"Look, Mr. Hotchner, Agent Hotchner, Hotch, my brother is dead, we've dealt with it already, I have a life, people I need to take care of, the last thing I need to do is throw my family into any unknown water anytime soon bringing this back up," I s...
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~ i remained to much inside my head and ended up losing my mind ~
Starring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but let my thoughts run wild.
I was tired, so tired, yet I couldn't get myself to sleep.
It was as if the very thought of any rest was fought out of my head, leaving the death of Dax, betrayal of my parents, and Hotchner.
I couldn't even concentrate on one thought, everything was just everywhere.
Sitting up, I take a deep breath, cupping my face in my hands.
Standing up I walk to my closet, grabbing Derek's sweatshirt I stole a long time ago.
Slipping it on, I grab my purse from the table by my bed, I walk out of the room, down Rossi's stairs.
Sending a quick text to Dave that I was out and no to freak if I'm not back when he woke up, I grab my car keys to the bureau issued SUV.
Climbing into the car, I start the engine, driving out of his oversized driveway.
Eyeing the time, I let out a groan when I realize it was only 2, meaning I had 5 more hours before I was to be at work if I didn't want questions asked.
It kind of cracked me up that no one questioned my broken desk but will literally bombard me with questions if I walk into the building before 7:15.
Going over my options, I decide to head over to the diner Brooks took me to when we talked last.
Pulling up to the 24/7 diner, I exit my vehicle, grabbing my purse.
Grapping a cigarette from the pack, I light it, breathing in the relaxing nicotine.
I was highly annoyed that they raised the Tobacco buying age to 21, meaning I couldn't smoke at Dave's house anymore.
My anxiety was everywhere and I just needed this.
Taking in another hit, I zip up my purse, tucking my lighter in my back pocket.
I shy tap on my shoulder causes me to turn around, to be met with Spencer's hazel colored eyes.
Slowly taking the cigarette out of my mouth, I turn to the side to breath out the smoke before placing my cigarette on top of my ear.
"Hey Reid," I mumble, gratefully taking the piece of gum he offered.
He sends me a shy smile, "Um, hello," he speaks softly.
Pulling my purse over my shoulder, I dig my fingers into my palm, my anxiety spiking again.
Reid notices, "Want to go get something to eat and talk?" he asks, shoving his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the diner.
