Nightmares To Daydreams

Chapter Forty-Two

Trigger Warning for this and all chapters in this book. If by now you haven't realized, this book will cover many traumatizing topics such as murder, rape, drugs, addiction, eating disorders, anxiety, depression, PTSS, etc. This chapter, specifically, is centered around eating disorders and its side effects. If you cannot handle this or are uncomfortable with this skip or stop reading. You have been warned.

   Therapy with Hotch was coming to an end, and with it your break from work. Spencer had begun noticing your food avoidance but somehow you were both skirting around the issue.

   You reached to turn the shower off, feeling the warm water cascade down your back as you did so. Pulling back the shower curtain you shivered as the cold air met your warm skin. The towel was a welcome warmth as you stepped onto the cool, tile floor. Just before you started getting dressed, something caught your eye.

   The shiny corner of your scale was poking out from its place beside your laundry hamper. Suddenly, knowing how much you weighed was the most important thing in the world. You gripped the scale with shaking fingers and placed it flat on the floor. The rational part of your brain realized that no matter what number appeared you would not be satisfied. You dropped the towel onto the sink, it would add an ounce or two, and stepped onto the scale.

   You watched with mortification as the number on the scale beneath you continued to climb. Finally, it stopped. In the last three weeks you'd lost 17 pounds. You couldn't help but feel proud as you began to examine yourself in the mirror. The thorough examination of your naked body was interrupted by a quick knock on the door.

   "Yes?" The doorknob turned and you scrambled to cover yourself with your towel as Spencer stood in the doorway. He looked you over and raise his eyebrows, his expression worried. "You needn't hide from me love. You already know that I think you're the most beautiful person to have ever walked this Earth," you smiled slightly but immediately began doubting his words in your head. "Hotch is almost here," he paused before enveloping you in a tight hug, "I love you."

   It had become routine for Spencer to take his session first. You wandered the apartment, avoiding the kitchen in order to keep from interrupting their session. You now stood in the living room, idly flipping through Spencer's copy of war and peace, when you overheard pieces of their conversation.

"She's not eating Hotch," he paused, clearly trying to censor himself. Hotch quickly caught on and urged him to spare nothing, Hotch wanted to help. "Normally, after sex we're both ravenous, which makes sense because sex of our caliber burns upwards of two hundred calories an hour. But now she's finding excuses not to eat after. Claiming she's too tired or something." He stopped speaking again, lost in his own thoughts. "Is that all? Are there other instances of Y/n avoiding food?"

   The silence was thick as you listened intently. You hadn't realized just how much Spencer had noticed. "Yes there are. We eat together a lot. She thinks I don't notice her chewing slowly or drinking more water than normal, but I do. She throws away most of her plate at every meal. At dinner the other night I took her to one of her favorite places and it was taking her double the normal time to pick her éntree. I think. I think she was comparing calories."

   He'd noticed that? You wanted to move, to run, but you were bolted to the spot. You felt horrible. You could hear the pain and worry in Spencer's voice but you couldn't stop. The very idea of eating repulsed you. The thought of losing the nauseating hunger that had become comforting over the past three weeks made you supremely uncomfortable. You'd grown used to the constant headache. You'd grown used to momentarily losing your sight when you moved too fast. Recovering meant leaving that behind and delving into the unknown. Plus, you couldn't convince yourself that you needed recovery.