(5) Payback

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"Go back?" he thought. "No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!"

So up he got.


― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, or There and Back Again


ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ ɤɤɤɤ


"Hi, I need to pick up Suboxone for a friend." You smile at the pharmacist. "But I forgot the prescription. Could I still get it now? I will pay for it."

They eye you up and down and you try to look as sweet as honey, even though your heart is beating in your throat. You need to get it like this, or Spencer will be on record.

"How many pills are supposed to be in the bottle?"

Thank God.

"Forty-Five."

He raises his eyebrow: "That will be 300$."

You nod: "That's alright."

He shrugs his shoulders and goes to get it.

You pay in cash and quickly leave.

Spencer is sitting in your car, waiting for you. Quickly, you get in and fasten your seatbelt, scared that for some reason the pharmacist changes his mind and will follow you.

Only when you're on the road, you let out a relieved sigh and hand Spencer the pills: "That will be enough for a month. Hopefully, you'll be good after that."

He stares at the bottle of pills and then back at you: "How much did they cost?"

You take a right, back to your apartment: "Don't worry about it."

"No." He objects. "I want to pay you back."

Eyes on the road, you reply: "You will pay me back by getting clean."

It's Sunday evening and you haven't let Spencer alone longer than ten minutes since Friday. The ten minutes were you showering. And maybe some bathroom breaks.

You quietly drive back to your apartment.

Suddenly, Spencer asks: "Why are you so nice to me?"

At the next red light, you turn your head to meet his eyes: "Why shouldn't I?"

He fumbles with the bottle of pills: "Because I was an ass."

You let out a laugh: "Yeah, you were." After a pause you answer seriously: "I saw you struggle and no one else looking after you. By then the rest of the team pissed me off more than you did."

"They look after me." Spencer raises his voice.

You squint your eyes: "They have been profilers and you coworkers for what? Five years? And they didn't realize what's been going on with you. It took me like two weeks."

He doesn't reply. He just looks out the window.

"Look, I understand that you want to defend them. They are your friends, your family, but they..." You sigh. You don't want to drag them through the dirt. They still make you angry, however. Spencer stays quiet.

Parking the car, you say: "This whole ordeal simply reminds me of what I went through, and no one looked after me. I just want to... I don't know." You rub your hands over your face.

Taking a deep breath, Spencer puts his hand on your shoulder and waits until you look at him. "Thank you." He whispers.


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