Hello, this story is on Reid´s POV during his drug problem.

I warn you this is depressing and kind of consfusing becuase his thoughts jumps from one part to other (Because my mind does that all the time)

I hope you like it and as always, reviews are always welcomed.

I love the way it makes me feel. I know it is wrong. I am pretty sure it is illegal too but I can´t stop. No, I am not using the right verb, I DON´T want to stop.

I can feel their eyes on me. They are judging me, profiling me. Trying to figure out what is wrong with Spencer Reid. I know they care but I don´t want them to. I can take care of myself. I have done that since my eleventh birthday. I don´t need anyone second guessing my decisions. I don´t need anyone telling me what is right or wrong. Not even Gideon could do that at the end of the day.

I am not sure what I keep doing it. I mean, the first moment after the needle enters to my body everything becomes easier in many ways. My thoughts stop rushing through my mind and my whole body relaxes. There are no worries about me. No memories of horrible crime scenes or guilt of unresolved cases. It is just me and the nothing. I can´t really give a name to what I feel. It is something too complex to give it a simple and cheap name. I would call it perfection but it´s not quiet it.

Damn, I need another shot.

I pull down my sleeve and smile at Morgan and he smiles back at me; or at least he try. I can read the falseness on his eyes and it hurts me. I can´t really trust anyone in this room. They would never understand.

I stand up and excuse myself to the bathroom. I take my bag and I almost leave the room running.

I can´t breathe.

Images of Tobias haunt my dreams and my own screams have kept me awake for two days. It is almost unbearable.

I close the door behind me and then take out a little bottle full with my liquid release.

They wouldn´t understand.

I take a needle and between my thing fingers and then I do it. My heart´s beat lowers and everything is calm again. My back leans over the wall and slowly I sit on the cold floor. I still have the needle on my right hand but I can´t feel it. I can´t feel anything; again the almost perfection. Is like gaining three hundred smiles from Morgan in just one second. That thought makes me smile.

I close my eyes and I am surrounded by darkness. But this time I am not scared. I can control this darkness, at least for now.

Everything that goes up has to fall.

I don´t want this feeling to end because then is when hell starts. The moment this disappears it will be replaced by flashbacks and bad thoughts. I don´t want that. I want to be okay. I don´t want to be addicted to it but I can´t help it.

Help me.

This feels so good but as soon as good is gone bad begins. At this point there is no neutral. It is pain or relief; love or hate; fear and happiness. I want this madness to stop.

Am I crazy?

I put my head between my hands and start sobbing. The effect is gone now and I can´t control this sadness, this madness, this sorrow. I am crazy. I am just like my mom. They are going to lock me.

I am sorry mom.

It is my voice talking inside my head but this voice is so sweet and innocent. This is my past.

I want to go back.

I hear myself scream and I know this time the voice is not inside my head. I want to stop screaming but my body is disconnected from my brain. I want control. I want to be okay.

Someone is knocking at the door. No, they are pushing it. No, they are trying to open it. I am not screaming anymore but tears keep falling from my eyes. I don´t want them to see me like this. I don´t want them to see the needle in my hand. I want them to think I am okay. It doesn´t matter if I am not.

I am not okay…

The door finally falls next to me and I don´t move. Someone enters and seconds later I have a gone pointing towards me. I don´t know what to scream at them. I want them to leave but at the same time I need someone. I know I need someone even though I don´t want that. I am sorry, I want to scream but nothing comes from my mouth.

He calls my name and I started crying again. I am so ashamed. I am so hurt. He takes my hand and carefully grabs the needle out of it.

Sometimes we don´t have what we want but we have what he need.

I can feel him hugging me and telling me comforting words as he rubs my back in circles. I let him pull me towards him and I hide my face on his shoulder. He is not smiling at me and it hurts more than nothing else.

Is he worried or does he hate me? I don´t want to think about it.

What have I done?

He asks me. She asks me. Everyone asks me and I can´t answer them back.

What were you thinking? I raise my shoulders and the questions keep hitting me.

I don´t listen to them I let him drag me out of the bathroom still between his arms. They have my bag and eventually find the name of the drug. There will be more questions. I will get fired. I will end up locked up. As all this thoughts rush through my mind. I take one last look at them and then at him. The one who´s arms are wrapped around my shoulders. No one is smiling but then don´t look angry. They look disappointed.

I am sorry.

I am this time, for letting them down; for letting myself down.

"I am sorry." I mumble as I fall into unconsciousness. "Please don´t hate me."

"I would never…" Morgan starts but I am not able to hear the last part. Everything is dark around me and

...I am afraid of dark.