ARDENT [A Spencer Reid/Criminal Minds Fan-Fic]

FOURTEEN | CONTINUED

(Lauren's P.O.V.)

I never thought it would be so hard to resist slitting my wrists. I was too old for this nonsense.

It had been two days since the last time I had done it. I just wanted Spencer to leave. He'd been staying home with me. He was just going back and fourth grabbing stuff for me when I needed it. I hated it, though. I was a very independent person. 

"Go in today." I said, lifting my head from the arm of the couch, which I was laying on, sleeping.

"Why?" Spencer asked me. "You are not going to cut yourself, are you?" He asked me, beginning to get suspicious.

"No Spencer! Jesus." I lashed back. "It was a one time thing! You don't need to watch over me. I am not a-" I started to cry. He ran over to me, hugging me.

"Please don't cry, Lauren." He begged me. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." I nodded, pretending I understood. I didn't, though. When could he just get it through his thick skull, I am alright. I am fine. I promised myself this over and over again. Was it really true though?

Spencer walked in a half circle before turning to me and throwing his hands by his sides.

"You know what, I am going in." He announced. He pulled his phone from his sweater pocket and began to text. He stepped over to me and leaned down to kiss my cheek. "I will only be gone for today, unless a case comes in. But I don't think one will."

I raised my eyebrows, irritated. "Okay, okay." I huffed, attempting to get him out of here. I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. Instead, right now, it was my thoughts and a little quiet, "STATISTICALLY-" In the back. 

He looked around, trying to find anything out of place so that he could fix it before he left. Everything was fine. He walked to the door, picked his bag from the hook, and began to turn the doorknob. "I am a phone call away." He called. "I love you."

"You too, Spencer." I said, turning over, like I was going to try and get more sleep. When he was clearly out of the apartment and on his way to the subway I sat up and faced the windows. I placed my head in my hands, thinking of what to do to get this unbreakable urge out of my head.

Finally, into the silence, I screamed to myself. "Dammit!" And tears began to pour down my cheeks. I slammed my hands on the sides of the couch as I forcefully shot up and charged into the bathroom, taking out the razor from under the soap dish. In pure anger, I began to rip the silver, bloody metal piece across my wrists. Not just two or three times, but fourteen or fifteen lashes.

When finally finished, I placed the razor back under the soap dish. In quick thought I stuck my arms under the sink faucet and the water burned through me. I yanked them back from the falling water. Afterwards, I took a moment to actually look at my wrists.

"Why?" I questioned myself out loud. I shoved the bathroom door open and slammed it back. I threw myself into the corner of the bedroom, my knees in the air, my arms hung in the middle. I fell asleep there, in the darkness.

(Spencer's P.O.V.)

I once again entered my quiet apartment. In the total darkness, I felt that Lauren was probably asleep. I opened placed my bag down quietly, also taking off my shoes, tie, and sweater. I tip-toed towards the bedroom. I opened cracked it, looking in. There was nothing but pitch black. I opened the door wider and walked more deeply into the abyss of mysterious darkness. I turned on a little lamp. I looked around to finally spot Lauren sitting in the corner in a odd position.

"Lauren." I said, walking towards her. I sat myself next to her and pulled her onto my shoulder. She awoke suddenly, her arms shooting outward. I saw them. So many of them. I yanked her inflamed wrists towards me, under my viewing.

"Lauren!" I shouted. She took one of her hands and pulled it down her face, exhausted. I felt her beginning to cry. 

"I just-" She tried to say. I took her into my hold, putting my arms around her, my legs outward in front of me. I pulled her down to my lap, where she lay sobbing.

"Sh." I tried to calm her, caressing her brunette hair. "You're sick. You're sick." I whispered. Her tears piled onto my pants.

"I know." She whispered in reply. She rolled over, looking up at me. "I am so sorry."

"For what, darling?" I asked her, pulling my fingers through her hair. 

"You're right. I am sick. I am putting you through this." She said, beginning to squirm. "You deserve so much better, Spencer. You just- I need to leave. Now." She started to try and get up, but I restrained her. "I need to get to a hospital or something. No, I should just run." She started to list off crazy thoughts. I hushed her.

"No. I can take care of you here." I whispered. I smiled, letting my tears fall down. "I can take care of you right here."

She started to wail. I pulled her closer to my chest. She through her hand on my shoulder. I put my hands on her back and head, holding her. She had a place here. Always.