CHAPTER 1: PILOT

(Takes place in season 2)

The cold air pinched his cheeks as he let out a shaky breath. The warm carbon dioxide was visible by the isolated street lamp the skinny man was slouched under.

He had promised himself he wouldn't do this to himself, he promised himself that he would stop, ween himself off of the haven. They were both empty promises as the young mad found himself yet again waiting for a refill of dilaudid.

The silence of the peaceful night was soon interrupted by the crackling of snow and frost underneath near approaching tires.

Head dropped he crossed his arms defensively over his chest and dragged his feet to the car, stopping in front of the passenger's side. Suddenly feeling self conscious of his small frame and sweater vest.

The window seemed to take minutes rolling down, revealing two somewhat freaky looking men. "Dilaudid?" The driver said, more than asked.

He nodded.

"Get in Spencer." The passenger chuckled and quickly dug through a paper bag.

He obeyed and climbed into the back seat clutching his messenger bag to his chest nervously. He hated this. He hated that he was trapped in a small space with these dangerous people. He hated that he had let himself get this low.

The driver started the car and continued to drive down the seemingly deserted road.

"Five blocks up and four left... Please." Spencer mumbled. Searching the bag for his cash, his shaking hands not helping much with this task.

The passenger handed Spencer two phials of clear liquid and about 20 pills in a small bag. "Four hundred."

"But.. It was three hundred and fifty last time." The back seat rider furrowed his brow.

"Hey if you don't want it." The passenger said reaching back for the drugs.

Spencer frantically pulled them back from the mans reach. "Fine! Fine, here." Reluctantly he grabbed another 50 dollar bill and forked over $400.

Ignoring the men's chuckle in the front Spencer went into his own world as he took out a syringe from his bag. Why was he doing this? Sticking it into the stopper he filled it with exactly 5cc. Not too much.

"Make it quick Spencer. We have another deal down town." The driver stated turning the corner.

Looking back down he put the remaining liquid and pills into the inside pocket of his bag and focused back to the syringe. He turned it upside down flicked it with his long fingers and pushed the small air bubbles out. Grabbing a ternaquit from the car floor, that was conveniently laying around, he rolled up his right sleeve and tied it above his elbow. He cringed at the crook of his arm, track marks speckled his bruised arm.

He looked up noticing two pairs of eyes glaring at him. Waiting for him.

Looking back to his arm trying to ignore the dealers he found a vein, with a bit of difficulty due to the dim light. Finally locating a vein he stuck the needle in and pushed the dilaudid into his system with the plunger.

He untied the tornaquit.. Welcoming relief came over him and he fluttered his eyes closed. The numb feeling always felt so good, but not being completely aware for the first few minutes had always bothered Spencer. He let his head lean against the seat, allowing his mouth to open ever-so-slightly and his body fully relax as the glorious feeling washed over his being.

His fingers twitched against the soft fabric of the car seat, he hadn't noticed how soft the run down looking seats really were. He could hear people talking, laughing too. But the words were too fuzzy to understand. Not that he cared either way, nothing they were saying mattered at this moment anyway.

Eventually the fuzziness faded when he felt rough and heavy hands grip his upper right upper arm. He sluggishly opened his eyes and recognized the passenger from the front seat.

"Times up Spencer." He growled and violently ripped the smaller man from the car and threw him roughly into the dirty roadside slush. Dazed, Spencer fell on to his back achieving a soaking and cold jacket. The passenger smiled sinisterly before spitting, "See you when your supply runs low." With that he winked at the shaking man on the ground and got back into the car. The old mustang convertible sped off quickly causing the muddy slush to fly into the air behind the tires, drenching the already wet man.

Spencer sat up and watched as his dealers car sped off. Focusing back to his situation, he pulled out the needle in his arm with a wince and put it into his bag, that had also, thankfully, been thrown out of the car along with him. His dealers hadn't dropped him off where he wanted them to though; he looked around, and recognized the neighborhood quickly. It was around were Derek Morgan lived. His co-worker and very close friend. He would be glad to see him, right? He was a bit shaken up from what had just happened and he didn't want to walk home from this distance, especially with a wet coat and being... Well high. The melted snow on his back bit into his skin, and he quickly noticed a snow flake carfully drift down and land on his brown shoe. Now it was snowing, he stated obviously to himself. He checked the time on his watch, 9:30. He had said 'drop in when ever you want kid, my door is always open.' He heard Morgan's echo in his narcotic filled head.

Reaching for his phone he pulled it out and scrambled to his feet, momentarily dizzy. He would stay until his coat dried and then get out of his friend's hair, (not wanting to be too much of a bother) he decided, hitting speed dial number 4 causing the phone to produce monotone rings in awaiting for the receiver to answer.

After a few rings the other end echoed the sound of Morgan's voice, instantly relieving the young, rattled man. "Hey Reid, what's up?"

"Hey.. Uh.." How was he supposed casually invite himself over?

-For the second time this week for that matter. The last time his excuse was the neighbors were having a party next door.-

"Reid? You there?" Morgan asked over the background noise of the TV.

"Yeah I'm here.. I was just- um.. Do you wanna hang out?" He flinched at the embarrassment of his own words.

"Yeah of course." Morgan knew the younger man wasn't just asking to 'hang out'. Spencer sighed inwardly. "My house?" Morgan asked already knowing the answer was going to be a yes.

"Yeah"

This neighborhood was quite nice and also quiet, mostly consisting of small and sweet families. It only took a few minutes for Spencer to get Morgan's house, it was only a few blocks from where he had been dropped off.

His stiff-from-the-cold hand quickly knocked on the wooden door. Morgan's home was very nice, just like the neighborhood, it was a large two bed and two bath duplex, and It always felt so comfortable to Spencer. The yellow tinted sidings of the house made it look happy and the flowers outside, most likely planted by the land lord, completed the perfect look.

Seconds later there was the sound of a lock being turned and the jiggling of a door nob. The door swung inward revealing the dark skinned older man Spencer considered his bestfriend. "Hey buddy th-" the profiler stopped talking and looked over the younger agent. The dim porch light showed heavy circles underneath the man's eyes, along with messy hair and a cold shivering body. "Geez Reid you must be freezing, get in here." Morgan stepped back in order for Spencer to come through the threshold into the toasty home of his.

Spencer allowed his friend to remove his wet cotton jacket and place it on the coat rack. Thankful Morgan hadn't questioned him about suddenly wanting to 'hang out'. After the fourth visit this month he figured asking was futile as Spencer's answer would always be, 'fine, I was just bored.'. Although you didn't have to be a profiler to see through the lie. The older man was just thankful Spencer had felt comfortable enough to come to him when he needed someone.

"Thanks." Spencer smiled.

The warm home looked more like a bachelor pad than it did from outside. A TV and entertainment system facing an uncomfortable black couch and a lazyboy was the consisted furniture in the living room. To the left of the mud room was a lavish kitchen filled with the latest cooking appliances, the bathroom down the hall was littered with shavers, man things and already-worn clothes tossed aside the standing shower. Over all a little messy but considering the fact that Morgan was rarely there it was understandable. Though the walls, like outside, were a bright yellow tint making even Morgan's "bachelor pad" look full of love and happiness, like the perfect family home. Spencer visibly relaxed.

"Make yourself at home kid." Morgan smiled motioning for his younger friend come in further. "Wanna watch some TV? I have the history channel.. Your favorite?"

A cold sensation on his ankle caused Spencer to slightly jump, looking down to see the white bulldog sniffing him and frantically wagging his little stump for a tail. Most dogs weren't very fond of him but Clooney seemed to like him a lot. Kneeling down Spencer petted the small dog carfully and responded to Morgan's question, "that would be great." He smiled up at the older man who didn't miss the desperation in his voice but again chose not to press the matter.

Minutes after watching a documentary on whales, Spencer's heavy head was leaned back against the wall, his pink lips slightly agape letting out small repeated snores. Body limply sprawled on the uncomfortable couch and accompanied by a happily panting Clooney perched on the young man's lap. The history channel now changed to ESPN and Morgan snapping a picture of the sweet seen of his little brother and dog.

I do not own criminal minds nor do I own the characters, I am merely using them. This story is from my own imagination and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I love Reid and I love putting him through shit :) also expect some physical whump in this too later on. Anyway please review if you liked my first chapter. Thank you always lovelies.