How Dare You [ReidxReader]

(12) Partners in Crime

note: TW substance abuse

You sleep for a long time. Your unconscious knows that you don't want to wake up right now. When you finally get up, you're just as agitated as last night.

Yoga and other grounding-techniques help a little. You need to get out of your apartment. You try to dull your intrusive thoughts by concentrating on marginal things like how many tiles are on the wall opposite your shower.

You get in your car and drive around until you decide to get coffee. With a big cup, you make another decision: To drive to the BAU. It will be a productive way to distract yourself. It's just past noon when you get in the elevator.

You only have your badge and your coffee with you. That should be all you need for some hours of paperwork. You enter the bullpen. It's weird to be the only one there. Well, correction: The only one except for Hotchner.

You sit down at your desk and shuffle through the files. Without getting up again to talk to Hotchner, you start to work on them and drink your coffee. The hot liquid helps to calm you down.

After an hour or so, you hear someone clear their voice behind you. You put down your pen and turn around.
"What are you doing here?" Hotchner looks at you with his arms crossed.
"Work."
"I can see that. You're supposed to rest." His voice is stern, but with a hint of worry.
"I did, now I want to do something meaningful with my time."
Hotchner lets out a sigh: "I will kick you out by 6."
You nod and turn back around.

- - - - - - - - - -

You get tired earlier than you expected. By half past five, you go to Hotchner's office to hand him the files you finished.
"See you tomorrow." You give him a small smile.
He just nods.

Putting on your jacket, you get an idea. You don't have your phone with you, so you use the one on your desk. The only number you know off the top of your head, is your old number at the DEA, connecting to your desk.

You dial it and wait for someone to pick up.
"Agent Isaacs."
"Huh, so you really stole my desk."
He lets out a laugh: "Byrne?"
"Wanna get dinner?"
You hear that he smiles when he asks: "Pick me up in half an hour?"
"See you then."

You park directly in front of the main entrance. Isaacs spots you immediately when he comes out. You lean over and push the door open for him.
He gets in and greets you enthusiastically: "I almost gave up on you keeping your promise."
You laugh: "I would never."

While driving to the restaurant you two used to frequent, you make sure to talk more about him and his job than he can ask about you. It's nice to spend time with him again. You used to see him almost every day. It also feels somewhat foreign. Like you are talking to a memory and not a real person.

You manage to steer the conversation away from sensitive topics until he says: "I am still working on your case."
You cough up the wine you are drinking. "Okay." You comment.
"Okay?" Isaacs looks confused.
"I cannot stop you." You shrug your shoulders.

"Do you want me to?" He props up his elbows up on the table.
You lean back: "I honestly don't know."
"I'll only tell you when I find something important, okay?" He offers.
You think about that for a minute. Then you tell him: "Tell me when you are about to arrest them."
Isaacs gives you a smile: "So, you believe I will get that far?"
"You're the only person who has at least a tiny chance to pull that off."
"Tiny chance? Should I be offended by that?"
"Don't be."

- - - - - - - - - -

You cannot stand the silence any longer. Your apartment is so silent. While pouring yourself a glass of vodka, you put on music.
When the glass is empty, you throw it against the wall. You like the sound of it shattering.

You curse when you see how little cocaine you have left. Did you really use that much? Promising yourself to not buy more in the near future, you open the tiny bag. Carefully, you empty it onto the counter.

Not caring if you turned the music up or the cocaine makes it sound louder, you dance through your living room. You don't really feel your body anymore and it's great.

This goes on for some time, until your legs start to hurt, and you collapse onto the sofa. Far away, you hear a knocking sound. You ignore it and let your head fall back, closing your eyes and riding on the last waves of your high.

Suddenly, the music turns off. "What the-" Your eyes shoot open.
Spencer is standing in the middle of your living room.

- - - - - - - - - -

"What the fuck? How did you get in here?" You're shocked as much as you are angry.
"Picked your lock." Spencer informs you.
Your eyes dart around until they land on his face. He looks like he hasn't slept, deep circles under his eyes.

He says something else, but the white noise in your ears gets louder again. You don't know if he can hear you properly or what he will think of you, but you don't really care: "I'm high. If you could just leave that would be great."

Suddenly, Spencer's fingers are pressed against the side of your neck.
"Why are you taking my pulse?" You mumble, slurring the words.
You're not sure if he doesn't answer or you can't hear him, but the next thing you feel is him putting his arm around you.

The bright light of the bathroom hurts your eyes, groaning you lift your hand to shield your face. "Lift your legs." Spencer orders you.
Too disoriented to argue, you just do as he says. You feel something cold around you and realize that you are in the bathtub. Your eyes widen in panic: "No, don't make me... no." Your breathing picks up even more and you can feel your heart basically jumping out of your chest.

"It's alright." Spencer tells you calmly. "Just listen to my voice."
You hear him turn on the water and stare at the side of the bathtub, still blinded by the bright white light. Your hands clench the edge of the tub and you try to get up but fail.
Spencer keeps talking to you. It helps you to remember that you are in your apartment. You feel warm water drenching your clothes.

It's warm. It's warm. No one wants to hurt you. You will not drown.

Slowly, you start to actually understand what Spencer is saying. He is reading you The Hobbit. When your sight clears up you look at him. He doesn't have the book. He just kneels next to the tub and showers you with hot water.

Your mind starts to catch up: "You remember it word by word?"
Spencer just rubs your arm. Maybe he heard you, maybe not.
After a few minutes he checks your pulse again. It slowed down.

"You look pretty." He suddenly says.
You lift your head: "That's not funny. "
Spencer stares into your eyes: "It wasn't a joke."