The Keeping of Words | Spencer Reid

13 |Salute

"To respect the dignity of a relationship also implies accepting the end when it comes. Except in my mind, except in my dreams, where the aftertaste of her still lingers." – Andre Brink

Five weeks in a row he'd shown up on JJ's doorstep. Five weeks in a row she let him in, let him sob on the living room couch while she held his hand. Sometimes he worried he was becoming a burden, but, he reminded himself, that's what family did. They were there for each other. Reid still saw the rest of his team day in and day out, but JJ rarely saw them anymore. Maybe she needed to talk as much as he did, he consoled himself. And he, well he figured it was best if he wasn't left alone.

Lately his body itched for something he hadn't taken in nearly four years. It would be so easy, to procure a bottle. He could claim it was for his leg, that he'd aggravated the old injury. As for the needles, those would be even easier. He thought about it. Oh yes, he thought about it far too often. An eidetic memory left the sensation of every high crystal clear in his mind. One little push of a plunger, and he wouldn't have to think about everything he'd lost. His friend. His mind. His sanity.

And her. She was an entirely different problem, every bit as addictive as Dilaudid and just as tempting. How many nights had he sat in bed awake, remembering every conversation they'd had? He couldn't shake the memories of her touch, how good it felt to hold her in his arms, how when he kissed her his brain was blissfully blank and every sense trained on her.

The familiar feeling would bubble up in chest, warm and strong. Until his mind betrayed him again, replaying instead the tears in her eyes as she stood in the doorway trying not to cry in front of him, her hands wrapped around her small and shaking frame, the pain in her voice as she beggedhim to stay. And how he'd walked away with everything he'd given her that year, walked away from the only person outside of his team who made him feel understood and safe. The feeling in his chest turned cold, heavy, and hollow.

Reid stared at his bedroom wall, with the sinking knowledge that he wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon. Dilaudid would let him sleep. Sleep, forget, ignore. And when it wore off, it would all come crashing back, coupled with the shame and guilt that had always followed his drug use.

He was an addict in need of a fix, but exactly what was broken he couldn't say. Taking inventory of his life resulted in too many answers to that question. His heart, having let go of Bianca. His faith in his work, having been unable to save Prentiss. His family, now missing two vital members. His head, constantly pounding until his skull threatened to crack open.

It would be so easy to get just a quick hit. Obtain the supplies, make the quick tourniquet around his arm, push the plunger, and let it all float away until he was empty and hollow and high. No high lasted forever though, that was the bitter irony of pleasure. It came and made things feel better before it vanished, leaving you feeling worse than before.

That was true of love and all other drugs, natural or manufactured. Nothing could take away the pain forever, it could only provide a temporary escape.

Sleep wasn't going to come, and Reid decided he could no longer trust himself to be alone. With all the willpower he could muster, he traded his pajamas for his wrinkled clothing and grabbed his car keys. If he couldn't stay here without the constant pull of temptation, he needed to leave.

Make that six weeks in a row he had shown up on JJ's doorstep crying.

[ || ]

Three weeks ago, after he walked out of her life, she had started packing. Keeping busy prevented her from dwelling on the still-fresh wound she felt in her heart. The first day was the worst. There was anger and there was sorrow, but she wasn't sure precisely who she was mad at or what made her feel so sad. There were too many possible answers, options that all left her feeling cold as they piled up like snow in the winter, a white sheet to bury her heart under.