It's my first criminal minds story in english language, so please be patient with me. I wrote it already in german and it takes me some time to translate it, so the chapter is a bit short!

I don't own criminal minds and I don't earn money with that.

He hated it, when he should talk in front of other people, but he hated it much more, when others stared at him. And now seven people directed her looks on him, waiting impatiently for him to tell why he was here, what had happened that it came so far. He never felt that he belonged to somewhere or someone, but finally he felt here totally wrong, this wasn't place he should be. He wasn't like the other, not the freaked out junkie like they were. In the last days he heard all their stories, he was completely different. He hadn't been criminal, stealing or maybe killing other people, he wasn't addicted like them, he was a FBI Profiler, he didn't have anything in common with them. But a look on the puncture marks on his arms told him very clearly that he wasn't that kind of different.

He was addicted, knowing the abyss he walked along during the last months, that he lied to his friends, the effort to hide being addicted to Dilaudid and the worst thing, the lie he believed that he could handle it. Spencer Reid totally lost control about himself and his whole life. At least his breakdown during a case in Phoenix had been so necessary to stop him from destroying himself. He had an accidentally overdose and would have died, if Emily hadn't found him in due time. His breakdown made it impossible for him to hide any longer to he was a drug addict. The other team members had their own suspicions what was wrong with him, why he was so aggressive or so absent. They tried to talk to him, hoping he would realize that they were his friends nearly his family, but nothing happened. The first days in the hospital he didn't want to see anyone of them, too painful to see them after he had disappointed them so much. They must hate him, be angry on him for acting this way. All the offering to help came back to his mind and made him feel guilty. He was so stubborn, to proud to accept that he couldn't handle alone the horror able things he went through. He thought about leaving the FBI without saying good bye to his friends. But they never thought about giving up on their little boy they always wanted to protect. Spencer wasn't the only one who felt guilty. The question if they should have done more to help him impended over them while waiting in the hospital for a couple of days. Hotch was one of the first Spencer wanted to talk with, but he wasn't able to say much. Started to cry like a little boy, trying to hide from his friend who always treated him as a respectable person, afraid that Hotch would tell him how false his behavior was and that he wouldn't be a member of the team anymore. But nothing like that happened. Hotch hugged him without any hesitation, holding the younger agent till he stopped crying, telling him, everything would be okay and that they will never give up on him. After long conversations Spencer agreed to a therapy, he knew he wouldn't make it without help. Before he left, his team members told him they would wait for him and that he would still be a part of them, but he wasn't sure. What had happened changed everyone of them, things wouldn't be the same again.

All these things went through his head while he looked into the seven faces around him, asking himself if they understood him. How could they? They hadn't been held hostage by a mental ill individual who forced him to decide about life and death of other people and to choose which member of his team should die. It was hard enough make such a decision about people he didn't know, but his team, his friends, the only kind of family he had known for years? The most bizarre thing for Spencer was, he didn't blame Tobias so much as he blamed himself for acting too stubborn in that situation with JJ. They should have waited for the others. And he couldn't blame Tobias, 'cause he knew too much about this dissociative disorder. But for all that he told them everything what happened in that cabin,how he stole the Dilaudid from a dead man and how he escaped into drug using, so he could forget what a little while what was bothering him. In the beginning he thought he could control his addiction, but he was wrong, sooner as he could realize the addiction took advantage of him. He didn't know how much time had passed, but no one was able to say a word after he finished. The group leader took a look on his watch and he saw that the time for the session was over.

Spencer was for nearly 2 weeks in the clinic and he knew nearly all stories of the certain group members except one. The story of Lilith. He never heard her speaking only one word, she only sat there, looking him directly in his eyes but she never said anything, not in the sessions or anytime else. To answer a question she nodded or shook her head. She was small and delicate, she seemed fragile what was intensified by her long black hair which she always wore in a knot, her big blue eyes, her very light skin and her always black clothing. Everyone there called her "silent snow white".

On the next day Spencer during a party chess with Jasper, he decided to talk to him about Lilith. He was sure that only a traumatic experience caused her behavior. Jasper was 21 and became a friend for him, he was hospitalized 'cause he was addicted to amphetamine. He freaked out during a college exam. His parents had high expectations on him which fell of short after that.

"Spencer, it's your move now."

"Sorry, I was a little bit absent."

"Oh, really? Didn't get," Jasper loved being sarcastic.

"What do you know about Lilith?"

"Silent snow white? Oh, not much, but wait, I know someone, who can tell you more. Hey Kele, come over here. Our little FBI genius wants to know some random facts about our silent snow white."

Kele, a seventeen year old Afro-American whose parents had brought him here due to his excessive consume of dope, came over to them.

"What can I do for you guys?"

"Spencer wants to know something about our little beautiful snow white."

"Oh man, don't ever think about that."

"I don't want to ask her out. I'm interested why she doesn't speak."

"Interesting for someone with your job?"

"Maybe, what do you know about her?"

"Lilith Wainwright, twenty years old, privileged household, addicted to heroin and pills. When she was eight, her parents started to sexually abuse her. They sold her to foreign people for sexual services. At the age of fifteen, a teacher from her highschool got distrustful and called the police. When they arrived at their parent's house, they were gone. The police only found lots of books, they had listed who had absused their daughter for money. After that she started the classical drug career, pills, dope, cocaine, speed and heroin. After she survived an overdose, she came here."

"She still looks so young, so unblemished."

"Her body may be, but she is broken. She's here for over three months, and she never said a word, nothing. You could think that she is a statue, except when she plays piano. Lilith is allowed to play piano for two hours a day and she's damn good."

Spencer took a long look at her, Lilith sat a at window, glancing outside.

"Does she get psychological attend here?"

"Spencer, look around you, we're too many patients here as they could help someone like her. For most of them here, she's crazy. She will get back on the streets, till she has the next overdose and she comes in another clinic or she dies on the street.

"She isn't crazy."

"I didn't say that, genius, but why you're so interested in her?"

"Someone must help her. It isn't right to give her up like that."

"There was a chance to help her, but it's gone long. Somebody should have taken her away from her parents when she was a child."

"How do you know so much about her?"

"Oh, I help the secretary to reorganize her office, and I had a chance to take a look on some files."

In the evening after another therapy session Spencer heard someone playing piano. He recognized the composition, it was from Beethoven. The door was ajar, so he entered the room. As he suggested, Lilith sat at the piano, eyes closed, totally concentrated on her play. Spencer was fascinated, she seemed so relaxed in that moment, so peaceful and she didn't hear him. After she finished, she sank her head and twiddled one's thumbs. Spencer took the chance to speak to her.

"You play very good."

Lilith turned round to him, and she look scared at him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to frighten you, but I heard you play and I just wanted to listen. You don't have to be afraid, I'm Spencer."

He hold out his right hand, but Lilith didn't take it-

"You're Lilith, right?"

She didn't answer, but stared at him, before she left the room. Spencer felt helpless, he just wanted to help her, he never wanted that she saw him as a threat.

During the next days he didn't saw her often and he didn't make a new try to talk to her. He heard her play piano every day. On a Saturday night, Spencer couldn't sleep, he wanted to fetch a book. On the way to the lounge, he saw that Steven, one attendant from the nightshift entered one room. Spencer was curious enough to take a look whose room it was and became terrified, it was Lilith's room. He slowly opened the door. Lilith lay on her bed, her blanket lay on the floor. Steven sat on her bedside, he had pulled her shirt up, touching her breast and one of his hands found the way between her legs. Her facial expression only showed fear and pain, while tears were running down her cheeks. She was the perfect victim for him, she wouldn't talk to anyone about what happened here at night like she hadn't talked about so many other things. Her parents taught her very well not to talk about the things that they've done to her.

"Don't cry, little sweetness, you should have fun here."

The way, Steven was talking to Lilith made Spencer mad. She wasn't able to defend herself.

"What are you doing here? This is a little private arrangement between Lilith and me, you should search yourself another toy. Lilith is mine."

" I don't think that you're having any kind of arrangement with her and I can't imagine that Lilith gave you her permission to abuse her. You better leave now."

What do you think what you could do? No one would believe you, an addicted FBI agent, and Lilith? She doesn't speak at all, whom could she tell about it?"

"What you're doing here, is abusing of wards. It wouldn't take long for one of my colleagues to figure out that you've been fired for more than one time due to this kind of abuse."

Steven took his hands from Lilith who pulled down her shirt immediately and tried to hide in the outermost corner of her bed.

"We keep this here quiet or out little princess here gets hurt."

Spencer took her blanket and put it back on her bed.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Lilith simply nodded her head.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Lilith wasn't reacting at all, so Spencer left her alone.