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Chapter summary: Hibiscus amongst other things. Reid in trouble (again). Salvation (yet again). More madness (yet again). Have I mentioned madness? Forget madness, it's Madness. Also if Reid's behavior further in the chapter seems like out of character I do have an explanation for that (at the bottom of the page).
Chapter fourteen: Hibiscus.
He admired in flowers their delicacy he saw when they bloomed. Their stubbornness to sprout from a tiny seed through the layer of soil, to climb up towards the sun. Their innocence, their fragrance, their fragility.
He loved flowers. That's why in spite of his germophobia when he could devote some time to his garden, especially in the spring he was deliriously happy.
He admired lilies, irises, hyacinths, daffodils, narcissus. One year on purpose he even spilled a pack of poppy seeds by the west wall and spend the summer observing poppy flowers taking over his garden. There was no hidden meaning, no desire for opioids. Just the bold redness of the poppy flowers and their delicacy he could admire from his porch.
Inside the house the only flower that lived was a cactus and violets because of their iron will to outlive both the cactus and their owner.
He loved all flowers but he hated hibiscus.
He really, really hated hibiscus.
Depending from the country the meaning of hibiscus varied. For example giving someone a hibiscus flower meant that you were wishing them a nice summer. In Victorian meaning it had one simple translation, delicate beauty. But in Hawaii hibiscus was not only the state flower but it had deeper meaning, old royalty, it's great power and respect that came from it. In Japanese hanakotoba it meant gentle, a simple flower you could give anyone without any hidden meaning.
Nice summer, delicate beauty, old royalty and gentleness aside for Spencer Reid hibiscus flower had one major meaning that trampled over other four.
The meaning was: hellish allergy.
When it came to plants he had two things he tried to avoid like a plague. Spinach and hibiscus. First on principals of hating the green disgust. The second on the grounds of the most peculiar allergic reaction ever.
He could drink hibiscus tea without dropping dead due to severe allergic reaction to hibiscus itself. Quite in contrary he could drink unhealthy amounts of hibiscus tea and he wouldn't even sneeze. But when it came to flower itself…
… when it came to blooming hibiscus flower his eyes started watering to the point when he wasn't able to see anything, his already poor eyesight aside, he got a runny nose that made him feel like he suffered from the worst cold ever and he always ended sneezing his lungs out.
Long time ago he learned to avoid National Botanical Garden like a plague not because other issues other than the allergy and because NBG was selling insane amount of potted hibiscus because under their care the flowers grew like crazy which meant that everytime Spencer Reid wandered to NBG he ended sneezing and almost blind for the better part of the trip.
Normally it wouldn't be a problem if it was just him. Because then he could plant his butt on the first bench that was far away enough from hibiscus to recover from allergic reaction.
However in company of his Mum and ten kids sitting down was impossible in the exact definition of the word.
For starters Rose and Linda lost their grasp on the stroller and made a beeline to ever flower on their path and once they wandered off Jack proclaimed that it was the highest time for him to 'do some walking on his own' and once those three had wandered off so did the older four and remaining three started getting fussy.
So in the end he was stuck with ten kids running around as they wanted and he was still as blind as a bat. But a decent bat had echolocation and his echolocation was nonexistent.
Twice his Mum had to stop him from grabbing a random kid on his path which in one way or the other bore some resemblance to either of the ten. Third time she wasn't fast enough.
"Jack," he gasped out.
"I'm not Jack," the boy proclaimed. "But I can be Jack if you will help me to find my mummy," the kid added hopefully.
"Where is your mummy?" Reid asked patiently.
"Mrs Benign said that my mummy is underground," the boy declared.
"And what's your full name?" Reid sighed,
"Bobby," the boy said. "Robertson."
"Did you come here on your own?" Reid asked, even if he knew that no kid should sneak past the line.
"Yes," Bobby said swiftly.
Robert Robertson. Someone really hated the kid.
He dialed Garcia and didn't have to wait long for an answer.
"Garcia, I need you to look up Robert Robertson, in variations, possibly in concern to Mrs Benign," he said quickly. "Fast would be welcomed."
"Where have you gone, Boy Wonder?" Garcia asked sweetly. "And why you need Robert Robertson."
"National Botanical Garden," Reid answered. "I found him, he seems to be all on his own."
"Hibiscus?" Garcia asked sympathetically. "How old is he?"
"He comes in Jack size," Reid answered. "I say somewhere between four and six. I would tell you more once I would be able to see better. And the factory isn't working anymore."
"Factory?" Garcia asked skeptically. "I thought that you sniffed hibiscus not…"
"I sniffed hibiscus but I wasn't the only one," Reid added pointedly. "Something recent if it narrows your search."
"Oh, you mean that, Cupcake," Garcia said swiftly. "One Bobby Robertson, aged four to six, recently orphaned by his mother coming in…" there was a longer pause and then, "Nada, zilch. No Bobby Robertsons in any variations. In fact only Robert Robertson in big DC pool is a dead owner of a flowershop."
"What's Mrs Benign name, Bobby?" Reid asked as he wiped his eyes a bit.
"Mrs Benign," Bobby said simply. "She doesn't have any other name."
"I heard that," Garcia quipped. "One Mrs Benign coming…"
WHAM! Something smashed into his head.
"You! You! You…" a screech tore over his head when something smashed into his head repeatedly.
"Can I kindly point out that it's federal agent you are assaulting Mrs Benign?" Molly asked innocently. "Do you think that Mr Robertson would like to learn that during the walk you not only insulted the memory of his son's mother but also assaulted federal agent off duty when said federal agent was trying to help your son."
"Federal-schmederal!" the woman screeched. "You will release the boy at once!" the woman huffed.
It was quite a normal reaction except Reid let go off the boy as soon as he realized that Bobby wasn't Jack.
"My name is Molly Hannah Berkeley. I want to report an assault on a federal agent at National Botanical Garden. The attacker in question is named Mrs Benign, she is the nanny of Robert 'Bobby' Robertson. I assume that it's big money and she doesn't look exactly sober. The agent in question is Supervisory Special Agent Doctor Spencer Aaron William Reid from Behavioral Analysis Unit from Federal Bureau of Investigation. He would be calling himself if he wasn't assaulted and other than that temporarily handicapped by allergic reaction…" he heard Molly's voice. "Thank you, Mrs Sanchez, I will be eagerly awaiting the officers. Oh, look who's coming. That was fast."
Mrs Benign stopped whacking him with what he assumed was an umbrella or a walking stick (he didn't try to concentrate on what it was rather on how to avoid it).
"Mr Robertson," Molly said sweetly. "Why your drunk employee is hitting federal agent repeatedly?"
"Mrs Beingn stop it right now," came a snort. "Federal agent, huh?"
Huh quickly changed to repeated 'I'm terribly sorry Mr Reid' as soon as Reid managed to fish out his credentials and mutter something about psychopathic nannies. It took him another five minutes to get the Robertsons lost by saying that he won't be pressing charges as long as they would let him enjoy the day with his nephews and nieces in peace (not that it was a technical lie).
He however ended pitting the boy and the adventure was widely commented by his companions shortly after Reid regained minimal ability to see the kids.
"So what's the profile for that?" Dale asked curiously.
"My Mum would say, liver transplant in near future," Molly quipped.
"Whatever floats Mr Robertson's boat," his Mum commented. "Could be Oedipus complex."
"Mum!" Reid groaned. "There are children in here."
"Which means that in spite of your IQ and proclaimed title of a provable genius you are quite ready to go along with storks and cabbages," Chip snorted. "How ignorant…"
"So in what you believe, Chipmunk?" Reid snorted.
"The miracle of love," Chip quipped.
"I have a younger sister," Zack added.
"And I have bad memories," Jack added. "Of mummy and Frank. I walked on them once, there was loud before, later it was not."
"Mummy was seeing Uncle Milo for a longer while," Rose added.
"Without clothes," Linda murmured.
"Great," Reid groaned. "Now we can all go to a therapy."
"You are making a big deal of something which isn't a big deal, Spencer," his Mum said simply.
"He is just assuming," Dale said simply. "And everybody knows what assuming means."
"My school might not cover reproduction but I'm the oldest from three," Molly said pointedly. "Stop blushing, it's not that you have reasons for it."
"You are annoying," Reid muttered.
"You work in Virginia," Chip snickered.
"I hate you, Chipmunk," Reid groaned.
"Foreshadowing?" Dale asked innocently.
"Chip! Dale!" Reid barked. "If you don't stop now I will give you a risky rescue… I'm not a blushing virgin!"
"Date please," Chip snickered.
"You are as bad as Sammy and Danny," Reid snorted. "1st April 2011."
"Cynthia is three and half," Dale quipped.
"Ever heard of sarcasm?" Reid asked pointedly. "It's not your business, Dalliance."
"If you say so," Dale shrugged.
"Great, now that we established it can you find another topic of the conversation? One that won't end with a serious therapy," Reid asked.
"There are ridiculous therapies?" Zack asked innocently.
Famous Last Words
Luckily for him, not that he believed in luck, he believed in odds and these were actually in his favor he managed to make it through one hundred and ten minutes of recalling his knowledge of biology in the most bizarre aspects.
Odds seemed to still be in his favor when they were leaving the garden too because he hadn't encounter even a single hibiscus on his path back to the gates.
Odds were also still working in his favor because in spite of stressful situation his Mum didn't suffer from an episode, yet.
In fact, from the two of them she was the one who seemed to enjoy the whole outing more. She basked in the attention she received from the kids as she regaled them with Arthurian legends and the legends itself worked better than a leash when it came to keeping whole ten in very close vicinity.
By the time Arthur pulled Excalibur from the stone Cynthia, Henry and Rory dozed off. Rose and Linda didn't but they weren't exactly in a position to doze off seeing that on their were out the twins managed to wrestle stroller ride on a blanket covered footrests.
Somehow the stroller was surviving additional weight and so was Reid because Jack was greatly partial to piggy back.
Reid himself was partial to coffee… in tank size and therefore after nearly an hour since they left NBG he ordered mammoth sized chocolate cappuccino at Georgetown Café where he managed to round the whole munch in relatively close proximity to his home without having to enter the black hole that his house was at the moment.
Molly, Chip, Dale, Zack, Jack, Rose and Linda eagerly succumbed to demolishing vanilla sundae and blessedly Henry, Cynthia and Rory were still sleeping (and in case they would wake up Reid knew how to appease them).
So while the conversation at 'kid' table drifted towards cartoons and general scheming Reid found himself partially deaf to the later and momentarily disinterested in the former because of greater schemer than aforementioned seven combined in the form of his Mum who was calmly sipping her hot chocolate and acting as if she just didn't drop a nuclear bomb on him.
It was a nuclear bomb in the form of a simple statement.
"Virginia has psychiatric hospitals."
And because his mind supplied him with data in question before his common sense stopped him from opening his mouth he said swiftly, "Two within twenty miles."
"Are they any good?" his Mum asked simply.
On that question he managed to keep his mouth shut from going into government reports and statistics.
"Tina said that Doctor Cameron is a psychiatrist," his Mum continued. "I'm sure that she can point a good one."
She certainly would if asked, not that Reid was planning to ask her.
"You know the staff at Bennington, Mum," he said calmly.
"I do," she agreed. "So what?"
"You never had problems with Bennington before," Reid said pointedly.
"I didn't have a granddaughter before either," she shrugged. "And I would like to see her more than twice in a year."
That was a blow below the belt.
"Mum…" he started.
"Don't you dare to feel guilty, Spencer," she rolled her eyes. "Mother always knows. Don't think that I wasn't angry, I was. We know that I won't miraculously recover. I know that I need medication and you need to live your life, on your own. I'm not asking for removal from the hospital. I'm asking for the change of thereof."
"What about your friends at Bennington?" Reid asked patiently.
"Doctor Norman? Nurse Tracy? Catatonic Lucy?" his Mum asked. "I can always write them. Tony most probably would love to read about snow. I do have all of your letters, I remember that one of them holds a very detailed account of you trying to ice skate and landing in a pile of snow which means that it snows in Virginia and I would love to see white Christmas for once, see the change in scenery rather than simply feel that it's getting slightly colder."
"I strongly suggest pouting, Diana," said a small blonde haired woman. "Works on my daughter splendidly."
"The blonde one?" his Mum asked curiously.
"You know one another?" Reid asked skeptically.
"Cynthia, post-scripted," the woman introduced herself.
"Post-scripted?" Reid asked curiously.
"Term of endearment, my grandson found it. So he came with post-scripted, de-scripted, cast-scripted and mix-scripted," Cynthia said swiftly. "Forging the signature works fairly well too," she added as she looked at his Mum. "I wonder how long it will take Bennington to figure out the rouse."
"What's your last name Cynthia?" Reid asked cautiously.
"Not that fast, Sweetness," the woman smiled. "You have a cute son, Diana. But a bit too curious."
"A bit too stubborn too," his Mum added. "You were saying Cynthia? Something about forging the signature."
"How do you think I got myself out?" Cynthia asked simply. "Mother's place is by the family. All my family is in DC so I should be in DC… or Virginia depending from the hospital. My Baby Boy was watching prospects with me, he had two suggestions he weaseled out from my Angel… Imagine two years of nagging and coming with nothing. It became mildly frustrating."
"And how did you get there?" his Mum asked curiously.
"Plane, I love flying, I know that it's a bit unconventional but I can't help it, I love it. I was flying since I was very little and the script didn't take it. The buses are confusing though. I know that I should be heading towards the hospital but not really."
"Hospital might be good idea," Reid interjected.
"Sweet, but I have my medication and I need to scare my youngling before I won't try to run away again. My family has a perchance on putting things on the edge of the knife and waiting for the other shoe to drop," Cynthia shrugged. "But you can help me with the address if you want to help."
"I would love to," Reid said quickly.
"Not so fast," Cynthia smirked. "Diana told me that you are a smart boy and I know that smartness is hereditary. Try to not protest."
"I'm not protesting," Reid objected. "I'm trying to point out the amount of change…"
"…by providing counterarguments to what I'm saying," his Mum finished.
"Doctors, rooms, medication, friends, stability," Reid counted out.
"Psychiatrist are everywhere, especially in big cities," his Mum said.
"All rooms have four walls, door and an occasional window," Cynthia added.
"Doctors have medication," his Mum said swiftly.
"And no one forbids anyone from making new friends," Cynthia quipped.
"As for stability…" his Mum sighed. "Knowing that I can see you and Cynthia more than twice a year is more than stability."
"Point taken, besides after a while Vegas gets dull, especially when you can't get out and lose some money," Cynthia shrugged. "Big J used to take me to casinos, he was a hell of a player."
"So you said," his Mum smiled. "How much?"
"Apparently enough to make doctors from our daughters and save some for our grandson," Cynthia nodded. "Not to mention the expenses on the hospital. Oh, and that's a good point Diana. Hospitals in Virginia are cheaper than Vegas and in smaller ones you get better care."
"What kind of doctors?" Reid asked hoping to direct the conversation to the surname so he could call Bennington which in return will call Cynthia's relative.
"Good ones," Cynthia quipped.
"I was asking for specialty, I need a good pediatrician," he said quickly.
"Then you will need to look harder because mine dots hadn't went into pediatric medicine," Cynthia shrugged.
"Can I ask for specifics?" Reid changed the tactic.
"You can but it doesn't mean that I'm going to answer," Cynthia said simply.
"He is a federal agent remember," his Mum smiled.
"You mentioned it once or twice," Cynthia shrugged. "Good cop, bad cop, wise cop, stupid cop. I know all of your tricks Sweetie and I'm not going to succumb to any of your hooks. Concentrate on your Mum while I will remain maddeningly unhelpful."
"I'm a federal agent," Reid stated.
"Cute," Cynthia quipped. "Does it bother you Diana?"
"Not as much as it used too," his Mum shrugged. "He maneuvered himself into a corner, Cynthia. If he will say that he works for government because the bureau is federal then he risks upsetting me just as much as upsetting you."
"However his goal is getting my surname out of me so he can call Bennington which in return will call my daughter to inform her that her mommy dearest had done a runner," Cynthia said simply.
That it took him this long to figure out what to do meant only that he was completely exhausted physically and quite shaken mentally to not think of it sooner.
It was just this simple. Call Bennington and ask for a blonde haired patient named Cynthia who left the hospital on forged permission. Seriously how many paranoid schizophrenics fit that description?
"You are in trouble," his Mum said to Cynthia.
"I know," Cynthia shrugged. "But it was entertaining nevertheless. Ding dong, he is going to call Bennington."
"How do you know that?" Reid asked skeptically.
"Sweetie I brought up three kids before I ended in hospital," Cynthia said sweetly. "Besides your ability to cover dawning realization needs tuning to less obvious level."
Reid shook his head and was already dialing Bennington and Doctor Norman.
"Can I ask you for a favor, Doctor Norman?" Reid asked calmly. "I'm sitting at a café in DC, my mother is with me and we run into one of her fellow patients from Bennington. During the conversation I learned that said patient didn't leave the hospital legally…"
"Mere technicalities," Cynthia quipped.
"She is about five foot four inches tall. Blonde. Identified herself as post-scripted. Is named Cynthia and refuses to give her last name. She left the hospital within last twenty-four hours," Reid continued.
"She is not one of mine patients but post-scripted part I heard before," Doctor Norman said. "One of my colleagues has several schizophrenics in new wing and scripted is running term of endearment there."
"I would be eagerly awaiting your call," Reid said before he hung up and smiled at both his Mum and Cynthia, "More hot chocolate?"
"You are stalling and avoiding," his Mum shook her head.
"Attempting to stall and avoid," Cynthia smirked.
"There is a difference?" Molly asked curiously.
"Success my munchkin," Cynthia said simply. "Yours?" she looked at Reid curiously.
"One yes, others I'm babysitting," Reid confirmed. "So for the rest of the day they are technically mine."
His phone rang and he quickly picked the call.
"Reid," he said.
"How is your day?" Cameron asked quickly. "Because mine sucks."
"I'm sorry to hear that," he said sympathetically. "It gets better."
"No, it doesn't," Cameron muttered. "Did you know that schizophrenia is genetically passed?"
"Are we playing ask a random question to which we both know the answer?" Reid asked skeptically.
"No," Cameron snorted. "We are playing in: your case of weekend bad luck is infectious and somehow I got infected. I seriously need to clone myself so one me can head to CG and deal with Chicago crap while the other one will turn around and board a return flight to DC five minutes after I got off the plane, the third me will go to Orlando and the fourth me will lock herself up in a padded room."
"Did something happened?" Reid asked quickly.
"Nothing really," Cameron huffed. "My narcissistic sister had done something utterly stupid and someone needs to take care of her newborn daughter. My son broke an arm within ten minutes of stepping into amusement park and is now in surgery. My mother pulled a runner. But hey I'm a psychiatrist I deal with insanity on daily basis. For the record I'm reporting Reidis Badluckis to CDC…"
"There is no infectious diseases with that name," Reid pointed out.
"Try to think in positives, your family is in one place and in one piece," Cameron snorted. "I didn't get any call concerning Ruby if it makes your day get better."
"Perhaps I can help?" he offered.
"You already did," Cameron muttered. "I just needed to blow off some steam and the alternative was hitting someone and spending the night in jail. I'm sorry that it had to be you."
"You welcome," Reid sighed. "Reidis Badluckis?"
"Sounds better than Shit Magnet for Geniuses Deluxe," Cameron quipped. "Either way it's contagious and it needs to be reported. Additionally public awareness needs to be increased."
"I will see what I can do about the t-shirts," Reid smirked. "Do you think it's curable?"
"I only know that it's contagious," Cameron deadpanned. "Either way, bye, I need to go."
"Reidis Badluckis?" his Mum asked curiously after he hung up.
"Bad luck is contagious, Mum," Reid said simply.
"It sounds like misery likes company," Cynthia said. "You are still avoiding the answer."
"I'm not the only one, you still refuse to give your name," Reid pointed out. "First letter perhaps."
"All you need to know, Sweetie, is that it's contained in my name too, you have seven possibilities, keep on trying," Cynthia shrugged.
"You didn't have to tell him that. Now he won't rest until he will find out," his Mum said with small smile as she winked at him.
"I can also tell him that my surname has exactly the same number of letters as my name and three of them repeat in my surname and it still gets him nowhere," Cynthia smirked.
"It's the first letter a vowel?" Reid asked.
"Nope," Cynthia quipped. "You are down to four possibilities and you are still nowhere."
"So it's a riddle?" Molly asked eagerly. "C, N, T, H. Come on, let's work on this," she turned to the other kids.
"You are unable to resist temptation," his Mum smiled.
"I can, I have Enigma," Reid shrugged as he motioned at the kids.
"Yet you are forgetting that your Enigma is completely bribable," Cynthia quipped. "I will buy the one who guess correctly triple Delicious Chocolate special and the rest Vanilla sundae in appreciation for the efforts."
"I will make it quadruple if you tell me," Reid said dryly.
"Your son is a poker player, Diana," Cynthia smirked.
"He is from Vegas, Cynthia," his Mum smirked. "That and he cheats."
"I don't!" Reid protested. "Poker it's mathematics, it's statistics… I have a doctorate in mathematics, I can't help calculating odds."
"Where I'm coming from we call it counting cards, socially acceptable term for cheating," Cynthia shrugged. "My oldest specialized in it and she bribed my youngest and my grandson. Playing with them is like playing casino, kind of pointless if you think about it harder."
"Do you want to play?" Reid offered.
"And the bargain is revealing my surname, right?" Cynthia said simply. "No way, Cuteness."
"I can see how you were able to bring up three kids," his Mum smiled.
"Kids are easily distracted," Cynthia shrugged. "All you have to do is to focus their attention elsewhere. My middle one was easily distracted, the oldest and youngest were harder to fool until the oldest became de-scripted. She got the worst combination of genes in the family. Both schizophrenia and Wilson's disease in neuropsychiatric form. Now that's a shit magnet if you ask me."
"And her son?" Reid asked pensively.
"Is fine for now," Cynthia said simply. "Stop interrogating me, Sweetie. You are getting too far away from initial subject at hand which is your Mum."
"I'm just admiring your ability to thwart his efforts," his Mum smiled. "Are you stumped already, Spencer?"
"Not really," Reid shrugged. "With patience one can achieve more than with force," he smirked.
"The more I talk the more ammunition you get," Cynthia nodded. "Not much of an arsenal if you ask me but I cannot help but admire your persistence, Spencer."
Suddenly Molly stood up, approached Cynthia and whispered something into her ear.
"You will get quadruple delicious chocolate and the rest of them will get a triple one if you won't breath a word about it to him," she motioned at Reid with her hand, "for next two months."
"Oh come on," Reid snorted. "I raise to two triple delicious chocolate per head."
"It's not a matter of a bribe, Sawyer," Dale quipped. "It's a matter of principles. Your Enigma is going on strike and nothing is more funnier than knowing something which you don't."
Stumped again, he snorted inwardly. But there was another way of achieving the goal. Getting his hands on the pills.
"Can I see your medication, Cynthia?" he asked calmly.
"No, you can't," Cynthia said simply. "It's very shy and it doesn't like strangers."
"I'm not a stranger," Reid pointed out. "Or didn't you spend last half of hour at talking with me."
"Nice one," Cynthia quipped as she handed the money for ice-cream to Molly. "You can try to figure it out if you want but it still won't change the facts. My daughter always that the only more pointless thing than arguing with stubborn paranoid schizophrenic is beating the flies with a Cadillac. Come to think about it it's also an answer to your problem. I've got to go, my chariot awaits me, places to be, psychs to drive crazy…"
With that she stood up and left.
"She has a point, you know Spencer," his Mum said simply. "Stop protesting and just succumb."
"You aren't going to drop it?" Reid sighed.
"No," his Mum shook her head.
"I will think about it," Reid rubbed his temples. "Once I will get a moment of peace and by moment I mean an hour at the minimum. I'm not promising anything."
The smirk and wink she gave him indicated that his Mum though better than that. He knew that he was stumped. He could feel it in his bones.
He really pissed some deity recently. If only he could remember which one…
Like it? Hate it? Let me know.
Next chapter: The return to the Black Hole also known as Reid's house, few confrontations, more madness. Reidis Badluckis will bite again
Reid is a genius. But let's recount to what he was subjected in a matter of forty-eight hours:
Baby-sitting four kids on demand, three of which he'd meet for the very first time. Three hours drive with dubious performance of nursery rhymes by The Berkeley-Hotchner Howling Band, with and without Henry LaMontagne and Whining Alsatian Named Clooney. In between he was verbally attacked by a well-meaning old lady and later by less well-meaning veteran. Then he was subjected to Tornado Named Clooney and the hit of puberty in the oldest, not something FBI agents are prepared, especially single, male ones.
Next day he was shot in both arms with the same bullet, was subjected repeatedly to verbal jabs and his ability to handle the kids was questioned. In zoo he was defeated by gravity, run by tandem stroller (with cargo), preyed by desperate women. Then he was subjected to the horror of his extended family. Additionally he was subjected to spinach and he had to eat it by under the pressure. Then he learned that he was a father (which is more than enough to shake up a man who was taking counter-measures to it), in shock he informed his extended family (the part he was actually fond off), got subjected to the visit he wasn't prepared for on any ground). He also faced his father and that seemed to be the crowning jewel.
Next day he was subjected not exactly in that order to: his cousins, Garcia, Morgan, being physically assaulted, being tied up to the beanpole, realization that his finances landed in serious negatives, being chased out of his house and home (more or less in order to protect his sanity). He was also subjected to schemers, his ability to handle the kids, losing aforementioned in metro, getting into botanical garden, severe allergy, angry, drunk and armed nannies and nuclear bomb of negotiating with his mum (and come to think about it Reid is stubborn and stubbornness runs in the family), toping it with extremely unhelpful intruder.
After a weekend of this kind chasing serial killers seems like a walk in the park. He was also right about patience because the more Cynthia would talk the more he would know, she just didn't chose to stay long enough for him to figure it out (at least in this chapter).
Don't worry, he is going to use his brain for thinking, once he will shift the responsibility of watching the kids and his mum on someone else.