Spencer Reid Oneshots~ by writing-in-april

A Greek Tragedy~ Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Masc. coded) (ANGST)

Summary:
A/N: So- this originally wasn't supposed to hurt this much. But- I kinda ran with it and now there's way more angst than fluff. I'm not usually an angst person myself but I still think this is one of my best pieces so far. Thanks to ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff on tumblr who requested that I write something with the dialogue prompt. Also thanks to zhuzhubii
for the gif and fueling my angsty thoughts. This is also one of my pieces for my 500 follower celebration over on tumblr if you would like to check the rest of them out! The reader is written with no pronouns here BUT the characters I mention Phylades and Orestes are two males so it's masc. coded.
⚠️ Warnings: Drug use, Drug withdrawal, Mild allusions to suicide, Throw up, Wishing death upon others, Hurt comfort with heavy angst, Sorta happy ending (there's a light at the end of the tunnel)
Word count: 1.2k

Greek plays were often marred with tragedy- they did happen to have a whole genre of plays based solely on that fact. I felt like my life had become one recently, as it was only filled with sadness, regret and anger.
After Spencer had come back from being kidnapped from Hankel everyone knew he had come back a changed man. He was more snippy and aggressive to the point that he was sometimes hostile with the team.
I got the brunt of the repercussions from the kidnapping, with living and working together l saw almost every swing in Spencer's mood. I never minded being there when he was low, taking care of my partner in his time of strife was a job that I took seriously. It still pained me every time I saw him sneak off to go to the bathroom, trying to avoid any prying eyes of his concerned team. I knew exactly what he was doing, I had had my suspicions during the month when he was forced to stay home right after the tragedy, though I had not wanted to push him to reveal it until he was ready. My suspicions were confirmed the night when I had enough of his 1 hour long stint in the bathroom, kicking in the door to make sure my poor boy hadn't gone too far.
After that he had been more open with me seeing as there was no hiding from his problem from me. Even though I told him I would sit through every moment of him getting clean, he still looked at me in disbelief almost like he thought I was going to leave him. It hurt me to see my boy so broken down to the point that he no longer believed in my love for him. He need not worry I would never leave him, I loved him too much.
A tragedy indeed.
In the back of my head I resented the team for not offering help, for not being here through the worst moments or even through the easiest of times. As soon as they saw a floundering fish they swam to the bottom with the rest, if only to protect themselves. Even JJ and Derek who he considered his brother and sister even though they were not related by blood had swam to the bottom. I selfishly wished to myself in the moments I was helping Spencer that they slept with instead of swam with them, I didn't really care if that made me a bad person. Maybe they left to find their Atlantis down there, after all it was Plato's concept of an 'ideal state'. It didn't matter how perfect it was if it was without my Spencer I did not want to swim with them, I would flounder with him .
I would stay.
For better or for worse.
In sickness and in health.
It did not matter that we were not married yet, I had already taken that vow. There had been no witnesses when I had made it in front of our bathroom mirror, but it was as important to me as any legal document. Maybe even more important.
I stayed through everything.
Even as he hurled insults at me, tried to escape my grasp to rummage through my drawers to find his fix, and kicked and screamed loud enough that he was no doubt bothering our neighbors.
I still stayed
That wasn't the part that broke my heart the most. The worst tragedy I went through was after he had lost all of his energy, was all out of fight and wanted it all to end. It usually hit after he had gotten ill again, throwing up whatever was left in his stomach until it was only painful dry heaving. I helped all that I could, though the only thing I really could do in those moments was whisper soothing words and hold his hair back to prevent it from getting messy.
It was easy to feel hopeless when awash with tragedy, to feel like there was no light at the end of the tunnel. But, the thought of abandoning the one that I loved so much seemed far worse.
So I stayed.
I stayed no matter how tragic it got.
The symptoms were particularly bad today, this was his first day completely without his drug of choice after helping wean off. He had fought me harder than I expected today, all in an attempt to find drugs that the two of us had already dumped down the sink together. And, when he had remembered where they had gone his fight had renewed to a strength not unlike the vengeful Poseidon, an angry force of water whipped up into a violent storm. Though, in Spencer's case the water had been tears falling down his cheeks while pleading for me to let him get in contact with his dealer.
After the worst of it had passed, the tears had mostly dried with only the shakes remaining; I sat next to my darling boy trying to comfort him. I was holding his hand as tight as I could as some reassurance to him that I was real, not some hallucination cooked up by his brain.
"I'll take care of you." It felt as if I had said those words too many times to count, it always seemed like he forgot them as soon as they fell past my lips or he chose to ignore them believing I was a figment of his imagination. I pulled him onto my lap so his head rested in the perfect spot for me to run my fingers through his hair, wanting to hold him close. Even though it was slightly drenched in sweat and his skin was clammy I still continued my actions in an attempt to alleviate the withdrawal shaking through his body. However, my minimal discomfort far outweighed Spencer's, I would take on every single one of his burdens if only to see him smile.
"It's rotten work." I wasn't sure if Spencer's mumbled quote of the Greek tragedy Orestes was intentional or something he had pulled from his genius brain on accident while still slightly out of it. I hadn't read the play by Euripides before like he had, but I did know the rest of the quote. Though, I also did know that the two characters who said it were murderers, but the appeal of vengeance on another was now becoming a normal thought for me so perhaps I understood them. Regardless of my thoughts I still finished the quote to him if only to bring him a small form of comfort would soothe my soul and hopefully his.
"Not to me. Not if it's you." I meant my words with all my heart, mind, and soul. It may be a tragedy, but it was ours to bear together. I was his Pylades and he was my Orestes- lovers but most importantly best friends.