UNSTEADY ➢ spencer reid

DANCING AFTER DEATH

"I think we need to break up or whatever." We talked for hours before I brought it up, but I could tell we were near the end. We'd talk about everything else already and the subject of us was really the only thing left. What was going to happen, I wasn't sure, but I felt I needed to speak my mind even if it was painful.

Spencer exhaled, staring at the floor. I wondered what was going on in that amazing brain of his. I imagined a lot. He seemed like the type to weigh all his options, like me, but definitely a lot more logically. After a while, he let out a heavy sigh and looked over at me, nodding his head. He remained silent, scanning me with his beautifully tired eyes.

"I just don't think it's fair." I tried to think of something else to say. Something that sounded less stupid, but nothing came out. It really wasn't fair. We'd only just met. Why were things already so complicated?

"No, no," he said, "you're right. It's not fair." At this point we were sitting on the couch. He reached over, placing a hand on my knee and giving it a squeeze. "It's for the best though, I think."

It felt like I had no tears left, because the second Spencer spoke I no longer felt like crying. It was like my body had been prepping all day for this. "This sucks." I whispered.

"It does, but so does addiction. It takes a lot of lives, Lor. Around five point three percent of people die an alcohol related death."

I scoffed, "thanks that makes me feel a lot better."

"Sorry."

"I just, I-I really like you." I bit my lip and stared at the floor.

"I like you too," he replied, "but you need to get better before we can make this work."

We both knew that, even though I definitely felt I was a lot more reluctant to accept it. The idea of leaving Spencer sucked. More than the idea of never drinking alcohol again, which despite everything I learned today, also really sucked.

Spencer pulled me in and we hugged on the couch for a while before his phone rang. He turned in on silent almost immediately, pulling me closer. "Do you know what you're going to do next?"

I nodded. "I'm going to call the rehab centre in Stafford. Self admit myself there if I can. The doctor I met with gave me a number for a therapist, but I assume they'll have people at the centre for that kind of stuff."

"Okay."

"I don't really know what's going to happen, but I want you to know that when this is all over I hope we can hang out again, even if it's just as friends or whatever." I smiled. "You're a good person with a good brain."

He smiled back. "Maybe after all this your brain won't lie to you anymore."

"Maybe."

He left not longer after that. He offered to stay and keep me company, but I figured if we were going to break up it probably wasn't a good idea for him to stay over. He gave me one final hug, kissing me on the forehead before leaving. I stood at the doorway, watching as he got into his big black SUV and left. I felt my chest ache at the sight. I so badly wanted to run out there and drag him back inside, but I didn't. I just stood there, watching him drive away without saying a word. The second his vehicle was out of sight I started crying again. I closed the door behind me and sank to the floor. I pulled my knees up to my forehead, wrapping my arms around them tightly.

I was alone and it fucking sucked.

I wiped my face and stood up, wandering to the living room where I'd left my phone. I googled the Stafford rehab centre and searched for the phone number. Without hesitation, I called it. If I was going to do this I had to set things in motion before I could think about it and change my mind. The phone rang a couple of times before a woman answered. I asked her a couple of questions about their programs and self admittance and by the end of the conversation I had an appointment set up to come in tomorrow to check everything out. I thanked her and hung up, feeling nervous.