Ever since Y/N joined the bau, Reid has found a way to make her life a living hell. He doesn't understand her nor wants to, not until he overhears a conversation which makes him think otherwise. She isn't a quiet, genius FBI agent, she has problems...
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warnings: mentions of alcohol addiction and suicide. if you are extremely sensitive to suicide, please skip this chapter!! i will give you guys a recap next chapter.
suicide hotline: 800- 273-8255
You sit alone in your apartment, the rain doing nothing more than setting you in a darker mood. You stare at the turned off T.V., your mind flashing memories of your mom and dad laying in their hospital beds.
You can't escape it. You have tried so hard to find light in the darkness that took over your life, but you fail. No matter how many times Reid jokes around with you or the hundreds of dance parties you have in Garcia's cave, your mind resets and you remember the shitty life you have.
You stand up from the couch you're sitting on and walk towards the locked cabinet across from your bookshelf. You lift a small porcelain plate and take the key from underneath, sticking it inside of the lock. You turn it and pull open the cabinet door, revealing the bottles of alcohol lined up.
You sit crisscross in front of the cabinet and stare at the full bottles, your mind reading the labels in a split second. You don't want to drink. It'll momentarily take away the pain, and you wanted to get rid of it for good.
As you stare at the bottles, a sob emerges from the back of your throat. Your stomach tenses as you let out a guttural cry, your vision impaired from the tears that welled in your eyes, now streaming down your face.
You wanted to see your dad, see where he was, his state of mind. He was dying and you couldn't do anything to stop it. If he's already dead, you want to see him. And you know how.
You grab a bottle of tequila and your phone that's placed on the living room table. You lift yourself up from the ground, your tears splashing against the wooden floor, leaving a trail. Your legs tremble as you walk to the kitchen, your heart and body going numb. Maybe this wasn't the best idea, but it was an idea.
You open a cabinet and push past the pill bottles, reaching for your depression medication from a few months ago. You never took it. It made you nauseous and tired all the time, it even worsened your anxiety.
You close the cabinet and grab your bottle of tequila, taking a seat on the cold wooden floor. Your sobs fill the room, your chest heaving as you have a hard time breathing.
Your life wasn't going to get any better, so what was the point of trying? No one was going to miss you anyways. Your dad was dying, hell, your mom probably was too. If you didn't have your parents here and you were already a ghost to the team, there was no way they would notice.
Reid won't miss you. You're crazy. You drink and you're desperate for his attention, there's no way he's interested in you.
But he's the one person you want to call in this moment. He won't come in time to save you, and that's why he's your first choice.
