You know he doesn't want you here, but you also know he needs you. He needs someone, he needs help. After Henkel he became another person, you didn't recognize him anymore. It was like the lovely, sweet and caring Spencer was completely gone.

He is thin, too thin, more than usual. He isn't sleeping and you know it because it's written all over his face, most of all around his eyes. His nails are too long, his hair greasy, he always wears the same clothes and he also smells a bit. His aparment is a freaking mess. He's a germaphobe, for God's sake. He has never been like this, something really bad is happening to him.

You have been thinking about it for some weeks. But he can't be high. He didn't even drink alcohol, my god. But that was the only reason why he could have been acting this way.

Mood swings, lack of hygiene, snarkiness, lack of empathy and intimacy... all the bells ringed. He was clearly on drugs, even if a part of you didn't want to believe it.

He didn't contact you at all this week, and you were now in his apartment. You knew he was working because Garcia told you earlier, so it was the perfect occasion to use the spare key he gave you when Spencer was still Spencer.

You wanted to help him so bad that you started cleaning out his house. You threw out all the garbage, cleaned the floors and surfaces, washed the dirty laundry, changed the sheets of his bed. You wanted him to come home to a clean aparment and to talk things out.

After a few hours, you hear the front door unlocking, revealing the tall and slim figure of your boyfriend. When he steps in and he notices you, he looks at you. His expression is clearly unhappy, mad, but also numb.

"What the hell are you doing here." He asks, trying not to shout at you, before he looks around. "And why the hell did you clean up my aparment? Who f#cking gave you the right to do that?!"