadn't realized part of him was still worried all his years of sobriety would be ruined by a foolish impulse. ]

[gasping]

( the benefit to caroline's own blood being exposed — as opposed to reid's, for example — is the control it gives her. if it had been his blood, she'd have needed to resist the urge to feed on it, to follow the bloodlust urges; though she was capable of doing so on a well-fed diet of hospital provided blood bags, the urges were still there. it's why she had a steady supply of kentucky bourbon floating in her veins at any given time — the alcohol helped to dull the urges, kept her feeling remarkably in control.

but her own blood doesn't quite urge her on in the same way. it's more an inconvenience, a mess she'll have to clean up once he's done. when he finally lifts his mouth away, caroline's quick to wipe her palm across the wound, watching with satisfaction as the holes seal themselves up, skin stitching itself together thanks to the aforementioned accelerated healing.

she's not entirely sure what the extent of his injuries are, but she knows that whatever is wrong should be helped. enough that he'll feel healthy, capable of standing on his own two feet — quite literally.

there's a minute's pause, long enough to watch him come to terms with what he's done, before caroline pipes back up again. )

How do you feel?

( he may be pleased to note that, in her silence, her features have slowly gone back to what passes for normal. the fangs and their accompaniments retracted, she looks remarkably human again. )

[doctoral]

[ Watching her seemingly magically wipe away her injury almost distracts Reid from what he's feeling. Almost. ]

Um. [ He pauses to self-assess, blinking quickly. ] Like I want to run a marathon. Which is not normal even when I'm not injured, [ he adds unnecessarily, flexing his knee and then shifting all of his weight onto it to test. His eyes widen at what he finds. ]

Wow. I know what you said, but there's hearing it and then there's-- I almost lost this leg, did I mention that? [ In short, yes, he was in more pain than he was letting on, as well as mentally forming a sort of hyper-protectiveness around the injury, afraid of exacerbating it and crashing his miracle recovery. Reid looks both relieved and incredulous and like he got a pure shot of adrenaline, as she'd warned, making him talk much faster and practically start bouncing on his heels. ] The entire knee joint disarticulated, and connective tissue and peripheral nerve regeneration takes an extraordinarily long time, I think you just jump-started me by fourteen weeks?