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The sun shining through the cracks of the blinds should feel like warm kisses in the morning; instead, they wake Reid like daggers to the eye. The blankets around him should feel like a comforting hug but they hold him down like ropes to a train track. Sobriety was supposed to allow him to take his life back, to feel normal again but instead, his whole body aches as if there’s TV static running through his veins in leu of blood.
He fights to sit up, reaching over his nightstand to find the Tylenol bottle that now lives there. It’s not Dilaudid but it’ll calm the pounding in his head long enough for him to remember why he refuses to shoot up again. It won’t get rid of the fatigue in his muscles or the sensation of angry bees buzzing around his joints but it will stop him from spending his day off searching for the known dealers in his area. He pops the pills into his mouth, swallowing without water as some sort of punishment for getting himself in this position in the first place.
But he didn’t get himself in this position, did he? He didn’t ask Tobias Hankle to drug him over and over until he didn’t know up from down. There wasn’t a single time he asked for the Dilaudid to be cut with something he doesn’t know the name of and pushed into his veins so quickly he stopped breathing. Yet here he is, facing the consequences with nothing more than a bottle of Tylenol and the long-sleeved sweaters it’s slowly becoming too hot to wear. Wishing he could quit cold turkey without sitting here, digging his nails into the palms of his hands while waiting for the pills to kick in.
Maybe they call it ‘quitting cold turkey’ because by the time you realize the gravity of the situation it feels like you’re already lying in a cold grave. Like you’re at your own wake, all alone because everyone is tired of the relapse rage and doesn’t want to be your friend anymore. Or maybe it only feels like that for Spencer, maybe other people get help climbing out of their graves.
He can’t ask Hotch for help although he knows he already knows about his addiction. His boss isn’t a dumb man but if they say it out loud Hotch has to report it and that would put him against a rock and a hard place. The last thing he wants is to be the reason Hotch loses his job and has his family get put out of their house.
The same goes for telling Gideon, he wouldn’t keep his mouth closed and would subsequently put people’s livelihoods on the line if anyone higher-up found out. Instead of doing something helpful like listening to Reid’s rants or taking him on a trip out of the city or anything to make him feel less alone and insane he would throw him under the bus and pass him off to a bunch of strangers because they’re “professionals”. Of course, he would have good intentions but he would go about it with all the gracefulness of a sumo wrestler in six-inch heels.
Reaching out to the other BAU members feels like a mistake; like he’s already put them through enough hell that there's no real reason to burden them with this. Any one of them would drop what they were doing to give him all the help they could offer but he doesn’t deserve that. He was awful to Emily before giving her a chance to get to know him well, Morgan and JJ have their share of life’s trials to deal with and Garcia stretches herself so thin for the team as it is asking for her help at this point is just plain selfish.
He can’t even call out for his mom in good faith. How could he when she’s fighting her own battle with schizophrenia, living her life in an assisted living facility? She can’t come and scare the monsters away, or read him their favorite books, or let him know that he doesn’t have to go through this alone anymore. Informing her that her precious boy genius is struggling with drug addiction would ruin her in a way Reid isn’t sure she would be able to recover from. He refuses to let down the person who believed in him the most.
So instead Reid sits motionless, staring at the wall, wishing with every fiber of his being he could go back in time to stop himself from splitting up with JJ. His rare bursts of blind bravery have allowed him to catch many unsubs over the years but maybe if they had just waited for backup they could have tracked Tobias down and arrested him together. Hell, maybe they could have gotten him the help he so clearly needed. Or maybe he would have gotten away, never to be found again. Either way, Tobias didn’t need to die and he sure as hell didn’t need to pass his struggles with addiction onto someone so woefully unprepared to deal with them. As he takes a sip of the half-empty bottle of water by his bed he wonders what would have happened to him if he left that vial in Hankle’s pocket that night. Maybe he could have safely detoxed in a hospital for a few days rather than go through the weeks of hell he has endured so far. Maybe he had put himself in this position and didn’t deserve a way out.
The patch of skull behind his ears stings as his ringtone suddenly blasts from the nightstand. He winces as he glances at the phone. It’s Derek. He lets it ring until the call drops, leaning back against the pillows, hoping his head doesn’t explode.
The obnoxious ringing starts again, Reid rolls over and covers his ear with a pillow. Why hasn’t this Tylenol kicked in yet? Why hasn’t the joy of sobriety taken over his shitty attitude yet? The ringing stops.
He lets out a sigh that almost turns into a sob. Out of desperation, he begs god to send him relief.
The phone rings again, Derek for a third time in as many minutes.
He forces himself to sit up and grab the phone, knowing there is no reason for his colleague to call that many times unless their day off is canceled. Phone in hand, he considers playing hooky but before he can give it any serious thought he’s pressing the “answer” button.
“Hello” he murmurs
“Hey Spence, I was wondering if you were down to hang out later today?”
What.
“What?”
“I mean, I just finished in the gym, and there's an open invitation to meet the girls at the bar downtown tonight. Today’s our first full day off in weeks so I wanted to know if you wanna kill some time, grab lunch, hang out around town before meeting them?”
He’s taken aback. Even after all the hell he’s brought with him these last weeks his colleagues still want him around on their day off? The throbbing in his head slows.
“I don’t know,” Reid responds after a pause “I’m not much of a bar guy you know”
“Nonsense pretty boy, you bring your own nerdy sense of fun.” He teases “Ladies love the brains and I bring the brawns, we’re bound to have a good time.”
Maybe it would be good for him to go out and distract himself. There's no harm in having a few drinks and socializing for a bit, it may make this rough patch a little less difficult.
“You know what? Sure, I’m not doing anything else”
“That’s the spirit! I’ll be there around twelve thirty”
Reid hangs up first, his veins no longer filled with TV static. Maybe things will be okay. Maybe there are people willing to help him out of his grave.
Maybe he deserves the help.