Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

Author's Note: Happy Birthday Reid, you're thirty, but you're still the baby. xD

"The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of eternity."
- Unknown

Supervisory Special Agent Dr. Spencer Reid yawned heavily as he poured himself his third cup of sugar filled coffee.

He shuffled his missed-matched socked feet across the dark hard wood of his small apartment kitchen and sat down at one of the small table chairs, taking in the sweet smell of his favorite drink.

It was five o'clock in the morning; and usually he didn't get up that early, but today was different.

Today was the day.

Today was one of the three hundred and sixty-five and a half days in the year; it was one of the three hundred and sixty-five days in the year that held an individual importance to an individual person.

For some, it was the day they got accepted into college, had their first kiss, met the love of their life, an anniversary, the loss of someone they loved, the day they got their first pet or car or girlfriend… But for him – and about or more than five hundred million people in the world; he couldn't get the exact statistics, his mind was become more and more fickle as he day approached, and it would only get worse from there.

Today was the day that in two thousand and nine, President Barack Obama was awarded that Noble Peace Prize. It was today that in nineteen thirty-seven, King Alexander I of Yugoslavia was assassinated; the day that Google bought Youtube, the day that a retired New York tailor died of a Cerebral Hemorrhage that was brought on by the shock of getting a royal flush in a ten cent poker game.

Today was the day.

Today was his day.

His birthday.

The big three-O.

Normally, this would be about the age that someone would be eligible to join the BAU or any top department, but he had joined in his early twenties. And after all he had seen he felt like he was turning forty like the majority of his team, not forty. But it wasn't his age he was concerned about; he didn't care about getting old – for he would always be the baby of the team, no matter what.

He was concerned with what normally happened to people as they got older – being unmarried, getting wrinkles – it was the time. The age of thirty wasn't going to be a good year for him; he knew that, he just had to get through it.

Headaches, migraines, fuzziness, thoughts of drugs, sensitivity to light, sensitivity to loud noises, seeing a friend that was told was dead, walk through the conference room door saying that it was all a ruse and for just a minute there thinking that it had began…

'No,' Spencer shook his head, his eyes closed and scrunched up together, 'don't even think consider that. Emily's alive, really alive.'

Spence glanced down at his cold hands that were pressed against the sides of his mug for warmth; he was still wearing the rosy-day that Julio Ruiz gave him after he had saved him from Professor Hollis Walker Jr. in Miami. He never bothered to take it off. At first he didn't take it off as a sign of respect, and then he didn't because he simply forgot it was there and hadn't noticed it again until at the shooting range one day after Emily's fake death. He had been furious with it then; it had protected him and not her? Then he realized that he was blaming and talking to a bracelet that only held superstitious and spiritual meaning and no proved facts to a person's well being.

Now was not the time to be talking to inanimate objects.

He didn't want to end up like his mom. He would need to call her later, but right now was too early, for both time zones.

At work, no one had really mentioned his birthday. Morgan may have mentioned it in passing, Emily had not so smoothly asked him if his headaches were still around, and JJ had asked him to come over to see Henry. Then there was Garcia, with Emily being back she had been too excited to talk about it, but no doubt would have some over the top treat or hat for him to where when he got into office.

He wished he could have forgotten that his birthday had been coming, he wished he could have forgotten it completely – or that at least his team would. There were only three things he wanted for his birthday this year; one, not to develop schizophrenia or any other mental illness. Two, not being pestered with questions or worries or silly hats by his coworkers, and three, to have a case close enough that a plane wouldn't be necessary. He didn't think his head could take the pressure.

Reid took another sip of his coffee, letting the warm liquid tingle his lips as he watched the clock in front of him. It was five fifteen in the morning, and he didn't feel any better, only worse. He slowly became less and less groggy, his mind getting clearer –or as clear as it could be under the current circumstances. It just ultimately freed up his mind for dozens more of thoughts about how that he could easily turn into a mental patient.

He only had three hundred sixty-five and a half days until he would be thirty-one. When prime time would be over; when it would hopefully be over.

He couldn't let his team know of his worries, sure Emily knew of his headaches, JJ knew that he thought about taking drugs again, and Morgan knew some too, but the best way to hide is right under their nose. And maybe, just maybe, he would fall for his own ruse too.

Spencer sighed and took another swing from his mug of now cold coffer before getting up and pouring the rest down the sink. He then went over to his bedroom to get ready to a hopeful uneventful day of work.

"Sooner or later we all discover that the important moments in life are not the advertised ones, not the birthdays, the graduations, the weddings, not the great goals achieved. The real milestones are less prepossessing. They come to the door of memory unannounced, stray dogs that amble in, sniff around a bit and simply never leave. Our lives are measured by these."
- Susan B. Anthony

October 9th, 1981 - Spencer Reid.

So I get all excited that his birthday is coming up for the past couple of weeks and what do I do? I forget it on the day and don't remember until nine thirty. Great. So I hurry up and write this not too happy number.

Reviews = Happy Birthday Dr. Studmuffin :3

~ Sincerely MNM