A Good Man- Mush

There's certain things, people, or even days that Spencer Reid had come to realize, that you hold just a bit more dear to your heart, pay just a bit more attention to, just think a bit more about than you should. For some, it's a person who saved their lives. Others, a day in their lives that they'd become permanently stuck on. Even more, the most popular thing, Spencer thought, was that one thing, that one poison that you thought was your only safe harbor but in reality had always been the thing holding you back. Spencer, with all his smarts, all his knowledge, all his experience, knew too damn well how consuming it could be to a person. It became a routine, an addiction, an obsession- and, eventually, your doom, because if you let it take hold of you, let it consume you, it would tear you to pieces and turn you into mush. And that? That was the worse thing you could do to yourself.

Spencer Reid had been an addict. Dilaudid was his poison, forgetting was his reason.

Sitting on a vacant bench in the bustling , snowy DC shopping center, Spencer fingered the coin in his hands and thought. This was his day to celebrate, this was his day to say he'd made it through. It had been four years since he last stabbed himself with a syringe, four years exactly. And what did he have to show for his efforts? He had a medallion. He had his job. He had his family and his friends. He had his own personal pile of mush that had resulted in the addiction in the first place. The most evident thing, the most important anyways, was that he had his life. Today, those things were the only ones that mattered. The world around him-complete with its crime, its busy people too self-occupied to realize they had just become victims of crime, its nosy neighbors and fearless heroes, its businessmen and the people who defrauded them- held no significant meaning to him whatsoever. Today, it was just him, his medallion, and a cup of coffee he had just bought freshly brewed. This was how he'd celebrate the last four years of his life. It was simple, but it was enough.

'A good man', Spencer thought as he leaned his head back, closed his eyes. 'That's all I've ever wanted to be.' Today, he could look himself in the mirror and make-believe that he actually was just that. Four years ago, he looked in the mirror and saw the most pathetic man to walk the Earth. Pretending would be enough-for now. It was progress, anyways.

Suddenly, Spencer's cell phone started buzzing in his pocket. His eyes snapped open, but the only action he made next was to turn the damn thing off. He was celebrating, after all. Didn't they realize that? He had promised himself that he wouldn't leave until he finished his coffee, and so that was exactly what he'd do. Sip by sip, memories came flooding in. The worried looks from his friends, the closest thing he had had to family in years. Unbearable pain from withdrawals. Pure self-hatred that he'd once thought would never go away. All of it was over now. It was time to move on.

Spencer stood to his feet and sighed, taking his last sip. He then threw away the cup and turned his phone back on. He frowned a bit. It was from Rossi. Normally, Garcia or JJ would call for the BAU, so it had to be unrelated from work. Curious, he hit the redial button.

"Hello?" came the muffled reply.

"You called?" Spencer answered back, sounding just as worried as Rossi had.

"Happy fourth."

Spencer stopped in his tracks. A smile spread across his face. He should've guessed. "How'd you know?"

"I wasn't around when you….When that happened," Rossi started, "but I got suspicious when you requested the day off. Your behavior lately also tipped me off."

"My behavior?" Spencer frowned.

"Don't worry about it, kid," Rossi smirked. "I only meant that you've been acting a little secretive lately, more so than usual." Spencer didn't respond, just shook his head and continued walking. "Listen, I was wondering if you wanted to go out for drinks tonight. I'd understand if you said no, but-"

"I'd love to," Spencer smiled back.

A smile crept up on Rossi's face before he hung up the phone. Spencer frowned. Had Rossi just hung up on him…?

Suddenly, a car horn to the right of him made him jump.

"Ready, Reid?" Rossi smirked as he opened up his passenger door.

Spencer smiled back and jumped in the car. "Yeah, I think I'm good now."