So, this is my first fanfic. I'm a huge fan of Criminal Minds! I hate Will, so so much. I also love JJ/Reid. In this story, Prentiss never 'died'. There was never a Valhalla, or a Maeve.
Spencer Reid was, to put it simply, hammered.
The young genius was downing shot after shot at the local club he had run to after the reception of JJ's wedding. That was it, that was the last nail in the coffin. He was truly alone. JJ was gone, to him at least. He tried to be happy for her, and the alcohol was trying for him, too, but he couldn't help but brood. He knew what marriage meant, it meant that his best friend was gone.
It meant that his childish dreams of the precious 'Happily Ever After', were lost. With this morbid thought, he swallowed more of the bitter liquid in his glass. Reid's vision was swimming, and the loud, pulsating music was giving him a headache, but tonight, he didn't care. He normally never ever drank, but he did admit that the numbing feeling it gave his brain was savory.
Why then did he feel the need to drink away his problems? Simple. He was in love with his best friend. The best friend that had a child. And now a husband.
Reid groaned, and slurped down the clear vodka once again. He was stripped down to just his dress shirt and slacks, and had absolutely no idea where his jacket and bow tie had gone. It was a rental, too.
Oops. Oh well.
The burly bartender went to refill his glass, but Spencer stopped him.
"Just give me the whole damn thing," he said, surprised his speech was coherent and without any slurs. The bartender shrugged, and handed the large, filled bottle to the BAU agent, sensing he needed it.
Reid coughed slightly and gulped the alcohol greedily. He gingerly set the bottle down, and closed his eyes, repeating the mantra 'she's not yours, she's not yours' in his head over and over again. His heart felt shattered, and the still sane part of his mind tried to assure it; they all knew this was coming eventually. He opened his eyes and laughed at nothing, but everything at once. He was God's punch line, wasn't he?
His mom's getting worse by the minute, he's lost his best friend, he's lost his love, he's lost his faith in humanity.
Eh, at least he was useful for something.
His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his shirt collar was undone, his hair was a complete mess, but he paid that no mind. He grabbed the vodka again, the burning liquid rolled down his throat, comforting him.
Spencer was banging his head against the counter top before he even knew it, trying to get the image of JJ and Will kissing out of his head. It seemed to be branded into the backs of his eye lids. A choked sob escaped his lips, and he felt a wetness on his cheek. He hurriedly wiped the tears away, there was no reason to be a baby and cry.
Be happy for her! He mentally screamed to himself. No matter what he told himself, it didn't make the pain hurt any less.
He spent most of his night like that, drinking, sulking, wallowing. He had lost track of time, and when the bartender had escorted him out when the club closed, he didn't remember much at all.
Reid found himself in the morning, cradling the bottle and wrapped in his bed sheets, wearing the same thing he had last night. He had a killer hangover, but he had successfully managed to replace the wedding in his mind with thoughts of serial killers and zombies, you know, comforting things.
He grabbed his phone, noticed the time and the number of missed calls, and let out a mighty groan. It was 2:30. He was supposed to be at work at 7:00. The latest to try and contact him was Hotch, 30 minutes ago. He redialed the number and put the phone on speaker as he fixed his morning coffee.
He splashed some vodka into the beverage, once again in his misery. On the fourth ring, Hotch answered.
"Agent Hotchner speaking."
"Hotch, this is Reid, I'm not feeling well. I think it's time I take a vacation. I was hoping maybe three weeks, if that's alright."
Spencer sipped his spiked coffee, and listened to what Hotch had to say.
"Of course, Reid, I know you've been worried about your mother. If you need anything, I'm a phone call away."
"Thanks, Hotch. I'll let you know when I'm coming back."
"Hotch out."
The beep signalling the end of the call was loud in his ear, and left him to drink. When he had drained his coffee, he put the cup in the sink and grabbed his keys from the rack on the side of his kitchen. Not bothering to change, he walked out of his door, and locked it behind him.
He stumbled down the stairs, the light in the hallway blinding him. Miraculously, he made it to his car without trouble. He shoved the sunglasses he had stored in his glove box over his eyes and pulled out of his parking spot. The rowdy streets were hell, and contributed to his growing headache. He endured the pain until he pulled into the club's parking lot.
He slammed the door, and walked into the club, ready to spend the first day of his vacation.
After two weeks, he had come to a routine. He was at the club, drinking away his sorrow, from the time the doors opened to the time that they closed.
He'd learned that the bartender was named Carl, who had affectionately given him the nickname, "Drunk Jesus", as he had grown a fluffy beard since the wedding, and now looked like the pictured Jesus. He'd also learned and perfected twenty drinks, but his favorite was tied between straight vodka, the Jesus Jackhammer, and the Adios Motherfucker.
Spencer was currently downing a Suicidal, leaning on the counter and talking to Carl.
"Well, Drunk Jesus, I know it hurts. But she has a little kid, right? He needs a dad, just like you needed one."
Having spilled his entire life story to Carl, Reid was comfortable talking to the bald bartender, "It's just, it sucks that she never even considered me. You know, I once went with her to a Redskins game, and she must have reminded me that we were 'just friends' twelve times that day. I mean, I know I'm not a handsome or buff guy, but still."
Carl looked at him strangely, "Drunk Jesus, why did you like her after she did that to you at the game? You deserve someone that appreciates what you've got, man. You gotta let her go."
At this time, Lola, the other bartender came across them while wiping down the counter. Reid had talked to her, too.
"Listen, Jesus, Baldie's right. You need a girl who loves what you think are flaws. She needs to love everything about you, not just the outside. I know this JJ means the world to you, and so does her kid. You need to get away from her for a while. Now I'm not saying ignore her, but time heals all wounds, you know? You can't heal if your always around what's cutting ya," Lola sanctioned, throwing her towel over her black t-shirt.
Carl shot Lola a dirty look at her referencing to him as 'Baldie', "Besides DJ, your not hideous. You got Lila Archer, Lila Archer, to make out with you! That's something!"
It was a well known fact that Carl was obsessed with Lila, but not in a bad way. Reid smiled into his now empty glass at the memory, and Lola slid him a new drink. He took a sip, deduced it was an Incredible Hulk, and then frowned again. (Not at the drink, of course)
"I don't know though, it's just so weird that she out of the blue decided to marry him. She was with Will for years before they actually, tied the knot. I'm worried that she only agreed to do it out of panic, I'm worried that whatever reason she decided not to marry him is going to pop up now."
"You're a profiler, right?" Carl asked, sounding serious. He gave Spencer a hard look through his grey eyes.
Reid nodded, gulping down the drink.
"Was she smiling on her wedding day?"
Reid nodded again.
"Then if she's happy, don't you think those flaws, those reasons, are gone? I know you said you don't profile each other, but try to when you get back. If she's changing, if she's not herself, then you know why, you'll know that the reasons came back. And you'll help her. That's just who you are, Jesus."
Spencer gave a tight lipped smile, it didn't quite reach his eyes, but it still showed that he understood.
"DJ, if your really concerned about your looks, don't be. Your actually really hot. You need any tips on clothes, because trust me you do, come to me. You've been in that outfit for two weeks. Trust me, jeans and a t-shirt do wonders for a guy. Anyways, bar's a closing, cya tomorrow, Drunk Jesus," Lola winked at him, and grabbed his empty glass.
Reid blushed at the compliments, and at his clothing. Nodding, and slightly drunk, he walked out of the club, and hailed a cab home.
Derek Morgan was starting to worry. Hotch had let them know that Reid had decided to go on vacation, but still, fifteen days and no call? That was unlike Reid. He hadn't contacted any of the team at all after he had disappeared from JJ's wedding, and Derek was starting to wonder what was going on.
The agent sighed, he would visit Reid tomorrow, just to make sure he was okay. Morgan was stressed. JJ was looking more and more frustrated since her wedding. He didn't think it was anything serious, she was always cranky when Reid wasn't at work. But it still spiked a small degree of worry, not anything to act on though.
They were as close as he and Penelope were, so he figured maybe JJ was just upset that he hadn't stayed long at her wedding. Derek shrugged into his jacket. He'd have to talk to Penelope about it.
After another night at Orion, the club where he drank at, Reid woke up in the morning, determined to start putting this behind him. His vacation was, after all, almost over.
Was he still hurting? Yes. Did drinking help numb the pain? Yes. Was wallowing and drinking healthy for him? No.
The genius had decided to go out and shop, and after a conversation with Lola over the phone, he had picked out some comfortable, yet casual clothes. She had approved, especially after he had shaved and gotten a hair cut.
He was sitting at home, in his favorite chair, watching Star Trek and sipping non-alcoholic coffee. He wasn't paying much attention to the show, though. Instead, he was pondering over JJ. And Henry. And Will. Reid sighed. Carl was absolutely right. He loved Henry, and Henry needed Will. JJ had never seen him in that way. She wasn't his. She was way out of his league.
"Listen Reid, you don't have to like it. But you have to accept it. Life is a book, it was written this way from the start," He told himself, desperately aching to believe it.
The pang in his heart, or what was left of it, was painful. But one thought of Henry, and he could ignore it. He loved his godson, and he'd do anything for him. Lost in his thoughts as he was, Spencer hardly noticed the knock on his door.
The second time, it was louder, and broke him out of his reverie. He rose from his seat, and walked towards the door. He opened it, surprised to see Morgan standing there.
"Can I come in?" Morgan asked, smirking as Reid quickly scrambled out of the way and gestured him in.
Morgan looked around, pleased to see the apartment neat and Reid-like, "So how's it been going, Kid? I feel like I haven't seen you forever. You don't visit, you don't write, you don't call!"
The last part he said jokingly, with the underlying message clear: What's going on?
It didn't go unnoticed by the young agent, "I've just been relaxing, getting a hold of my thoughts, you know."
Derek took a seat on the comfy couch, "We've been worried about you, Reid. You just vanished at JJ's wedding, and no one knew where you went. Then the next day you take three weeks off? Out of the blue? It's not just that, either. You didn't call or text any of us, not me or Garcia or JJ or anyone! You never do that. What's going on, man?"
Reid sighed.
"Look, Derek, I was just in serious need of some alone time. My mom's been getting worse, more bad days then good. I had to get the world back under my feet. I'm sorry I worried you guys, but I've been busy figuring out what it all means."
"What what means?"
"Everything, I guess. I'm human too, you know. My heart hurts too. Just because I know a bunch of statistics doesn't make me a robot incapable of feeling. I hit a breaking point, alright? I needed to deal with it, I'm still dealing with it. Let me handle this my own way." The statement was soft, but forceful. Morgan could tell he was on thin ice, and that if he probed more, Reid would start getting defensive.
He put his hands in the air, in surrender. "Okay, okay. You're fine, that's all I wanted to know. I gotta get going, Garcia invited me out to a movie. Your welcome to come, Kid, if you want to. Nice new outfit, by the way. And hair cut. You and I should hit the club sometime soon, we could be wingmen!"
Reid broke a smile at the giddy expression on Morgan's face, "We'll see."
Morgan gave Spencer a bro-hug before leaving, already thinking of all the women they could pick up. Reid closed the door behind him.
He sighed and went back to thinking. Let her go.
When the day he had to go back to work came, Spencer was actually glad. He got up early and dressed in jeans and a plain, dark red shirt, with some old and battered red converse.
He left his hair mussed up, and had a nice cup of coffee while he drove to the BAU office. His messenger bag was filled with books, ibuprofen, and, admittedly, motivational phrases to keep him from doing something stupid around JJ.
He was at his desk before anyone had arrived, and was sifting through paperwork before he knew it, determined to keep his conversations with JJ limited and congratulatory. Reid found himself humming and in a fantastic mood, his clothes were less stuffy and allowed for less constricting movement, his coffee was great, and his chair had been fixed over his vacation, making it so that it was no longer lopsided or squeaky.
One by one the BAU members began to sift in, each surrounding his desk and talking to him, filling him in on what he had missed. The last to arrive though, was JJ.