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It was 2:17am when Rossi was pulled abruptly from his sleep by the shrill ringing of his work phone. He was used to getting calls from Emily at all hours of the night when there was an urgent case that couldn’t wait until morning, but it never got any easier. He yawned, rolling over in his bed to reach the phone and wiping the sleep from his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness. But when he glanced at the screen, it wasn’t Emily’s name as he was expecting. It was Luke’s.
“Hello?” he answered, his voice laced with worry. Of course, he had his fair share of personal phone calls from the rest of the team but never at a time like this. He immediately sensed that something was very wrong, Luke wouldn’t be calling otherwise.
There was a short pause, saturated with silence and for a second Rossi wondered if he had dialled by mistake.
“Rossi?” Luke finally replied, his voice soft, almost like a whisper. He sounded far away, as if his mind was somewhere else entirely.
“Luke…”
“I…I…” his voice cracked as he stuttered, trying to find the words he needed. He gave up with a sigh.
Krystall looked over at Rossi, her face etched with concern.
“Is everything okay?” she mouthed, and Rossi just gently shook his head.
“Dave… I need you.” Those were all he could manage to say before he began to sob, the sound permeating through every part of Rossi’s being. With those three words he was already out of bed and searching blindly for his clothes.
“Luke, don’t worry. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
When Rossi reached Luke’s apartment it felt like an eternity until he was buzzed in and made his way up to the 3rd floor. On the drive over his mind had been racing, not knowing what was going on he could only imagine the worst. But he still had no idea what could have gotten Luke into such a state. Finally, he reached Luke’s door. He knocked softly, and when there was no reply he pushed the handle down, finding it already unlocked.
He entered straight into the kitchen, taking in the scene around him as quickly and accurately as possible.
Luke was a mess. Rossi could almost feel the anxiety seeping out of him and dissipating into the air around them. He was almost hyperventilating, and tear tracks were fresh on his cheeks. He looked exhausted and dishevelled, his hair all over the place and eyes wide as he paced back and forth behind the counter. There was a crumpled photograph sitting on it, and further inspection revealed it to be of Phil and Luke during their army days. Rossi was hit with the sudden realisation that it had been one year since Phil had been murdered. He also spotted a smashed glass on the floor by the sink and an untouched bottle of vodka drew his attention. It was like a bomb sitting waiting to go off.
It only took a matter of seconds for Rossi to deduce what was going on. He was a profiler after all, and he knew the signs of alcohol addiction. He had seen Erin suffer through it up close.
Before he said anything he strode over to Luke and enveloped him in a tight hug. Luke visibly relaxed, returning the gesture and almost crushing Rossi in the process. His breathing slowed as he calmed down, his sobs subsiding like a receding tide.
“It’s okay, I’m here,” Rossi reassured, letting the other man ease into the comfort. After a moment, Luke pulled away. Now he had a different look on his face. He knew that Rossi understood the situation he was in, and he was ashamed.
“Help me.” Luke was no longer pacing but seemed ready to bolt at any second.
“Luke, do you have a sponsor? I can call them for you?”
“Please, don’t. I was going to call her, but I don’t want to do this alone anymore Dave. I can’t.”
Rossi had never seen him look so lost before.
“Okay, what do you want?”
Luke glanced over at the vodka before turning back, but he couldn’t look Rossi in the eyes.
“I want to down that whole bottle and lose my goddamn mind for just one night.”
Rossi felt crushed at the simultaneous longing and fear that was laced through his words.
“And what do you need?”
“I need you to get rid of it.”
Rossi wasted no time in striding over to the alcohol, twisting the cap so he could pour every last drop down the sink. He placed it out of sight in the recycling and searched for a dustpan and brush that he could use to clear up the broken glass. He wondered briefly how long Luke had been in this kitchen before he had called. He was only glad that he did. He asked Luke if there was any more in the house and he shook his head in reply.
After Rossi sorted everything out Luke appeared to be a lot calmer, now that the immediate threat had been removed. Rossi gently reached out to pick up the photo from the counter, giving Luke plenty of opportunity to protest if he wanted to. The picture showed Luke and Phil embracing and grinning at the camera. They looked so youthful and happy, just two innocent young men with so much life to live.
“I miss him. Some days I wake up and I forget, only for a moment, that he’s gone. There’s so much I want to tell him. I can’t believe it’s been a year already since we lost him. I’m… not coping very well.” He admitted shyly, still adjusting to this new atmosphere around him that was allowing him to be open and honest in a way he hadn’t been in an awfully long time.
“I know you do. And its okay. Grief is painful and enduring, there’s no right way to navigate through it.”
“The only time I don’t feel the pain is when I’m blackout drunk or asleep. I may bury it deep for a while when I’m working or having dinner, but its always there. Just hibernating until the next time I let my guard down.”
“Luke, you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But I think you asked me here for a reason. I’m ready to listen if you’re ready to talk.”
When he first started dating Erin, Rossi has spent hours scouring the internet for the best ways to support someone struggling with alcoholism. The first step was to help the person to admit they had a problem, but Luke had already done that by himself. One of the most important things was to let them know that you are there for them, no matter what.
“Before you ask… I haven’t. Had a drink I mean. Not tonight. Not in almost 10 months.” Rossi nodded to let him know that he believed him.
“I don’t know when it started, really. When it became a problem that I couldn’t shake. When I was a teenager we would go out every weekend and get drunk. But that’s what kids do, right? I would pick up girls or guys, waste the night away and wake up the next day with fuzzy memories and a splitting headache. And then we’d do it all again.
One day my parents somehow found out that I wasn’t the perfect, straight son they thought they had. I don’t know, maybe someone saw me out with another boy and told them. They thought I should just be able to “act normal” and only be with girls, even though I explained to them I was bisexual. The drinking got worse after that. It went from binge drinking on the weekends to me being dependent on it for interacting with my family. It was my way of coping, of forgetting that they hated me. I lasted a few more months there, but then I had to get out. That’s when I joined the army, where I met Phil. I was 20.
My parents never accepted me. But Phil did. He was always unquestionably unwavering. He supported me when I literally didn’t have anyone else. And he could see me, the real me, in a way I hadn’t let anyone else before. Our relationship was never romantic, but I loved him like a brother. During our training he could see that I was struggling. I had always thought that if I were going to be kicked out of the army it would be for sleeping with men, but I was coming dangerously close to them finding out that I drowned my sorrows with alcohol almost every night. By this point I had built up a high tolerance and had learnt to hide the symptoms well to outsiders, but I knew I couldn’t live like that forever.
Phil saved me. I wouldn’t have gotten through it without him. Hell, I might not be alive today if it wasn’t for him. He helped me get my first sponsor, discreetly of course. He found a LGBT discussion group where I could go and connect with people that were like me and knew what I was going through. By the end of our 6 months training, I was a completely different person.”
Luke took a deep breath as he thought about what to say next.
“When I was on active duty it was relatively easy for me to stay sober. I had so much going on and such little time to think about anything else other than our missions and surviving. Phil was by my side the whole time. It was only when I got back and joined the fugitive task force that things began to get bad again.
I had PTSD. And the work I was doing, going undercover with some of the most notorious criminals and murders, you have no idea some of the horrors I saw. What happened with the Crimson King, when he tortured Phil, it traumatised me. That was my last straw. I knew I had to get out. That’s why I decided to join the BAU, to hopefully be more removed from the violence and risk. Well, we all know how that’s turned out.
During my time off after Phil’s attack I got sober again, but it was ten times harder than the first time. I had so much more that I was running from, a million more memories I was trying to suppress. I started going to therapy and AA which helped. I got Roxy. I joined your team, and you all became my family.
I was doing well. Great, even. And then Phil was murdered, and I was crushed. It felt like I had been dropped from a skyscraper and had to just get up and keep going. I was drowning. I didn’t know how to do this without him. I broke up with Lisa, and then I was completely alone. I loved being with her and she tried her hardest to be there for me, but she just couldn’t understand. I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want her to have seen the things I’ve seen in order to allow the understanding. It’s too much. I’m too much.”
The emphasis of that last sentence almost tore Rossi apart. He couldn’t stand seeing someone he loved so much feel this way.
“The week after Phil’s funeral, when I was on leave, I was drunk for about 3 days straight. I don’t remember sleeping. I don’t remember much to be honest. I had told you all that I was fine, that I needed you to give me space. And, well, some of you are better at following that order than others. Penelope came round after a few days, but I didn’t let her in. I couldn’t. I would rather die than let her see me in the state I was in. But I was sat with my back against the front door as she talked to me. It must have been almost 20 minutes, and I didn’t say I word. I think she knew I was listening though. She left me home cooked meals that I could eat straight from the container, and that was the only reason I ate that whole week. She was already looking after the dogs for me, but she didn’t ever stop trying to find more ways to help. I never thanked her properly for it. I should.
At one point she said something to me that really stuck. She told me that Phil would be proud of me. But I knew, looking at myself drunk and dirty and in the same clothes as 4 days ago, that he wouldn’t be. Not now. Not this Luke. He used to always tell me that I was strong for being able to get sober, but I only felt weak for needing to. Her words were what I needed to kickstart my recovery. I contacted my old sponsor that I hadn’t seen since I moved to DC and with her help, I redid all the hard work just like I had before. There were times when I thought I couldn’t, a few days where I relapsed because the fragile structure inside of me that was holding everything together began to weaken with cracks. But we fixed them. And I swear, I was completely sober when I came back to work. I would never put the team at risk like that.”
He paused and looked up, his gaze meeting Rossi’s for the first time that night. It was intense, the need for confirmation of the older man’s belief in him palpable.
“I know, I trust you.”
“But Rossi, I can’t do it again. I have no fight left in me. If I have another drink, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”
Rossi reached out again to grab Luke’s hands, hoping the touch would be reassuring.
“It’s okay. You’re so strong Luke. You wouldn’t have called me if you weren’t.”
“Sometimes I think it would be whole lot easier if everything just stopped. I don’t mean that I want to kill myself, I just feel that no one would notice if I was gone. You all have your own lives and families. You’d be fine without me.”
Luke was distraught and burning with deep self-hatred. From what Rossi had just learned, he completely understood why. But now it was his job to convince him otherwise.
Rossi was beginning to realise that out of all his team members, Luke was the one he knew the least about. He was one of the newest additions, and whereas Matt loved sharing about his wife and kids he had never heard Luke mention his family at all. He tried not to feel guilty that he hadn’t realised how much Luke was suffering. You only see people the way they want to be perceived, no matter how much you want to believe otherwise. His heart had broken the second he had walked into Luke’s apartment but now it felt like he had picked up a hammer and was shattering each half into a thousand more pieces.
“Before you joined the BAU, we had a section chief called Erin Strauss. We were dating for a while. She was wonderful, and she was an alcoholic. You can be both. Addiction is an illness, just like any other, and it can be treated. I know you won’t feel like it right now, but you are resilient and an incredible man who is irreplaceable. I helped Erin, and I will always be here to help you. Whatever you need.”
“It’s really nice to hear you say that, even though I’ve always known it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I was too scared to say the words out loud. I don’t hide things from you because I don’t trust you. I hide because I care too much. I don’t want the vision of me in your head to alter, even if it is only a finely curated lie. It’s selfish.”
“Self-preservation is not selfish. You are dealing with huge pressure, and your instincts tell you to protect yourself in any way you can. Thank you for confiding in me.”
“Please, you can’t tell anyone. Not Penelope. Not even Emily.”
The fear was back in his voice, and Rossi didn’t want him to get worked up again.
“I won’t. But Emily should know, she’s your boss and she would want to help,” he pointed out, but Luke was well aware of that fact. Keeping his secret had been causing him an immense amount of internal anguish ever since he had joined the team. It was different than before, now that he had a team that cared about him unconditionally.
“I know, I know. But I’m not drinking now. I want to tell her, but I need to do it in my own time.”
“Alright. But if I see anything that gives me even the slightest bit of concern that your work might be affected, I’ll be talking to her straight away. Deal?”
Rossi knew he had no right to share personal information with the others, but he needed to protect his team. That would always be his top priority.
“Deal.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments before Luke spoke again. He had never really believed it when people used the term ‘weight lifted off my shoulders’ but that was exactly how he was feeling.
“Thank you, Dave. For everything. I mean, it’s the middle of the night, you didn’t have to come.”
“Of course I did, that’s what happens when your family is in trouble.”
Luke teared up again. It was still surreal to him that his found family loved him with this much intensity.
“You’re more of a father to me than my Pa ever was.”
He tried not to think about his parents too often, but he needed Rossi to know just how much he meant to him.
“It’s an honour, Alvez.”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
As the months passed, Luke felt like he was finally healing. The pain and urge to drink were still ingrained deep inside him, but now it was more of a dull ache rather than a never ceasing pounding in his chest. He knew he would be dealing with it for the rest of his life and had come to terms with that.
One evening not long after his conversation with Rossi, the team were out for dinner after a particularly long and gruelling case. As the waiter went round the table and poured the wine, Luke could feel Rossi’s concerned stare on him. He glanced over and Rossi raised his eyebrow. Luke gave him a small nod in return to signify that he was okay. In the past, he would have been able to convince himself that he could have a glass or two at dinner to be sociable and everything would be fine, when in all reality it would most likely end up with him downing a few more, or even shots of something stronger, when he got home. He was glad, in many ways, that Rossi was now in the loop. He was someone to hold himself accountable to, and sometimes that was just what Luke needed. Now, if he were tempted to drink he knew the disappointment that would shower down upon him, and it would be more than he could bare. When the waiter stopped beside him, Luke handed him back his empty glass.
“None for me thanks, someone’s got to drive these fools home at the end of the night.”
The day after the dinner, Luke requested to speak to Emily alone telling her it was about an incredibly important subject. He knew that even if Emily hadn’t seen the subtle looks between him and Rossi that it was only a matter of time until she figured out something was up. She was too smart to keep hiding from, and he would hate for her to find out without talking to her about it first. So, he mustered up all his courage, walked into her office, and told her he was a recovering alcoholic. Now that he had confided in Rossi, it was easier to know what to say even if it was just as hard to say it. He still felt ashamed and embarrassed, although he knew no one in the team would think that of him. It’s hard to break free from almost two decades of self-loathing, but Luke was trying. Emily didn’t act shocked or disgusted or disappointed, and she didn’t look at him with the pity that Rossi did. Instead, she thanked him for telling her and asked what she could do to help.
After that, his life began to improve immeasurably in ways he could never have expected. Emily instated a monthly welfare check-in meeting, not just for Luke but as a way to stay connected with the personal lives and requirements of the whole team which in the past could get forgotten in the rush of the job. He was appointed an FBI-approved confidential therapist, who was also paid for by the FBI, reducing the stress Luke was dealing with immensely. They weren’t there to judge him or report back to headquarters about all his problems, they were there to ensure he stayed healthy enough, both mentally and physically, to continue doing his job. Together they worked on his recovery and PTSD management, as well as a relapse prevention plan.
Once he was able to share with the rest of his BAU family, it was almost as if they could anticipate his needs before he did. They made sure he was taken care of and declared their dinners and nights out alcohol-free zones, not backing down after Luke protested saying he didn’t want to ruin their fun. He bonded more with Spencer, who had suffered drug addiction after being kidnapped on a case many years before they knew each other. He went to AA whenever he needed to, sometimes accompanied by Reid, occasionally by Rossi, but mostly by himself. For the first time since Phil died, he felt that he had a stead-fast support network around him that would be there to catch him if he stumbled or fell. One that would pull him back up and accompany him wherever the path may lead, no matter how treacherous it became.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
After Luke and Penelope got together, he told her everything about his past leaving no stone unturned. He wasn’t scared of shocking her with grizzly details of his work – she already knew what it was like. He explained to her how she had saved him without even realising. They both cried many tears, and afterwards their intimate bond was even more unbreakable.
They got married several years later on October 4th with Luke’s 5-year sobriety chip, received that very morning, snug inside his jacket pocket.