[CM] THE CASE

Our lives are shaped by the death of others. — Leonardo da Vinci

Reid made a simple breakfast for Griffith, because he didn't know if he was up or not, he hesitated at the door of the guest room and failed to knock.After thinking for a while, Reid took a book from the study and sat in the living room, sneaking glances at Griffith's door while flipping through the book.

Griffith slept until ten o'clock and was awakened by a nightmare.The strange room almost triggered his PTSD, and it took a while for a sporadic piece of reason to tell him that this was Reid's home.

his boyfriend.

... This statement is so strange.

Reid should have woken up, and Griffith knew that his face must be very ugly now.In order not to scare Reid, Griffith rested his left hand on his right wrist, silently counting his pulse, and only opened the door when the pulse dropped back to the normal range.

Reid dropped the book almost at the moment the door opened, and his voice was full of vigor: "Foster, good morning, do you want breakfast?" After speaking, he glanced at the time and immediately changed his words: "Or early lunch? I can have breakfast again Do a little."

Griffith glanced at him, expressionless: "Have you eaten?"

Reid was a little embarrassed: "No, I want to wait for you to eat together."

Griffith's steps seemed to pause, and then he said nonchalantly: "I got up late, next time if I do this again, you should eat first, starving for too long is not good for your health."

There is no separate bathroom in the room, and Griffith can't wash in the room. Reid followed him all the way to the door of the bathroom, and was locked out again, without thinking of how to answer.He even wondered a little aggrieved if he had done something wrong to make Griffith's attitude so indifferent.

Obviously when we had dinner last night, the atmosphere was quite harmonious.

His depressed mood didn't last long before he was interrupted by a phone call.

Griffith came out of the toilet, and Reid was still on the phone.He pointed to the kitchen through the glass of the balcony, mouthing to indicate that breakfast was in the oven. Griffith took the sandwich out of the oven and opened the refrigerator to take a look. The milk was still bought yesterday and had not been opened.

When Reid finished the phone call and entered the kitchen, he smelled a strange fragrance.

"what is this?"

Griffith bit the metal spoon and didn't look back. "Hot milk."

Reid recalled those posts that analyzed the living habits and dietary preferences of oriental people, and it seemed that there was indeed a preference for hot milk.

Really, weird and cute, it feels like raising a new species.

Reid hugged him curiously, chin resting on Griffith's shoulder, staring with him at the foaming white liquid.Griffith just froze at his approach, then quickly relaxed, to the sneaky relief of Reid, who was worried about being rejected.

After such a stalemate, the white foam suddenly surged up, and it was about to overflow the pot when Griffith was stunned.He hurriedly turned off the fire, but still failed to save the mess.

Reid didn't hold back, and laughed out loud.

Griffith couldn't blame Reid, he could only pour the milk into the bowl, and was looking for a rag, but Reid had already wiped it clean.

"Can I have a taste?" Reid looked enthusiastic.

Of course, Griffith thought it was probably the first time he drank hot milk, so he picked up the milk skin and said to him, "This is delicious."

Reid looked at the thin layer of white condensation, doubtful: "Really?"

Although he didn't taste anything, seeing Griffith's serious expression, he still nodded.

Griffith added a little sugar when boiling the milk, but the milky taste of hot milk was stronger than that of ice, Reid couldn't help frowning. Griffith has been paying attention to his expression, and naturally took this point of dissatisfaction into his eyes, and joked: "Don't you like it?"

Reid quickly said: "No, very..."

"It's normal not to like it, and I don't like iced milk either." Griffith interrupted him, "There's an iced glass outside, it's yours."

Reid went out limply.

Two people face each other, one drinks milk from a glass, and the other drinks milk from a glass bowl. Griffith couldn't last 3 minutes under Reid's trying to hide his small eyes, and cleared his throat: "Actually, James didn't know how to heat milk in the first place."

Reid was shocked, and his whole body was excited.

"He has always been used to drinking ice, and he gave me ice. But Asians are more or less lactose intolerant. My symptoms are relatively mild, and I just have diarrhea after drinking it." Griffith lowered his eyes, as if immersed in memories, "He doesn't know because he has to go to work and I stay at home and it will be ready by the time he comes back."

"A few weeks later, he found out that something was wrong when he was at home on vacation. I was very weak at that time, and he thought it was gastroenteritis, so scared he picked me up and ran to the hospital." Griffith seemed to smile, "There is nothing wrong with the physical examination, The doctor asked him what I had eaten in the morning, and James said it again, and the doctor said that it might be caused by ice milk, and asked him to drink it for me after warming it up, if it still didn’t work, then he couldn’t drink milk.”

At that time, he was still unable to communicate, like a little mute, he didn't feel anything about what he ate or any discomfort. Fortunately, a pair of warm and generous hands took over him.

Reid was stabbed by the phrase "the body is very weak": "So, you can only drink hot milk?"

Griffith thought for a while: "That's not true. In fact, many people have lactose intolerance, but some people drink milk since childhood, and their physical fitness has improved, and they will not have adverse reactions. It's okay if I drink ice now, but From a preference point of view, I prefer the hot ones."

Reid silently recorded this in his heart, and was about to say something when the phone rang again.

It was Hotch who called back.

Reid picked it up in front of Griffith, didn't talk a few words, his relaxed expression just now became solemn, and he also felt a little bit regretful.

"Is there a case?"

Reid nodded and tried to explain habitually: "There were three consecutive homicides in the Fifth District of Houston. The three victims were from different classes and all had their necks broken..."

Griffith frowned. "Breaking a neck doesn't sound like something normal people can do."

"Hotch didn't say much, and the details will be discussed at the meeting." Reid walked towards the bedroom while talking, and soon came out with a suitcase.Standing in the porch, realizing he wouldn't see Griffith for days, he gritted his teeth and rushed into the kitchen to kiss him—on the cheek.

Griffith looked at him blankly.

"I'll be back soon, I swear," Reid said seriously.

"Okay, little doctor." Griffith kissed him too, this time on the lips.

The tip of the warm tongue and the coolness of the lips were released immediately, and the part of Reid's brain that belonged to the case almost froze.

"You should go," Griffith said, straightening his collar.

Carrying the suitcase, Reid was glad for the first time that Griffith was no longer working with BAU. Otherwise, he might really not be able to concentrate on handling the case.

It took two days for Reid to leave.

Griffith never left the apartment.He lived a life with day and night upside down. Except for short sleeps and nightmares, he would use the ingredients in the kitchen to make some food to appease his hungry stomach, and then waited for sleep in a daze.

Two days later, he woke up from his sleep.

Someone is holding him.

Griffith was very confused when he first woke up, let alone woke up.Sensing someone behind him, the body attacked the brain one step ahead.Although his fighting was flying at a low altitude, he had received professional training anyway, Reid was hit by an elbow in the abdomen without any defense, and let out a muffled groan.

The weak pain called back to Griffith's sanity.He turned over and saw the people beside him clearly: "Spence?"

Reid didn't bother to hug him, and curled up into a ball, looking very pitiful.

"Are you back?" Griffith said nervously, "Are you all right? Let go and let me see."

Reid shook his head, his hair messed up on the pillow, showing a different softness.

"I'm fine," his voice choked up a bit, "I want to hug you."

Griffith hugged him like a child who did something wrong: "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you, I thought..."

Reid doesn't speak.He buried his head in Griffith's arms, feeling Griffith swallow the rest of the words, silently patting himself on the back.

—I thought it was Jason.

At three o'clock in the afternoon, the sunlight was once filtered by the curtains, making the brightness of the room warm and cozy - Griffith didn't like darkness, even at night, he would sleep with a night light on.When he was hospitalized before, Reid thought it was the doctor's request, but now it seems that Griffith probably applied for it himself.

It's PTSD.

In this case, a soldier with PTSD was stimulated by the noise of a construction site and thought he was still on the battlefield.In the end, in order to protect a child, he died under the gun of a sniper-he was a soldier who did not leave the battlefield.

Did Griffith fail to leave that basement, too?

Reid grabbed Griffith's pajamas, his heart was just under his fingertips, but it was guarded by layers of heart protection.

It took James a few weeks to find out that he was lactose intolerant, and if it wasn't for this case, how long would it have taken him to find out that Griffith couldn't sleep?

The author has something to say: The case is the No.17 episode of the second season, watch it once and cry again.He was really an excellent soldier, and it was only because he didn't get the right help that such a tragedy happened.In fact, death is also a kind of relief for him.

(When I finish all kinds of homework and look at the calendar, why is it June? What about my update?)