Alright alright, here you go. Read and be happy. Then tell me what you thought.


Reid wasn't sure how long it had been since school finished, he had been unconscious for most of them. He usually survived his holidays by spending as much time as he could either at his friend's houses or drunk in the back of someone's car. This year some things had changed. Pogue had always had a girlfriend, but after coming clean with Kate after Chase he had been spending a lot more time with her. Caleb had finally let go and found himself a girl. It was a good thing, Reid assured himself, he wanted his friends to be happy. And Tyler had gone on exchange for two weeks. Good for him.

Reid didn't know what it was. Maybe this was a one off thing and he'd be able to hide at their houses again soon or maybe they were just growing apart. The others all growing up and leaving him behind. It was this dark spiral of thought that had started on his path downwards towards self destruction.

I tried to kill the pain

But only brought more

He gasped as the gleaming blade cut into his skin but as every time before he kept going. Even when blood welled up around the blade. Even when he hit bone. It hurt. But it was pain that he controlled. No one was forcing it upon him, he had chosen this pain. Like the fights and the drugs and the alcohol, but better, because this lasted so much longer. He had started not long after those temporary measures had proven to be fleeting relief. Two, maybe three years ago. It didn't really matter anymor

I lay dying

And I'm pouring crimson regret

And betrayal

He watched his blood pour across the floor and wondered dully if he would be hit for that. He didn't really care anymore. It felt good. The blood carried away all the other pain. He frowned down at his arm, almost as if he wondered how the cut had got there. This one might leave a scar. That wasn't good, he though muzzily, the others might say something. He supposed he could say he got it in a bike accident.

Yeah, the other Reid thought, the one who hid as soon as he came home for the weekend, a tragic event watched by several hot girls.

But if the others saw this one they might start to look more closely, they might notice the lattice of tiny scars which marred Reid's skin.

I'm dying

Praying

Bleeding

And screaming

Someone was calling to him. He could hear his name, whispered over and over above his head. Someone was screaming too, far away in the distance. Maybe it wasn't that far away he thought, maybe he just couldn't hear them. He didn't know. The voice sounded familiar. Who would be screaming? Shouldn't he be screaming? He opened his mouth slightly and the voice above him cried something. They sounded happy, but maybe not. He raised his arm, just in case they tried to hit him. Something dripped onto his forehead. It was red. There was blood on his arm. Why was there blood on his arm? His thoughts twisted themselves into strange shapes as he was dragged back down into darkness.

Am I too lost to be saved?

Am I too lost?

He wondered if this was dying. It wasn't particularly nice. There was no tunnel, no bright light, no soft voice. It was very dark. Not dark like unconsciousness but dark like when he came and so Reid associated that dark with his own pain. If this was dying though it would mean no more pain, he didn't think about his friends or his brothers, they would go on without him. They never really knew this Reid anyway, they thought they did but the boy they all laughed at, all argued or partied with was only a half Reid. They didn't know him, they never had.

My God my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

My God my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

Something was chasing him through the darkness now. He could hear harsh breaths behind him and feel them on his neck. He knew it was catching him and whatever happened next would be bad. He didn't want anything to catch him ever again and so he kept running.

Do you remember me?

Lost for so long

Will you be on the other side?

Or will you forget me

"Reid." He didn't know if he was dreaming or dead or simply remembering. But his father stood before him. He smiled and held out his arms.

"Dad." Tears stung his eyes as he leaned into his father's broad chest. He buried his face in his shirt and sobbed in his arms. Suddenly whatever had been chasing Reid dashed out of the darkness and latched onto him. He cried out in terror and tried to throw it off, tearing himself out of his fathers grip and falling.

"Reid you have to open your eyes." Suddenly his father was Tyler and he was gripping Reid's hand, not some nightmarish monster. Reid stared up at his friend, tear tracks marring his face. Then his eyes rolled back up into his head and he fell into nightmares once more.

I'm dying

Praying

Bleeding

And screaming

Am I too lost to be saved

Am I too lost?

A maze now, and at every turn a dead end. He didn't know where he was or where he was going. Panicked he broke into a run and then he was falling again. Staring up at the sky one of his favourite memories of his father whispered in his ear. "You were never really lost. All you had to do to get out was turn left..." He stood up climbed unsteadily to his feet. Looking around he found the all his paths led to the right. Frustrated he gave up and sat down at the base of the statue. He felt tears coming to his eyes. A sneering voice whispered in his ear

"Tears already. You little coward."

My God my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

My God my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

"Why!" He yelled at a stormy sky "Why do you hate me!" He remembered when his new father had first come. He had been eager and excited, thinking all fathers would be as nice as his real one. His mother had introduced him timidly then left the room, leaving her boys to 'get to know each other' she had not returned until Reid lay beaten and bloody later that night. He had cried quickly that first day. It had taken a little longer the next day, and even longer the next.

(I want to die)

My God my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

My God my tourniquet

Return to me salvation

He felt them, all around him, trying to bring him back.

"Let me go." He tried to tell them, "I want this." But he was too weak. Perhaps he was still trying to convince himself. He had not forgotten the dream in the dark. It had felt far too like the darkling last year for him to dismiss it and he didn't think he was ready to face that thing again. Not yet.

My wounds cry for the grave

My soul cries for deliverance

His arms hurt. His back hurt and his legs hurt. His head positively pounded and he wondered if anyone had ever died from a headache. It was warm this time. Well at least that meant he probably wasn't on the floor. Had he collapsed into bed? Or had his mother helped him, half delirious, up the stairs. He wasn't sure and he didn't care at the moment all that mattered was the fact that he was warm and safe. At least for now. Maybe he had died and they would just let him stay here. He would like that.

Will I be denied

Christ

Tourniquet

My suicide


There you go, Reid angst, I hope it was to your taste; please let me know what you thought. And you know how to do that? REVIEW!

Sammy