A/N: It flows better if you listen to Far From Home by Five Finger DeathPunch while reading. It's sad and deep, i think, please read. It's good i promise.
Spencer opened his eyes to blackness; the silver beam of the moonlight seen through the part in the curtains is the only source of light. The dark blue fabric of the curtain illuminated by the light streaming in from the window. Nothing else could be seen. Dr. Spencer Reid stared up at a blank ceiling. Images of bloody dead bodies flashed slowly across his vision. Reminders of his all too real nightmares. He closed his eyes to the memories. He reached his arms up to the pillow behind his head and clutched at the soft fabric under his finger tips.
The day before was one of the worst, the case told of a young girl, no older than 17, that had been ripped apart, sliced, cut, beaten and starved. Reid could see her unrecognizable body behind his eyelids. She lay scattered across a dead field. A couple walking through the woods had found her. The woman hadn't stopped weeping till she was taken away and given a blanket. The victim was hard to dictate as human till her head was found. Dead, shallow eyes wide open in horror. Other than a finger or two, this was the last piece of her that could be considered as human, the rest were too far gone to tell. Reid remembered walking up to the crime scene. The sound of the dead leaves and grass still fresh in his ears. What he remembered most was not the mess that used to be human, but the feeling he got when he looked into her eyes. His vision had blurred, tunneled out and his knees gave way. His limp body fell into Derek's sturdy arms. Spencer thought on that feeling now. Why he fainted, he fainted not because of how horrifying it was, not because of the smell, or the way her dead eyes called for help. He fainted cause he could feel what she felt. One look in her eyes and he knew how scared she was when she saw that blade thrust down at her body. The terror she endured when her blood poured out and splattered on the cold floor bellow. He fainted because he wanted to cry, to scream, to fight back, to do something! But the feeling was too much, all he could do was fall.
Spencer remembered everything, he remembered too much. All the cases, all the pain, all the tears, all the lonely nights he spent alone, unable to sleep without seeing the crime scenes all over again. He rested his hands on his face as tears rolled down his cheeks. Deep sobs erupted from his throat as those small tears started to pour over his eye lids. How could he go on, how do people forget? How do the others not break down and scream? How can they go on with the lives they lead? Why can't he? He prayed for the day to come when he could no longer remember even his own name, when all he knows slowly falls away. As if it never happened, never would happen.
Spencer turned over on his side and crunched himself into a little ball. Holding his head close to his chest. He put his hands on his ears to block out the world, his heart thumping loudly through his head. Maybe if he stayed here the world would go away. Sink into nothingness. And he could stay there, always. Thinking of nothing and being nothing. But he couldn't. He rolled back onto his back when he could no longer cry, when all his tears dried up. Staring once more at the meaningless ceiling. His mind all the while still turning, never able to not think, to just stop. Did anyone even know what he felt? What ran through his mind at all hours of the night? Probably not. He felt damned. Doomed to fall to hell. To forever float in the river Styx. He's seen too much to go to heaven. He would ruin heaven for all the people who deserved to go there if he tried to get in. But he didn't argue that point, hell seemed like the place for him.
Spencer climbed out of his bed and walked to his window. He pushed the curtains away and opened the glass. Cool august air rolled over his skin, bringing with it the smell of wet pavement and dead leaves. He pushed the screen out and climbed onto the roof. He walked to the edge, his toes hanging into the rain gutters. The water slickened roof tar cold under his warm feet. He raised his arms straight out at his sides, the cool breeze blowing at his t-shirt, pressing it tight to his body. His pajama pants waving slightly in the wind. He breathed in deep the scent of the night, the moon's light bathing his body in it's cool glow. He raised himself up onto the balls of his feet. One last breath of air pulled deep into his lungs. He breathed it out with a contented sigh and a small, relaxed smile as he tipped forward and let gravity take it's hold.
A/N: I can't tell you what happens next, you'll have to wait till i write the sequal to find out what happens to Spencer. I know, i'm mean, please stay tuned for the next bit. Hope you liked it, and i hope to be finishing the next part soon. Till then... Peace -Lexi