Chapter Text
"She never made it off the table."
Reid paused for a moment.
Stood.
He had known this was a possibility- in fact he had known it was the likely outcome of the situation, but he couldn't have known what this would feel like before it happened.
He rushed forward towards the large doors of the hospital and brushed past JJ. He had hoped she would stop him, that someone would stop him, but they all let him go.
In his car, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white, he let out a sob. One after another, tears rolled down his cheeks onto the purple tie hanging nonchalantly around his neck. Gasping for air, he clawed at it and threw it to the side, then let his head fall between his hands on the wheel.
He stayed there for a long while, waiting for something to happen. Anything. He wanted to wake up from the nightmare, or for, by some miracle, Emily to come walking out of the doors and sit in the seat beside him. Let him know that she was all right with some snide remark.
When the doors of the hospital infront of him opened, he glanced up. The rest of his team was leaving the building, all of them red faced and puffy eyed. On noticing Reid’s car, they took gentle strides towards him but he quickly put the key into the ignition and pulled onto the gloomy streets of midnight.
In his apartment, early golden rays of sun seeping through the blinds made the rooms seem lonelier than ever. Spencer sat on his couch, head buried in hands. After a moment, he looked up across the room to a small set of wooden drawers. Inside the very top, two thumb-sized bottles of clear liquid sat, taunting Reid.
He shook his head, remembering his time after Tobias Hankle. It was so difficult to get his mind off of Dilaudid then, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like if he tried to quit in his current state. Spencer stood and walked into his bedroom where his sheets and comforter were neatly made up from a time when Emily wasn’t gone.
He quickly slipped his shoes and jacket off, and lay on the bed, eyes slowly drifting closed. As soon as his eyelids shut and darkness came, fragments of Emily getting placed into the ambulance, bleeding and half-conscious, flooded back into his mind.
He layed fully clothed in bed for hours, unable to calm his mind down enough to sleep. Tossing and turning only seemed to make his restlessness worse.
As light flooded through the crack under his door, it seemed to call Reid into his living room. He crossed to his couch where he once again sat and placed his head in his hands.
Why didn’t I just get rid of it? He asked himself, glancing at the collection of drawers across from him.
He could never bring himself to dispose of the bottles, just in case times like these rolled around, he supposed.
Reid stood and paced briefly, checked his cell phone in hopes of a case to distract him. Only a few texts from his team members checking in on him. Was he okay? How are they okay? He asked himself, and threw his cell back onto the counter.
He paced across his home several more times, reread a book or two from his bookshelf, then threw himself onto his couch. Spencer couldn’t seem to quite his mind for one second, and keep it from going back and forth between all the things that had happened to him in the past, the tragedies that have struck him now, and the growing dread for the future.
He continuously wiped the tears dripping out of his eyes, unable to stop them or exactly pinpoint the reason for them being there.
Just this once , he told himself as he quickly crossed to the wooden drawers on the opposite side of the room. The promise “once” floating around his head, knowing how easy it would be to break. He pulled the string to close his blinds and enveloped one of the small bottles into his palm. Searching his kitchen drawers and several other rooms for a needle, he refused to open his hand, as if to convince himself he wasn’t about to do what he was.
Finally laying eyes upon a syringe, he walked slowly back to his couch and sat. He thought about thinking this through but soon realized he couldn’t find any truly good reason to put the vile back into the drawer.
With a deep breath, Spencer tightly wrapped a neck tie around his upper arm until he could clearly see a blue vein protruding from the light skin.
Slowly the syringe filled with clear liquid and was carefully flicked and inspected for any air bubbles. It was if Reid couldn’t even feel himself going through the motions, and he quickly stuck the vein with the needle and pressed the fluid into his arm.
A cool, relaxing feeling crawled through Spencer’s skin, pressing his head into the couch and his feet further into the floor. His eyes fell shut and his mind sunk back into a daze of memories, icy white and red hot all at once.
A ring drifted harmoniously through Spencer’s living room, his eyes opening slowly. The midday light now seeping through his eyes seemed to shift colors gently, from light yellow, to pale blues and pinks, and back again.
The phone continued to ring, taking Reid away from the stunned state he was in. He blinked a few times as his phone chimed with a new voicemail. Spencer dropped his head back onto the couch and tried to float away once again, but his phone rang and chimed once more. He sat up and pressed his fingers into his eyes, trying to get rid of the spots floating around his vision. He looked around, his whereabouts beginning to unblur and a more steady thought process beginning to form in his mind. By the time his phone rang again, he was able to flip it open and fumble for the green button.
“Hey kid, I was just about to send JJ over to check on you. Is everything okay?”
“Mmm, yeah fine.” Reid mumbled, realizing his left hand had fallen asleep because of the tie knotted around his arm.
“Really?” Derek waited for a response as Reid tucked the phone between his neck and shoulder in order to unfasten the purple and white fabric. When he got no response, he continued, “Alright, well, we have a case. I’m sorry, I know a day isn’t much but the other teams are busy with their own cases and we’re all that’s left. Bad guys can’t just give us a rest.”
Reid nodded slowly, then froze, “Wait, a day?” He looked out the window at the sun high in the sky.
“Kid, Prentiss- uh-” Spencer could hear Derek trying to form the right words, “Two nights ago…”
“Right, yes, of course,” Reid shook his head and started looking around for his shoes before noticing that they were already on his feet.
“Can you get here in 20 minutes?” Derek paused, “Everyone would understand if you wanted to sit this one out… It’s gonna take a lot for any of us to be here, but we know you were clo-”
“No, of course I can make it.” Reid knew he needed a distraction and grabbed his coat from the foot of his bed. “See you in 20.”
Spencer hung up the phone and moved to slip it in his pocket but dropped it before making it in. He rubbed his eyes once again, and grabbed an old shirt dangling out of his dresser. In his bathroom, he studied himself in the mirror. The circles under his eyes were even more prominent than usual, his hair a mess on top of his head, with a dazed, sleepy expression on. He pressed down his hair and splashed cold water against his face, finishing with fastening the same tie he’d used the other night on his arm, around his neck.
Spencer’s eyes remained red and puffy but he appeared more awake and present than before. His ride on the subway seemed perfectly fine until the end, when he remembered how many germs he had just shared with the other passengers.
Arriving at the office 40 minutes after the call, Spencer slinked into the room filled with his fellow, red eyed coworkers, not receiving a second glance from any of them. Penelope blandly continued to recited the case, slowly flipping the images across the screen, and Hotch quietly let out a “Wheels up in 30.”
Spencer sat down at his desk and looked down to see a small blotch of blood on his tie from the needle prick, as well as a small, fresh scab on his arm just below his cuffed sleeves. He quickly slipped on his jacket and removed his tie, jamming it in his pocket. He looked around briskly, but everyone else remained in their dazed state.
Hand in pocket, Reid felt the small bottle next to his finger tips. Had he not put it back?
“Hey wonder boy,” Penelope whispered with a slight forced smile, and sat down across from Spencer, who pulled his hand out of his pocket and raised it in greeting. “How are you feeling?”
Reid shrugged and allowed himself the first deep breath since he had gotten the call that morning. Penelope nodded in understanding and patted his hand, then stood to go talk with the other members of the unit.
On the way to the jet, he fiddled with the vile in his pocket. He understood how bad it would be if he used again, but it seemed that Dilaudid made him the happiest he’s been in quite a while.
After a brief and somber brainstorm session, the team was assigned their respective tasks for once the plane landed in an hour. Reid was to head right to the police station and begin working on a geographical profile.
Through the plane ride, Spencer stared at the pages of a book, periodically flipping the pages but barely thinking about the words written on them. He couldn’t keep his mind from going back and forth between memories of Emily to the options he had regarding the clear liquid in his pocket. When he caught himself staring ahead of his book, he quickly looked around and turned the page, hoping no one saw him staring into space. No that they would blame him, as that seemed to be what everyone else was doing too.
When the team got back to land, Reid was escorted by Hotch, Morgan, and JJ into a black SUV provided by the local PD. The drive to the station was short, and they all walked confidently into the building not wanting to let on their grief.
“You must be Agent Hotchner,” A large man in uniform strided over to the quartet and held out a hand. “Officer Doges, this is SSA Morgan, Jareau, and Dr Spencer Reid.” They took turns shaking each others hands, apart from Reid who nodded curtly.
“Jareau, the families of the victims are right in that room,” Officer Doges directed her to a separate area, then walked the other three into the conference room where a board was set up for them. “This is all we’ve got so far, I’ll have someone bring in the case files.” He shook hands with everyone once again and walked out the door.
Morgan’s phone began to ring and he quickly pulled it open, “We’ll be right there.” Derek nodded at Hotch, “There’s another victim.”
“Reid, stay here, go over the case files and get started on the maps.” Hotch stood and they strode out of the room.
Spencer took another deep breath and leaned back in his chair.
“Hi! You must be Dr Reid?” A young, raven haired woman walked through the door, a stack of files in her arms.
“Yes, hi, that’s me,” Spencer stumbled over his words and stood with an awkward smile.
The woman chuckled and set the files down before extending an arm, “Detective Reynolds, but Emily is fine.” She smiled widely and her eyes crinkled the same way Prentiss’ did whenever she laughed. Reid swallowed and forced a smile before taking a file and beginning to flip through it. The lady dropped her hand and let out a disgruntled sound before stomping out of the room.
Spencer took a deep breath. He had hoped that working this case would help him keep his mind off of Emily’s death, as well as off of using again, but that didn’t seem like an option for him, and there seemed to be only one option left. He stood and asked a different officer where the restrooms were and locked himself in. He knew if he took a lesser dose the drug would cause a more euphoric effect, rather than a relaxed one.
Reid rummaged through the cabinet in search of a first aid kit. When he laid his hands upon one he selected a small syringe from inside and set it on the counter. He pulled the tie out of his pocket and once again knotted it above his elbow, then slowly filled the syringe with a smaller amount than he had previously. With a deep breath, Spencer sank the tip of the needle just under the older prick, into a protruding blue vein. Once all the liquid had been emptied from the syringe, a rush set through his body, up his spine and down to his toes.
He placed the needle into his pocket, along with the vile and tie. In the mirror he saw a different version of himself than the one he had seen that morning. He appeared crisper, more content, farther away from all the memories that wanted to haunt him.
Reid unlocked the door and stepped out, taking a breath of the stuffy air that flitted through the station. He felt like he could hear every noise around him- the ruffling of papers, the coffee machine making caffeinated beverages in the distance. Around him, everything seemed more vibrant than before, if only a little bit. He strode back into the conference room and read through all the case files, a bit slower than he normally would, as much as Reid hated to admit it. He knew that using opioid based drugs would slow his ability to function, and slow was not something Spencer was used to. All the same, he accepted that there were some things he’d have to sacrifice in order to divert himself from the past.
On the board, Reid began to work up a map of the UnSub’s comfort zone. With over 5 victims all nearby, it wasn’t difficult to see where this serial killer was most likely living.
As Spencer stuck his last pin into the map, the rest of the team walked through the door.
“Tell us what you know,” Hotch said, as he sat down, straightening his shirt.
“Although the victims were found at five different locations, the drop-sights form almost a perfect circle around this one neighborhood.” The words flew abruptly out of Spencer’s mouth, on the verge of being almost too jumbled to understand.
Taken aback, Derek cleared his throat, “Woah, kid, slow down,” He chuckled.
“Sorry,” Reid pushed some stray hairs behind his ear and pulled his lips into a smile.
“So what does that tell us?” JJ asked, reaching for one of the case files across the table.
“Most likely that the-” Reid caught himself tripping over his words again and took a deep breath, “Most likely that the UnSub lives within this neighborhood, although it may be that the neighborhood has some other sort of significance to him. Like where his family lives, or where he grew up.”
JJ eyed him slowly but when Reid sat down across from everyone else, she went back to looking at the file open in front of her.
The rest of the team sat in silence and reviewed all the case files in front of them.
“Alright, I think we’re ready to give the profile,” Hotch announced and walked out the door to tell everyone else in the station to meet them in the conference room.
The team helped line the floor with chairs to make sure the whole police department would be able to get a spot, and once every chair was taken, the BAU stood in front of them.
“We believe this killer is a male, mid to late 20s, with very severe OCD,” Derek projected through the room.
“Most likely living in, or frequently visiting Beach Wood neighborhood.” JJ continued, and the rest of the team went around delivering the profile.
When the speech was passed to Reid, he froze for a moment, realizing he had been spaced out for the entirety of the profile and didn’t know what had and hadn’t yet been covered.
“Reid,” Hotchner nodded in his direction and the team turned to look at him, along with everyone else in the room.
“Right, um…” Reid brushed the hair out of his face and began frantically flipping through the case file, hoping it would somehow reveal what he was supposed to say.
After a long silence only combated with the rustling of Spencer’s files, Derek came to his rescue. “Remember to stay cautious and aware at all times, we believe this UnSub is armed and very dangerous. He will not hesitate before shooting. Now, let’s go catch this son of a bitch.”
The officers in the room grunted in agreement and gradually began to leave the room. The team followed suit, but Hotchner called Reid to stay back. “I’d understand if you want to sit the rest of this one out.” He subtly scanned Spencer’s face, analyzing his frazzled expression and far off look. “And, if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“That’s alright, I’ll keep working.” Spencer tried to turn around and walk away, but Hotchner stopped him again.
“I’m going to rephrase.” He paused, for dramatic effect, Reid presumed. “Sit this one out.”
“No!” Reid spun back around to face a shocked Aaron. “I don’t need to ‘sit this one out’!” He taunted, “I need this. I need this case.”
“Spencer,” Hotchner stared at the young man, appalled. “I’m getting the jet set up to take you home. Now.”