-Tag to 6.12. NO SLASH!-

Mind Blown

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

He tried. He wore sunglasses, he sat in the darkest corner on the plane, he shut and covered his eyes, he lied to himself and to his friends, he took enough Tylenol to tranquilize a horse, he tried. But the lights were too bright, far too bright. So much pain…god it hurt.

He knew they knew something was wrong. They weren't stupid. But he had to lie, he had to. He'd die if he didn't.

He sat in his apartment, no lights, save the ones filtering through the windows onto the floor. God his head… Dizzy, nauseated, frustrated. He had to force his mind to let him think. He pressed his forehead to the cool glass of water he was holding, trying to dull some of the agony.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Like a hammer and nail in his skull, pounding deeper and deeper into the center of his brain. He wanted to scream. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak and…god, he couldn't think!

He took a drink, wondering why he was attempting this pointless act of trying to lessen his agony.

"I'm not crazy," he whispered to no one. "I'm not…I don't have it…"

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

He missed J.J., he missed her a lot. He tried not to think about her so it didn't hurt so much. He had so much pent up inside him, things that had happened years ago that he had yet to face.

Like the nightmares of Tobias Hankel beating him senseless, kids at school continually humiliating him in the most awful ways imaginable with absolutely no one there to help him. Dreams of dead bodies, of dead friends. Morgan and Hotch being brutally murdered right before his eyes, Prentiss being literally ripped apart and he couldn't move, Garcia not waking up after she'd been shot.

It was all too much. But he didn't face it, he hid it. Tucked it away deep, deep down inside.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

He set the glass down, digging at his eyes with his palms. White hot pain flashed like a whip behind his eyes, spreading through his entire skull. He fell back on his bed, groaning, frustrated tears in his eyes. His stomach flipped and churned inside him.

"Damn it," he hissed, hand over his eyes.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

He frowned, unsure if that was knocking or if it were the pounding in his head.

Boom, boom, boom, boom. "Kid, you in there?"

He sighed and stood, holding his arm out to steady himself, thunder rumbling between his temples as the blood rushed around his body.

He walked into the living room, flicking on a lamp as he went.

"Ahn!" He exclaimed, immediately turning away from it and opening the door before Morgan could knock again.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Morgan looked at his friend, worry in his eyes. Spencer squinted at him, leaning against the door, one hand on his forehead.

"Morgan, do you know what time it is?" He asked. Morgan's brow cocked.

"Yeah, it's about eight thirty," he said. He frowned. "Can I come in?" He nodded, stepping out of the way, flinching away from the orange glow of the streetlight.

He closed the door and turned to face his worried friend.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked. Morgan frowned.

"What's goin' on with you?"

"Nothing," Spencer lied, hoping that in this light Morgan couldn't see his expression. He shook his head.

"You think after all this time I can't tell when you're lying?" He said, skeptical. Spencer looked at the floor, chewing his lip.

"It's nothing," he said. "There's nothing to worry about, I'll be alright."

"What's wrong?"

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

Spencer sighed. He didn't want to have to talk, it hurt to talk. He didn't want that damn light to be on, either.

"I just have a headache," he said shortly.

"How long have you had it?" Morgan asked. He didn't want to answer. He didn't want to have to feel like he had to answer.

"About a week."

Morgan's already worried expression turned grim. "Have you been-"

"To a doctor? Yes. I'm in pain, not stupid," he scowled.

"What'd they say?"

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

He shook his head, anger welling inside him. "It's-"

"Don't say it isn't my business, Kid, Hotch is worried about you. It's either you tell me or you tell a bunch of Bureaucratic assholes dig through your life."

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

"They said there was nothing wrong with me," he snapped. "They didn't find a thing wrong with me." Morgan frowned.

"But you've had this headache for a week?" He frowned. "Well, then, it's gotta be-"

"Don't!" He spat, his anger spilling over.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

"All I'm sayin' is you're stressed out, Kid," he assured. Spencer glared at him. "Maybe you should take a break or somethin'. I know there's a lot on your mind-"

"There's nothing wrong with me," he snapped. "Nothing, I'm fine."

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

"Kid, you went into a house with an armed psychopath without a vest on. You haven't been able to be out in direct sunlight and you've been sitting in the dark all night. That's a little far from fine," Morgan said pointedly.

"There's nothing wrong with my head!" His cheeks were pink, fists clenched. Morgan stood, seeing how angry he was making him.

"I didn't-"

"Yes you did!" He barked. "Just because my mother is the way she is doesn't mean I am!" The tears in his eyes were becoming harder to hold back. "I'm not crazy, Morgan, I'm not like her! I can't become that. The doctors were wrong, they've been wrong before! I'M NOT CRAZY!"

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

"I'M NOT CRAZY! I'M NOT-"

Morgan hugged him, holding him still. Spencer writhed and squirmed to get away from him, furious, scared. The tears he'd tried desperately to hide away were streaming down his cheeks. He drove his fist into his side, trying to get him to let go.

Morgan winced, but didn't let him go. He waited until the fight went out of his young friend. Spencer collapsed against him, the pain in his head so strong he couldn't see.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

"I'm not crazy…" He sobbed.

"Shh," Morgan soothed. "Shh, I know, I know you're not."

"It hurts…god, it hurts, I can't see…" he moaned.

"Shh, let it out, just let it out, Kid."

Those big brown eyes were bloodshot, the tears coming painfully and flowing despite how badly he wanted them to stop. Like bleeding.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

He cried, and cried, and cried.

He cried about the nightmares, he cried about J.J., he cried for the hundreds upon hundreds of victims he'd seen die, he cried for the boy that was shot in front of him. He cried because Gideon left, because his father abandoned him. He cried remembering the paralyzing fear he'd had when Tobias slid that needle in his arm, when Elle lost it, when he thought his father killed someone…

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

"Shh, shh, it's alright," Morgan soothed. "Just let it out, Kid, it's okay."

Spencer's knees had given out from under him a long time ago, but Morgan held him. He got him over to the couch, letting him sit down while he cried. He was shaking all over, body wracked with painful sobs.

Morgan shut his eyes, shushing him, rubbing the back of his head, trying to make this better.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

"I'm sorry," he moaned. "I'm so sorry."

"Shh, shh… It's alright, don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

He was apologizing to his mother, for sending her away, for making her so scared, for making her cry…

Boom. Boom. Boom.

"Don't, don't, don't!" He begged, willing the memories of being tied to that goalpost away, but they wouldn't leave.

He was only a kid, he didn't know what to do. He tried to fight, but they were so much bigger than he was. He couldn't do anything to make them stop. He screamed, he cried, he begged.

"Please, don't!"

"Hey, hey, you're right here, Kid. No one's hurting you, shh…"

Boom. Boom.

He fell asleep. He didn't know when, but he did. He woke up in his bed next morning, unsure of how he got there. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. He froze, looking at the sunlight filtering through the room. His headache was gone.

END

-Thank you! More soon!-