Innocence [ spencer reid x reader ] ✔

fourteen: broken

"Are you guys dumb? Do you guys not pay attention?" You look at the faces of your coworkers, your voice steady. You point toward the door. "That boy was kidnapped. He was kidnapped and he was drugged—with a very highly addictive drug, might I add." You put your hands by your sides again, clenching them. "Are you guys fucking blind? He comes in here late every day. He's unfocused. His moods are erratic. He's angry all the time. Wow, I wonder what that sounds like." You point accusingly at your team. "He's struggling. And you guys just go about your normal lives every day like everything's okay. God, you guys are some of the best profilers in the entire world, but you are so fucking blind to what's right in front of you." Tears fill your eyes, the lump in your throat growing bigger. "The fact that you can just sit there and watch a member of your team—of your family—struggle and descend into drug addiction is beyond me. What were you guys gonna do, wait until he overdoses to say anything to him? Wait until he dies? He deserves better than all of you, because obviously, none of you care enough to help him." Hotch walks toward you, his hands raised like he's going to comfort you. You hold your hand up, stopping him. "No, just...don't." Your voice breaks and you grab your bag, turning around to sprint out the doors. "Spence!"

You run out of headquarters, swinging your head to see if he's anywhere. Fuck. No. You run to your car, throwing your purse in the backseat and getting in quickly. You start your car, buckling your seatbelt as you back out of the parking spot. You practically shred the rubber on your tires as you speed to Spencer's apartment. A thousand thoughts run through your head—the fact that you just yelled at your whole team, the fact that you just cussed at your boss. The best feeling though? The anger dissipating from your chest as soon as you were done speaking to your team.

You park outside of Spencer's, shutting off your car and pushing your keys in your pocket as you get out. You run up the steps outside of Spencer's apartment two at a time, finding yourself standing breathless outside of his door. You knock three times, biting the inside of your cheek.

"Spencer, please open the door," you plead, knocking again. "Spence. Please." No answer. You curl your hand into a fist, banging harder. "I'm not leaving, so either you let me in or—"

The door swings open, revealing Spencer still in his work clothes. His eyes are bloodshot—but not from drugs. They're puffy. His cheeks are red. He's been crying. He stares at you, a blank expression on his face.

"Please let me in."

He doesn't move, one hand on the door, the other by his side. You grow frustrated, pushing past him into his apartment. Your eyes glance around, noticing the mess strewn around the place. He shuts the door and turns toward you abruptly.

"Why are you here?" His voice breaks, and it takes everything in your power not to cry in front of him.

You turn, tilting your head. "You're going to tell me what's wrong with you. And you don't get to pull the 'it's nothing' excuse, because I know you're not fine. I know you're using, Spencer. I'm so fucking worried about you." You take a step toward him, your eyes never leaving his tired hazel ones. "I care about you."

His bottom lip trembles, averting his gaze away from you. "I...I..."

You cross the short distance to him, one of your hands immediately moving to the side of his face. Surprisingly, he doesn't move away from you, instead he leans into your touch. His sad eyes look into yours, tears springing in his eyes.

"It's okay," you whisper. "You can say it, Spence. Say it."

"I am a drug addict," he whispers, his voice breaking. The tears fall freely down his cheeks. "I...I don't want to be. I just—I'm struggling, I'm struggling and I feel so alone and—" His own sob cuts himself off. You watch him break in front of you, his body shaking.