Author's Note: I've been enjoying reruns of the show at work and A&E's doing the Reid's on Drugs Arc, prompting this throwback bunny to bite me in the neck. I've always wondered how Emily and Reid had ended up with a friendship in the aftermath of his addiction and I think I've finally come up with something good.

I am not a doctor or a nurse or anything like that. I've never had to detox from anything or be around someone who has but I've had the stomach flu multiple times and from what I've seen in documentaries much of detox is similar. I know this fic is rated M but it's more for language and the detoxing itself instead of my usual spice and I hope you guys enjoy the fic.

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

"Emily…is that you?"

"Yeah. I'm coming in."

She pushed the ajar door open fully and blinked at the change in lighting. The rest of the house was dark and the curtains drawn, keeping all but the most stubborn day light out.

"I brought you some more saltines and ginger ale."

"Water."

"I'll get you some."

"Thank you."

Placing down her grocery bag, Emily Prentiss took a good look at Spencer Reid and winced. He looked absolutely terrible. He was near ghostly pale and there was a visible tremor to his form, like the slightest touch would shatter him. His lithe body was mostly on the tiled floor of his bathroom, his forearms supporting him on the toilet seat. Sweat was pouring out of him, making his honey colored hair stick to his head in curls and his bare back shine until the waistband of his gray sweats. A soft groan escaped him as she turned on the tub, quickly filling the empty water jug. His head turned to her and bloodshot hazel eyes looked at her glassily, his forearm becoming a pillow…

"You can go now. I…I got rid of all of it…and…and I threw my shoes, wallet, and my keys down the laundry chute. I…I'm not going anywhere anytime…oh, god…"

She winced as his face disappeared into the toilet basin and his whole body heaved as he vomited. It was mostly water and bile but she could see bits of the soup she had brought him the night before. Emily knelt down next to him and he gripped a handful of her hoodie sleeve like an anchor. Impulsively, she slipped behind him and hugged him as gently as she could, his coughing heaves sending his surprisingly broad shoulders into her face occasionally.

"Emily…" he whimpered as he glanced to where she had been and didn't see her.

Her hand rubbed up his spine, following the vertebrae and he looked at her with stark miserable relief as she moved her head into his field of vision.

"I'm here, Spencer…I'm not leaving you…let it out…talk to me…"

He shook his head and rasped, "…hurts…need to…but I can't…and…I can't do this…"

'That's bullshit." she dismissed with calm fire. "You've got a 187 IQ, 3 PhDs, and you're not even 30 yet. You took care of your schizophrenic mother all by yourself and you got into the fucking BAU at 23. During all that, you never gave up and you're for damned fucking sure not giving up now, not while I'm around."

His face twisted and he snapped, "Why the fuck do you even care?" before succumbing to the nausea again.

The venom didn't even faze her anymore. After he flushed the vomit to the sewer, he slumped back against her, sending them onto their asses.

"You're my friend, Spencer. You've one of the few real friends I've got and no matter how much of a bastard you are towards me, that's not changing anytime soon. I'm not gonna let you face this alone and I'm not gonna pretend this isn't happening like the others. It is and the only way you're gonna get through this intact is with help and support, which you're getting from me until you get better whether you like it or not."

His head dropped forward and he sniffled quietly, taking one of her hands. She could practically wrap her arms fully around him, indicating that he had definitely lost weight he couldn't spare. Once he was over the hump, she'd break out her Nona's recipe books and see about getting him back to full strength. Emily had always loved to cook but cooking for one lost its appeal after awhile…

"Thank you."

"The best way you can thank me is to keep fighting and get better. You think you can stand up, now?"

"Not without help."

She slid from behind him and pulled him up by the armpits, allowing him to brace a hand on the sink before pulling away. His sweats slipped down and he pulled them up quickly, a slight flush tinting his cheeks as she smiled.

"It's all right. I've seen you puke now. Besides, Spongebob boxers aren't anything to be ashamed of. We match now."

Reid snorted as she pointed at her Sandy Cheeks pajama pants and he splashed a little water on his face.

"Garcia bought them for me. Said my wardrobe needed more flare. Whatever the hell that means…I want to sleep."

"Sleep would be good. Can you make it?"

"Yeah."

Emily watched as he crossed to his bed and collapsed like a tree into the tangled bedding. She put a red bucket below where his head rested and placed the crackers, water, and soda within easy reach. Once he was situated, she pulled a mismatched pair of hospital gripper socks on his feet and started making the bed over him. The sheets were still Gain fresh, indicating that he spent the night in the bathroom and the comforters were plush in shades of blue and green, a purple one completing the set.

"You good?"

"As good as it gets."

"All right. My phone's on if you need anything and I'll be back with some more soup around 5."

She turned towards the door but a single phrase made her freeze.

"Stay with me."

"What?"

"Please? I still get…images…and…stay with me? I know it's your day off but…"

Emily held up a hand to stop him and gamely slipped into bed with him, his body turning towards her slowly.

"I'll try my best not to puke on you. No promises."

"Don't worry about that. Just sleep. I'm here for you."