Tittle: Never Forget
By: Liannis
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: gen
Summery: Reid reflects on his past in the aftermath of "Elephant's Memory [HD]".

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"I know it's painful when the person you identify with turns out to be the bad guy."

"So what does that make me?"

"Good at the job."

Reid considered Hotch's words long after the rest of the team had fallen asleep. He dared not sleep himself, or he'd find himself lashed to the goalpost again, surrounded by a jeering mob and chillingly aware of what lay in store for him. At such times, his logical profiler's brain failed him, leaving only litle Spencer, begging to be released and crying for his mommy. It did not happen often anymore, only on certain cases. Each time, he'd wake in a cold sweat, and the memory would linger all day.

There were numerous incidents in Reid's childhood, all with varying degrees of cruelty, but after seeing the wrestling video, he understood Owen, better than he was even able to admit to himself. They were the same person, and try as he might, Reid couldn't identify what exactly was the deciding factor that kept him from falling over the edge into the darkness just like Owen had.

Reid had no Jordan, no real family to speak of, save his mother whose parenting skills were iffy at best. He had worked very hard to get where he was today, something that was unlikely to hold true for all of his tormenters. He saved lives, helped people on a daily basis, and his job meant something. At times, it felt like a Pyrrhic victory with the personal cost far outstripping the meager gains he had made.

He would never admit it to the team, but there were days he would give it all back for another shot at his youth. A chance to be like the other kids, to have friends, to look at a football field without an icy chill going down your back, to be told by a teacher to settle down and pay attention like just another kid. But, Spencer Reid had never been 'just another kid'. His intelligence was matched only by his social awkwardness, a combination that made him a prime target for other children his entire life. He was different, and that made him bad. If only they knew how little those differences actually mattered.

The closest he'd been able to come was with the drugs. Dilaudid had given him something that he'd never had, the ability to forget. A time when his past didn't exist, when his brain was free of all that had weighed him down as far back as he could remember. As much as he cursed the one who had gotten him hooked, he hated himself more. He hated himself for the fact that he was weak enough to crave it, and the endless facts and figures on addiction he could recite by memory could not convince him otherwise. That was why he would go to another meeting, and another one, until he had a chip of his own. Then, he could return the one he'd been given, understanding all too well now what he had been told. He wasn't just saving others, he was saving Spencer too.

"Every time you win, it diminishes the fear a little bit. You never really cancel the fear of losing; you keep challenging it." - Arthur Ashe

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