A/N- Sorry this took so long! I got another job and get tired when I come home from my shift. And now I'm sick...so that doesn't help either. I also had terrible writers block for this story and was mostly focusing on my other story. But doing that helped me, just trying not to think too much about it and freaking out that I wouldn't get it posted when I said I would. Cause hey, writer's block is a pain.
Thanks for all the reviews, faves and follows! Hope you guys like this chapter.
Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Spencer went to his kitchen, quickly grabbed a diet soda from his fridge and walked back into his living room. He sat down next to the food and hesitated.
Do you really want do this? Brendon asked.
"I...I don't know." Spencer said. He fiddled with his hands, trying to figure out if he should. He knew he would regret it if he did it. He started biting the tip of his thumb. "do I even need to do this?" He asked himself and Brendon.
No, you don't. Brendon replied.
Spencer ignored him. "I shouldn't...but I want to. I'm starving." Spencer was now off the floor and pacing around the room. Brendon was sitting in a chair near the coffee table. Just then, there was a knock on the door. Spencer ignored it. The knocking got harder, the person was now angrily pounding on the door.
"Reid!" He heard from the other side of the door.
Spencer looked up and sighed. He quickly grabbed the bag of baked goods and quickly set it in his kitchen. He walked back into the living room,unlocked the door and opened it. It was Morgan. "Yes?" Spencer said sounding annoyed. Morgan walked right into his apartment. "Sure, come right in," Spencer shut the door and leaned against it.
Morgan looked at the younger agent. He looked like a skeleton. Like he had not eaten in weeks. His face was sunken in, he had bags under his eyes, he was pale and his breathing was shallow. Morgan crossed his arms over his chest. "Reid, I know you have a problem."
" I have no such thing," Spencer said back. He kept his head turned away from Morgan.
"An estimated 10 to 15 percent of people with anorexia or bulimia are males." Morgan said.
Spencer still wouldn't look at him. "So?"
Morgan pursed his lips. " I know I don't want to see you be one of them that don't get help."
"If heaven's grief brings hell's rain,then I'd trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday," Spencer said in a sad tone. Morgan watched the man, he still had his head turned facing the wall. Morgan knew that something was up. He used to be so perky and puppy like. Always up to fight and fight for good. But lately, it seemed like he was someone else. Like he was taken over by someone else. The boy he had met a few years ago was gone, in abyss of sadness. The world had swallowed him whole, from the cruelty and indecency he was faced with everyday.
Morgan's eyes narrowed at the man. "What's that from?" Morgan asked patiently.
Spencer sighed and he rolled his eyes,as if he was a 15 year old, telling his parents, "It's from a song."
Morgan nodded once, "Spencer, I'm not going to push you. If you want to die," Morgan's voice cracked when he said 'die'. "then that's fine. But don't say I didn't try to help you." the agent said in a cold tone.
Spencer swallowed, trying to keep himself from breaking his composure. "I don't need help." he remarked.
Morgan threw his hands up in the air, surrendering. "Fine," he spat as his arms fell to his sides.
Spencer pushed his back off of the front door, he pointed at the door and looked at Morgan. His lips were pursed together, eyes were narrow. Morgan hastily walked to the door opened it and slammed it behind him.
You better not cry. Brendon hissed in his ear. Spencer quickly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
"Hotch, we have to do something," Morgan told his boss in his office,back at the BAU. Hotchner was still working, like always. Morgan was sitting in a chair, across from Hotchner at his desk.
Aaron Hotchner rubbed this bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. " I know we do," he agreed as took his fingers off his nose and looked up at the agent. Morgan could see he looked tired, even more so than usual. Hotch saw that Morgan was angry and couldn't stand seeing his best friend going through what he was.
"He won't listen to me," Morgan explained. " he is in a state of delusion that he is fine."
Hotch sighed, " That's a sign that he's not."
Morgan nodded in agreement. "I just...I want him to get help, but he won't let me. But if we force him, he will hate us...he will hate me." Morgan mumbled.
"If we do interfere, and there is nothing wrong, then he will never trust us."
Morgan sighed, trying to keep himself from turning the sigh into a scream. "I can't just sit around and wait for him to die."
"We won't have to, we will just have to keep an eye on him, and if we see something suspicious, then we can take action."
"But Hotch," Morgan retorted.
Hotch put up his index finger. "Morgan, we can't do much right now. If something happened and this is just a way to cope, we have to keep some distance, we can't treat him like a child." Hotch said in a stern voice. "We can't force him or he will just push us away completely."
Morgan sighed, he hated this feeling. Knowing that something was wrong, and not being able to do anything.
Back at Spencer's apartment,he was now sitting on the floor of his apartment and he was already halfway through the bag of baked goods. Shoveling them down his throat as he could feel his stomach stretching. He kept wishing he could get rid of this feeling, no matter how much he kept trying to fill the emptiness and pain it just wouldn't fill.
"What...what is wrong with me?" Spencer asked Brendon as he took a big bite into a cookie.
Well, I think it's that you feel alone. You put your mother in a loony bin...
"It was a Sanitarium." He defended.
Right whatever, but you feel guilty about that. And about how you never talk to your dad, even though you know he's still in Vegas. You got bullied as a kid, your parent's never had time to worry about you. You were pushed aside.
Spencer continued to shove the food down his throat. His stomach stretching more and more as the food filled his stomach. "And now I'm pushing down all those feelings." He said in between bites. "I can't believe how stupid I am."
You are quite stupid. Brendon informed.
Spencer continued his binge,taking swigs of diet soda in between big bites,and tears forming in his eyes as he ate. He hated himself, he hated everything. He hated how he was lying to the only people that cared about him, how he hated the person that stared back at him in a mirror and how he didn't even know who that man was anymore. He stayed up until the early morning, working out at a gym that was open twenty four hours a day. He was never happy with himself, there was always room for improvement and he always needed to be improved.
Once Spencer realized the food was gone, he shot up from the floor and ran to the bathroom. He stuck his two fingers down his throat and the food came up instantly. He choked out the food, trying to get as much out as he could in one purge.
About twenty minutes later, he finished his purging. His fingers were dressed with saliva, purged food and stomach acid. He flushed the toilet, watching the food swirl around and disappear. He walked over to the sink and washed the guilt off his fingers. Once he finished, he opened one of the drawers and pulled out a razor blade.
Do it. Brendon commanded.
Spencer put the cold blade to his skin, it gave him goosebumps. The razor dug into his skin, bright red blood oozed from his skin. He did it again, once, twice, three more times. Blood dripping down his arm to his elbow. He watched as the blood trickled down, the blood was warm and the smell of iron hit his nose. Spencer set down the bloody razor blade and grabbed some toilet paper. He pressed down on his wounds with the toilet paper, the pressure was making his wounds sting with pain.
Spencer went into his room, he sat down on the floor, knees to his chest. He started to feel faint, he hated to admit it, but he felt so empty still, so empty he wanted to die. Spencer bit his bottom lip, shutting his eyes tightly, and he started to rock back and forth. Keeping the toilet paper pressed to his bloody wounds.
You can get through this. This is just one bad day. You can't let that ruin all of your progress. Brendon whispered. He set a hand on Spencer's shoulder, trying to comfort him. Right now, yeah it seems bad. But it will get better, easier, to do this. Trust me.
Spencer continued to rock back and forth. "Go away," he commanded through gritted teeth.
Fine, I'll go. But sooner or later, you'll be begging for me to come back.
Spencer opened his eye, he was alone. Brendon had disappeared. A wave of fear washed over him. He was really alone now. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. Brendon was his only real friend, even though he wasn't actually real.
An excellent man; he has no enemies; and none of his friends like him.-Oscar Wilde
E/N- hope you guys liked it! I shall have more up soon! (i'm not going to say a day,so i don't drive myself nuts lol) The song that line was from was 'just one yesterday' by fall out boy. In case any of you were wondering. PLEASE REVIEW! Thanks!
