All These Scars... (A Criminal Minds fan-fiction)

Chapter Seven

Derek's POV:
When I woke up I was still on the couch but there was a sticky note stuck to my forehead that gently lifted after every breath I took. I pulled the small, fluorescent piece of paper off of my head and wiped away the residue as I read the dark print, still groggy from sleep.

Had to go into work early and didn't
want to wake you up. There is some
Chinese food I left in the fridge for you.
I love you and I'll be home later :)
-Sav♡

I laid the note on the coffee table and headed to the fridge for some breakfast even though I never bothered to look at the time.
It was the first day off in a few weeks and I was looking forward to spending it with Savannah but duty calls.

Spencer's POV:
The plane ride home didn't take very long since I slept most of the way but once I arrived home everything hit me all at once. My mother was dying. And I left her, should've stayed longer. I was going to see my father again.
I definitely wasn't ready for that.
All of my problems were hitting me at once. Will beating JJ and my godson. My mother's health quickly deteriorating, my father living a short drive away without bothering to call me or send me a letter but suddenly wanting me to meet him in person.
When I arrived at my apartment complex I quickly ran up the stairs and unlocked my door. When I walked in everything was the same. My freshly washed clothes were on my table, books were everywhere. The book Maeve gave me was sitting on my couch.
A picture of me and my mother was on the kitchen counter and beside it was several pictures of the team and I. They wouldn't be proud of what I was about to do...
The tears began to fall and before I even realized it I was quickly walking to my room. I got on the ground and grabbed the locked box under my bed that contained all of my medication; I didn't own a medicine cabinet so I kept them under my bed.
I turned the knob on the lock, put in my code until I heard a click, then lifted the lid to the wooden box.
Orange plastic bottles, clear glassed liquids, sleeping pills and syringes filled the box, along with many prescriptions.
I pulled out a glass bottle that read, "Dilaudid" and held it in my hands, scanned the bottle for a few seconds.
I remembered the first time I got hooked on the narcotic, and the person who pumped the medication in my bloodstream.
Tobias Hankle.
I remembered telling him, "I don't want it. I don't need it," but over the past few months I was taking it and the drug made my headaches, along with the pain of my mother's condition, go away.
Temporarily, of course, but it made me feel...better. That was until the withdrawals got bad. I had to up my dosage every once in a while after it didn't have the same effect. I knew it was getting dangerous once I started to get lightheaded, pass out or have respiratory problems.
That never stopped me, though. I would go off of Dilaudid and go on other, less intense drugs. Yes, the withdrawals got extremely severe but once Dilaudid was out of my system I went right back on it so I would get close to the same experience as I did the first time I took it.
I knew it was getting dangerous but I couldn't stop.
To get any form of the drug you had to have a prescription for Exalgo, Dilaudid or Palladone. I couldn't get them so I had a drug dealer who lived a few apartments away from mine. His name was Jack Miller.
He was a nice kid, a little rough but if he didn't sell drugs he probably would've turned out a lot better. Unfortunately, he was young and had just dropped out of high school when he became my "dealer."
He had so much potential.
I tied a belt around my upper arm, felt the throb of the blood rushing through my veins under the leather strap, and filled the syringe with the clear liquid. After taking a deep breath I penetrated my skin with the sterile needle and ever so slowly pushed down the plunger.
In less than twenty seconds my body was filled with a burning fire, warmth, that coursed through my bloodstream and sent me into a euphoric trance...where I had no headaches and everything would be okay.

JJ's POV :
After making Henry's favorite dinner of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and French fries I made Henry brush his teeth and head back to bed.
I had a talk with him about Will and how we were probably going to get a divorce. And how it was very wrong of Will to hurt me and him. He burst into tears, which broke my heart, but he had to know.
After locking all of the doors and windows I eventually fell asleep on the couch after watching the 11 o'clock news.

I woke up to the sound of my phone alarm ringing. It was time to get Henry ready for school. I walked up to his room and slowly opened his door to see him already dressed and tying his tennis shoes.
"Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah," he said through a yawn.
His eye was still dark but not swollen and not as distinct as it was the day before.
"Henry, when you get to school a lot of people are going to ask about what happened to your eye. I need you to tell them that you tripped and hit something. Can you do that for me?"
"But Mommy, then I would be lying," he frowned at me and I kneeled down to him.
"I know it is, Henry, but just this once."
"Lying isn't good."
"Henry, I know it isn't but I'll let you lie just this time. Please?"
"Okay," he said sadly and grabbed his backpack.
Henry was always up way too early because he wanted to take a nap on the couch while I got ready for work.
After I got dressed, straightened my hair and attempted to put makeup on, I washed it off because it just made my bruises look worse.
"Are you ready to go?" I asked Henry as I gently shook him awake.
"Yeah. Do you feel okay?, Mom?"
I nodded my head and headed out the door, Henry leading the way. After I unlocked the car I locked the front door and threw his backpack into the backseat while he buckled up.
After I dropped Henry off I headed to work where I sat in the parking lot, ran every scenario through my head and debated every possible decision. Was I just going to walk into the BAU and act like nothing was wrong? Was I going to sit here until someone came over to me?
I decided to call Spencer since I hadn't seen his car in the parking lot. He was usually one of the first ones to arrive.

Spencer's POV:
I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing from the table in the kitchen. I looked down at my arm ask realized it was dumb and had no circulation so I ripped the belt off quickly but I still couldn't move it.
I must've passed out after taking that narcotic. I jumped up but was immediately crippled by sudden dizziness.
I stumbled to answer my phone but was so dazed I didn't even read the caller ID.
"Hello?" I asked sharper than I meant to.
"Hey Spence, where are you?" JJ's voice filled my foggy head and I pulled my phone away from my ears and looked at the time. I would be late for work.
"Hey, JJ, I just...am tired from the flight. Overslept. I'll be there soon. Bye," I hung up the phone and shoved it into my pocket.
I thought it was probably rude of me to just shut her down like that but after what had happened the night before I wasn't up for talking. But right after that I remembered what happened to her and easily regretted it.
After washing up and changing my clothes I grabbed my satchel, stuffed some Dilaudid in it just in case the withdrawals got bad on the job, along with a syringe, and headed out the door with my car keys in my hand.
For the entire car ride one question rolled over in my mind.
Who is my father ?
I remembered the old version of him clearly when I was eight years old but once he left I never heard from him again and that left me to wonder all those years.
Was he a better man without us in his life? Did he move on? Why did he leave? Why didn't he bother to give me a call?
It was all too much.