nemesism // spencer reid angst

summer child

 Derek was right; Spencer did feel somewhat better after eating. It was hard to force the food down after having such a difficult day, but he did his best. His throat still felt constricted and his depression made it hard to maintain an appetite. Spencer was tremendously grateful for Derek. There was no way he would have eaten without the offer of delicious spaghetti his friend cooked up.

"Th- thanks." Spencer managed a single word as he placed his empty bowl on the coffee table in front of him, earning a smile and nod from Derek. The two were planted on the couch in the living room. Derek had finished eating long before Spencer had, but he was gracious enough to wait on washing his dish so Spencer didn't feel rushed. Spencer watched as his friend collected the bowls and took them to the kitchen. He leaned back and closed his eyes, rocking back and forth slightly in an attempt to self-soothe.

Just as Derek finished putting the bowls away, a knock sounded from the door. Spencer shot up, eyes wide with fear for a split second. He hated how loud noises scared him, the way they instilled terror years later. He let out a shaky breath and shook his hands out while he watched Derek exit the kitchen and head to the door.

"Derek?" Spencer questioned, wondering if he knew who was at the door. Derek simply responded by shrugging his shoulders. After a quick peep through the hole in the door, Derek swung it open excitedly. Spencer flinched at the sudden movement.

"Hotch! Hey, man! What are you doing here?" When Derek spoke, Spencer felt his heart drop. The last thing he wanted was to face his boss in the state he was in. Before he could escape to his bedroom, Hotch was walking through the entry and into the living room. Derek followed behind him, unaware of Spencer's growing anxiety.

"Hi, Reid. How are you doing?" Hotch asked carefully, sitting down in an armchair across from him. The man's eyes drifted downwards. It was then that Spencer realized he was still wearing the short-sleeved shirt that Derek had given him earlier. He wrapped his arms around his abdomen and curled into himself, eyes searching for the closest blanket to him.

"Um. Okay." Spencer uttered hoarsely. Derek sat back down beside him and Spencer motioned to a blanket on the end of the couch closest to his friend. Derek understood immediately and tossed him the blanket. As soon as Spencer had it, he wrapped it around himself, disguising the plethora of scars and the bandages from earlier.

"Spencer is having a hard time speaking, he's mostly non-verbal right now. He's said a few words but that's it." Derek supplied, explaining the situation.

"I see. Well, I wanted to come over and check on you, Reid. To remind you that I am not only your boss but your friend as well. If there's anything I can do to help you, please let me know." Hotch's firm demeanor shifted slightly, a friendlier, less scary side peeking out from behind it. Spencer simply nodded his head, eyes averted out of shame and embarrassment. He couldn't even imagine what Hotch was thinking. An FBI agent who can't even control his urges to hurt himself? What a pitiful and shameful excuse of a person.

"Spencer, can I explain to him what's been happening?" Derek turned to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Spencer looked up at him and shook his head softly. If Hotch was going to hear anything, it was going to be from him.

"Hotch, I- I don't know what to say," Spencer took a deep breath and wrapped the blanket tighter around his body, the pressure helping to calm him, "Der- uh, Morgan already told you some things over the phone." He stumbled over his words, feeling like calling Derek by his first name in front of their boss was wrong somehow.

"I'm not asking you to give me a whole life story - unless you feel like you want to, in which case I will listen with no judgment - I simply want to understand what was going on within you to cause these events to transpire." Hotch spoke smoothly and evenly, a stark contrast to Spencer's gravelly and choppy speech.