Hello Readers, I would like to thank you guys so much for your patience. The funeral for my friend, Mia, was just how she would want it, and although these weeks have been some of the most trying times of my life, I think she would like me to move on.

Thanks to you reveiwers, omgnotagain, TheMysteriousGeek2345, ! Keep them up! C:

Special thanks to Marcallie, without your advice and your dedication to this story, I would probably not have had the motivation to write another chapter. Thanks so much. Xx

*edit* OHMYGOSH. Dont hate me guys, but i COMPLETELY forgot about GARCIA! So i quickly wrote her in! I hope it makes up for my mistake! ;)

Enjoy!

The rest of the jet ride had been torment for the team, dangling a drugged Reid in front of them was a quick-fire way to put all of the agents on edge.

Morgan had ended up switching seats with Rossi, so his back was to Reid; he couldn't bare seeing this side of his best friend at all. He missed the quirky, geeky genius that they once knew. A deep feeling of dread gurgled at the pit of his stomach, what if he becomes dependant on the drugs? Nobody needed a repeat of Hankel, Reid especially. Derek was becoming more and more apprehensive, he couldn't survive two kidnappings. Just the thought of Ethan made Morgan's stomach roll with thundery hatred. Closing his eyes in dismay, Morgan resumed the rest of the flight in a tense, but well-needed, state of unconsciousness as he tried, really tried, to be optimistic about Reid; it was proving a challenge.

Having been moved from her position, Garcia cuddled up with her knitting in the corner of the plane. What this whole situation needed most was a bit of normalcy, but she could tell that just knitting another scarf or quilt wasn't going to bring the homey feel back to the cold atmosphere she was feeling. Garcia was a naturally bubbly person, but deep inside, she held her secrets tucked away, like any other, she was a very private person. Her emotions shone through, but she was still battling internally. The war of optimism versus pessimism, the good versus the bad continued inside her head. She could see the road ahead of Reid, and she really wanted to be there for him, but she didn't know if he would want her support. Of course she would still be there, but it was a matter of knowing when to attack and when to sit back. Her mind was telling her now to wait for her chance, wait for him to come to her. And so she sat, contemplating the god things and the bad, contemplating whether or not Reid would survive this. Her optimism was faltering ever so slightly, but her willpower was still strong. Chancing a glance at the dreaming genius, she felt no sense of promise of the future, and this worried Penelope, so she knitted away her thoughts, hoping against hope that things would get better for her boy wonder.

There were several times that JJ had tried to talk with him, or even hold his hand, but each and every moment she did so, he would blow her off. Worry in the form of tears had clouded her eyes most of the flight home, just seeing how distant he was becoming, it was a complete feeling of Déjà vu. Reid had been exactly the same, plus a little mouthier with his opinion, back when Emily had come back to the team after her 'death'. She internally cringed at the memories, the pain she saw glowing in his eyes when she confronted him about it. She hoped dearly that they would have a chance to talk, if Reid would allow that at all. After settling another blanket across Reid's noticeably thin body, she sat facing the window, trying to find a distraction from the distant Reid beside her.

Although her nose had been nearly embedded in a book, the page that she had been looking at for the last half hour had still not been turned. She had watched as Reid shook of JJ's comforting time after time, mentally telling her that they both needed to have a chat. The look in JJ's eyes each time he did broke her spirits, but not as much as the dulled light in Reid's own. It was as if he wasn't even present anymore, as if he had recoiled from the team, his family, as well as himself. He would need all the support he could get to get through the intense physical therapy he had coming to him, but whether Reid would accept it or not was the real question. They couldn't help him if he denied he needed help. Shuffling in her seat, Emily tried to rest, but unease wouldn't let her from its grasp.

Hotch's mind had been in a whirlwind. It was as if his brain had decided to throw all his thoughts and feelings at him, all at once. Jack, Beth, Hayley, Reid along with all of the paperwork that he would have to fill out, not to mention the amount of work they had to do when they would get back as well as the many ass's that were needing kissing in way of a political apology to the bureau. His mind soon settled on one common subject; Reid's recovery. He would need intense physical therapy, along with extreme counselling and at the end of all that, he still didn't know if Reid could have a job. But would Reid even want to come back to the bureau after this? Would he even survive this? Hotch had noticed, along with everyone else, the drug dependence that was building up. The thoughts that had entered his mind were piling up and didn't help the already tense agent rest during rest of the flight home. Hotch stayed in nearly the exact same position for the whole flight, not one word was spoken, his mind was too busy processing; as was everyone else's.

Rossi didn't know what to think. Pity lurked in his head about what the poor young man was going through who at his age, or anybody, should not be even thinking about. This whole case, Ethan taking Reid, had added a whole new definition to the words back stabber. Along with the trauma that Reid will have to suffer through and eventually live with, he would also have to live with the death of Allyson Morris. The nature of human beings, unlike the people that these profilers catch, is to feel empathy, and Reid was not exempt from this fact of life. Rossi knew that Reid would blame himself for everything that happened to Ally, and Rossi was completely and utterly useless in ways to stop it. From personal experience in his many years as an FBI agent, Dave knew that no matter how much somebody tells you it was not your fault, you still feel branded by the responsibility of that person's life. He just hoped Reid would be strong enough to get through the grief and trauma that has been following him his whole life.

Ethan approached Spencer deadly slow, but he didn't cower against the wall. He knew the physical pain that was about to hit; but that did nothing to prepare him for it. Ethan suddenly grabbed a fistful of Spencer's brown locks and dragged him, with ease, to the other side of the room. Spencer struggled as best he could, but exhaustion and dehydration were biting at his heels, causing his struggle to compare to that of a tired kitten. He cringed in pain as Ethan slammed his head against the hard concrete floor, but he wouldn't let a whimper escape his chapped lips. He saw black spots appear in his vision, but he didn't let the darkness take him in. A large hand instantly wrapped around Spencer's neck not giving him a chance to recover from the last blow. The hand tightened, choking him, and lifted Spencer of the cold floor. Reid was struggling uncontrollably as his 'fight or flight' response kicked in. He clawed at Ethan's strong hand that was slowly draining the life out of him. He kicked and swung his weight around; hoping that whoever was out there would make Ethan stop abusing his throat. His fight became weaker and weaker by the second. Spencer stopped hearing Ally's pained screams telling Ethan to let Spencer live. He slowly looked to her and saw a stray tear betray her eyes and fall down her cheek…

Reid's eyes opened wide through a sheen layer of sweat, his breathing was harsh. Chestnut locks dangled in front of his now pale face as he brought a his cast hand up to move the swaying strands out of his eyes. Deep in Reid's sub-conscious, he knew that this was more than just a dream, but a memory. He didn't know how, but it just felt so real. But still he refused to believe, it was too much to process…He focused on steadying his breathing as his hazel eyes finally began to see the blurry but severely concerned faces of his team, or in other words the liars he worked with. The liars who told him that one of his friends had held him captive, tortured him, drugged him… Spencer himself had seen Ethan, and he didn't show any of the signs… Maybe he was going crazy, that would be a more comforting reality than what his mind was showing him, which he refused to understand. JJ was the first to speak, concernedly taking his sweaty palm in her soft hands.

'Spence, are you alright? We are about to land soon; we can get you some help then, okay?' She smiled kindly at him, her deep blue orbs prying at his heart strings. But Reid was still angry, they had lied to him. She had lied to him… after it had taken so long to repair their trust she had lied to him again.

He put all of his energy in his hand, after all there wasn't much strength left in his right side at all, and pulled his weak hand out of hers. 'I'm fine; I don't need your help.' He responded curtly. JJ's eyes had reflected the hurt she felt, the hurt that Emily had seen earlier, and she moved her arm away from his, chancing a side glance at the rest of the team while subtly wiping her eyes.

Morgan intervened. 'Reid, you're clearly not fine, man. You're sweaty and pale. You're struggling. We can help you! Just talk to us.'

'I said I am fine, Morgan.' Reid shot back, looking down at his lap and playing with his khaki shorts, he couldn't get his casts under his pants so they opted for a larger size short. The truth was that Reid was not fine. He was utterly confused. His mind was telling him that his team was correct about Ethan, while his heart just couldn't face the truth, causing his emotions to skyrocket; Anger and frustration being the most prominent of them all. Suddenly the genius realized what these feelings coincided with and he recognized all too well what was overcoming his senses, a feeling that no FBI agent, let alone human being, should need to experience; drug withdrawal. His mind knew the feeling as well as the symptoms; sweating, tightness in the chest, racing heart along with irritability, anxiety, confusion and most prominently social isolation. Reid wanted to be alone, away from his team, away from the world. The façade he had been putting on was tiring, and obviously cracking by the hurt and concerned looks he was receiving. The truth was that Morgan was right, he was struggling, but he wasn't about to ask for help; to Reid, that would mean weakness, and ultimately shame.

The looks of his team members turned towards a red light flashing above the entrance to the cockpit. Responding to the signal, the team temporarily let go of the situation, although no body stopped thinking about it, and secured their seatbelts; the plane was going to begin its decline back down to earth. Another Flash of red erupted in front of Reid's eyes where Nurse Nadine bent forward to fasten Spencer's seatbelt, after doing so she secured her own.

The decent was silent, apart from the grumble of the engines and the wheels touching the runway, and a tense atmosphere had made itself known, but Reid was oblivious to it. As soon as the Jet door's had opened, the BAU team was greeted kindly by a pair of EMT's carrying a gurney. The carefully loaded the annoyed and protesting brunette on to it, and the nurse followed them, getting into the ambulance that waited, in other words Reid's new chariot. Reid was loaded inside the vehicle, his protests of his ability to walk being ignored.

'I'm sorry sir; there is no space for anyone to ride along.' One medic spoke to Morgan as he was looking at the ambulance meaningfully. There were clearly enough seats in the vehicle, but Morgan didn't protest, his bed was definitely calling him.

The doors to the ambulance were closed, the vehicle drove off the tarmac and with it Reid was gone. The team was left grabbing their bags and loading them into the SUV tiredly. Each of them was physically and emotionally drained. After lugging their tired bodies into two vehicles, they left the Jet on the tarmac, and hoped that they wouldn't be on it again for a while; nobody wanted to go anywhere apart from home.

As soon as the doors to the ambulance had closed with a click, Nadine spoke. 'Why didn't you want any of them to ride along, Hun? You know they are just trying to help you. From what I saw on that plane today, they love you very much, and distancing yourself from them won't help you at all, you know that right?' She spoke tenderly, sadness in her soft voice as she adjusted his pillows.

'I know, but… I just, I can't stand looking at them anymore… It was bad before but now the pity in their eyes, it's too overwhelming. I… I don't know.' He spoke, his voice sounded a bit choked up with emotions.

'Honey, don't get their love mixed up with pity. I know it's going to be a long road, but at the end of it, all you have are your friends. Don't lose them by your own hand. You're pushing them away, and I know just how lonely that road can become without any support, so just trust me, Dr Reid, you need them as much as they need you.' Finishing with the pillows, she placed a tender hand on his arm, for which she received a gentle smile.

Spencer couldn't help but be comforted by her presence, she seemed to genuinely care and know what Reid was going through. He knew it was her job, but he couldn't help but be thankful that she was here with him.

He settled back into his pillows and closed his eyes as Nadine pulled out a book from her bag. He was going to get through this, but like Nadine said, it would be a long road, and he was going to need all the support he could get. Reid just hoped he would be able to ask for help when he needed it most.

Thanks for reading, and please leave a review on your way out. C: xx

Claire