spencer reid's daughter

nine

Two hours and thirty three minutes passed before a doctor finally talked to the team. Spencer was finishing his seventh cup of coffee when he made eye contact with the nurse walking down the hallway. The rest of the team sulked back into their chairs as Spencer paced, his fingernails all chewed down. The doctor stood in front of the team, which all made them rise to their feet in unison.

"How is she, doctor?" Spencer blurted, rubbing the back of his neck to calm his anxious nerves.

"She's a fighter without a doubt, it's exceedingly rare for someone to survive with no brain damage for so long without oxygen. She's resting now, you should be able to see her tomorrow." The doctor forced an exhausted smile, nodding reassuringly towards the rest of the team. "She'll be okay, I promise."

"Thank you, ma'am." Derek wrapped his arm around Spencer's shoulder, looking over towards his friend. "You hear that? She'll be okay, Pretty Boy. What's going on inside that head of yours?"

Spencer blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision from being so lightheaded. He turned towards Aaron, unintentionally avoiding Derek's question. "What's going to happen to Tate?"

"He'll be charged and kept in jail for the rest of his life. You will never have to see him, he won't hurt you or Colette ever again." Aaron exchanged glances between Spencer and Derek before clearing his throat. "Let Morgan drive you home, you're not in the right mindset to be driving this late. Colette will still be here in the morning."

Spencer sighed, picking up his brown satchel that Emily had brought for him filled with eight books he read to distract himself in the two hours at the hospital. He could barely get through a third book, becoming so distracted with worry. He walked outside of the hospital with Derek and to the black SUV, bidding the rest of the team a goodnight before climbing inside.

Most of the drive back to Spencer's house was silent, until Derek pulled onto the side of the road to completely stop the car. "What are we doing? What's going on?" Spencer turned towards Derek, his eyebrows narrowed.

"Prentiss told me about what you found in Tate's living room; the Dilaudid," Derek watched as Spencer tensed at the slight mention of the drug he was addicted to. "Reid, you have to promise me you won't relapse on us again. How long have you been clean?"

"Six years, three hundred and sixty days." Spencer couldn't make eye contact with Derek, too afraid of disappointing him. "Tobias drugged me when Colette was only two, and for awhile I couldn't stop — I just wanted to forget. Hazel finally gave me the ultimatum that she would leave me if I didn't stop. I couldn't even stop myself the last time; I had just gotten out of the hospital with my wife dead, unable to use either of my legs."

"Being almost seven years clean of a drug that once controlled your life is a huge achievement, Reid. You need to keep it that way, no matter how tempting situations get after this. We've already disposed of the Dilaudid in Tate's home, we just want you to stay safe." Derek ruffled Spencer's hair before starting the car once again. "It's okay to be motivated by emotion, but you can't let it take over."

Spencer refused to say anything else as he leaned forward towards the radio, switching to the classical music station. The melodic tunes of Beethoven filled the silence of the car until Derek dropped off Spencer to his house.

"Do you want me to walk you inside?" Derek offered, beginning to unbuckle his seatbelt.

"I'm alright, but thank you for the ride." Spencer waved once more to his friend before unlocking the door to his home. He stood in the doorway, inhaling a deep breath as the sickening memories flooded back into Spencer's brain. He shuttered, locking the door behind him as he turned on his security alarm.

Spencer dropped his bag by the small table positioned by the door before walking upstairs to his bedroom, opening the closet door. He stood on his tiptoes to grab a small shoebox from the top shelf that was now covered in layers of dust. Spencer sat crisscrossed on the floor with the box in his lap before removing the lid, staring at the components inside.

The criminal files of Tate and Tobias Hankle were the first items to be seen inside the box, the folders worn down from the excessive amount of times Spencer had looked through their information. Underneath the vanilla files were the crime scene photos from the night Tate attacked. Spencer only kept this box to fuel his self loathing and depression over the loss of his wife.

Spencer stared at the photo of his wife lifeless against the kitchen floor, her blood smeared across the tiles. A single tear fell from Spencer's eyes onto the photo, the realization that he was crying never hit him. He quickly closed the file, sniffing to regain control over himself. Finally, at the bottom of the shoebox were four bottles of Dilaudid and a syringe; the same bottles Spencer had stole from Tobias.

He inhaled a shaky breath, the knot in his stomach making him feel as if he couldn't breathe. The urges to use only one more time grew stronger as the days passed, he just wanted to forget. Spencer shook his head to dismiss the thoughts as he closed the shoebox, returning the box to its original home in the closet.

Spencer had to stay clean for himself. He had to stay clean for Colette. He couldn't let the Hankle's win.