I have a bad habit of starting stories and not continuing them. So you are warned. I probably won't update for at least 3 weeks or ever. I have this thing where I don't know how to write or I just get very bad writers block. I have no idea what I was thinking when I wrote this. I've just been a little blue and thought I'd write something. Get my thoughts out. Distract myself. So Here is my little story. If you like it I'm glad.

I don't own the characters. It's set around season 7. Drug themes.

He ran barefoot through a field of daises, lilacs and foxgloves as his mother chased him. "I'm gonna get you", she called, her long blonde hair and bright yellow dress flowing gracefully with the wind. Of course she caught him, enveloping him in her arms while peppering his face with kisses. Forgotten was the gray sky getting darker in the squeals of laughter given off by the little boy who found himself being swung through the air by his hands.

Nevertheless, all good things come to an end and so the laughter did stop for the boy's mother let go of his hands flinging him across the air. Instead of landing in the once beautiful flowers, he landed between bleeding thorns; the sound of his mother's screams filled his ears as he picked up his damaged glasses. Gray skies had become black and soon he found himself running once more. Her once sweet voice, held only malice and she was quickly gaining.

She caught him, forcing him to face her. He noticed as she raised her hand high she held a knife…

"No" he screamed "Mommy, please. Mommy!"

….

Everything slowly came into view has Reid woke up in a blissful haze. He squinted at the bright florescent light that priced his eyes causing him to groan, the pain was so strong he felt as if he might puke. His head was pounding and his body ached, but somehow he found the strength to sit up. He leaned against the tub, the cool porcelain felt good against his bare skin. He froze when he noticed the needle and small bottle filled with a transparent liquid lying a few inches away from him. His chest felt tight, his head began to spin, he was going to be sick. He lurched forward into the toilet and emptied his stomach. He wiped his mouth, flushed the toilet and laid his head on seat forcing himself to try to remember the previous night's activities, but nothing came.

He lay there quietly staring at the bottle considering if relapsing was such a bad thing. He was certain of one thing and that was that he needed it because he didn't want to be angry at JJ, Hotch or Emily anymore. He didn't want to fake a smile for Morgan and Penelope because they hadn't trusted him in their plan to find Doyle. He wished he was as good a profiler as Rossi because then maybe he wouldn't have been so in the dark those 6 months. It wasn't their fault he was weak, it wasn't their fault that he was too slow to figure it out. He wanted to sleep without nightmares, without headaches. He didn't want to dream he wanted to float away on a cloud.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. It came from the bedroom, but he ignored it, he didn't want to deal with anything today. He wanted to stay in the bathroom contemplating the bottle. Silencer filled the room, until the phone rang a second time. He took a deep breath, grabbed the bottle and crawled toward the phone. He lay beside it, but did not dare to touch it. When he rang for a third time he finally picked it up and with a rough voice answered, "Hello".

It was Hotch, who Spencer noted never sounded pleased, but always upset when it came to him just like every other alpha male in Spencer's life.

Gideon was the exception as his actions towards Spencer were always gentle like his mother's when she didn't experience an episode. He remembered when he first met Gideon, how he rambled out compliments towards the agent. The smile that smile that spread across the older man's face had given Reid a sense of accomplishment like no other and when he heard the words, "We should have coffee sometime" Reid almost fainted. Gideon was the father Spencer always wanted. Gideon never told Spencer to shut up or put him down and when he found out that Gideon had somehow convinced the BAU directors to hire him as an agent he was beyond honored. Spencer hadn't realized he had dropped the phone until he heard Hotch screaming his name.

He was fading in and out of consciousness; "I'm sorry, Hotch could you repeat that" spoke Reid softly into the air.

"Reid! Where are you!", screamed Hotch.

Reid stayed quite, he felt his body was shaking; he knew what was coming and quickly grabbed the bedside trash-bin to empty his stomach contents. As he leaned against the bed he noticed the time. The neon green like showed that he was an hour and 45 minutes late. No wonder Hotch was calling, he grabbed the phone, "I'm sorry Hotch, I'll be there soon" he was panting, sweating.

"My office as soon as you arrive"

"Yes, Sir"

The call ended.

Spencer sat in silence staring at the bottle in his hand.

….

Time appeared to be moving slower than usually, for instance, the elevator ride up towards his inescapable appointment with Hotch. Surprisingly, Reid felt indifference, in that moment all Reid wanted was to sleep, specifically with the help of the bottle that was in his pocket. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.

In his younger years, he'd show up as early just so he could ride the elevator up with Gideon. Gideon would always have a Starbucks coffee cup ready for Reid, but never himself. Reid never questioned him about it because it was obvious Gideon didn't like Starbucks and would go out of his way to get it for Reid. The conversation would start as soon as Reid took the cup and end when Reid reached his desk, but it was always perfect, until Gideon wasn't there anymore. There wasn't a reason to show up early after Gideon left.

The elevator doors dinged bringing Reid out his thoughts. He stepped out and made his way towards Hotch's office ignoring JJ's, Penelope's and Emily's glances. He knocked softly and entered when Hotch instructed to do so.

"Take a seat Reid"

Spencer felt like he was back in high school when he got into a fight and was forced to go to the principal's office. The lies would start flowing from his mouth as soon as he sat down and he'd be dismissed, but the principal wasn't a profiler like Hotch.

Hotch took his seat in front of Spencer and folded his hands together on the desk. His stoic face leaving no room for argument. Spencer knew that this was a "I talk, you listen" type of discussion.

"This is the third time you've been late this week Reid."

The statement drew confusion to the genius; he couldn't believe that he had been late three times.

"You're behavior lately has been unacceptable and if it continues I will suspend you"

"His behavior"? How had been acting? He needed answers, but he couldn't ask Hotch without causing concern. So he nodded his head, "I understand, Sir"

"Dismissed"

….

Spencer sat at his desk staring blankly at his computer screen when he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see Garcia with a cup of coffee. A small smile made its way onto his face as he reached for the cup, "Thank You" he whispered.

She sat against his desk looking at her shoes. He observed her yellow and pink dress; she wore a purple flower in her blond hair and pink glasses. Penelope was always so bright and yet it only brought Spencer down.

"Was there something you needed Garcia?"

"Morgan, Kevin and I were going out tonight and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?"

Reid noted he request came out rather timidly. Was she afraid of him? He didn't know, but he needed to find out. He had to remember. Why couldn't he remember?

"I'll think about it. Thank you for asking Garcia." Smiled Reid. Garcia smiled back, gave his shoulder a squeeze and left.

Reid sat silently staring into his coffee mug for a while then turned around and began to work.

….

Spencer found himself bent over the toilet throwing up the cup of coffee Garcia had given him. He was grateful he had declined to have lunch with the others even if Hotch and Morgan gave him disapproving looks, while JJ and Emily looked hurt. Garcia and Rossi's look was more of pity with an underlining of understanding. He was shaking and his eyes becoming teary. He hated withdrawal the first time; the next few days were going to be hell. He knew he could make his discomfort stop with the help of the bottle in his pocket, but he wanted to remember the week's events. The last thing he remembered was going to Rossi's pasta party and that had been a week ago. He coughed slightly as he flushed the toilet and leaned against the stall, holding his stomach. His lips were dry, his hair damp from the sweat, he felt a headache coming on and he felt weak.

After a few minutes, he stood up unsteadily and made his way towards the sink. Seeing his pitiful reflection in the mirror made him give out a dark chuckle. He hated the person staring back at him. That person was no longer the smartest person in the room, that person was weak, that person unrecognizable, that person he wanted to forget. He washed his hands and face then rinsed his mouth. He made his way back to his desk and continued to work at a steady pace. Usually he'd be done by now, but he didn't have the energy.

…

"So Reid, are you coming", asked Penelope

"Another time, I don't feel well tonight"

"Alright"

He hated how her face fell, but it had been a stressful day. He'd gone to the bathroom twice more and all he wanted to do was go home and sleep.

…

He lay on the beach enjoying the feel of the tide brushing against his body every time it came in. He felt another body sit beside his, but he didn't move.

"I thought you said you'd never miss another plane again"?

"I miss you"

"You know where to find me. You've known for a while. You should come for a visit"

"You won't run away?"

"I never ran away from you, Spencer"

"Then why'd you leave?" Spencer finally opened his eyes, but he found himself sitting alone.

The once sunny day had become gray; it had started raining, the soft tide had become a whirlpool and it had a hold of him. He tried to scream, but no words coming out as he was dragged under. He couldn't breathe. He was drowning.