Spencer is late to work. That worries you to no end.

Spencer is not one to be late, no less never tell any of the team. So you wait a few minutes, which wane into a few more minutes, and you watch the door attentively as the rest of the team does whatever the hell they need to do. You wait a half hour before calling it, deciding you need to go check on him, so you hurry up to Hotch's office, let him know the situation, and then you're on your way, exiting the bullpen with a short "I'll be back" to the team.

The elevator ride down to the parking garage, your mind is on Tobias Hankel. The walk to find your car, it's on the torture that Spencer was put through just a few weeks ago. The car ride to Spencer's building, you're thinking about what could be going on at his apartment right now, and you wonder if you're overreacting. God, you hope you're overreacting.

You step out of your car and hurry into the lobby, going up the stairs immediately and to his apartment. You wonder once again if you should just leave, give him space, before you lift your hand and knock softly on the door.

"Reid?"

No answer. But you do hear some shuffling inside, so you know that he's home. You listen closely, eyes narrowed, as something clatters to the hardwood floor and you hear Spencer hiss slightly, probably at the sound that confirms to you that he's here.

"Spencer, can you open the door?"

Another long stretch of silence, and just when you're about to turn away, walk back down the stairs, the door opens a miniscule amount and you see Spencer, albeit shrouded in shadows, poking his head out the door. Even from that tiny amount of view, you can tell something's up. His hair is disheveled, he's restless, and his eyes— they're very dilated. You push the door open a bit more and he gives way without much fight, stumbling back into the apartment as you walk inside. You're about to ask him why he wasn't at work today when your eyes catch the vial on the floor, thrown into a corner as if that would hide it. Dilaudid, you remember now.