Chapter two part four

I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can play together all night. Bill Watterson

According to the alarm clock it was a little past two thirty in the morning. Catherine rolled over and felt the void next to her in the bed. Catherine sighed, this was the third night in a row Spencer had been sitting awake. She got out of bed and grabbed her bathrobe. She slipped her robe on and walked out into the living room. Spencer was sitting on the sofa and it looked he was writing in a notebook of some sort. Catherine came up behind him and touched his shoulder. He jumped about a foot in the air.

"Sorry," said Catherine and she took a step back. He turned and looked at her startled.

"I didn't hear you," he signed. She sat down next to him and he shut the notebook.

"Are you ok?" she asked.

"Yeah...yeah...I just can't sleep," signed Spencer.

"This is the third night that you can't sleep. Something is bothering you...you want to talk about it." Spencer shifted in his seat, it had been three nights since he came home from Chula Vista, three nights since he had watched Jack Vaughn take a shotgun and murder Ryan Phillips. Three nights since he had watched Ryan plead, watched Jack's daughter Lindsay hiss into her father's ear to kill him. He couldn't get the the image of Ryan laying dead in a stall with half his head missing out of his head, the sound of the gun shot, the smell of blood and gun shot smoke filled his nose.

"I just..." he shook his head and tears started to fill his eyes. He failed horribly and someone was dead because he couldn't stop it. He felt Catherine move closer to him and she hugged him. He couldn't stop the tears now that they were out. Catherine brushed his hair back and he put his head on her shoulder and wept. He felt her arms around him and he hugged her back. After awhile he wiped his eyes and looked at her, her face was filled with concern about him.

"When your ready to talk about it...you know where I am." She bent over and kissed his forehead. Catherine got up and went back to bed, she was worried about him and she hated it when he held things like this. It wasn't his fault though, it was just how he was brought up. Holding everything in until it just boiled over and he either exploded on someone or imploded on himself. Catherine crawled back into bed and tried to go back to sleep, a few moments later she felt the weight in the bed shift and Spencer laid down next to her. He reached over in the dark and took her hand, she squeezed his hand and pulled him closer.

"Go to sleep," she told him quietly and she started stroking his hair. Spencer watched her drift back off to sleep with her hand on his head. He took her hand off his head and held it tight. He just laid there in the dark and watched her sleep until exhaustion kicked in and he fell asleep.

…...

They were in Pittsburgh a few weeks later, investigating what could be the work of an Angel of Death. It was getting a little easier to sleep, but he had the horrible itch in his arm again. Nine months...I've fought this for nine months and I'll be damned if I give in now.

Spencer turned his attention to notes left behind by the victims. Emily was in reading them with him. JJ was handling the press for the latest victim and the others were working the latest scene and everything pointed to the same Un-sub.

"They all have the same type of tone. It's uncanny," said Spencer. The victims all came from different backgrounds and were both male and female. The letters should reflect some sort of difference but if anything it just made them all blend together.

"And you're saying they all wrote these willingly?" asked Emily.

"None of them are forced...but even here with the latest victim he never says goodbye. It's like there not meant for anybody, not for a spouse, child or anyone they were close too."

"But than who are they writing them too?" Spencer skimmed through the letters again and he realized why they all felt so similar and familiar too him. It was Step Eight after all.

"They're Amends...to themselves. I believe that they're written as part of a program."

What program?" she asked.

Emily was looking at him and he realized that he needed to careful what came out of his mouth right now. He had a feeling that everyone expect Garcia had their thoughts about what was wrong with him when he returned home from Georgia. He had only really told JJ, but he knew that Hotch and Gideon had known. He had a feeling Morgan knew, but he never said anything. Emily had been the brunt of his at work out bursts and maybe she had guessed and maybe she hadn't. Either way he didn't want to go to far down this road.

"Um, the Five Stages of Grief...in some Self Help groups they ask you to write down an Amends to yourself." And to others like I've been doing the past few weeks.

"Is that right?" asked Emily.

He had his back to her so he couldn't see the expression on her face. It was one of understand and a hint of sadness. He had come so far in such a short amount of time and what he did to get back to who he was, well that wasn't her business and if he felt he had anything to make up for than she would let him. However, she didn't feel like he owe her anything other than to be her teammate and friend. She couldn't imagine what he had gone through at the hands of Tobais Hankle and she couldn't imagine what he had been like away from the job with Catherine, but from what she had overheard him say that night in hospital it must have been bad. If they had been in trouble you couldn't tell it now from looking at them. He was Spencer again and that was all that really mattered in the end.

"So these groups are all anonymous?" asked Emily.

"It helps protect your privacy," said Spencer.

He hadn't really gone to a meeting since Catherine had been home. He did a once a month check in with the counselor, but mostly he just talked things over with Catherine. However, the past few weeks he found himself holding things in again and that itch in his arm was starting to get to him. Spencer knew though what giving in would mean and how much he could lose from it. He would watch Catherine sleep sometimes and knew that she meant what she had said about not giving him another chance if he fell back in to drugs and he wasn't sure which one hurt more-the thought of her leaving him for good or the desire for the drugs.

…...

Catherine was sitting on the floor grading papers and Spencer was sitting behind her on the sofa writing in his note book. He was working on Steps Eight and Nine. Step Eight- We made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all. His list was rather small it consisted of the team has a whole, he had wronged them all really. He hadn't been there for them in the way they had been there for him. He hadn't been focused on them, the cases or the people they were sent to help. He was focused on his own suffering and his own needs. Catherine was the other person on his list. He watched her flip through an answer key and correct some verbs than move onto the next paper. We made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would

injure them or others, was Step Nine. He made his amends to the team every day, he couldn't admit directly what he had done. Spencer had a feeling that costing Hotch his job for covering for him would fall under the 'injure them' section. Catherine on the other hand was different story, he had said he was sorry to her for all the hurt he had caused. However was sorry enough? Their relationship was in a much better place than it had been, but it could have been in a much better place sooner had he not been using drugs.

He watched her finished her grading and sit it aside. Spencer closed his notebook and she looked up at him.

"You know you could always help if you're bored," teased Catherine.

"It's more fun to watch you and the Blue Pen of Grading," signed Spencer. Catherine eased herself off the floor and sat next to him on the sofa.

"Are you writing a book? Are you hoping to out sell Rossi?"

"It's a journal...sort of." He watched her nod and than she went to go and make herself a cup of tea. He realized what his amends to her should be. He held things back from her, even now he was withholding parts of who he was from her and what was the point of trying to be in this relationship if he wasn't fully in. Spencer picked up the journal and walked into the kitchen, Catherine was finishing making her cup of tea and was making one for him.

"Here." he handed her the book and she looked at him confused. "I want you to read it."

"I don't understand."

"I need you to read it...it's...it's somethings I want to tell you and I can't..." Catherine hugged him and kissed his cheek.

"Is it alright if I read it later on."

"Read it whenever you want." Catherine picked up her cup of tea and headed towards the living room. Spencer watched her curl up on the sofa and stared down at the journal. He watched her open the journal slowly and start reading the first page.

I realize that I have a great deal to make up for. I don't know if I'll ever be able to truly make up for everything, but I hope that they can understand how sorry I am for the hurt I caused...

…...

"Are you sure that you don't want me to go with you?" asked Catherine.

"You'll miss the train if you stay," countered Spencer. They were parked outside a library that was hosting an NA meeting. Beltway Clean Cops was the name of this chapter, it was made of those in law enforcement trying to stay clean. Catherine was supposed to be heading to a teacher's workshop in New York and had already delayed going to the morning portion to go with him to speak to his counselor. Spencer had finally admitted he was having issues about staying clean to Catherine and while it was painful to admit he knew it was the right thing to do.

"This is not a bad reflection on your relationship. If anything it shows a great deal of respect for each other. Most couples dealing with this type of issue tend to not communicate well. The partner suffering with the addiction will try to deny any feelings of struggling or wanting the drugs. The partner without the addiction will blame themselves for their partner's backsliding or become angry and disappointed in their partner," said the counselor and he had an interpreter sign what was being said to Catherine.

"I think I'm disappointed enough for the both us," said Spencer. The counselor looked at Catherine for her response.

"I guess I'm upset...not with Spencer. I knew that this wasn't going to be easy and he seemed to be doing really good for awhile. I blame California and whatever case he had when he was there."

"Spencer do you want to tell Catherine what happened in California?"

"I'm...I'm not ready to tell her what happened. It was really bad and I just want to forget about it and escape." The counselor looked at Spencer, than to Catherine and than back to Spencer.

"I'm going to recommend a group for you Spencer. It's for cops and those working in law enforcement dealing with your issues. I strongly suggest that you attend at least one meeting, a full meeting and that you share while your there. You can have Catherine attend with you with if it will make you feel better, but she doesn't need to be there. You clearly feel that there are certain aspects of your job you don't want her aware of even though she's more aware of them than you realize." The counselor handed Spencer a card and a list of meeting times. "There is a meeting this evening."

This is why they were sitting outside of a library on a Tuesday night and Spencer found his hands where shaking. Catherine reached over and took his hands.

"You don't have to do this now if you don't want to," she signed.

"I need to do this or this isn't going to get any better," signed Spencer. Catherine nodded and kissed his forehead.

"I'll see you in a couple days," signed Spencer getting out of the car. She gave him a smile before driving away. I love you, he thought before heading into the building. He took a seat in the middle row and watched the people coming in. He didn't really recognize anyone here. He saw a lot of them were still in uniform, most likely just getting off shift or trying to fit a meeting in before going on. It looked like some lawyers and other plain clothes officers either taking seats or joking around with each other near the coffee machine and donuts. Of course donuts and cops why am I not surprised? Everyone soon took a seat and the meeting was called to order by an older man with reddish brown hair who was built like a small brick wall.

"My name is Micheal and I will be chairing this meeting this evening. For those who don't know me, I've been coming here for the last ten years and I've one of the acting chairs of the branch of NA for the last five. If you have any questions please see either myself or John after the meeting and we can try to get you in touch with any resources you need." Micheal took a sip of his water before continuing.

"This chapter of NA was set up for a reason, not only do we have a problem with addiction, but we are supposed to hold ourselves to a higher standard. We all are sworn in some way to serve and protect and we can't do that properly if we're focused only on our addiction. We can't protect the public we swore ourselves too nor can we protect our partners, team mates and family we care about once we leave the job..." Maybe this isn't going to be so bad, thought Spencer.

…...

"This is the portion of our meeting where we ask those members, old and new who have anything they would like or need to share with us to please come forward," said Micheal. Spencer took a deep breath and headed to the front of the room.

"Hi...my name is Spencer and I'm...I really don't know what I am."

"Hello Spencer," they all said in unison.

"Um...this is my first meeting."

"Welcome."

"Thanks...um thank you." He had to take a deep breath before going on. "I guess...well I know that I had a problem with .Dulaudid..but...I stopped." He couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride that he had stopped and he almost smiled for a second. "Ten months ago I stopped and I thought it was over, but recently...your literature uses the term 'craving'. It started like a month ago...a suspect...a kid was murdered in front of me."

There was no sugar coating what Jack had done to that kid. They had him, he was going to go to jail for Katie's murder and the kidnapping and assault on Lindsey and instead of letting go of his past and protecting his daughter from the life he had ran from he brought home, she begged her father to kill him and Spencer had failed to stop it.

"I thought that I could save the kid and I couldn't and..." His phone started going off. Damn it...really we have to do this now. "Sorry." he hit the ignore button and tried to get his train of thought back.

"I've seen a lot of that stuff before." I've seen bodies beaten, tortured, raped, mutilated, limbs missing, anything horrible you can imagine another person doing out of cruelty. "But for some reason that's kid face is really stuck in my brain." His blood on the wall, the brain matter and skull in the stall. The look of satisfaction Lindsey had that he was dead.

"You know and I can't...and I want to forget about him and I wanna escape." I wanna be numb again. His phone started buzzing again and Spencer fought the urge to throw it. He promised he would never miss another plane and he was clearly being summoned.

"I'm sorry." He looked down and saw that JJ was texting him they had a case and it was ASAP. "I have to go, I'm sorry." He quickly walked out the meeting room and outside. He would have to get a cab since Catherine had dropped him off.

"Spencer," called a voice. Fuck...

"I have to go I'm late," he said half turning around to see who was talking to him.

"Places to go, people to profile." It was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on him and Spencer stopped to see who it was. Really...seriously...he's here. His name was John Thompsen and he was five people away from running the FBI. Spencer had only really met him in passing, but it was enough to know that this guy meant business and had been known to make or break careers with a sentence.

"You know who I am." It wasn't a question, it was more of a statement.

"Of course I do Sir. I just didn't expect to see a man of your position here."

"Here there is no 'Sir' I'm just John. And this is not something you talk about at the office...especially our office." How far they could fall if anyone found out was unspoken between them. They would be lucky to find work passing out jay walking tickets should anyone find out what issues they were dealing with behind their credentials. Spencer's phone buzzed again and he just wanted to scream.

"Sorry I really do have to go." John reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be about the size of a silver dollar and gave it to Spencer.

"Here take this. It's my One Year medallion and it took me six years to get it. For the past thirteen years I've never left home without it. Because I know if I forget that..I will lose my gun, my credentials, my home, everything." Spencer knew that he was married for almost twenty years and had two children. To think that they had all suffered the same nightmare and came out together floored him.

"Hold on to if for me," said John.

"I only have ten months." Ten long difficult at times soul crushing months.

"I know."

"It's your most prized possession." Spencer could understand Catherine giving him her rosary, it was her way of being with him when he was gone. It was tucked into his shoulder bag and it never left. But this was something totally different.

"It is."

"Your just giving it to me." We've only been in the same room three times and one of them was now.

"No. In a couple months when you get your Year, you give it back to me." John turned and walked back towards the meeting.

"I really don't understand," called Spencer. John turned and looked at him.

"You will." He went back inside. Spencer pocketed the medal and headed out. He sent JJ a text that he needed to head home first and that he would be there soon.

Despite the success cult, men are most deeply moved not by the reaching of the goal but by the grandness of the effort involved in getting there - or failing to get there. Max Lerner

Ep's used-3rd Life, A Higher Power and Elephant's Memory.

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