Conflict
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.
'Two things a man should never be angry at : what he can help and what he cannot help'.~ Thomas Fuller.
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Reid had been sitting in his car for almost an hour. The sun had set and it was getting dark. He saw other cars begin to pull into the lot and some familiar faces get out of their vehicles and head into the Beltway clean cops meeting. Reid had parked himself as far away as he could. He really didn't want to be seen in case he changed his mind.
He had come here directly from the BAU Jet. He was afraid if he went home the temptation to find those hidden bottles of dilaudid would overwhelm him. It had been three days since he had run out of percocet. Three days that he and the team had spent in another city trying to find a psychopath before he murdered another prositute. It was a harrowing case, the unsub had devolved quickly and took out as many victims as he could before he killed himself. The townspeople had been unhelpful and the local police resentful of their presence. There was no happy ending. The team left at least with the knowledge that the murderer could not harm another person.
Spencer had pretended to be asleep on the flight home just so he didn't have to talk to anyone. Hotch told the team to take the next day off. They were only too happy to comply. Morgan and Prentiss had invited him to go out with them for drinks. He politely declined, he didn't think he could hold a drink without his hands shaking, they were sure to notice something like that.
Instead he came straight here. He was early, but he could wait. He thought he should probably get out of the car as the meeting would be starting soon. It was just that he couldn't seem to be able to make himself move; his body felt like it was made out of lead. His hands gripped the steering wheel. He ordered himself to let go, to just move. It wasn't too late, there was time to stop this.
In the distance he saw John get out of his car. He always called him John, there were no last names, no sirs. They were all equals here. John was a high ranking FBI official who had helped Spencer in the past. He didn't see Reid sitting there, as he was walking in the opposite direction. Suddenly John stopped, he looked like he had forgotten something. Reid tensed, if John turned around, he would see him and Reid would have to go in, John would expect it. He felt almost relieved that this was being taken out of his hands. He held his breath as John fumbled in his pockets for something. Reid saw a man approach the elder agent and get his attention. They spoke for a minute and walked into the building together.
John had not seen him. Reid felt a strange mixture of relief and rage. He hit his fists on the steering wheel in frustration.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!," he hissed.
The parking lot was quiet now. It appeared everyone had gone in. He could still go he reasoned, but there was something else calling him, pulling him in another direction. He sat back and closed his eyes. He thought of Rossi and his damned boots, he wanted to blame him, but he knew this really had nothing to do with Rossi. He thought of the needle sliding under his skin and depressing the plunger, he wet his lips, the sensation he felt at the memory was something akin to arousal. He craved that release. He wanted that feeling just one more time, it had been so long. He remembered John telling him how it had taken him seven years to earn his one year medallion, so even he had slip ups. Was he not allowed one last time, a goodbye of sorts.
Spencer composed himself, he started his car and pulled out of the parking lot. He couldn't handle a meeting, yet he wasn't ready to go home.
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David Rossi swirled the last bit of scotch in his glass and downed it. His lips made a satisfied smacking sound and he debated whether he should indulge in another one. He looked at his watch, it was only eleven, but still, two drinks was his limit these days, at least in a bar it was. He thought of the bottle Hotch had given him for christmas and how nice a nightcap a glass would be.
Rossi looked around the bar. This place was his favourite watering hole. It was dark and quiet, and played his kind of music, no hip hop here. So it came as a surprise when he saw Spencer Reid sitting alone in a booth in a dark corner of the bar. He looked different, he held a brandy glass in his long slender fingers and was just sitting there staring into the darkness.
Rossi sauntered over to him, he just wanted to say hello as well as ask 'What the hell are you doing here?' He stopped at Reid's table and expected to get some kind of response from his younger colleague.
"Mind if i join you" Rossi asked.
Reid slowly looked up at him and Rossi saw something in his eyes that gave him a chill. It could have been the lighting in the bar or the two scotch's, but Reid's eyes, which were usually so soft and expressive were dark and hard and angry looking. It were as if a stranger were looking up at him. Something was very wrong.
Reid shrugged and took a sip of his brandy. Rossi sat down across from him. he suddenly began to feel very sober. He watched as Reid belted down his brandy and gestured to the bartender to get him another. Rossi wondered what had happened to him between getting off the jet tonight and being here.
"I hope you're not driving tonight Dr Reid,"
"Since when do you give a shit?" Reid replied.
Rossi was slightly taken aback. Reid almost never swore or spoke to him like that. He decided to ignore it,
"You ok? you don't seem yourself" Rossi said.
Reid sighed and leaned toward David as if he were speaking to a slow witted child.
"We have tomorrow off David, I do what I like in my own time. So relax, I'm not your problem, you don't have to worry about my safety or well being," Reid giggled slightly. "Not that you really do anyway,"
Rossi frowned at him, 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?' he thought.
Reid signalled the bartender again for another drink. "I'm off the clock agent Rossi and I want to get drunk,"
"I think you'll have some success with that if you keep belting down this stuff like this, you'll feel pretty good tomorrow too."
Reid gave him a bland smile "It's just pain, I'm used to it" Reid gave him a slow once over."Say, shouldn't you be out having your Armani shirts monogramed or something," His voice was beginning to slur now.
That was the third time Reid had directed some snarky remark his way. He was beginning to feel irritated, but held his temper in check, something must be really wrong for Reid to act this way. He decided to change the subject; he knew there was no reasoning with someone when they were drunk.
"So this is usually my favourite drinking spot, how did you find it?" he asked.
Reid waved his arm around. "I heard you telling Hotch about it, how private it is. It's like stepping into a time machine. I almost expect Frank and Dean to come out any minute and start singing,"
Rossi had to smile at the rat pack reference.
"Look, you don't have to tell me what's bugging you but I can't leave unless I know you got home safe," Rossi said.
Spencer tilted his head at him and stared thoughtfully at him for a moment.
"I'm sure you can leave David, just leave a note," he said quietly.
Dave felt the young man's eyes boring holes through him. The kid was definitely pissed with him.
"C'mon, I'll give you a ride, finish the drink and I'll take you home."
Reid rubbed his hands over his face "Sure, I don't s'pose you'll leave me alone otherwise. Just wait here, I need to use the bathroom,"
Spencer got up and staggered/ limped to the men's room.
Rossi was relieved at first that Reid was so willing to go with him. But several minutes passed by and he hadn't returned. He hoped the kid wasn't being sick, he just had his car cleaned and didn't want someone puking in it. Ten minutes more passed when he decided to go look for him. He walked in to the small men's room and called out Reid's name. There was no answer, there was no sign of him anywhere. He hurried over to the bar and spoke to the bartender.
"Hey, have you seen that skinny kid I was sitting with in the booth?." he asked.
"The bartender nodded."Yeah, he left here about 15 minutes ago."
"Son of a bitch!" Rossi said under his breath.
"He left this for you," The bartender handed him a slip of paper.
Rossi took the paper and turned it over "I'll be damned," he said aloud. Reid had left him the bill for the three brandys.
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Reid felt a certain satisfaction at ditching Rossi in the bar with his bill. He'd probably regret it tomorrow and probably regret being such a prick to him. He would worry about that tomorrow. Right now, he was a man on a mission. He was in the storage locker of his apartnent. This was where he had put it. He climbed over the boxes and old furniture he had brought from Vegas. He found the ancient wooden filing cabinet with the combination lock on one drawer, within seconds he had it open. Taped to the back of the drawer was an envelope with a bottle in it. A small bottle half full of clear liquid. Reid had found the dilaudid.
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TBC.
AN: Please read and review. Thank you for your interest in this story.
