No. Please, don't! I'm sorry!

"Emily!" Spencer's voice yanked her violently from her dream, causing her to jerk upright. Blinding pain exploded across her body, ripping a gasp from her throat.

"Emily? Are you okay?" his hands were on her back and thigh, softly, trying to reach her through her pain. She lurched out of bed, stumbling blindly for the bathroom. Her body screamed at every movement. Stumbling through the bathroom door, she quickly locked the door behind her, just as Spencer's hand reached for the doorknob. She was on her knees, arms clutching at the toilet, hair plastered to her sweat-coated forehead.

"Emily!" his worried voice from behind the door barely reached her ears over the sound of her own retching. The movement worsened the pain in her body, which, in turn, worsened her nausea. Tears flowed down her cheeks, as she collapsed back against the wall, her body too broken to move any further.

"Emily, please. Open the door!" Spencer's fist pounded anxiously against the door. She wanted to answer him, reassure him, but couldn't breathe between the cries that rocked her body.

"Emily, I swear I'll kick the door in if I have to." He was afraid. Slowly, Emily crawled towards the door and hauled herself to her feet, a new wave of pain threatening to break her weak resolve. The moment she unlocked the door it swung open, Spencer's worried face inches from hers.

"I just need a minute, Spe-" his arms around her cut her off. He was careful, gently holding her against him, but the action was intentional. Groggy, she laid against his chest, the adrenaline rush from her pain beginning to fade. Carefully, he guided her back towards her bed and lowered her onto it.

"I-I just need a minute, Spence." Her hand brushed against his cheek as he crouched beside her, brown eyes plagued with worry. He frowned further as her thumb ghosted across his jaw, her hand resting against the side of his neck. Slowly, Spencer nodded. Easing herself back to her feet, Emily inhaled shakily, trying to keep the pain from her face.

"Let me help you?" he sounded afraid, his awkwardness tugging at her heart.

"I'll just be a minute. I'm okay." Slowly, she forced her drained and aching body from the bed, moving to the dresser shakily. She dug around for a turtleneck and sweatpants, weakly moving back into the bathroom. Spencer didn't understand, though he wasn't sure whether something was wrong or if the drugs were clouding his judgement. Emily locked the door behind her, leaning against the it momentarily. Her heart lurched against her ribs, sending stabbing pains through her body. Tears pooled in her eyes, slipping down her face. Reaching for her toothbrush, Emily quickly brushed away the unsettling taste in her mouth. Internalizing a groan of pain, Emily pulled her turtleneck over her head and dropped it onto the counter before her. Slipping out of her pants, the brunette slowly raised her eyes to the shattered mirror before her. Her scars screamed red against her pale body, slashing and contorting her lean form. Self-hatred bubbled inside of her as she ghosted her fingertips across the inflamed flesh. Digging her fingers in, she couldn't stifle the whimper that crossed her lips. Pain exploded through her as she watched the red inflammation spread across her stomach.

"Emily?" Spencer's voice came from outside the door.

"Y-yeah, one minute." Slowly, Emily lifted the fresh shirt over her head, settling it over her broken body. Yanking on her sweatpants, she braced herself against the sink, taking one last self-loathing look at herself before moving towards the door.

Spencer heard the faucet run in the bathroom for a moment before Emily appeared in the doorway, eyes cast downwards with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. He was pacing her bedroom, wringing his hands. They locked eyes from across the room, her exhaustion meeting his worry.

"Are you alright?" he frowned. She nodded quietly, reaching for his hand to steady herself.

"You're doing it again." he murmured, unable to hold her gaze.

"I'm in pain, Spencer. But I'll be okay." she whispered, slowly crossing the room to him. "C'mere."

Spencer slowly stepped into her arms, gently wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. He held her for a while, his arms resting against her lower back as her hands rubbed soothing circles against the back of his sweaty neck. He was shaking against her, his body fighting the loss of his high.

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked quietly, pulling back from his embrace to brush his sweaty brown hair back from his forehead.

"N-no, I'm, uh, I'm fine."

"So you're allowed to lie, but I'm not." she murmured.

"Aren't you hot?" he nodded to her choice of clothing as he guided her back towards the bed. He settled back into his place beside her, giving her as much space as the bed allowed. She shrugged in response.

"How did you know?" he timidly reached for her, his fingertips resting against her upper arm.

"About?" Trying to readjust his fingers off of her scaring flesh, she slowly rolled to her side to face him again.

"How did you know I was using again?"

"They said you were different. Isolated. Jumpy. Hotch mentioned you were awake for the entire 72 hours I was... gone, and even after while I was in surgery. But you vanished and never reached out to me. I subconsciously knew there was something wrong. Then when I saw you... I saw it." her fingertips barely grazed the dark circles under his eyes and his cheekbones, now protruding just slightly more than they had before. "And your body language was different."

Reid nodded slowly, eyes scanning the brunette's face and covered body.

"Your body language is different, too." his words were barely audible.

"I know." with a sad smile, Emily moved to rest her head against his shoulder. His bony fingers smoothed across her raven hair, absentmindedly fingering a stray piece that strayed from the rest. Silence settled between them as her eyes slipped closed, soothed by his slow breathing and the feeling of his hand in her hair.

"Emily?" his hands ghosted from her hair to her shoulder, slowly moving down her side.

"Yes?"

"I don't like not understanding things." his fingers pulled at the fabric of her shirt gently, "and I don't understand this."

"It's just soft, Spence." she lied smoothly, tilting her head back to look up at his kind face.

"It might be. But there's something else... I-I'm sweating because my body is struggling to adjust to the lack of drugs in my system. I feel cold, but my internal body temperature is a lot higher than normal. You're laying on me, and I'm making you hot. You're sweating." he paused, the back of his hand brushing her damp hair back from her sweaty face, "But when you had the chance to change into something cooler, you put on even more clothes."

Emily's eyes avoided his, swallowing hard. He was profiling her behaviour and she wasn't sure how to lie her way out.

"You touch me, more than you used to, but they're empty gestures." He continued, gently easing out from beneath her head and onto his elbow so as to be able to watch her face for a reaction, "You're trying to keep up this facade that nothing has changed between us, but you're overselling. You're mad at me for disappearing and relapsing, which makes sense. But you haven't really mentioned it, you haven't lectured or chastised me. And I-I know you understand, but the natural response is to be at least mildly upset. But something else is distracting you too much. So you're going through hollow motions to make me think things are normal."

"I am not." her voice took on a slight edge as she pushed herself into a sitting position, her shoulders groaning, "I do care, Spencer. I care very much and I'm very upset, but it doesn't do anyone any good for me to lecture you. You know it wasn't right and you're detoxing. I'm not going through empty motions with you. Every time I touch you, I mean it. Everything I say, I mean."

She paused, breathing shakily, her hand pressing firmly against the protesting wound of her shoulder.

"I care very much about you, Spencer." her hand reached for his shoulder, her cold hand sizzling against his boiling bicep, "I'm doing the best I can. I know I'm different and I'm trying very hard not to be. But I assure you, nothing is hollow."

Spencer was silent for a moment, watching her face carefully and enjoying her hand on his arm.

"Okay..." he began, choosing his words carefully, "But what if I want you to be different?"

Her puzzled expression prompted him to elaborate:

"You went through a lot and that's obviously going to impact you. What if I want it to impact you? You went through hell and it seems counterproductive to encourage you to ignore that. Things change us, Emily. I changed after Tobias and you more than anyone told me that was okay. So be different, Emily. Just be real. Stop building up this unbelievable facade. It might fool everyone else, but I see through it."

Blinking back tears, Emily dropped her head into her hands. He was right.

A/N: So I'm feeling unsure of how to proceed from here, so I'm thinking of a temporary hiatus until there's more feedback on what direction things should take going forward. I've got a general idea of roughly one more chapter, but past that, I'm feeling stuck. Drop me some ideas in a review or feel free to send me a PM!