Title: The Weekend Comes To This Town
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Rating: Mature
Length: ~550
Content notes: Mentions of drug use, overdose
Author notes: Also fills the slot overdose in my 10_hurt_comfort table.
Summary: Spencer does not want to feel anything anymore.



The swirling liquid in the syringe looks so beautiful. The motion creates all sorts of patterns in the poisonous mix: flashes, cubes, stripes. Most of all stripes, and they are the most beautiful of them all.

Spencer wonders if the stripes will look as beautiful inside his veins as they look now. A small voice inside his head tries to tell him it hasn’t been long enough for him to have another fix, but Spencer ignores it. He has become very good at ignoring his inner voice lately, because all it wants is for him to boring and dull. He does not want to be boring and dull anymore. This… this is what he needs now, to be better and brighter and not feeling quite so much. He just can’t take it anymore, and those beautiful stripes will make him numb. Spencer thinks there was probably something wrong with the first syringe because he is still feeling too much instead of being numb. This should fix it, taking away his feelings of being a failure. That is all he has been feeling for so long. Nobody can understand what he’s going through, even if his friends try their best. Hotch… no, don’t go there. Hotch had enough issues of his own, he didn’t need to know about Spencer’s as well. Spencer was more than capable of taking care of himself.

Who needs feeling anyway? Their unsubs don’t have them, so why should they? Having too much feelings will only slow them down, making them look stupid. Feelings are useless.

Spencer grabs the syringe, determined to have his moment of numbness rather now than later. He just can’t stand it anymore. A little push… yes….

Spencer does not feel anything anymore, and his world is filled with those beautiful, beautiful stripes flowing effortlessly under his skin. Yes.

* * *

The next time when Spencer regains his consciousness, he realizes he’s no longer in his dingy hotel room. He’s lying what appears to be a hospital bed… and why there are restraints in his arms? Spencer tries to pull the restraints, but they won’t budge. He’s so, so cold and nauseous and sweaty and why won’t anyone help him? Pleasepleaseplease…

The door opens, and Hotch steps in with a grim look on his face. No. Nonono. There has been another murder, hasn’t there? And he has yet again failed his team, for getting admitted into the hospital for some reason Spencer is not sure yet. Judging by the cold and shivers, he probably has a cold of some sort – but that doesn’t explain the restraints. What is going on?

Hotch sighs, long and hard, and that’s when Spencer realizes he has been talking aloud the whole time. Hotch grabs the chair and sits down next to Spencer’s bed, his mouth a hard line.

It takes Spencer a while to grasp the meaning of Hotch’s words, but still he can’t believe them. He… overdosed? No, never. The medicine was just faulty which is why he had to take another dose, so he could work more efficiently. Hotch doesn’t say anything, just stares at his hands in silence. There are no words left to say, at least the kind of words Spencer will understand.

Spencer can still feel the echoes of the stripes under his skin.