[ the chord that quiet, simple offer strikes is one deeply buried, and the twang of it, like the snap of an untuned baliset string, stirs him. no, he doesn't want to talk. he has absolutely no desire to talk, and there is nothing to talk about. that is the first thought to occur to him, but he knows that latter bit to be false. there is so much that he has left unsaid, and with no one but himself to murmur to when he can steal away a dead, quiet moment, he has left it so.
he shuts a part of himself down, biting back a remark and stifling emotion, holding back his humanity, rising above it all as a machine rather than a man. this is not a thing that can afford his passion, his outbursts.
what is reid's motive? he is a criminal profiler. piter would be, by his standards, a criminal, and a dangerous one. ( "i pose no threat to you. i want nothing from you for my own gain." ) and yet reid has repeatedly claimed that he wants to "help." ( "it's a natural instinct to care about others, especially in the face of an outside threat." )
it could easily be a farce used to gather more information— reid works with the defense force; his desire would be to gather such information on dangerous individuals in order to protect the dome. where and to whom that information goes are unknown.
"why would it be so bad to trust me?"
piter stares back at reid as he thinks all of this over, slowly and methodically— and in the end, he says nothing.