Reid was lucid much more often than he was not, and while he was, he understood his own condition acutely. When he had a rare episode, however, delusion and hallucination plagued him. Although adjustment of medication usually eased it, and after isolation was over he returned to the ward. 

He looked surprised to see Morgan waiting for him at the table where they played chess. He stared at him in confusion as he slipped into the seat opposite.

“I killed you,” Reid said surely. “I smashed your head against the wall twenty six times. You had a forked tongue and red eyes. You were going tear me apart.”

Morgan said nothing; he knew that as ridiculous it sounded, it had been utterly real to the other man.

“It was a hallucination,” Reid said. “I know it was a hallucination. I know it, but I still-” he faltered, eyes darting around uncomfortably.

“Hey,” Morgan said gently, sliding his hand across the table and offering it palm side up. “I’m here.”

Hesitantly, Reid put his fingers against Morgan’s palm, turning in a light circle, as if scared Morgan would disappear, he spread out his fingers over the man’s wrist, palms pressed together and fingertips on his pulse. When he felt it beat underhand he seemed to relax, nodding and pressing the information.

“I didn’t kill you.”

“No yet, pretty boy,” Morgan teased. Reid met his eyes again, a small smile on his mouth as he moved his pawn.