𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒚

Nine

𝙳𝚛. 𝙰𝚍𝚊𝚖 𝚅𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚒'𝚜 𝙾𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎

𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚜, 𝚀𝚞𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚘, 𝚅𝙰

𝙵𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝟷𝟾, 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟸

𝟾:𝟻𝟶 𝙰.𝙼.

"I think you need to go back to rehab," he said, folding his hands on the armrest of his chair.

"I respectfully disagree," she retaliated monotonously, staring straight back at him.

"Tillie, for the past month, you have drank every night. You are quite literally, killing yourself, by poison. Not only that, but you have been avidly in contact with your father, and you are falling further and further away from sobriety. I think," he paused, "actually, I don't think, I know that you need to go back, even though you don't want to."

"Vidaurri," she whined. She knew that he was right, she's going in the very wrong direction, and she was very aware. It wasn't only apparent in her behavior, but her appearance was reflecting it as well. Her face had lost it's color and her cheeks had sunken in. Her eyes were more gray than green, and the wrinkles on her face showed up more than usual. One would even say she looked ghoulish. "Look, give me a chance-"

"We've already tried that. Now we have to try something else," he sighed. "I know that you don't want to, but putting my professionalism aside, I care for you, Tillie. I've counseled you since you were 11, we've been through a lot. I'm not letting this set you back, I'm not giving up after coming this far. You got me?"

"I got you," she quieted after her response. Glancing back to the bookshelf where his notebooks resided, she spoke up one last time. "If Spencer asks where I am, you have my full permission to tell him what's going on."

"I think that as his friend, you should tell him yourself."

She thought for a moment, "I can't disappoint another person, especially not him." And with that, she stood up, and walked out of his office before he could say anything else

He stayed in his chair, lost in thought, concerned for his friend. They had agreed to do the same thing that they did the last time she got sent to rehab. After their meeting to talk about it, she would go home and pack, and he'd pick her up at an agreed time, this time would be at 1 in the afternoon, and he'd check in every three days or so.

Snapping out of his trance, he looked at his list of clients today.

Darryl Brandon

Kylie Renee

Spencer Reid

Darryl and Kylie were already in the morning, before he would take Tillie to rehab, and he didn't know how long it would take. Especially since he didn't know if she would throw a fit or not, so he'd need to reschedule Spencer's appointment.

Grabbing the phone resting on his desk, he dialed the number listed in his contact information and waited for Spencer to pick up.

After ringing for quite some time, he finally picked up.

"Dr. Spencer Reid speaking," cultured voice answered on the other line. 

"Dr. Reid, this is Dr. Vidaurri, I hope I'm not calling at a bad time for you," Vidaurri said apologetically. 

"Not at all, is there anything wrong?"

"We'll need to reschedule our appointment for this afternoon to either before lunch, or tomorrow."

Spencer thought for a moment. He leaned back in his chair at his desk, contemplating. 

"Could you hold, please?" Before waiting for a response, Spencer stood from his chair placing the therapist on hold, and walking up the stairs two at a time to Hotch's office. 

Knocking with the knuckle of his index finger waiting for the 'Come in' from Hotch. Opening the door, and closing it behind him, he sat down, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. 

"How can I help, Reid?" 

"Could I take off an hour before lunch?" Hotch furrowed his eyebrows at the odd request. 

"Yes, may I ask why?"

"My therapist needed to reschedule from this afternoon, and he said that his only options were today before lunch, or after today. And I just needed to get something off my chest," Spencer's words quieted, and he scratched at the space between his eyebrows. Hotch's expression flashed to concern and then back to his typical neutral appearance. 

"Of course, Reid, take all the time you need."

"Thanks, Hotch," Spencer stood from his chair, rushing to get back to his desk. "Vidaurri, you still there?"

"Yes," He replied. 

"I can make it before lunch, if that's alright," Spencer's grip on the phone tightened and released repeatedly. 

"Perfect. Does 11'o'clock work?" 

"Yes, it does," He heard a keyboard clacking in the background. 

"I've got you all set, I'll see you later," Vidaurri said in his tranquil voice. 

"Bye," Spencer said his farewell before hanging up the phone and leaning back into his seat. He sat and pondered, puzzled why he felt almost eager to talk to Vidaurri. Maybe it was because of his need to express his concerns about Tillie. 

She hadn't been doing well, and he was starting to become gravely anxious for his friend. Getting a call in the most random of times was normal now. Most of the time it was just for a moments worth, chatting about the little things. But it was hard to turn off the profiling, and everything about her screamed in agony for help from whatever demons she was battling. 

But it had only been a month of friendship, and he didn't need to be messing around in business that wasn't his. 

Trust was a two way road that was earned. He wanted to earn her trust, and the best way for him to do that, was for him to be patient. 

All he needed to do now, was wait for her. 

And he was more than willing to wait for her.