The Videotape

The Hideout - Part 1

Spencer came crashing through the old rustic metal door, just managing to keep himself from falling to the floor. Once on the roof, he finally remembered to breathe. He didn't know how long he'd been holding his breath for, but what he did know how messed up everything has become. How could this all be happening? Why is this happening? Spencer wanted to curl up and die that very second, but that wouldn't solve anything, nor will it save Kento. 

Reid's stomach starting doing summersaults, his chest grew tighter and tighter by the second, and his heart rate picked up. Spencer gripped hold of his shirt, creating creases in the ridge of his fingers as if that would release the pressure that was pushing down on his chest. Quickly, he loosened his tie, desperately trying to breathe. Taking gasps of air every chance he got, he found his way stumbling to the old bench that sat near the edge of the roof. This was where a lot of the agents use to come to smoke, but it's been a long time since anyone has been up here, so Reid uses it as his own personal space, which he likes. 

Spencer's body felt heavy and uncomfortable, but he managed to drag himself over to the bench. Plumping himself down, he laid his head in his hands as they rested on his knees, breathing became more and more strenuous. Reid started to pant rapidly as images raced through his mind, images of his teammate's faces as they sat watching the video, faces of disgust and loathing. But, this feeling, this feeling that felt as if it was crushing Reid from the inside isn't just because of the video, but because of Hotch. Spencer suspected Aaron knew what was going on from the moment Reid stepped into the roundtable room, but he played the video anyway. How could Hotch hurt him like that? Why? Reid couldn't answer that, his brain was running so quickly he couldn't catch up. He needed something to calm down, picking up his bag as he scrambled through the contents. A small vile struck his hand, slowly bringing it out as his gripped tightened. Dilaudid. 

It had been a while since his last high, and god did he crave the feeling of feeling absolutely nothing, no worries, no pain, and no sadness. But, he promised, he promised Kento he wouldn't. Shoving the vile back into the depths of his bag and instead, he pulled out a smaller, cardboard box. The cigarettes had become slightly crushed in the bottom of his bag, not worrying, he takes one out and placing it between his dry, pink lips. Pulling out his lighter, sparking the flint till the soft glow of sparks flew and a flame arose. Taking a drag, filling his lungs with the toxic smoke, despite knowing the statistics, science, maths behind smoking, he didn't care because he finally felt as if he could breathe again. 

Back in the roundtable room, nobody knew quite what to say, deathlike silence echoed throughout. The screen which previously held the video of Spencer and Kento showed nothing but emptiness with the black screen. Shouta was fuming, he paced a little before pulling the chair harshly and taking a seat with an intentionally loud sigh. Everyone clocked this and switch focused from the space they were lost in, to Shouta who sat crossed armed staring at the ceiling. "Got something to say Shouta?". Hotch's tone was flat and blunt, not an ounce of remorse in his voice, this annoyed Shouta even more.

"Are you even sorry?". Shouta asked aggressively. He was now sat up, eyes locked on Hotch. 

"For what?".

"Really Hotchner?". 

"He shouldn't have lied to us". Hotch looked down at the paperwork in front of him, pretending to read through it. 

"Are you a child?". Shouta was getting riled up. "No matter what happened, that was way out of line!". 

"What's the big deal?". Hotch said, keeping his flat tone. 

"What's the big deal? Really Hotchner - Spencer has been trying to find the courage to tell you guys, but instead you embarrassed and humiliated him!". Shouta was beginning to get enraged.