The Red Lounge ~Spencer Reid x Reader ~

Selfish

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uOoGBUSYZtg

Waking up to the repetitive beeping was not what I expected when my eyes opened to the recovery room of the hospital. I looked around, my head aching and my eyes blurry. I turned my hands over, and they were wrapped in a few layers of clean gauze. The dry taste in my mouth that was tinged slightly with the taste of rum made me wonder why I didn't have a hangover, but the IV in my arm answered that quickly. I groaned, closing my eyes against the bright lights and turned my head, my eyes opening to see a man's jacket over the seat. I recognized it immediately, and so when Spencer entered the room, I wasn't surprised. He rushed to my side, but hesitated at the last second. Pausing a few feet from the edge of my bed.

"Hi." He said quietly.

"Why are you here?" I asked, not accusing, but surprised and hurt. His face fell, and he sat in the seat across from me.

"I know you don't want to see me-"

"That's not what I said." I interrupted, and his face was a curious mixture of nervous, happy, and sad. "I asked why you're here. I thought you would be gone by now." I could read the clock on the wall. It was 8 am. The last thing I remembered was a few hours to sunset.

"You didn't come back. We went looking for you, and when I couldn't find you-" He cleared his throat, looking to the floor as he tried to compose himself. "I assumed the worst." I nodded, turning my head back to face forward, my mind spinning. Drugs only did so much.

"What happened?" I asked, the missing time not helping ease my worries about the gauze on my extremities, or the pounding in my head. Did... did I crash? Fuck, did I kill someone?

"What do you remember?" He questioned, and I looked to him out of the corner of my eyes, and he was watching me expectantly.

"I remember driving around. I bought rum. I remember drinking it, and then I... there was pain, and..." I shook my head.

"You hit your head on a gravestone. You must have smashed a bottle because there was glass in your hands and arms." He sighed. "(Y/n), you have to know how lucky you are that nothing more happened." I scoffed, turning my face away from him. "No, you're not just going to turn away from me. Look at me." I obeyed, my mind still catching up, only when I remembered I was angry at him did I glare at him.

"Why are you really here?" He looked at me, confused.

"What?"

"Why are you really here? If you were just concerned about my safety, which is your job, you would be gone by now." I replied angrily, closing my eyes to a sudden wave of dizziness.

When I opened them, I saw his face set in a serious line. "I always stay with victims until they wake up." He replied easily. "Part of my job is making sure that those the FBI assists are aware of the outcome of their case and or that they are prepared to go back into the community." I scoffed, shaking my head despite the pain. So I was just a victim to him now? That's all I was. All this time it all boiled down to that. Could he really separate himself from me that easily?

It made sense really, people had done it before. Avery fucked off to the army, barely writing or calling, and when he did it was just to give me updates or to talk for a bit. I could usually tell that he was probably going on a big mission because he would sound stressed. None of my friends had talked to me after high school, and good riddance honestly. Same with college, when I graduated we all went our separate ways besides me and Aiden. The few friends I did still have weren't around much. That trip before I found out Aiden was cheating on me was a rare thing. Turns out they knew about the affair and he had asked them not to tell me. I dropped them real quick. But I did note that I saw them in the courtroom for Jamie's trial.