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love_sacrificedTitle: Inotixcation
Author: JE /immortalje
Characters: Reid, Garcia
Summary: A drunk Spencer contemplates what to do about his problem with addiction considering Gideon's response to his request for help. He ends up calling Garcia.
Rating: FRT
Words: 1423
Beta: Does it count if I do it myself years later?
Other Locations: Ao3
AN: This was written at least 7 years ago as that's when I started using SVN to keep track of my stories across multiple computers (from switching to a new one to using those of relatives, I ended up having adding to the same story in different files once too often) and this one had been present from the beginning of that. I had gotten out of the habit of posting and am playing a bit of a catch up while writing new stuff.
Additionally, this was written for the prompt "Intoxication" but I have no idea as part of what kind of challenge this had been. I also noted down the pairing as Garcia/Reid, but I don't think this really reads like a pairing. Maybe I had intended to write more for it. If I did, I have no idea where I wanted to go with this back then...
Intoxication
All throughout the case he had struggled to admit the truth to just one of his co-workers. A part of him had always known that he couldn’t hide his struggles from them, but it had taken Ethan pointing it out that had made him realize that they were waiting for him to ask for their help. He remembered how unwilling Elle had been to take his help when he had offered it and he probably would have been just as unwilling had any of the others offered.
As a result, he had missed the plane on purpose, wondering if he could step away before he fell like Elle and did something dangerous. Well, more dangerous than he usually managed to do. The other reason had been that he needed to think. He needed to decide on who he trusted the most, who would be the best to help him.
He had discounted Hotch. His problem wasn’t exactly little and would require help outside of the job and it wasn’t that difficult to notice that Haley Hotchner already thought that he spent too much time at work. Asking him for help would just complicate this relationship and he didn’t want that.
He didn’t know Prentiss well enough yet to pick her and as much as he liked Morgan, he was out as well. Asking him would make him admit that their talk about empathy had been twisted in his head and had been interpreted to just take the drugs. He knew that it wasn’t what Morgan had meant when he had said, “Use it.” He knew that Morgan was talking about his newly acquired empathy, but his mind, still battling the addiction despite the detox he had gone through after escaping Hankel, had interpreted it as encouragement to take the Dilaudid. He knew it would come up and he didn’t want to hurt Morgan in that way.
He wondered if he should ask JJ. It was quite obvious that she still felt guilty about what had happened and this might give her the feeling to make up for it. On the other hand, it could just make her feel even guiltier.
The choice had been made, when Gideon had found him. It was almost like a sign to tell his mentor.
Only Gideon’s response to the admission that he was struggling had been like a slap in the face. As if battling addiction after being forcibly injected with a drug while being held hostage didn’t seem like something that was part of the job. Sure, there were plenty of statistics about law enforcement officers and addictions, but none of them were like his case.
He almost felt as if he was being abandoned in a pitch of hell by his mentor. The one person he had always trusted to make things alright since they had met. Shouldn’t the admission have been a sign already that he wasn’t going to beat this on his own?
After arriving back home, Spencer went out to get drunk. So far it was the only thing that managed to stop him from thinking about shooting up. Not that drinking was a whole lot better. It would be just like replacing one addiction with another. If he didn’t even end up addicted to both that is.
Eventually, after he managed to lose count of how many drinks he had had, he paid and stood up to leave the bar. He was shaky at best. Standing up caused everything to suddenly move around and Spencer realized that he was far more drunk than he had ever been in his life. It also became obvious that if he managed to get home and into bed, tomorrow would be hell. Hellish enough for him to need another fix and wasn’t that what he was trying to stop doing?
He had nowhere to go except home. He wouldn’t show up like this at JJ’s. Nothing could make him do that. All of a sudden, a blonde was walking by him and the dress up reminded him of Garcia. Garcia – who was always there for them, who always knew exactly what to say, who knew what he had gone through as well. Would she be able to help him? She certainly wouldn’t judge him.
Sliding to the floor in front of the bar, leaning up against the wall of the building, Spencer pulled out his phone and speed dialed Garcia.
“You’re talking to the Oracle of awesomeness. How can I help you?”
“Garcia,” Spencer slurred and he realized that he must have lost count for a reason. Trying again, putting more focus on it, he said, “Garcia. I need your help. I’m at…”
His brain wasn’t supplying the answer as it usually did. Looking up, he saw the familiar neon sign of a bar he’d been to with the team before and said, “I’m at Joe’s.”
“Are you drunk?”
“I didn’t want to get high… and I lost count.”
“I’m going to be there as soon as possible. I’ll call…”
“NO. Don’t tell anybody. Please.”
“Okay. I won’t tell anybody and I’ll be there as soon as possible. Don’t move.”
Spencer nodded, forgetting that Garcia couldn’t see him, mouthing a barely audible “okay” in return.
Slowly, he was beginning to feel sick. Holding the phone loosely in his hands, he focused on that feeling, judging how likely it was for him to actually vomit. He remembered the different stages from the detox and the one time he had been sick with a stomach bug as a child.
After what felt like forever, he heard a car stop in front of him. He avoided looking up, afraid that the motion would make him throw up.
There were footsteps and then, “Spencer, are you alright?”
Garcia had arrived. It felt as if no time had passed since the call and yet, he felt sicker than ever. His head was buzzed up and he could barely think.
He moaned a “no”, but wasn’t sure if Garcia would be able to understand him. He was feeling too miserable to pay attention.
“Oh, my poor baby,” he heard Garcia whisper, before a cool hand touched his left cheek, “I’ll take good care of you. Can you get up? I need you to sit in my car.”
The thought of getting up was revolting and his stomach made sure to let him know that as well. At the same time, he knew that he couldn’t remain where he was. Carefully he got up again and immediately the world around him started to sway again. Before he could say anything though, Garcia was helping him stay upright.
“If you don’t remember how much you drank, can you remember how much you paid?” Garcia said and Spencer tried to think about it.
Once again, he came up blank. It was what he wanted from the Dilaudid, the calmness of his mind that prevented thousands of thoughts bombarding his consciousness at any moment. Right now, it wasn’t what he wanted. There was one thing he remembered though, “I had 51 Dollar and 32 cent when I arrived.”
“Good. It’s easy to recount from that,” Garcia said as she carefully led him to her car. She only turned him in the right direction, only taking a step when he did, allowing him to set his own pace. He was immensely grateful for that.
Within a short amount of time, he was sitting in the car and shortly after that they were back on the road.
Garcia didn’t say anything, although Spencer knew that she must be itching to ask him questions about what had happened or why her. Or had she already figured that out?
“Did you tell anybody else?” Garcia finally said as they were taking a right turn, the opposite direction of his place. Although he wasn’t sure if she knew the way to his place, he assumed that she was taking him to her place.
Considering his options, Spencer eventually said, “I told Gideon I was struggling. In New Orleans.”
“You think he didn’t understand?”
Spencer shrugged, felt his stomach complain and vowed to refrain from doing that for now, before he said, “Maybe he thought I could handle it on my own.”
“Maybe he should have realized that you asking, was your admission that you can’t handle it on your own,” Garcia said.
Even though Spencer wanted to protest that thought, he couldn’t help but agree.
Not long after that Spencer fell asleep, thinking fitfully about what he could do next.
Author: JE /
immortaljeCharacters: Reid, Garcia
Summary: A drunk Spencer contemplates what to do about his problem with addiction considering Gideon's response to his request for help. He ends up calling Garcia.
Rating: FRT
Words: 1423
Beta: Does it count if I do it myself years later?
Other Locations: Ao3
AN: This was written at least 7 years ago as that's when I started using SVN to keep track of my stories across multiple computers (from switching to a new one to using those of relatives, I ended up having adding to the same story in different files once too often) and this one had been present from the beginning of that. I had gotten out of the habit of posting and am playing a bit of a catch up while writing new stuff.
Additionally, this was written for the prompt "Intoxication" but I have no idea as part of what kind of challenge this had been. I also noted down the pairing as Garcia/Reid, but I don't think this really reads like a pairing. Maybe I had intended to write more for it. If I did, I have no idea where I wanted to go with this back then...
Intoxication
All throughout the case he had struggled to admit the truth to just one of his co-workers. A part of him had always known that he couldn’t hide his struggles from them, but it had taken Ethan pointing it out that had made him realize that they were waiting for him to ask for their help. He remembered how unwilling Elle had been to take his help when he had offered it and he probably would have been just as unwilling had any of the others offered.
As a result, he had missed the plane on purpose, wondering if he could step away before he fell like Elle and did something dangerous. Well, more dangerous than he usually managed to do. The other reason had been that he needed to think. He needed to decide on who he trusted the most, who would be the best to help him.
He had discounted Hotch. His problem wasn’t exactly little and would require help outside of the job and it wasn’t that difficult to notice that Haley Hotchner already thought that he spent too much time at work. Asking him for help would just complicate this relationship and he didn’t want that.
He didn’t know Prentiss well enough yet to pick her and as much as he liked Morgan, he was out as well. Asking him would make him admit that their talk about empathy had been twisted in his head and had been interpreted to just take the drugs. He knew that it wasn’t what Morgan had meant when he had said, “Use it.” He knew that Morgan was talking about his newly acquired empathy, but his mind, still battling the addiction despite the detox he had gone through after escaping Hankel, had interpreted it as encouragement to take the Dilaudid. He knew it would come up and he didn’t want to hurt Morgan in that way.
He wondered if he should ask JJ. It was quite obvious that she still felt guilty about what had happened and this might give her the feeling to make up for it. On the other hand, it could just make her feel even guiltier.
The choice had been made, when Gideon had found him. It was almost like a sign to tell his mentor.
Only Gideon’s response to the admission that he was struggling had been like a slap in the face. As if battling addiction after being forcibly injected with a drug while being held hostage didn’t seem like something that was part of the job. Sure, there were plenty of statistics about law enforcement officers and addictions, but none of them were like his case.
He almost felt as if he was being abandoned in a pitch of hell by his mentor. The one person he had always trusted to make things alright since they had met. Shouldn’t the admission have been a sign already that he wasn’t going to beat this on his own?
After arriving back home, Spencer went out to get drunk. So far it was the only thing that managed to stop him from thinking about shooting up. Not that drinking was a whole lot better. It would be just like replacing one addiction with another. If he didn’t even end up addicted to both that is.
Eventually, after he managed to lose count of how many drinks he had had, he paid and stood up to leave the bar. He was shaky at best. Standing up caused everything to suddenly move around and Spencer realized that he was far more drunk than he had ever been in his life. It also became obvious that if he managed to get home and into bed, tomorrow would be hell. Hellish enough for him to need another fix and wasn’t that what he was trying to stop doing?
He had nowhere to go except home. He wouldn’t show up like this at JJ’s. Nothing could make him do that. All of a sudden, a blonde was walking by him and the dress up reminded him of Garcia. Garcia – who was always there for them, who always knew exactly what to say, who knew what he had gone through as well. Would she be able to help him? She certainly wouldn’t judge him.
Sliding to the floor in front of the bar, leaning up against the wall of the building, Spencer pulled out his phone and speed dialed Garcia.
“You’re talking to the Oracle of awesomeness. How can I help you?”
“Garcia,” Spencer slurred and he realized that he must have lost count for a reason. Trying again, putting more focus on it, he said, “Garcia. I need your help. I’m at…”
His brain wasn’t supplying the answer as it usually did. Looking up, he saw the familiar neon sign of a bar he’d been to with the team before and said, “I’m at Joe’s.”
“Are you drunk?”
“I didn’t want to get high… and I lost count.”
“I’m going to be there as soon as possible. I’ll call…”
“NO. Don’t tell anybody. Please.”
“Okay. I won’t tell anybody and I’ll be there as soon as possible. Don’t move.”
Spencer nodded, forgetting that Garcia couldn’t see him, mouthing a barely audible “okay” in return.
Slowly, he was beginning to feel sick. Holding the phone loosely in his hands, he focused on that feeling, judging how likely it was for him to actually vomit. He remembered the different stages from the detox and the one time he had been sick with a stomach bug as a child.
After what felt like forever, he heard a car stop in front of him. He avoided looking up, afraid that the motion would make him throw up.
There were footsteps and then, “Spencer, are you alright?”
Garcia had arrived. It felt as if no time had passed since the call and yet, he felt sicker than ever. His head was buzzed up and he could barely think.
He moaned a “no”, but wasn’t sure if Garcia would be able to understand him. He was feeling too miserable to pay attention.
“Oh, my poor baby,” he heard Garcia whisper, before a cool hand touched his left cheek, “I’ll take good care of you. Can you get up? I need you to sit in my car.”
The thought of getting up was revolting and his stomach made sure to let him know that as well. At the same time, he knew that he couldn’t remain where he was. Carefully he got up again and immediately the world around him started to sway again. Before he could say anything though, Garcia was helping him stay upright.
“If you don’t remember how much you drank, can you remember how much you paid?” Garcia said and Spencer tried to think about it.
Once again, he came up blank. It was what he wanted from the Dilaudid, the calmness of his mind that prevented thousands of thoughts bombarding his consciousness at any moment. Right now, it wasn’t what he wanted. There was one thing he remembered though, “I had 51 Dollar and 32 cent when I arrived.”
“Good. It’s easy to recount from that,” Garcia said as she carefully led him to her car. She only turned him in the right direction, only taking a step when he did, allowing him to set his own pace. He was immensely grateful for that.
Within a short amount of time, he was sitting in the car and shortly after that they were back on the road.
Garcia didn’t say anything, although Spencer knew that she must be itching to ask him questions about what had happened or why her. Or had she already figured that out?
“Did you tell anybody else?” Garcia finally said as they were taking a right turn, the opposite direction of his place. Although he wasn’t sure if she knew the way to his place, he assumed that she was taking him to her place.
Considering his options, Spencer eventually said, “I told Gideon I was struggling. In New Orleans.”
“You think he didn’t understand?”
Spencer shrugged, felt his stomach complain and vowed to refrain from doing that for now, before he said, “Maybe he thought I could handle it on my own.”
“Maybe he should have realized that you asking, was your admission that you can’t handle it on your own,” Garcia said.
Even though Spencer wanted to protest that thought, he couldn’t help but agree.
Not long after that Spencer fell asleep, thinking fitfully about what he could do next.
