FREAKING OUT ² ➢ spencer reid

XXIII

"I need you to get out of bed and play Overwatch with me right now," Luke frowned at my lifeless, depressed body. He threw his hands to his hips and walked to the side of my bed, furrowing his brow as I groaned and threw my pillow at him. "You've been down here for three days."

"So?" I threw the blanket over my head. After Maggie left, I basically quarantined myself to the confides of my bedroom, only leaving to grab snacks in the middle of the night so Luke wouldn't notice.

"Obviously something's wrong," he sighed. I felt him lower himself onto the bed, his hand finding its way to my shoulder. He gave it a tight squeeze. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"Good, because I don't," I snapped.

He chuckled and ripped the blanket off of my face. When we made eye contact I narrowed my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. I secretly hated how nice he was. It made being angry more difficult.

"C'mon. I'll make you breakfast, while you avoid your problems by shooting people over the internet." He offered me his hand, smiling as he did.

As much as I wanted to continue to sit and pout I gave in. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. He clapped his hands on my shoulders, giving them a supportive rub as he pushed me up the stairs to his bedroom. "Pancakes?" He pulled his chair out for me to sit.

I sighed as I plopped down. I moved the seat back and forth, staring lazily at one of the monitors in front of me. "Sure."

Luke gave the back of the chair a light smack with his hands, smiling once again before he threw a pair of headphones over my ears and left.

I brought my knees up to my chest and grabbed the controller in front of me. It'd been a while since I last played, so I knew for a fact that I'd probably die immediately. I went through the usual loading screens, waiting impatiently until finally I could select my character and hop right in.

The first few games sucked. I died a lot and while normally I'd be pretty alright with that, right now I was pissed. By the fourth game I was seething in anger, gripping the controller tightly in my palms as I watched my character dart around like some blindman running right into the enemies trap.

Luke returned to the bedroom, placing a cup of coffee in front of me. "Thought you could use that."

I tossed the controller aside, letting myself die for probably the tenth time as I reached for the mug with one hand and pulled the headphones off with the other. I grabbed it and blew on it lightly. The familiar smell tickled my nose, causing a warm smile to form across my lips. I hadn't had a cup of coffee in days, because I knew the second I started the pot Luke would smell it and come out running.

"Are you okay?"

"Nope," I replied flatly. I figured it was obvious at this point. Spending time alone wasn't something I enjoyed; something Luke found out pretty quickly once I moved in, so he probably knew right away something was going on.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nope." I took a sip of coffee, twirling my chair so that I was facing the monitor again.

"Fair enough," he sighed, "well, uh, food's ready."

I pushed myself out of the chair and brushed past him, taking another sip as I walked into the kitchen and sat on one of the barstools. He followed closely behind and dished up a set of plates, giving us three pancakes each. The second he put the plate in front of me I dove in, shovelling large forkfuls into my mouth. It'd been days since I had a proper meal and while I knew it wasn't appropriate to starve myself, I couldn't help it. The guilt of Reid going about his days not knowing what was going on was eating me alive and the longer I let it fester, the worse I felt.