Hidden // Spencer Reid

Addicted

"I'm addicted to the pain, distress, and drama." -Eminem

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"It's not entirely my fault, is it?"

"Oh, my gosh, Lis, stop asking me this question. It's entirely, fully and completely your fault." Shelly sounds aggravated.

I would probably be aggravated, too, though, if she kept asking if cheating on her boyfriend was wrong. Duh, it's wrong. But I really don't know which of these two people I actually love. All I know is that I know what love feels like, when, in my recurring dreams, a faceless man is taken from me. Even my head is teasing me about this.

I honestly have been thinking about accepting the job offer simply to see Spencer every day. That is bad, though. Who does that, takes up a job to see a person who they are secretly... you get the point. I don't want to say "oh yeah, I kissed Spencer Reid." That's not all I did. Plus, it feels more personal than that.

"Fine. Fine. Bye." I just hang up on Shelly, no second thoughts about it. I have more pressing matters than why her dog Muffins eats socks instead of hamburger.

Derek comes into the bedroom. Oh, that's cool. You can open the door. You don't have to knock or anything. To be honest, he doesn't. There's only one secret I keep from him.

Or two, actually.

"Hey, Alice. Have you thanked Reid yet, for, you know?" He asks awkwardly, completely unlike my Derek. My Derek. He shouldn't be mine.

"For... what?" I ask, befuddled. Spencer hasn't done anything for me besides, well everything, to buying me flowers to calling me beautiful, but nothing that Derek should know about.

Not moving from his position on the door frame, Derek chuckles. "He didn't tell you he found you?" 

My jaw drops. He claimed to be my boyfriend? He found me? Even though I never called his name, never asked for him in the hospital, he was my knight in shining armour, possibly the reason I'm breathing?

"N-n-no, he never said anything," I stutter. Derek is only half as shocked as I am, and I can only tell because he leaned back slightly.

"Oh."

"Y-you didn't hear me call out for you?" I ask, the familiar sense of rage taking over. He winces.

"No. Come on, baby girl. It was so long ago."

I leap off of the bed, my hands shaking. "I am not your 'baby girl', and two weeks isn't long ago!" I scream, my head pounding.

He straightens up, his jaw clenched. Due to his childish, boyish disposition, Derek rarely backs down from a fight. I don't know how he'll react to the apparent love of his life screaming at him, though.

"Now, Alice-"

"Alice? My name is Lena Alice Portman, dumbass! You never wanted to know, though, why you never saw my fucking ID, why I always shielded it from you? Did you not know that I hated my name, because my mother, who drank herself to death, was named Lena? Did you not think about my mom, or my dad, ever, because you expected to 'meet' them or something? Hell no, Derek Morgan. If I wanted to see them, I would've done so in a year. You are the worst profiler ever!" He looks murderous as he makes his way towards me.

In a menacing growl, he whispers, "If I was that bad of a profiler, would I have noticed how tense you get around the subject of your family, or known to respect your personal space about your family, in fear you would have acted out? You know nothing, Lena." The words sound like venom, and I'm cowering beneath him.