Chapter 36

"You okay?" he asked softly, running his hands through her tousled hair.

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

When she shook her head negatively and bit into her bottom lip, Reid sighed.

"Scarlett," he said gently. "You have to talk about what's going on in your mind, darling, or it's going to keep forcing its way out…" he told her taking her chin in his hand and forcing her to look up at him.

"I don't know what to say, Spencer…" she said quietly. "I- I can't justify my own feelings to myself, how can you expect me to explain them to you?"

"How about telling me what you are thinking right now?" he asked.

Scarlett made a face. "You don't want to know…"

"I wouldn't have asked, if I didn't…"

"Fine," she pouted. "You want to know? This very second all I can think about is I'd kill for a smoke…" she shrugged at his look. "You asked…"

"Do you have a pack around?" he asked.

"In the side pocket of my go bag," she admitted a bit mulishly. She was surprised when he moved her off his lap and went to her bag to retrieve the cigarettes. When he came back and handed her them a lighter and an empty can to use as an ashtray, she stared at him askance.

"I'm not unreasonable Scarlett," he told her. "I don't like it, but I don't want you to feel like you have to hide things from me."

She showed him the unopened pack. "I'm not hiding anything," she told him. "I only have one once in a while. This happens to be one of those times…"

He nodded, hearing the truth in her words. "I can understand that."

She ripped open the pack and lit up. Curling her legs up to her chest, she took a drag and ran her hand through her hair roughly. She clutched her fist angrily as she saw her hand shaking. She took another drag and looked over to where Spencer sat at the end of the couch watching her.

Scarlett blew out the smoke and ground out most of the cigarette. "I hate being weak," she said leaning her head onto her knees.

"You aren't weak Katy…" he said softly. She looked over at him and narrowed her eyes.

"How could you say that?" she asked. "I freaked out on my first case here because of my fear of heights. I got myself injured because I was stupid enough to get grabbed, by the hair for Christ's sake, on my second, and today I nearly lost it in front of the whole team… but to top it off I have a meltdown of epic proportions tonight and you end up having to lose sleep to take care of me! How could you not think I am severely messed up in the head?"

Spencer shook his head. "You don't see what I see. I saw you were terrified and faced it head on... You fought back after being dragged down a road and won. And you held yourself together until tonight… only when you were unconscious, did you let down your guard enough to finally let out some of the pain. So you can give yourself a tiny fucking break, please Scarlett," his voice sharpening at the last sentence. "You are not weak, but you can't hold everything in," he said again, easing himself back into a calmer tone.

Scarlett peeked across her knees at him. "I don't have the dreams as much anymore," she said quietly. "Sometimes, but it hasn't been like this in a long time," she told him.

Reid nodded. "Morgan was worried about you having a flashback. He asked me to watch out for you tonight."

"Great. Just great…" she sighed. "Even my brother thinks I'm going to fall apart."

"No, nobody thinks you are falling apart, Scarlett. Everyone is allowed to have nightmares. God knows we've all lived through them," he said and shifted forward a bit on the seat. "You joke about your 'super-powers' but you are only human. Sometimes it hurts like hell, but you have to live through the pain before you get to the other side."

"It doesn't go away, but it gets better in time," she said, quoting what he told her the first time they met.

He smiled. "Something like that…"

"I can't stop feeling like it was supposed to be me," she said looking across the room at nothing in particular. "Like I cheated death so now I have to pay some price…"

"You can't blame yourself," Reid said quietly. "I know. I went that route, it doesn't help. All the 'what-ifs' don't change the fact that you are still here, they are not, and you have to live… no matter how much each day hurts."

"I know. In some part of me, it doesn't even seem to be about John anymore. I know he'd want me to live my life, not just stay in one place, spinning my wheels out of some convoluted idea of respect… Hell, that's one of the reasons why I took this job! I needed to move forward, and getting out of Chicago seemed to be a definitive change…" she shook her head. "But another part keeps dragging me back- reminding me I'm only on borrowed time. That I shouldn't be here now…"

Spencer sighed. "Survivors guilt is a very common manifestation when you deal with…"

Scarlett snapped her eyes to his. "Save it Spence. I've done the therapy. I've done the books. I know what survivors syndrome is, and I know I have PTSD. I had to fight to get myself straight because I wouldn't let them drug me into a false sense of security, and I did what I needed to do to get myself where I am at. Don't you dare psycho-analyze me, doctor Reid," she stated more angrily than she intended. She saw him draw back with a hurt look on his face. Not able to deal with being the cause of that, she looked away.

"I'm sorry," she heard him say softly. "I'm trying to figure out something to say that helps, but the truth is, I don't know myself. I have the same trouble sometimes dealing with the aftermath of things in my past. I've had the therapy too," he told her, his voice getting stronger as he spoke.

"I'm not analyzing you, Scarlett; I'm speaking from my own experience. I didn't deal with it in the healthiest way, my PTSD landed me in rehab with a drug addiction…" she watched him shift on the couch dropping his head and running his hands through his hair.

She'd wanted to talk to him – to ask him how he dealt with the fallout from Maeve's death, but she wasn't sure how to bring it up. She watched him, carefully considering how to ask her next question. "Did you think about… using, again… I mean after what happened ..." she stopped talking unsure if she was bringing up something he wasn't ready to talk about with her yet.

"After what happened with Maeve?" he finished for her and she nodded. "Yeah. I did." He dropped his eyes to his feet.

Scarlett felt a catch in her heart at his soft admission. "What did you do?" she asked.

"I didn't use. I went to meetings, I called my sponsor- I went through a depression, I trashed my apartment... but …" he shrugged. "I got through it. The team, Morgan, JJ and Garcia especially, helped me get through it."

She heard the pain in his voice and moved a little closer. His eyes met hers and she reached over and took his hand.

"You are lucky. They all love you so much, Spence."

"I know. What about you? Did you have anyone to help you get through?" he asked, turning the conversation back to her.

"They all tried. I have a way of closing myself off," she offered a wan smile. "In case you hadn't noticed…"

"No, you don't say…" he said giving her a grin. He ran his thumbs across the back of her hands, waiting for her to continue.

"But yeah, Mom had me stay with her. I couldn't stand being in the apartment. Desi and Sara- Derek even took some time off and stayed… They were all there for me. I was just so far down; I had to find my own way back… You know what I mean? It helped having them there, but I had to do it myself," she scooted a bit closer.

"Penny helped too. Derek introduced me to her because of her connection with the survivors' therapy she does. She became my best friend." Scarlett looked over to him.

"You helped me…"