#I am once again asking you to enjoy my 'Spencer Reid doesn't work for the BAU' fantasy

[sideblogforcrimpy-plus]

Rinse; Repeat

Words: 4,478, chapter one of probably two.

Rated: Handle with care, cw suicidal thoughts/discussion, canon typical violence, hints at abuse/bullying

Summary: Spencer and Derek meet before either of them are in the BAU. Spencer is hesitant as a deer to be close and all Derek wants is to be close (so does Spencer). Spencer is clearly Troubled and Derek just wants to love him softly, honestly. Like filtered afternoon sunlight and sepia filters.

but for real I just, I saw a post that made me laugh and go 'ahaha, unless?' and then sat down uncomfortably on the floor for three hours and wrote this.

For my own comfort/entertainment, Derek and Spencer are closer in age than my recent google search would lead me to believe. Thank (●'◡'●)

---- 2003

Derek was having a truly sucky day. The academy was rough, and as good as he was at all the physical stuff, there were some real smart people and he was so scared that he was all brawn and no brain. Not that he’d readily use the word ‘scared’ to describe himself if he could help it, but he was.

But realistically, he did get this far. So he did have some of the brain, but was it enough? Had he set his sights too high on the BAU?

Still, the doubt and insecurity wasn’t going to have him quit early. Partly because he really, really wanted this, but also partly because what would he tell his family if he’d put so much time into this and failed?

They’d comfort him and say they’re proud; he knows it. But would he be proud?

He doesn’t want to find out.

Dead tired despite the lack of physical training that day, he walked through the house and out to the balcony, only part stopping to shed his jacket and backpack.

The sun was long gone by now, and the stars were too hidden in such a built up area, but he braced himself with his arms on the railing and stretched his neck, trying to relax.

God, how many people even got through the academy each year?

“Chances are, if you’re already in the academy, you’ll come out the other side.”

God?

Had he asked that aloud?

Derek just about jumped out of his skin, training be damned. He was on the top floor and roof access was blocked. He must have made some sort of noise, because the sad, quiet voice came again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I’m not- I wasn’t… Startled.” Derek rubbed his forehead, hoping his voice didn’t sound it; startled. He wasn’t sure he’d heard that organically in conversation, more something you come across in text, in books and things.

“Oh. Sorry for assuming?” The speaker was hesitant, like they’d started apologising before they really knew why. Curious, and not thrilled someone had roof access and it wasn’t the guy (and his sister) who had the top floor apartment, Derek leaned out over the railing and twisted his neck, trying to see who answered him.

Before he could get a glimpse, he heard them step back.

How close to the edge was he? He watched as a bit of rubble fell past him and to the concrete below.

“I don’t think that’s something you need to apologise for, man. How’d you get up there, anyway? I was told we weren’t allowed because they don’t have railings. Or insurance, I think.”

“Well, that makes sense. Although a fall from a five story building isn’t guaranteed to be fatal; you’re better off on the eighth floor for that. But then again, there have been people that survived from even that height so, you can’t really win, can you? If you’re scared of heights or something.”

Derek’s curiosity took a quick dive into concern that sped right down to worry.

“Now I think you got that the wrong way around, better off on the lower floors if there’s no railing, right?”

There was a long pause, and Derek wondered if he’d be able to get up onto the roof in a reasonable amount of time if he had a sense of urgency pushing him.

“Perhaps. Can you imagine the injuries you’d be left with after surviving the fall?” He heard a foot scuff the ground above him and thought he’d started sweating despite the cool breeze. “It’d really suck to not have insurance then, huh? As the building owner, I mean.”

“Okay man, well, that’s a dark topic. And since there’s no railing, or maybe no seats up there either, why don’t you join me on my balcony instead? I might even be able to find a beer or something for you.”

“It’s not safe to go into a stranger’s house.”

“It’s not safe to think about people surviving and not surviving falls while you’re alone on a rooftop, close to the edge, and there’s no railing.”

“Well… Perhaps that’s a reasonable counterpoint.”

And that’s how Derek started becoming friends with a bundle of limbs and greasy hair that hid an incredible but haunted mind.

–

Spencer didn’t have a phone, so he’d just show up at Derek’s apartment intermittently. Well, his and Sarah’s. His mother had put money towards them renting it for the duration of Derek’s time at the academy and Sarah’s short term study since they lined up almost the same, with him likely finding some place more permanent for himself after.

He didn’t do well in the claustrophobic, shared dorms of the academy so would escape to the apartment when he could, and Sarah was completing her course close enough to make the apartment almost worth it. 

It had two shoebox rooms, and they had to share a bathroom, but it still had two rooms so it was a step up from the low bar the academy set. But she was out often with friends, study, and a part time job while he was still largely sleeping at the dorm, so they hardly saw each other.

He’d come back to Spencer hanging out near the block only a couple times; he didn’t seem to like loitering, like he was concerned Derek’s neighbours would get suspicious.

More often, though, Derek would go out onto the balcony and make some sort of noise, and Spencer would respond from above. Over time, Derek was relieved to note that Spencer was usually not so close to the edge as he was the first night.

But most of the time, unfortunately, was not all of the time.

Spencer wasn’t all that interested in drinking, but he was interested in sharing whatever he’d learned about recently. He absolutely did not share much about himself at all.

Despite how private Derek felt as a person though, he found he was sharing quite a lot about himself with Spencer. It was hard not to, inviting Spencer into a place he and his sister were living in though. She’d met him in passing once or twice, and had commented after he left, thankfully, about how shy he seemed to be.

Spencer was a bit like butter from the fridge; he needed time to soften up every single time he came over to Derek’s.

His most recent obsession, to Derek's suffering, had been body farms. After finding out that Derek was studying at the academy (which he was loath to share on account of those ever-present insecurities), Spencer had told him that he was interested in criminal behaviour, among other related things.

Not in a ‘watch true crime documentaries just for the nightmares, apparently’ kind of way, but more to work out the why, and sometimes guess at the how, of everything. He’d dropped stupid time into geographical profiling, in Derek’s opinion, for someone who wasn’t pursuing a career in a related field.

“And they have one, a body farm that is, in East Tennessee. Did you know that they run ten week courses there? Something they’ve done recently is watching for changes in hair for a body left in a car for two months. That’s so specific, isn’t it? Hair changes in a car? Although it’s safe to assume they’re obviously looking for more at the same time.”

“Obviously,” Derek agreed.

Spencer was way too excited for the topic at hand.

Derek continued before Spencer went back to talking about something like maggot life cycles. “Okay, so if I get through to being an FBI agent and I see a body in a car, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“You mean when. I don’t have a phone.” Spencer’s lips had a little curve, like he was self-conscious of smiling still but couldn’t help it fully.

“Right, right. Can you tell me how to summon you then, or will I just have to come here and call out at the roof until you appear?”

Now that was definitely a smile. Why did that feel just as good as high test scores?

The next time Derek was at the apartment, Spencer didn’t show. But there was a phone number written on a paper plane that had been thrown onto his balcony. Three, actually, and one he picked up on the way to the apartment that was stuck in a sad, over-pruned and under-watered hedge out front. How many had Spencer made that Derek didn’t find?

Eleven, it turns out. Spencer was a horrible shot, but Derek liked watching his long fingers folding the paper in what was ‘the most aerodynamic plane folding method’ the next time he was over. It felt a little silly to challenge him on it, especially since Derek knew fuck all about the aerodynamics of paper planes. And Spencer called him out on it.

“Superior hand-eye coordination doesn’t mean your plane folding method is superior, it just means you’re good with your hands.”

Derek wiggled his eyebrows, but continued speaking after he let the flush of Spencer’s cheeks sit for a moment.

“So you want me to throw one of yours, to see if I can do it better with your method?”

“It’s a reasonable request. You can’t test two theories for quality results if the testing methods are different.”

“You’re a sore loser, you know that?”

“You’re an unfair winner, did you know that?”

“So you admit I’m a winner?”

Spencer felt terrible that his next plane hit Derek in the eye, so Derek only milked it for half the time he would have liked to.

Spencer shoved his shoulder when Derek finally caved and laughed, indignant.

“You were playing it up!”

“It’s paper! It can’t hurt me that bad.”

“It did hit your eye. They might be the fastest healing body part, but they’re not impervious.”

“Pretty boy, if you want to kiss it better, I won’t stop you. But you don’t need to worry that much about it.”

Derek saw that sweet rush of colour on Spencer’s neck and cheeks, and the smile he was trying to hide before now took a shy edge as he tried to look casual.

“Well, if I injured you, I should do what I can to help.”

His voice was so quiet that Derek almost missed what he said. He tilted his head in question, raising a brow while trying to figure out if this was more word-based flirting or if one of them would actually take it further for once.

Spencer’s eyes were focused on his fingers, picking at lint that certainly wasn’t on the leg of his pants but held his gaze anyway. His eyes flickered up to Derek’s face though, and his tongue darted out to wet his lips just after.

“Well, you’re the doctor out of the two of us, what do you think I need?”

“I’m not a medical doctor.” Spencer’s voice seemed to be getting quieter, but Derek liked that his gaze was flicking more to Derek’s lips now.

“Maybe so, but I bet you know more about first aid than I do, especially with that fear of germs you got.”

“Me not shaking your hand is normal. The number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.”

Derek almost laughed at how embarrassed Spencer looked at that line, but knew if he did Spencer would think he was laughing at him and might take offense.

“So I should kiss you goodbye when you leave? Doctor Reid, who knew you could be so forward?”

“That’s not what I was saying! I just-”

Derek held up his hands, placating, while Spencer seemed to flap his. “Now now handsome, I didn’t say I was opposed.”

Derek thought he was floating when Spencer, so quickly it was barely a kiss, pressed his lips to Derek’s cheek when he left that night.

–

The next time Derek heard Spencer’s voice from above his balcony, he was almost back to his subdued, distanced self from when they first started speaking. It was over an hour before Spencer let Derek coax him inside. He was shocked when Spencer came to his front door, hair lank and pulled forward to try and cover his eye and cheek that were dark with bruising.

“Spencer, what happened?” He ushered the younger man in, directing him to the couch.

“Nothing. An accident. What were you saying about the fitness test?”

“You’re not interested in fitness tests, what happened?” He tried to bring his hand up to Spencer’s cheek, tilt his head up into the light and assess the damage, but Spencer shied away from him, getting up and heading to the kitchen instead.

“I’m interested in the fitness test.”

“I’m not. Since when are you interested in that?”

“Since you’re the one talking about them.” Derek tried not to feel warm and fuzzy with that comment. Spencer was being genuine, the man was a terrible liar, but he gives away shy truths when he wants to distract.

Derek leaned against the tiny kitchen counter while Spencer turned the kettle on.

“I thought you didn’t have tea at night because of the caffeine.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll sleep tonight anyway, so I may as well enjoy a tea.”

Derek scrutinised him, wordlessly getting a still sealed pack of decaf tea from the cupboard and putting it down beside Spencer’s hand on the counter.

“You know this isn’t truly decaffeinated? It’s just lower in comparison to other teas.”

Derek stayed quiet and watched as Spencer started to squirm under his gaze. He turned then to face Derek, a frown on his face that softened when he saw whatever emotion Derek’s expression wasn’t hiding. Concern, probably.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t use your behavioural training on me.”

“I thought I wouldn’t feel the need to with you.”

Spencer’s lips pressed into a thin line before he turned back to the kettle, mumbling. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

When Derek put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, Spencer jumped, then looked guilty.

“Sorry. I don’t-” He looked at Derek’s hand, which he’d pulled back like he'd been burnt when Spencer flinched at his touch. “I don’t mind.” He wrung his hands, nervous or something like it and unable to look at Derek with that soft red on his cheeks again, marred by bruises. “I don’t mind. The contact, if it’s you. But I’d rather not be surprised by it just now.”

“I get it, pretty boy, and I’m sorry.” He held out his hands, palms up, for Spencer to take. Spencer’s hands shook a little, and he’d forgotten to pour water into his mug now.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, I won’t ask how you got- that.” He jutted his chin to try and gesture at Spencer’s purpled skin while his hands were occupied. “But is what I see all you have, or is there more?”

Spencer bit his lip, watching his own thumb as he rubbed it against Derek’s fingers.

“Spencer, please.”

Spencer shrugged, still unwilling to meet Derek’s eyes.

“It’s not just that. My face. It’s-...” He lifted their joined hands, but didn’t let go of Derek’s to gesture any better. Instead, he pressed their hands to Derek’s chest, just beneath the collar of his shirt, then slowly moved them down and around a little to Derek’s sides. The movement was awkward, but Derek appreciated the tight grip on his hands, and the touch Spencer was initiating, and the information being shared all in the way Spencer was capable of.

“It’s all over, isn’t it pretty boy?”

Spencer hesitated, almost nodding before deciding to try and move on. “I don’t know if I qualify for that. Not normally, or especially now.”

The shy smile was back, and too self-deprecating for Derek. But fighting Spencer on that too strong right now would push him away, so he let some of that anger slide away before he spoke.

“You callin’ me a liar, handsome?”

“No, I think I’m calling you a sweet-talker.”

“But a lying sweet talker, hot stuff?” Spencer pursed his lips as he looked up at Derek, finally, to suppress a smile.

“I’m starting to think you have a biased opinion.”

“I’m starting to think you do too, although on the other side of the spectrum. Why are you so hard on yourself?” 

Spencer squeezed Derek’s hands before letting them go, turning back to pour hot water in his mug. Derek bit back a sigh when Spencer changed the subject again.

“So only two weeks before you’re done at the academy, huh?”

Throughout the night, as Spencer started melting into his more comfortable self the longer he was there, he was less aware of the bruising on his face. It wasn’t until he caught his reflection, or Derek staring, or felt it twinge when he smiled too wide, that he remembered it and grew self-conscious again. That he pushed his hair back in the way of it like if Derek couldn’t see it then Spencer could forget he was injured.

He’d foregone contact lenses and worn his glasses that night, like he did most nights, and Derek thought it might be so it felt like there was another barrier between his bruises and the rest of the world.

Derek wanted to kiss them better, and then all the other hurts Spencer seemed to have. And Spencer sure seemed to have a lot of hurts.

Hurts like how his expression tightened when Derek asked about his childhood, his parents, his friends, or his time at school. How Derek, in the earlier days, made a comment about Spencer missing social cues, and heard a bitter ‘well I can’t pick up on cues if I don’t have anyone to teach them to me’ in reply before Spencer tried to cover it up.

How if he had a particularly bad day, he was so jumpy near Derek that Derek almost wanted to sit on his hands to show he wasn’t going to use them for anything.

How on days when Spencer’s eyes were sunken with a lack of sleep, and the clothes he wore showed how thin he was, and he was so so close to the edge of the ledge on the roof above Derek’s apartment that he thought Spencer just might not care if he fell over the edge.

Like he’d had a lifetime of hurts and still had to face more each day, and Derek only saw little slivers of him and couldn’t learn enough to help him as much as Spencer needed; as much as Derek wanted.

God, he was going to make a terrible profiler.

“Derek?” Spencer looked hesitant, and Derek realised he’d spaced out; probably while staring at Spencer’s bruise again going by how he’d tried to angle his face away awkwardly, unable to fully turn and hide it while looking at Derek at the same time.

Derek couldn’t help it, he just kept on staring. Spencer’s tongue darted out to wet his lips again, and Derek’s eyes tracked the movement. He knew Spencer noticed that, too, by the way his breath seemed to stutter.

Slowly, he shuffled forward on the couch, eyes holding Spencer’s gaze as he did so.

This time, Derek’s name from Spencer’s lips was much quieter, like he was asking for something instead of questioning him.

“Spencer,” The younger man’s eyes dropped down, watching as Derek’s hand came up to his arm; his shoulder. Watched it still as it moved higher, cupping his unbruised cheek. Spencer turned his head, almost pressing a kiss to Derek’s palm as his eyes closed and his bruised cheek was fully on display.

“Spencer, I’ll be gentle. May I?”

Spencer didn’t open his eyes, just hummed in agreement, nosing at Derek’s palm. 

Goosebumps broke over Spencer’s neck when Derek’s breath hit his cheek, and Derek felt him shiver. Careful to avoid the worst of it, Derek skated his lips over Spencer’s cheekbone, pressed them just in front of where his earlobe met the back of his jaw, then trailed them down his jawline.

Spencer tipped his head, allowing easier access as Derek watched Spencer’s fingers grip the couch cushion beneath him. Unsure if it was entirely due to sensation or something going on in his mind, Derek didn’t push further. Using his hand on Spencer’s cheek, he turned the man’s head to nudge his nose to Spencer’s.

“This is alright?”

In lieu of an answer, slowly, Spencer lifted his chin and kissed Derek on the lips. Derek’s chest swelled and he smiled into it, his other hand coming up to Spencer’s side.

They shuffled closer to each other, to be able to press themselves into each other more comfortably. Spencer’s mouth opened beneath Derek’s lips, and he could taste that terrible decaf tea and honey, and the cashews Spencer liked to snack on while reading.

He wondered what Spencer would think he tasted like, the cheap vending machine snacks and the god awful protein water he’d bought without realising it was terrible.

Suddenly, he had the urge to brush his teeth. He made to pull away, but Spencer’s fingers curled in his shirt and his resolve weakened.

Their hands were slowly moving over each other, everything was moving so slowly. Sweetly, like they were learning each other and had all the time in the world. Derek’s fingers found the hem of Spencer’s shirt, and he tugged the man’s lower lip between his teeth as his fingers slipped under the fabric and brushed against Spencer’s skin.

God it was soft, but it felt thin, too. He became scared of hurting Spencer, especially when remembering he had some other injuries too. So he kept his touch light, fingers probably tickling as they travelled further up Spencer’s side as Spencer laughed into the kiss.

Spencer tugged at Derek’s collar, then his fingers slipped around to cup the back of Derek’s neck. Caught up in being able to touch, they quickly moved back down, trailing over his shoulder and down his chest, then Spencer’s hands lingered there. They would have moved further down, Derek thinks, with his hands now pushing Spencer’s shirt up, if it weren’t for his sister coming home.

They didn’t realise until they heard her laugh, surprised.

“Oh, Sorry! I didn’t text ahead, my phone died. Go about your business!” She laughed again, more of a giggle, then her bedroom door clicked shut. Spencer was rigid beneath him - when had he pressed Spencer into the couch beneath him?

‘Sorry, Spence, I didn’t-”

Spencer pushed him up and off, the heat flushing his face more than the usual shyness or what Derek might expect from making out on a couch could bring about. More than embarrassment of being caught, even. He scrambled to get up and right his clothes, walking to the door and scooping up his bag on the way.

“Spencer, wait! Where are you going?” He didn’t want to pull Spencer back by catching his arm, knowing the man wouldn’t react well. His eyes seemed watery and Derek was lost.

And he stayed lost, when, after three weeks, Spencer hadn’t come back. His texts went unanswered and when he called the number was disconnected.

And he kept right on being lost when Spencer didn’t come back to visit him before he had to move out.

–--- 2005

Derek scowled at the scene before them. 

“You’re saying someone was turning people into books?”

The local officer walking them through the scene nodded, nose wrinkled but face otherwise resigned.

“Yup. See, we had a couple people go missing here and there. Transients, runaways, you know the type. And we’d thought they went missing by choice. Sure, we looked,” not enough, Derek thought. “But we never thought they’d end up. Well. As books.”

“As books.” Derek’s skin crawled.

Aside from a specific wrinkle in his brow, Hotch didn’t even look perturbed. “These materials, would they be specialised? Potentially unique or traceable?”

“The tanning stuff? Not as far as we can tell. Out here, we got people doing this the normal way, tanning hides and such.  A lot of leather workers out here. As far as we can tell, it’s basically all the same stuff.”

Hotch looked back at Gideon who shrugged and looked at Derek. “He’ll take a breather now that we found his workshop; he’ll need time to set himself up again. Derek, you’re going to a library to speak to someone about human skin book binding.”

Derek and Elle looked at each other before Derek held his hands out, gesturing broadly.

“We just have someone who knows about human skin being made into books?”

Elle smirked at him. “And you get to visit them. How nice.”

Derek wasn’t thrilled about it, and the feeling that his skin was crawling and unclean hadn’t left since they found the workshop their unsub was using. It reeked in both usual and unexpected ways, and the forensic investigator on scene and all too happily told him that urine could be used in the tanning process.

Perhaps a clean, quiet, library would help in easing his mind, but the subject matter wouldn’t. Derek flashed his badge at the desk, and the librarian assistant he’d found nodded without him needing to explain.

“Agent Gideon called ahead, I’ll lead you through to the doctor now. The books were already here, we’ve held them for ages, but the doctor only arrived recently. Good timing, too, what with this horribleness happening.” She chattered as she led him through shelves, picking up carelessly placed books as she went and piling them up on her other arm.

“Wait, the doctor showed up for the books after the murders?” Derek frowned; Gideon hadn’t called that far ahead, had he?

“Yes, though it’s not his first time here. He’s such a joy to have.” She looked at Derek, then laughed. “You don’t think he did it, do you?”

Derek shrugged, and she shook her head. Then, they stopped outside a room labelled ‘staff only’, and she knocked before pushing the door open.

Derek patted down his pockets for his notepad and pen, then stopped short when he looked up.

The assistant kept talking.

“So this is the doctor Spencer Reid, the veritable specialist on these books. Our Margaret, who usually cares for these books and who we’d recommend you to normally for this, she’s been unwell. But we’re lucky to have Dr. Reid here,” After that, she looked between the two, and her smile slipped into confusion.

“Do you two know each other?”

Derek swallowed, and Spencer barely moved.

“Well, I’ll just leave you two to it, then.” She cast a hesitant glance at Spencer, who nodded to her, and she seemed to take that as a sign it was safe for her to leave them alone.

“Spencer?”

[i-lovemgg]

Her Safe Space, Spencer Reid x Sick Emethophobic Female Reader

(Emethophobia - an intense fear of witnessing/hearing other people vomit and/or vomiting yourself)

This is a story in which Spencer comforts reader while she is on the verge of vomiting and panicking over it (could also be a good fic for anyone feeling sick and wanting some Spencer comfort)

🚑 trigger warnings: emethophobia, mention of panic attacks, mention of vomiting, subtle sexual mention

A/N: Where did this phobia come from? I do not know-- I've had it for as long as I can remember. I cope with everything through creation. So here is how I'd imagine Spencer would comfort me. My brain slowed down enough today to allow me to pop this one out. I hope you enjoy, darlings. I hope Spencer helps you through your traumas as much as he does mine. May you all receive blessings from the universe in the near future. See you again soon.

Spencer's POV

She has a lot of needs. They're not burdens, nor will they ever be.

She has been feeling sick all day today,  and instead of allowing me to comfort her, she has locked herself in the bathroom for the past six hours.

If it was a simple headache, she would be curled up in my arms, her pretty head on my chest as I ran my fingers through her hair as delicately and  soothingly as I could.

But when her stomach hurts, when she feels she is on the verge of vomiting, she will isolate herself, the idea of someone witnessing her vomiting so overwhelming she won't even let me near her.

Not even me. And she trusts me with everything. 

It breaks my heart.

Why won't she let me just rub her back and tell her everything is alright, that she is safe and cared for? She does after a hard day at work or an intense love making session that ends in her being a blubber of tears.

Something I have always adored about her is her willingness to be so open about her emotions and desires.  Blunt words often fall off her tongue but one quality no one can deny about her is her honesty. What you see is what you get from her. If she needs more from me in terms of affection, she has always let me know. When she needs me to hold her hand and offer a sympathetic ear when she is in distress, she lets me know. She has always been so clear on how to best take care of her and I have always steadfastly complied.

Because I am putty in her hands.

I would bow at her feet if she asked me to.

I know no human being can save another but why won't she just let me hold her?

I take a deep breath.  I remind myself I could never understand,  as I am not the one with the condition.  I'm sure she wishes she could allow me to be there for her in these moments as strongly as I have a desire to be there for her in them.

I sit near the outside of the bathroom door, twiddling my thumbs, hoping against all hope she will let me in.

She has described it to me before: When she feels it coming,  for just a single split second she wishes she would die-- because anything else in the world would be preferred over allowing herself to vomit.

It's barely a whisper when I hear it.

"Spence?"

Her sweet voice, so fragile.

She needs me.

My stomach churns in anticipation of her allowing me in as I mutter back just as gently, "Yes, love?"

I try to come across as her calm in the storm with the way I convey my words-- but deep down inside I feel such an eagerness to comfort her it is making me go insane in a way I am certain is obvious from the tone of my voice.

I hope to God it doesn't show somehow.

"Need you..."

As soon as the words leave her lips, I am off the floor and twisting the doorknob.

With a sigh of relief, I realize she had mustered the strength to unlock the door.

I kneel down next to her by the toilet, the palm of my hand reaching under her shirt in search of her back.

"It's ok, Sweetheart. Once you let it out, you'll feel so much better."

------- An Hour Later

After she relieved her stomach of its poisonous contents, I ran her a hot bath.

A soothing bath is one of the only things that calms her down following a panic attack.

I run the palm of my hand over her arm, trying to soothe each part of her body that had been shaking with fear as I encouraged her to allow herself to release all the toxins inside of her.

"I'm proud of you," I whisper as I place a kiss on her shoulder.

"It always feels so much better after it's over," she whispers, letting out a content sigh at the feeling of my lips on her skin.

[wrenreid]

Conflict of Interest

mature content in this story

Chapter Seventeen: Distance Between

Being back home releases numerous contradictory emotions within you. You love getting to see your older brothers and father again, but being in the house your mother left when you were younger makes you eager for the holidays to be over with.

Your mother sent a Christmas card with a family picture on the front. Your little half sisters are getting much older and bigger. It's strange and difficult to think about your mom raising other kids when she clearly didn't like the way she brought up you and your brothers. You've been told not to hold her accountable for the divorce or for leaving, but you can't abide those orders. You just can't.

Your dad is happy to have you home, he finds a way to make it known he does not like having you across the country in any conversation he can.

"You have your sons," you remind him while the two of you put up the dishes. "They're no less special than I am."

"Maybe not, but they are not my little girl. And their company isn't as pleasant," he chuckles softly.

"Not that I don't agree with you," you smile, "But you'll have to make do with those three knuckle heads."

"For how much longer?" Your father frowns.

"At least until I graduate. But I do want to transfer to the Los Angeles department if possible once I'm in the field."

His features brighten. "That would make me very happy."

"Me too," you say with a soft smile. "I would be able to drive the few hours as often as possible to come see you and the guys."

The unit of the FBI you want to work in is still unclear to you. There's so many amazing options. However, you've decided for at least the first few years, you'll take what you can get. Experience and determination will eventually get you where you want to be.

The holidays pass soon enough, and you enjoy spending quality time with your family for the first time in a while.

"How is training going?" Your eldest brother asks at family dinner the night before New Year's Eve. "I read the FBI's Dr. Reid is teaching a class."

You nearly choke on your mashed potatoes at the mention of Spencer's name. After swallowing, you nod. "Yeah. He teaches the main behavior analysis class."

"I looked him up. He's hot," Quinton's fiancé says with a grin and a subtle, playful wink toward you.

As much as you adore her, a part of you wants to punch Riley's face for making your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink. "I suppose he's not too bad to look at," you shrug. Good thing your brothers don't care too much to talk about your love life, or technically lack there of as they believe it.

You're glad the dinner conversation topic is quickly changed because you do not want to discuss Spencer. Even if he is a constant topic swirling in your mind these days. Being away from him the past nearly two weeks has been making you think of him excessively. You thought being apart would make you lose the feelings that have been developing within you. But the distance between you two has made your chest ache at the thought of him.

Being an expert- almost expert- on human behavior, you believed you could stop the feelings from flooding your being: the feelings of complete adoration and affection for Spencer Reid that is, you refuse to say that overused four letter word. Unfortunately, you know it's impossible. Humans cannot simply stop emotions on command. It takes time. Apparently more than two weeks.

You know what you must do. Pretend pretend pretend. You'll ignore the aching feelings you have for Spencer. You'll pretend you don't feel them no matter how much stronger they may get.

The feelings seemed to have came out of nowhere, but you know that isn't the case. The two of you have spent a great deal of time together. Your feelings of admiration must've morphed and grew with each touch, each smile, each simple gesture of kindness.

You know it would be smart to stop the relationship the two of you have. It'll just make you want him more, and he doesn't see you like that. You made an agreement months ago. The two of you are purely physical and purely friends, if you could call yourselves that. Humans are selfish, though, and you can't let go of him so quickly. Even if you don't have him the way you want, you still have him in some way. That's enough for now. Eventually, you'll move on and find someone else. Or he will. Getting heart broken will be the best way to move on.

After dinner, you convince Caleb and Justin to do the dishes instead of you then head up to the shower. You step in once your clothes are all stripped off and put into the laundry hamper.

The water hits your skin, it's a little too hot, but you don't mind enough to change the temp. Your hair gets soaked, feeling heavier, before you shampoo and conditioner it.

You get along with the rest of your shower routine and your mind flashes back to the many scenarios you've imagined while showering at the academy. Scenarios of Spencer Reid. You hadn't had any unspeakable shower thoughts of him since before the two of you started sleeping together. Now, without permission, images of the two of you together- memories- swirl around in your mind. His hands are on your body, and you can almost physically feel it.

Without even realizing you're doing it, your hands roam your abdomen and up to your chest. You trace your finger tips over your breasts and shoulders, seeing an image of Spencer's mouth on them as you lay there moaning. You run your hands down to your stomach again, breath quickening due to the realisticness of your imagination. You trail your middle finger and pointer finger tips down to your core, head leaning back into the shower wall.

Before you can really get into it, there's banging on the bathroom door. "Y/n, I have to piss, hurry up!" Justin's voice yells, knocking you out of your Spencer- filled pleasure daze.

Your heart slams against your chest, cheeks burning in embarrassment. I'm coming, dammit! You almost yell back, but that would've caused you to die of further embarrassment since there's another meaning of the word. You sigh and call, "Go to the other bathroom!"

You hear him groan, but he leaves. You decide to get out of the shower anyway, not wanting to continue the scene that just happened in the shower anymore.

After wrapping a towel around your body and another in your hair, you go into your childhood bedroom and plop on the bed. You stare up at the ceiling and curse your father for allowing 12 year old you to paint the walls an eye-soring teal color.

You lie there in just a towel for a while, too consumed with your thoughts of Spencer to get up and change.

Your phone chimes, alerting you that you’ve got a text message. You bring your phone to your face and see his name on your screen.

‘Hey! You excited for New Year’s?’

You can’t bring yourself to respond, even though your heart is aching and your mind eager to talk to him.

chapter eighteen

tags: @reidsmilf @reidslovely @awhoreforspencerreid @sexualityisajoke @nomajdetective @kenreadsfanfics @assemblemotherfuckers @calicocatty @reidscake @hotchandspencearedilfs @kodiakwhiskey @rory-cakes @kbakery @reidsprettygirl <3

[the-bau-quinjet]

Secret's Out

Summary: Request! Reid and Y/N are secretly dating, but their business doesn't stay their business for long.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence

Word Count: 2974

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :)

Sorry this took forever! It took me a while to think of case details that I liked and then I kept rewriting parts. I think I'm finally happy with it though!

Masterlist

"Spencer!" You pushed him away. "The doors could open at any moment! How are we supposed to keep this a secret if Morgan walks in on us kissing in the elevator?" You raised a brow at him.

"On average, elevators travel at a speed of 200 ft/min or about 4 seconds per floor. Being on the fifth floor means we have about 20 seconds to ourselves." He smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, until someone surprises us on floor 3." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the doors once they opened.

"I can't help it. I'm just... really happy with you." He whispered softly.

"I'm really happy too." You smiled at him. You were about to lean in when the elevator doors opened once again to reveal JJ and Emily.

"Hey guys, ready for another case?" Emily glanced between you suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask any prying questions.

"Yep, let's go!" You turned quickly, walking into the round table room without so much as a glance back at the three agents by the elevator.

"What's with her?" JJ questioned.

"Said she didn't sleep well last night. Must be all the caffeine." He held his own cup off coffee up in solidarity before also walking to the round table room.

"Alright, we've got 3 dead in Billings, Montana. All three were law enforcement, and all three were found this morning around the city." You listened as Penelope introduced the details of the case.

"Could be someone who feels the police didn't do a good enough job protecting a loved one?" You threw out a theory.

"Or someone who feels wronged by the criminal justice system as a whole." Rossi added on.

"Either way, they likely won't stop until we catch them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch rose from his seat as he spoke, wasting no time in preparing for take off.

You all dispersed briefly to grab your go bags, meeting back at the SUVs to head to the jet.

Once boarded, it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again.

"When we land, L/N go to the morgue. Dave, Prentiss take the first and second crime scenes, they're only a mile apart. Morgan and Reid, check out the third scene. I'll head to the precinct with JJ."

With Hotch's instructions set, you took what little time you had left on the flight to go over the causes of death.

-

"Anything stand out to you on the bodies?" You asked the ME after going over the blunt force trauma and bullet wounds.

"There's tape residue and bruising on the wrists and ankles. Based on the state of bruising, they were likely held for about 3 days before they were killed."

"Thank you for your help." You shook hands, pulling out your phone to call Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, they were held for days before they were killed. How did nobody notice they were missing?" There was nothing in the reports that indicated the victims were reported missing prior to being found.

"We just found the same pattern. They all used vacation days for various reasons in the days leading up to their deaths. Meet us back at the precinct and Reid can explain the whole pattern."

"Okay, I'm leaving now." You hung up just as you reached the SUV. Throughout the drive, you couldn't stop thinking that something wasn't adding up.

The victims were taken in the same day. It didn't make sense for the unsub not to escalate. So, why aren't any officers unaccounted for?

Suddenly, a truck crashed into your SUV, sending you flying off the road. A figure dressed in black opened the door and dragged you from the car.

"Agent L/N, it's so good to see you again." A male voice spoke, but you couldn't place it.

He hit you over the head with a handgun before dragging you to his own vehicle.

-

"Where's L/N?" Emily questioned when her and Rossi returned from the second dumpsite.

"On her way back from the ME." Hotch answered. "Did you find anything useful?"

"They truly are dumpsites. Both bodies were found by dumpsters, sending a pretty clear message." Dave replied.

"Same for the third site." Derek added on.

"All three victims were single and took time off leading up to their death. Nobody would've notice that they were missing until it was too late." Reid supplied the final bit of information gathered.

Hotch's phone rang before anyone else could comment. The frantic sound of Garcia's nails clicking against her keyboard echoed through the phone. She was talking before anyone could greet her.

"You need to see this, check your tablets."

Confused glances were exchanged as everyone, barring Reid, opened their tablets. Reid glanced over Morgan's shoulder to observe as well.

A seemingly live video that Garcia received a link to was streaming to the tablets.

A single woman sitting in a chair could be seen in the frame. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick, gray tape and a bag was over her head.

"Garcia, what is this?" Hotch asked almost immediately.

"I was emailed the link just now. It's not streaming anywhere else online." Her reply came quickly, the sound of typing still filling in the silence.

"Can you trace it?" Rossi questioned.

"I'm trying, but it's being routed through multiple proxy servers."

"Did the email say anything?" Emily chimed in.

"No, it was just the link- Wait. I just got another email." She paused as the new email loaded. "It's addressed to Reid."

Every set of eyes in the room turned to Reid.

"What does it say?" He felt the nerves beginning to grow waiting for Garcia to read the words aloud.

"Dr. Reid,

I hope you remember me. What am I saying, of course you do. I've got something of yours that you might want back. You see Dr. Reid, you and your team ruined me. My family, my career, all of it, just gone. I thought I'd return the favor. A person's phone can be so informative. Tell me, does your team know about your girlfriend? I've so enjoyed getting reacquainted with her.

Happy hunting."

Spencer's face went white as he looked at Morgan's tablet again. His thoughts were racing. How did he not recognize you before? Even with the bag over your head, he should've known it was you.

"It's her." His words were barely a whisper.

"This is your girlfriend?" Morgan gestured to the screen again. Spencer could only nod in reply, his mind unable to focus on anything except you.

"Reid, listen to me. You've got to tell us everything you know about her. We'll have to split up. You can go back to Quantico with Emily and Morgan, the rest of us will stay here to work on our current case." Hotch was already devising a strategy to work both cases.

"There's no need." His words made sense to him, but sounded cryptic to the rest of the team.

"Kid, of course there is. We'll help you get her back." Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively shocking him back to the present situation.

"There's no need to split up because she's here. She's in Montana." Before he could continue, everyone was asking questions.

"Give me a phone number and I'll get you a location." Garcia was already typing away again.

"Are you sure she's here?" JJ's brows furrowed. She did her best to hide the hurt of her best friend hiding his girlfriend from her, again.

"Why would she be here?" Rossi added.

"How did she get here? Maybe we can track the transportation and figure out means of abduction." Emily was the only one thinking about the case.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Spencer blurted out the truth.

"It's Y/N."

He was met with silence in the room as everyone absorbed the information.

Garcia caught up first, a sudden gasp sounding through the phone.

"So, then that's Y/N... in the video..." Her voice wavered.

As if a switch was flipped, the team was back on the case.

"Garcia, get me a list of anyone who would have a grievance with the team." Hotch ordered.

"Go through anyone who was falsely accused. Start with cases in or around Montana. He would want to keep this close to home." Rossi specified.

"We've only had one case in Montana since Y/N joined the team." Reid supplied the knowledge as it came to him. "A name, I need a name." He muttered to himself, pulling his hair as he roughly ran his hands through it and over his face. "Garcia, look into Jameson Braddock."

"Got it." She immediately began a background check, searching through case files and news articles for additional information. "i'll get back to you with locations." With that, she hung up.

"Fill us in, kid. Who is Jameson Braddock." Morgan lead Reid to a chair, gently easing him into it.

"Our last case in Montana, Emily and I went to interview a witness." Emily nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her.

"He wasn't very forthcoming, and then he tried to run." She added on.

"Exactly, except he didn't make it very fair. We arrested him, but it turned out he was only guilty of selling alcohol to minors. When word of his arrest got out, the whole town thought it was for the serial rapes and murders we were investigating even though it was never confirmed."

"By the time we corrected the media, it was too late." JJ supplied, also remembering the man.

"So, he killed three officers just to draw us out back out here?" Morgan refocused the conversation on the current case.

"It looks that way now. The media knew we were coming, so he must have as well." Emily theororized. "If he followed us from the airport, he would've seen Y/N leave by herself."

"He likely didn't know about your relationship until he abducted her and went through her phone." Hotch paced the room.

"He's flaunting his power over us." Rossi chimed in just as Hotch's phone rang again.

"Garcia, what've you got?"

"Three addresses in Billings, Montana. Jameson Braddock has been on a downward spiral since your last trip there. His entire life fell apart, like he said. Divorced, his wife moved to Nebraska with their two kids. He lost his job at the high school, and was evicted from his house when he could no longer pay the bills." She listed the information quickly.

"He has ties to three addresses. Nobody has moved into his previous house, so it's vacant. He's got a small apartment in the northern part of the city which he pays for through working odd hours at Taco Bell. Finally, he briefly worked security at a now abandoned warehouse."

"An apartment wouldn't be enough space to hold her without the chance of someone hearing. She's not there." Rossi eliminated the location as an option.

"We'll split up to cover the warehouse and the house-" Hotch began, but Reid cut him off.

"No, we shouldn't split up. She's got to be at the house. The warehouse has no connection to his previous life. He wants revenge for our perceived wrongdoing, he wouldn't make his last stand at a new location." Reid was already putting on a bullet proof vest. Despite how his mind was racing, he refused to show how afraid he was.

"You're sure?" Morgan asked, on the fence about committing to one location.

"Absolutely." With that, Reid was out the door heading for the SUVs.

-

"Rossi, Emily head around back. I'll take the front with Reid. JJ and Morgan, the side door." Hotch instructed the team to split up upon arrival at the house.

Reid wasted no time in approaching the house. He was confident you were inside, but he didn't know what was happening to you.

The main floor was cleared quickly. Again, the team split up to cover the upper level and the basement.

Knowing you were likely downstairs, Reid immediately started that direction, JJ and Hotch following him.

It wasn't hard for him to find you. You were still tied to the chair in the middle of the room, bag over your head.

Before anyone could stop him, Reid lowered his gun and ran to you. He gently maneuvered the bag off your head, stopping his movements only when he felt something press into his back.

"Dr. Reid. So kind of you to join us." Braddock spoke maniacally, pressing the gun against Reid's head.

"Drop your weapon." Hotch commanded, but the man only cackled in response.

'Y/N... Y/N." Reid gently shook you in an attempt to wake you up.

"She can't hear you." Braddock singsonged.

"What did you do?" Reid tried to turn to him only to feel the gun press further into his head.

"Like I said in my email, you people ruined my life. They took everything from me, so I thought I'd try to return the favor." During his short speech, Braddock shifted just enough for JJ to get a clean shot.

He fell to the ground, gun clattering across the floor.

Reid moved quickly to remove the tape binding you to the chair while Hotch called for a medic in the basement.

The entire team watched as you were wheeled into the ambulance, still unconscious, none more scared than Spencer.

-

"She's going to be fine, Spence." JJ tried to reassure him, nonetheless his pacing continued.

"You don't know that. We don't even know what he did to her." He had one hand anxiously running through his hair, the other pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Just then, a doctor emerged from behind closed doors.

"F/N L/N." She called into the waiting room, slightly taken aback when the group of agents rushed to her.

"It was touch and go for a while, but she got here just in time." It was visible to even the least qualified profiler how relieved the team felt. Their previously tense shoulders relaxed, frowns turned to small smiles, wide eyes and raised brows pinched together with joy.

"What happened?" Emily posed the question everyone was thinking.

"In short, she was drugged. It's not clear what exactly was used, but it was likely a mix of drugs that attempted to stop her heart."

"Can we see her?" Morgan spoke next, cautiously eyeing Reid.

"You may, follow me." The doctor lead them through a series of hallways to your room. "She should be waking up soon."

With that the doctor left, allowing the team to file into the room. You looked strangely peaceful for someone who almost died.

"So..." JJ glanced between you and Spencer. "Girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes went wide. Instinctively, he turned to you for help, but you were still asleep. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.

"Relax, kid." Morgan grinned. "We're happy as long as you two are happy."

Spencer smiled gratefully, looking at you with an adoring gaze. "We are happy."

"How long?' Emily gestured to your joined hands. Just before Spencer could answer, you groaned.

"I want to hear your guesses first." Your voice was raspy, but there was a clear smile on your face. "Also, what happened?"

The quickly explained the email Garcia received and the events that followed.

"Now that that's cleared up, do tell us how long you think we've been together. I know you've got a bet going." You narrowed your eyes, playfully glaring at each team member.

"4 months." Hotch begrudgingly admitted. JJ followed with 3 months, Derek and Rossi both betting 10 weeks, and Emily going with 6 weeks.

"Ha, you're all wrong." You smiled triumphantly, leaning closer to Spencer.

"Wait, we haven't heard from Garcia." Derek smirked as he rung her on speaker phone.

"Oh, my beautiful crime fighters. Y/N, are you okay?" Your smile widened at the concern in her voice.

"I am indeed, but I have a very important question for you." You glanced as Spencer briefly before continuing. "How long do you think Spence and I have been together?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Her excitement caught everyone but you off guard. "7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days."

Spencer's jaw dropped as he stuttered out, "that's exactly right..."

"How'd you figure it out?" The group of profilers wore matching expressions of surprise as Penelope explained.

"Well, we had just finished testifying in the Bigelow trial. The whole team went out for drinks, and I could just see it in Y/N's eyes the next day that something wonderful happened. At first I just thought that she got some, but then I saw her and the good doctor in the kitchen getting coffee and I knew." Penelope's voice held a mixture of smugness and pure excitement.

"Babygirl, you didn't tell me?" Derek sounded genuinely offended.

"Y/N asked me not to." Even though you couldn't see her, you knew she punctuated the statement with a shrug.

"You knew, she knew?" Spencer turned to you in shock.

You nodded. "I could see it on her face the second I walked out of the kitchen. But she promised not to tell, so I didn't either."

"The two of you, thick as thieves." Rossi lamented.

"I love you so much." Spencer whispered into your ear as he pulled you in for a hug.

"I love you too." You whispered right back.

"Honestly, I'm glad the secret's out." You smiled at Spencer before looking at the rest of the team. "Although, I wish I didn't have to be kidnapped to tell you."

You spent a few more hours in the hospital before being cleared to go back to the hotel.

The next morning, you smiled to yourself as you were finally able to cuddle with Spencer during the flight home.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

A Lick of Paint

Summary: Spencer has no idea his best friend is harboring a secret talent

A/N: This was is one-shot request from a little while ago! I hope you guys enjoy it 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Artist!Reader)

Category: Fluff & Smut

Warnings/Includes: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, riding, paint is involved (but it doesn’t go anywhere it shouldn’t), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 3.6k

Request: “Would u do one where it’s a fem!reader x spencer (smut or fluff what ever feels right) where they’re best friends and the reader is very private and one day spencer comes over to her apartment and sees that she’s a really talented painter/drawer/artist ? Thank u!!”

Masterlist

— —

He didn’t have a crush on her. No way. She was just his best friend, nothing more. Just his best friend who he thought about all the time, his best friend who he knew everything about, who he couldn't wait until tomorrow to see.

They got in from their latest case at half past midnight, he was a night owl, and he knew she was too, so why would she mind him showing up uninvited? He hadn’t seen her in 15 days and he probably could wait one more, but he really didn't want to.

Showing up at her door after 1am with a bottle of wine and some snacks he took a minute to run his fingers through his hair and straighten out his shirt before he knocked on the door. He could hear a rustling from the other side, and he could see the light shifting about beneath the door frame. So she was home, and she was awake, and he was trying to suppress his eager little smile.

“You can’t keep calling over this late Mrs. Warner! I don’t have any of your mail—Spencer!” she says it in a little yelp as she pulls the door completely open. And she's standing in front of him in nothing but an oversized button up shirt, her hair’s all messy around her head and there’s a little pencil tucked behind her ear.

He’s not really sure what’s going on but he’s sure that he likes it.

“Just me” he pulls his lips into a small smile and gives a tiny little wave with his free hand, shaking the bottle of wine in his other. “I hope I’m not intruding, we just got in earlier than I thought we would and I figured you’d still be up”

As he’s explaining she’s shutting the door slightly again, hiding her body behind it just a little. And even if he wasn’t a profiler he’d know she was uncomfortable, so he starts to shake his head.

“You know what, don’t worry about it! I can come back another time— or I can— I can give you some space if you need it? This was a stupid idea anyway, I should go— I’m gonna go!” he knows he sounds stupid, he’s a rambling mess but before he can properly retreat she’s swinging the door open fully again, reaching out for him and just grabbing him by the strap of his satchel.

“No Spencer wait! I’m happy to see you, I really am” she pulls him to the doorway, letting him step inside. “It’s just— messy? And you haven’t seen my apartment like this before” she’s rushing it out once he gets inside, placing her hands on his shoulders to try and spin him around before he can catch a glimpse of the state of her living room.

“Just gimme a second to tidy—”

“Do you— are you an artist?” he’s not even listening to her anymore, he’s completely fixed on the pages and sketchbooks all scattered around her living room. The sofa is pulled back to create space for the huge canvas that’s spread out all over the floor. Paints and brushes all lined up next to it.

“No!” she shakes her head, “Well not really, I just, I draw sometimes, and paint I guess? But it’s just for me” she’s still got her hands on his shoulders, trying to turn him around in spite of the fact that he’s already seen everything she was trying to hide. Or had managed to keep hidden until now.

“You never told me?” he just looks confused now more than anything, but his eyes are still blown wide as he starts to walk towards the area of the room covered in her materials.

“It’s really nothing Spencer, I didn’t want to tell you, because then you’d want to see, and then I wouldn’t want to show you, or I would show you, and then you’d hate it, and you’d just tell me you liked it to be nice, and I can tell when you’re lying Spencer, and I couldn’t handle that. So yeah, I didn’t tell you. But I haven't told anyone.” she’s not looking at him when she speaks anymore, her hands are just wrapped tight around her body protectively. This felt like she was so entirely exposed.

She had only kept two secrets from him all these years. Her art. And her unending infatuation for him. How could she not let him in when he showed up at her front door so excited, and looking so cute in his little sweater with his messy curls.

“Hey” he reaches out, placing a gentle hand on her forearm, coaxing her to unwrap them. So they fall to her sides and she feels even more exposed now. “If you want me to go, I’ll go. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. If you want me to stand out in the hall while you hide all of this stuff, and then we pretend none of this happened, I’ll get comfy out there right now. But I just need you to know that I love you very much, and I’d support anything you ever choose to do. And I know what I want shouldn't factor in, but for what it’s worth, I would like to see some of your work— It doesn't have to be now! But just, if you ever wanted to show me anything, I’d love to see it.”

She can feel how earnest the words are, and she knew he loved her, but it was always so nice to hear it out loud, coming from those gorgeous pink lips. She wants to speak but the words feel like they’re almost caught in her throat when she looks up at him, she has to force them out.

“I’ll show you” she breathes, “I want to show you”

His eyebrows shoot up as she speaks, “I didn't mean— you don’t have to!” he rushes out as she goes to fetch one of her sketchbooks from the ground, handing it to him.

“I want to, honestly. If someones going to see this stuff, I want it to be you” once the sketchbook’s in his grip and out of her hands completely she walks away from him, going to sit on the ground next to the canvas. Right where she’d been sitting when he knocked on the door earlier.

Neither of them say a word while he goes through it page by page. It doesn't occur to her that she’s not sure which one she handed him until she can hear footsteps approaching her from behind.

When he sits down beside her he’s got the sketchbook open to a double spread and she recognizes it instantly.

“Are these drawings of me?” he asks, and it’s almost a whisper, like he doesn’t want to scare her. But she nods.

“Um, yeah. There’s actually a bunch of you in these sketchbooks. Your bone structure is just— I don't know— it’s nice to look at” his lips curve up in a small smile at that.

“You think I’m nice to look at?” he teases and she rolls her eyes,

“From an artistic perspective, you're interesting” she tries to walk it back.

“So now I’m just interesting?” he asks, a little smug now that he can tell she’s nervous.

“That’s not what I said!” he starts to chuckle then, closing the notebook and placing it down on the ground behind him.

“Relax, I’m messing with you, and for what it’s worth I think you’re nice to look at too. From any perspective” those few words make her forget where she is completely, they make her feel an entirely different kind of worry than the one she’d been experiencing earlier.

“And I love your work. You said you could tell when I was lying, am I lying?” he’s looking straight into her eyes as he speaks, and she can feel the way her heart is palpitating.

“No, you’re, uh, you're telling the truth” she shakes her head, but his eyes stay focused on her.

“What’s going on this canvas then?” he asks with a smile, and she breaks the eye contact so she can grab another one of her notebooks to show him some of the thumbnails she’d drawn for it.

“This is the idea, I think I need to practice it on something smaller though, just to get a feel for it” she explains as she points to the different shapes on the page, but then Spencer gets an idea.

“Use me” he says, and she just looks at him perplexed, “You said I was interesting, use me as your canvas?” he pulls off his cardigan as he speaks, rolling up his shirt sleeves to expose his bare arms.

“Spencer, I meant like, a smaller sheet or something, not your arm!” she’s laughing it off, mostly because being in close contact like that with him would probably break her.

“Well use my back then” he says it like it’s obvious, taking off his tie, then unbuttoning his shirt from the top, getting to the third button before she reaches out to stop him.

“You don’t have to do that” she says it with a laugh, like her heart’s not beating out of her chest from the little glimpse of bare skin she can see through the open part of his shirt.

He looks straight into her eyes as he speaks, “I want to.” the words settle in the air between them and they come to a silent agreement. Her hands falling from his so that he can undo the rest of his buttons, shrugging out of his shirt so that she can see his bare torso.

He sits like that for a second, awaiting instructions.

“Um, you should lie down on your front” she says, gesturing to the canvas laid out on the ground, “Wait!” she calls out as he moves to lie down, “You should probably take off your trousers? I don’t wanna get paint on them or anything”

It’s the truth really, but it still feels silly to say out loud. Luckily he just laughs a little and takes them off, but the little clinking sound his belt makes does something to her breathing.

By the time he’s laying face down on the canvas, his head resting on his folded arms, she’s got her materials all lined up next to her. She kneels down beside him, but as she's about to start it occurs to her that this is the complete wrong angle to start the piece. And she knows where she needs to sit, but she’s got no idea how to ask.

“Spencer— I can’t really— this angle is a bit, um…” she stutters

“Maybe you should sit on me?” he asks, uncharacteristically calm, maybe it was the way her voice kept going up an octave, or how fast her heart had been beating almost this entire time, but something made him realize that he wasn’t the nervous one here for maybe the first time since he’d known her.

“You would— You don't mind?” she asks before even moving, and he smiles to himself.

“How could I?”

With that she climbs in top of him, resting a leg either side of his hips. She’s painfully aware that the only thing separating them now is the thin layer of each of their underwear. But she pushes the thought aside as she gets to work.

Spencer’s quiet and well behaved for most of it, only remarking every now and again when the paint was cold against his skin, or when he had to move just a little. All in all she’s finished within an hour.

“Are you finished?” he asks, his eyes closed, relaxing beneath her as she worked. There was something almost therapeutic about the feeling of the brushstrokes against his skin. But he hadn’t felt one for 3 whole minutes now.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just admiring it” she says, “I’ll take a picture for you” she reaches for her phone, snapping a quick photo. Then she sits up off of him and he misses the weight of her on top of him instantly.

When he sits up she sits down opposite him, handing over the phone so that he can take a look at the painting that adorned his back. He almost couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. The delicate lines, the striking colors, the perfect hands that had painted it.

“This is— I don’t even have the words” he says it in a hushed whisper, “I love it so much” she knows he’s telling the truth again, his eyes don't even look up from the screen to see her reaction, they’re still completely transfixed on the photo. When he does look up he’s smiling.

“Am I telling the truth?” he asks and she nods, but something about her nervous little expression, coupled with her sky-rocketing heart rate gives him the confidence he’s needed for years.

“What if I told that I’ve liked you for a very long time? Would I be telling the truth about that?” his smile is gone, instead it’s replaced with half-lidded eyes and softly parted lips.

For a second she’s not even sure if this is really happening, her eyes trail along his bare torso, taking in the tiny bits of paint that made it down his sides. When her eyes come back up to look in his own, still trained on her she can’t even speak, instead she’s lunging at him, pulling him in by the back of the neck and crashing their lips together.

She parts hers after a moment, allowing Spencer to slip his tongue inside, tangling with her own as his hands fly out to grab her by the waist, pulling her into his lap. When they break apart their chests are heaving, breathing ragged, staring straight into each others eyes.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long” he gasps before his lips are on hers again, hungry and eager.

Her hands start to roam all over his body, soothing over the planes of his skin, digging her fingernails in every now and again, forcing a little moan out of Spencer each time. When he finally grows too impatient his fingers start to work open the buttons on her oversized shirt.

After a minute he’s managed to get them all open and he can pull the shirt apart. As it slouches off of her shoulders he can see her underwear, it’s mismatched and there’s something endearing about it. The fact that neither of them anticipated this. But that was probably for the best, if he knew this is what he was going to do tonight his nerves would’ve gotten the better of him.

His hands are on her immediately, grabbing her breasts over the light cotton fabric, squeezing them gently as he presses his mouth against her neck, planting soft kisses all along it. She takes the time to shrug out of the shirt completely, and his hands snake behind her to unhook her bra and pull it off. Exposing her breasts completely for just a second before his mouth is on them. Cupping one in each hand and placing rough, sloppy kisses all over the soft skin as she moans above him.

“Spencer” she says it with a little gasp as his lips wrap around one of her nipples, just the sound of his name tumbling from her lips was enough to make him hard.

“I need you” she whimpers, and he's gone, bringing one of his hands down between her legs, ghosting over the crotch of her panties to feel the damp patch that had formed there.

“You’re so wet for me” he breathes against her ear, pushing one of his fingers harshly against the fabric, right against her clit, forcing another moan from deep in her chest.

“Fuck, I’ve been wet since I climbed on top of you” she moans, “I was worried you were gonna be able to feel it” she says with a breathy laugh.

“If I’d have been able to feel this,” he says, rubbing small circles over her panties, “then you wouldn’t have gotten to finish that painting”

Once he takes his fingers away she pushes him down by his shoulders, finally straddling the other side of his hips like she’d been thinking about doing for the past hour, or past several years. But he lets out a small yelp of protest.

“The painting!” he says as his back collides with the canvas but she chuckles.

“Fuck the painting” she leans in planting feverish kisses all along the expanse of his neck, sucking and biting in spots so that they’d hopefully leave little bruises later on.

From there they both give up on trying to preserve any of the art on Spencer’s back. Within a matter of minutes it was smeared all along the canvas beneath them. Along with some of the paint one, or both of them, had managed to knock over.

He’s not sure exactly how it happened but at one point he grips her waist and leaves a blue hand print along her skin from the paint he’d managed to put his palm in. When she catches sight of it she just lets out a small laugh.

“I don’t care” she says, when he’s looking up at her with just the smallest hint of worry, “As long as it doesn't get inside me we’re alright”

Before they get too messy she sits up off of him for a minute, taking off her panties and using them to wipe off the little bit of paint that had somehow ended up next to Spencer’s bottom lip. He lets out a small gasp as she traces the fabric along his skin and mutters a tiny, “Good as new” in her sultry sweet voice.

And then her lips are on his again as one of her hands snakes down in-between them to pull at the waistband of his boxers, she gets them down far enough to pull his cock out so that it was right in front of her. He was already achingly hard but something about the size of if in her nimble fingers made him twitch in her grip, leaking from the head with the anticipation.

“God, the things I want to do to you” she gasps as she pumps him up and down in long last strokes, squeezing every now and again as he squirmed underneath her, “But right now I need you inside me Spencer”

With that she rises up on her knees, hovering over him and lining his cock up right between her legs. She takes a second to tease him, running the head through her folds, so that he could feel and hear just how wet she was for him. Once he looks like he can’t take even one more second of the teasing she lowers her hips slowly, sinking down onto his length bit by bit. Right until her hips were flush with his own and he was buried completely inside of her.

They both had to take a minute to savor the feeling. The way she was so wet and warm around him, so tight that he could feel the way she clenched around him. 

The way he stretched her out so perfectly, filling her up in a way that made her think they might actually be made for each other.

And then she starts to move, pumping her hips up and down, leaning forward slightly so that she can rest her hands on his flushed chest for support. She starts off slow, almost at a teasing pace, taking him in as deep as she could each time.

“You feel even better than I imagined” he mutters, his hands coming up to grab her hips, leaving another set of handprints in their wake. “So perfect”

She leans down a little further so that she can place a small kiss on his lips.

“God, you do to! Didn’t know it could feel this good” she moans without really thinking about it, and then she realizes it’s the truth. Something about the anticipation made all of this feel so much better than it ever had with anyone else.

With his hands guiding her now, gripping her harshly, she starts to move faster. Working up and down with more force, both of them panting and moaning desperately as they grew closer and closer.

He’d dreamt about it, imagined it, thought about it, more times than he’d care to admit. But seeing her now, on top of him with her lips softly parted, little whines falling out of her as she hit her climax, he realized his mind could never do this justice.

“Fuck! Ah— Spencer, I’m gonna—” her hips slow to almost a stop, working up and down still but with staggered movements as she rides out her high. Thankfully Spencer’s only a second behind her and she can feel the way he's spilling inside of her, filling her up completely. Then she collapses flat onto his chest, both of them are covered in a sheen of sweat that almost makes their bare skin stick together.

“You’re covered in paint you know” is the first thing Spencer says, his fingers tracing along her back.

“You’re one to talk” she jokes, dragging her finger through the streak of red paint that had gotten on his neck somehow.

Then he finally turns his head, looking at the spilled and smeared paint that lay around them on the once bare canvas.

“I thought you needed this canvas for that painting?” he asks, but she just looks up at him with a smile.

“I think this turned out better”

– –

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DIWK - Chapter four: "Hurt"

Words count: 13,7K

The gif is mine ✨

Warnings: Hardcore Spencer trauma. Mention of drug abuse,  torture, Criminal Minds usual case triggers. Spoilers of Season 2 E14/15 Criminal Minds.

Summary: An unsub abducts Spencer, and reader blames JJ for it.

A/N: Have you ever wished you were there to save Spencer from Tobias Hankel? I know I have. I know reader wants to... I'm dying to know what you'll think of this chapter! Sorry if it's a little too graphic, writing Spencer's POV of this episode was really hard.

Series Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen |

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(Y/N)'s point of view

I remember the day Emily Prentiss arrived. We had a case in Saint Louis. Two serial killers, 'cos it couldn't just be one asshole making everyone miserable. And on top of all, Hotch was confused and upset 'cos he never signed Emily's transfer to the BAU. It was like someone was trying to force her into the team, and we all thought it was weird.

We left the bullpen off to the case and left Prentiss in the office, not knowing if she actually got the job or not. I know Elle and I weren't incredibly close, but it still felt weird to think someone might join the team and try to replace her. It didn't work that way in that job. It didn't feel right at the moment.

There is something I also distinctly remember about that day: Gideon talked to me. And not only that, but he actually trusted my knowledge. We hadn't been on the best terms for a few months, so that approach meant a lot to me.

We were at the police station. Reid and I had been analyzing the letters one of the killers had sent to a journalist to find something that might help us catch him before there were any more victims. That's when JJ and Jason walked in, and he asked about our progress.

- "He only sent this to an individual, which shows he is not confident enough to initiate contact with the masses."- Spencer explained as he projected an image of the letter on the wall.

- "Emotional indicators are analyzed through slants, and you can see the shooter maintains vertical, narrow letter writing, and both are signs of repression"- I said and pointed at the image on the wall- "And the pressure, if you look closely, it's excessively heavy, which shows that he's uptight and can easily overreact."

Gideon looked at me and nodded. It was my cue to keep on talking. For once in a long time, I was feeling approved by him.

- "You got all that from his handwriting?"- JJ asked me, surprised. Reid looked at me from the other side of the room, and I could feel his smile reflecting how proud he was of me.

- "Graphology is an effective and reliable indicator of personality and behavior."

- "But my writing is always different,"- she added, and I nodded. I was waiting for that comment.

- "Yes, because it represents your emotions at the moment, just like your facial expressions parallel the way you are feeling while you are speaking."

- "What else can we know about our unsub from this?"- Gideon asked me.

- "Well, our killer uses simple statements, all first person, like "I won't be ignored," which means he's obviously tired of feeling this way. He may have a job in solitude or one that he feels strips of his identity. His work might require him to wear a uniform, something that shows absolutely no individuality, or he may be overqualified for his menial job and feels that he doesn't get the respect that he necessarily deserves."

I made a pause and waited for his words. I was giving my best, and I swear I was still hoping I could ever get Jason Gideon's blessing.

- "I think we are ready to give a profile,"- he said and nodded.

And damn, that felt good.

When we were back in Quantico, Hotch had a long and clearly awkward conversation with the section chief, Erin Strauss. She was scary. She was clearly trying to get rid of Hotch, questioning his work daily, decisions, and how he managed the team. Why? I have no idea.

It felt she forced him to accept Prentiss into the team. We were one man down after Elle left. Ok, one awesome woman down, so we definitely needed some help. And Emily was a great addition from day one.

We clicked right away. Prentiss was funny, smart, but most of all, she constantly had to prove she deserved to be there. Just like me. Gideon gave her the cold shoulder from day one, and that I could relate. The only difference was that she won him over in a few days, though. I was still trying to win that battle.

Garcia decided we needed a girl's night, and she hosted the first of many "BAU Girl Power get together." Basically, it was us at Penelope's place drinking and talking.

That first night, we updated Prentiss with everything that had happened with Elle. She wanted to know everything about us, what we did, how long we've been on the team, and how we all got along. It was sweet and fresh. After that year in the BAU, I had already learned to enjoy the sweet things in life. Like getting drunk with my work girlfriends.

- "So, does Hotch ever smile?"- Emily asked, and we all laughed at the very same time. Yes, it was getting late, and we weren't as sober as we should have been.

- "He does! he does!"- JJ assured us- "You should see him with his baby."

- "He is a dad?"- Emily was shocked. I was surprised too when I found out Aaron was married and with a baby. The amount of time he spends at work always made me feel he had zero personal life.

- "And has a beautiful wife"- JJ added- "He is always laughing when he is with her and baby Jack."

- "I guess this job can drain the happiness from your day... "- I thought out loud, but before anyone could say anything about my dark and bitter comment, my cell phone rang.

- "Hey honey bunny, everything ok?"- I stood up and walked to the kitchen. I didn't want to interrupt the girl's conversations.

- "Yes, I just wanted to make sure you were drinking enough water between drinks"- I laughed and shook my head. Only Reid could call to say such a thing. He was the sweetest friend on earth.

- "Yes, I am, don't worry. I'm not going to be hungover or drunk tomorrow. I know you are excited about the new exposition."

- "You are gonna love it!"

- "I am sure I will"- and I wasn't kidding. I loved when he dragged me to the Smithsonian or any museum for some nerdy fun.

- "Have fun with the girls."

- "What are you doing, by the way?"

- "Just reading a little, you left your complete Sherlock Holmes collection here, so I'll be solving mysteries while you get drunk."

- "Don't have too much fun without me"- he chuckled and ended the call. I smiled and walked back to the girls looking at me with a funny grin on their faces.

- "Was that your boyfriend?"- Penelope asked me, and I frowned right away.

- "No, it was Reid. He just wanted to confirm we are going to the museum tomorrow."

- "Wait"- Prentiss narrowed her brows and looked at us confused- "Reid ain't your boyfriend?"

JJ and Garcia's laughter was epical, as well as my frown. They nearly gasped for air while Prentiss and I waited until they calmed down.

- "No"- I finally answered- "Reid is not my boyfriend."

- "He is more than that; he is her work husband,"- Penelope clarified, and I turned to her with my mouth wide open, shocked.

- "What the fuck? Reid ain't my work husband. He is my best friend!!"

- "Yes, and you happen to call your best friend "honey bunny," right?"- JJ questioned, just like she had a few months before when we were alone in our room away on a case.

- "Reid is my best friend, and yes, I call all my close friends by weird pet names. You will get one too if you are lucky."

- "But I thought"- Emily continued- "I mean, he looks at you like you are his sun."

- "No, Prentiss, the only coupe in this team is the one between "chocolate thunder" and "baby girl" right here"- I pointed at Garcia, and she just blushed and covered her face.

- "My love for Derek will burn forever with the intensity of a thousand suns. I mean, have you seen that man? he was made by the gods and sent to earth just to give my existence some sense"- we all laughed at those cheesy words, though Pen was serious about them.

- "But, have you ever...?- JJ looked at her and made a pause. We were all looking at every single facial movement or behavior she might show to read her body language."

- "My relationship with my loverman could never be tainted by something as mundane as sex."

- "Like you wouldn't lick honey from that six-pack and ride that thunder."

The words just left my lips, and I blame the buzz. BAU (Y/N) would have never said that. Drunk (Y/N) would, totally.

The girls laughed until tears fell from their eyes, and I just chuckled, honestly happy to make them laugh. I had been more of the real me than I had ever actually been around them in nearly a year.

- "Hello?"- my phone rang again when I was walking out of the bathroom. And this time, it was Paul.

- "Hey babe, what are you doing?"

- "Hey, I'm..."- I looked at the girls in front of me and sighed- "I'm stuck with paperwork"- and they turned to me immediately. I could read the "What the fuck" on their faces.

- "Well, I'm at Rob's in case you feel like dropping by. We are writing a few songs."

- "I'll text you if I finish with this early, but... have fun."

- "Ok, bye"- I hung up and sighed.

- "And that was..."- Prentiss asked, frowning.

- "My boyfriend,"- I explained and grabbed another beer

- "Sure, I could feel the passion,"- Garcia joked, but I just didn't think it was funny.

I knew my relationship with Paul wasn't alright. Actually, things with Paul weren't. Period. We were done, it was apparent, but still, neither of us had said it. That relationship was just a few phone calls every once in a while, only to make small talks. When we were together, we would just watch a movie, eat something, drink a few beers, and that was it. It had been a long time since we had sex or even made out. I don't know why I didn't end it sooner. I guess I was just afraid to do it.

But I let more months pass before I actually did something.

Spencer's point of view

I'm not proud of what happened that year after Prentiss joined the team. I think that year changed me profoundly, and a part of me never fully recovered afterward.

Maybe it had to be that way, and it was something I had to go through to grow up. I guess I'm still trying to make some sense of all the misery I put my friends through. Mostly (Y/N). She was in hell with me.

A few weeks after New Year, we started working on a case. Someone was killing wealthy people in their own homes. At first, we thought there were two unsubs, 'cos one of them called 911 after killing, and you could hear them struggling and arguing. But no, it was just one.

Tobias Hankel was a delusional serial killer. He had split personalities, not two but actually three. His father, the one who tortured me. The archangel Raphael, who was trying to make God's will, killing people. And himself, who wanted to save me, but instead, he nearly destroyed me.

What do I remember about the day he kidnapped me? I remember I was stupid enough to try to catch an unsub alone, just to prove I could take care of myself on the field. Hotch sent me and JJ to talk to Hankel at his house, 'cos apparently, he might have seen the unsub months earlier. But no, he was the unsub, and neither JJ nor me could stop him.

We hid in a barn, and I was so eager to prove I could catch him; I told JJ we had to split up to cover the place. I was counting on Hotch to get there with the team sooner than they did, and before I realized it, I was in the middle of a cornfield, and Hankel was pointing at me with my own gun.

I was sure I was going to die right there. All of Hankel's personalities were struggling inside of him. I couldn't stop thinking about why I thought I could do it on my own? Why had I been a reckless asshole? Was it because I wanted to prove I was an excellent SAA? Because I wanted to impress JJ? Maybe I tried to convince myself I could do the same job my team did. I knew I wasn't the most physical person, but I had a gun. I had been trained to capture killers.

Yes, I was an asshole that day, and I've regretted everything that happened that night many, many times in the following years.

When I woke up, I was tied to a chair, and the archangel Raphael had taken Hankel's mind completely. The room was dark, and it smelled awful. He was burning fish hearts and livers, 'cos he believed it kept the devil away.

I was confused and lost. My head was spinning, and my heart was about to burst into my chest. I knew I could die any second now. Raphael wasn't the one to show mercy. That's what I had learned from all the videos Hankel had uploaded to the web. He had shared with the world every murder they had committed to show the other sinners what was going to happen to them.

- "They believe you can see inside men's minds"- Raphael looked at me with dark eyes, implying he meant Tobias and his father

- "It's not true. I study human behavior."- my voice was shaking. I knew I had never been more scared in my entire life. He took out a gun and showed me one bullet.

- "Do you know what this is? It's God's will."

Things didn't look good for me. He put it in the cylinder of the revolver and spun it. He was going to let my life to luck.

- "You don't have to do this"- I tried to talk him out of it, though I knew it wasn't going to work.

- "No go, sinners, to your God."

And he pressed the trigger.

What went through my mind the seconds that passed between having the gun pointed to my face and realizing I had lived? My mom. All I could think of was how my mom would react to the news of my death. I could never bear to hurt her like that. I couldn't die. I couldn't leave her alone.

I sighed, relieved, and bit my lips not to cry. Raphael looked at me with a blank expression and walked out of the room. I had survived for now.

I struggled with my handcuff, but it was useless. My head was killing me. I could feel the open wound on my head, still dripping blood on my temple and head. I tried to focus on the pain for a few minutes, just to make sure I was awake. It was a nightmare, and keeping myself sane and conscious under those circumstances was nearly impossible.

How was I going to get out of there alive? Did the team know where I was? I had no idea where I had been taken. I had been unconscious the whole way. It was dark, and I couldn't see much around me. I wasn't afraid of that darkness. I was more fearful of the man that left me alone, 'cos he was armed and mentally unstable. Darkness had nothing on him.

I had to focus on the things that kept me sane. The things that made me want to get out of that room alive.

- "My name is Spencer Walter Reid. I'm twenty-five years old, my mother's name is Diana Reid, I was born in Las Vegas, October 28th, 1981."

I closed my eyes and tried to think of all the things that made me happy.

- "I work at the BAU, my best friend's name is (Y/N), and she sits at the desk in front of me. Derek Morgan is the closest I've got to an older brother."

He was. He still is. You have to be close to dead to start seeing things clearly sometimes. Derek was my brother. He treated me like a kid, but a kid brother. He was always teasing me, trying to teach me how to pick up girls, trying to drag me to the gym with him. Derek was a good friend, we were very different, and I knew if we had been classmates in high school, we would probably never have talked. He was a jock, and I was a nerd. But life had brought us together. And now I couldn't think of a better friend than him.

I tried to focus on my happiest memories. My birthday came to mind. The guys had planned a Halloween-themed birthday party at the conference room of the BAU. Of course, Garcia baked a cake and (Y/N) helped her decorate it. It was incredible, 'cos it was covered with tiny gourds and skulls.

- "Frank and Mikey sent you these,"- she announced after everybody had given me their presents. I wide opened my eyes in shock 'cos I had no idea her friends knew it was my birthday or even cared about it.

- "Why?"- I had to ask.

- "'Cos they think you are amazing. They actually wanted to come over to your house and have a few beers tonight."- I opened my mouth to say something, but Derek interrupted me.

- "Pretty boy is gonna get to work hungover again."

- "Shut up"- (Y/N) and I said at the same time, making everybody chuckle. I opened the present her friends had sent me and laughed right away.

- "Lucky Doc"- I read and took out of the bag a Sports Illustrated issue with Lila Archer on the cover. My cheeks turned red immediately.

- "Frank still hasn't overcome that story. I think he will hate you forever"- (Y/N) laughed (along with the rest of the team) and gave me another present.

- "They also sent you this. They said you were going to like the man in black"- it was a Johnny Cash's vinyl- "Frank picked it. He thinks he is some sort of musical psychic that can read people's taste in music."

- "We should get together and have a few beers one of these days. I need to thank them for these."

Gideon looked at me in silence as soon as I said those words. But I didn't care if he disapproved. I was going to be (Y/N)'s friend, whether he liked it or not.

He is the closest I've had to a dad in the latest years. He cares about me, and he tries to make the best of me that he can. Yes, he can be too apprehensive. I think that's a way to put it. But only because he wants me to be the best profiler I can be.

I never thought I would end up working at the BAU. I never thought I would love the job I do as much as I do. Back when I was in college, I thought I would dedicate my life to finding a cure for schizophrenia, but I ended up hunting serial killers across the country.

And though I was about to die, I didn't regret any of the decisions that led me there.

The morning found me shaking, cold, and scared. I was in a small cabin in the woods. Just like the worst and more cliché horror movie ever made. This was my own horror movie.

- "What are you staring at, boy?"- Tobias opened the front door carrying logs for the fire. His voice had changed yet again, so I knew it wasn't the same person I had talked to the night before.

- "You are not Raphael."- I whispered, looking at every movement he did.

- "Do I look like Raphael?"- had I insulted him? I couldn't tell. He turned to the fire, and I took a deep breath, doing my best to stay calm.

- "Thank you for burning those, for keeping us safe."- I said, looking at the fish hearts and livers he was preparing to put on the fire.

- "Don't try to trick me."

- "I would never try to trick you."

- "You are a liar."

- I'm not a liar."- it was hard to stay calm and not start screaming for help or mercy, but I knew that was going to take me nowhere with him.

- "Lying is a sin."

- "I'm not a liar."- he walked closer to me, and sat right in front of me, held my leg up, and grabbed my foot.

- "This will be over quickly if you just confess your sins."

- "I am not a sinner"- I whispered again. He took off my shoe.

- "We are all sinners."- it didn't look good for me, not at all, and I knew I had to talk to him with his words with his beliefs to save my life.

- "The Lord spake unto Moses saying "Speak unto all the congregation of the children of the lord" and say unto them, ye shall be holy, for I, the Lord your God, am holy."

Hankel, this time in the personality of his father, looked at me surprised. I might have done something right, 'cos he stopped moving, and for a second, I thought it was going to be ok.

- "You know Leviticus."

- "I know every word of the bible. I can recite it for you."- but his eyes turned dark again.

- "The devil knows how to read too."

- "I'm not a devil, I'm not a devil2- I repeated, and couldn't stop shaking, 'cos my life on the hands of a sociopath.

- "I'm a man, my name is Spencer Reid, and I have a mother, and I have a father just like you, and they taught me the bible, let me recite the bible."

My voice cracked at the knowledge of what he was going to do. He stood up, still holding my foot. He was going to torture me, he was going to try to break me, and I had to be strong. I didn't know how I would find the strength, but I had to be strong.

- "Time to confess, Spencer Reid"- and without further notice, he slapped a log against my foot, making me scream in pain. It hurt from the tip of my toes until the back of my skull. I hadn't felt that kind of pain, and it was worse knowing he was just getting started. Tears started falling down my cheeks in no time.

- "Confess!"

- "I don't have anything to confess."- I whimpered and closed my eyes, 'cos I knew he was going to continue his torture. And so he did. The pain was excruciating. I was sure I was going to pass out

I tried to go to a happy place in my head, somewhere when I could hide from all that pain. It was too hard, though. It hurt too much. I kept repeating over and over again I wasn't a sinner, begging Hankel for mercy, as he shouted I had to confess.

I made an effort to think about what he might want me to say. What did he want me to confess? Which sins was he talking about? But nothing came to my mind, nothing but the pain and the fear of dying.

(Y/N)'s point of view

The second we reached Hankel's cabin, I started looking for Spencer. I had a horrible feeling about it. Morgan and I headed it to a barn with Prentiss. There was no sign of anyone. It was dark and quiet. Never a good sign.

- "Shit!"- I whispered, staring at three dead dogs and a bath of blood in front of me. There laid the body of another victim that was missing from Hankel's last attack.

- "FBI!!"- JJ shouted suddenly. She was pointing his gun to us, clearly in shock- "Don't move!!"

- "JJ, it's Morgan, (Y/L/N), and Prentiss! Don't shoot"- Derek tried to calm her down, walking towards her- "Are you hurt?"- she lowered the gun and stared at us. You could read the fear and the trauma in her eyes.

- "Tobias Hankel is the unsub,"- she whispered as Prentiss rubbed her arm sweetly, trying to comfort her.

- "Yeah, we know"- I moved towards her too and put my gun back into the holster.

- "And we thought he was just a witness"- we looked around, and JJ pointed at the dead dogs.

- "JJ, where is Reid?"- Derek asked her, but she just continued talking.

- "They completely tore her apart"

- "JJ, look at me,"- I said and held her arm carefully- "Look at me, where's Reid?"- she was shaking, and her voice was cracking. I knew she was making her best effort to pull herself together.

- "We split up. He said he was going to go in the back."

And there it was. That was the reason why I had a bad feeling all along. Derek looked at me and nodded as we read each other's minds. The two of us turned around and ran outside, leaving JJ with Prentiss, waiting for the medical team and ambulance to check on her wounds.

Gideon and Hotch were inside the cabin, looking for Hankel, but there was no one there. And there was no sign of Reid behind the barn either, in the cornfield, or anywhere in the perimeter. Reid was nowhere to be found, and I started losing it little by little. I tried to repeat myself the words Hotch had said many times during my year in the BAU: "when you are out there with the team; your mind has to be one hundred percent on the case." But the case had never included my best friend missing before.

- "Hey, is there any sign of him yet?- I asked the police chief as I reached the ambulance. He was there talking with JJ, making sure she was ok.

- "We got every one of our units on the road. He won't make it far"- I nodded and watched him walk away. I knew he thought I was talking about Hankel, but I actually meant Reid.

I turned to JJ and moved a little closer to her. Her eyes open wide, staring back at me.

- "You can't find Reid?"- I just shook my head and tried to sound as casual as I could, not to freak her out. She was still in shock. I didn't want to make it worse.

- "Not yet"

- "(Y/N)"- Derek held my arm and forced me to walk away from the ambulance.- "Reid followed him into the cornfield. It looks like somebody got dragged."

My heart stopped. Did the psychopath hurt Spencer? Did he kill him? Did he torture him? Was he hurt? Was he alive? Where was he? Derek looked at me, and I nodded. I bit my lips and took a deep breath. Hotch's words were my mantra now: "your mind has to be one hundred percent on the case."

- "Are you sure?"- we turned to the police's chief, overhearing his conversation- "We are on our way now."

- "What's going on?"

- "The sheriff down two towns over, he just gave directions to a man who fit Hankel's descriptions. It's to a motor lodge in fort bend."

- "Let's get Hotch and Gideon"- Derek held my arm and walked with me to the cabin. We had to find Reid, and we had to do it fast.

That was the worst night of my life. The first worst night of my life, to be sincere. I didn't close an eye. I went through every paper, every note, every detail in that cabin, trying to find a clue that could lead us to where Tobias had taken Reid.

I felt someone had ripped my heart from my chest. I had to think straight, and to do it, I had to keep a cold head. But as the hours passed, it became a more demanding and more challenging task to complete. I knew the whole team was suffering, but that didn't ease my pain. And I knew JJ felt guilty, but that didn't stop me from blaming her in my mind. She left him alone. I would have never left Spencer alone on the field.

- "(Y/N), you should try to get some rest."

Derek whispered as he sat on the floor next to me, where I had been sitting for the last half hour, reading Tobias's old diaries. Nothing but fear of his father, mentions of Dilaudid use, and bible transcriptions.

- "I'm ok,"- I answered and didn't even take my eyes from the pages.

- "(Y/N), I mean it"

- "I'm not going to rest if he is out there in the hands of a psychopath, Derek"- I had to bite my lips and shut the fuck up, 'cos if I said one more word, I knew I was going to burst into tears.

Morgan just wrapped an arm around my shoulders and moved me closer to him. That was the first time I let him hug me, and it felt good to know I wasn't alone in my desperation. I knew he loved Reid like a brother, and neither of us was going to stop until we found him.

- "Welcome to our nightmare"- JJ's voice broke the silence we had been into for the last hour when Hotch walked into the cabin with Penelope.

It was morning already. There were still no signs of Reid. Prentiss, Gideon, JJ, and I had been sitting at the table, reading everything we could.

- "His computer is an extension of his brain. I need you to dissect it,"- Gideon whispered to García. You could feel the concern in his voice. She just nodded in shock and turned to Derek, who held her hand and helped her get set up in the computer room.

- "So, nothing new since I left?"- Hotch asked and looked at us. I just shook my head and continued reading.

- "Well, the good thing is the guy documented practically every second of his life"- Prentiss words took me from the pages I was reading. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. The concept of "good" was poorly used in that phrase.

- "The bad news is, we are still un-piling,"- she added and sighed.

- "From the looks of it, he hasn't left this place in years,"- JJ managed to say. She made her best effort to be useful, but she was in worse shape than everybody else. Yet, that didn't make me feel bad for her. I was mad at her and kept making my best to put it aside, 'cos my head had to be in the case.

- "He knew he could pretend to be looking for a motel and throw us off his trail,"- Emily inferred, but I shook my head as soon as I heard her.

- "No, no, no, it's more than that!"- I shook my head and took a deep breath- "Sheriff's office, 911 calls, every time he engages the police and gets away with it... he reassures himself, God's on his side. Not ours."- I added.

Gideon nodded, and we shared a moment of agreement. He was as worried as I was. I could feel it. I'm not saying the rest of the team wasn't, I'm saying Jason was as fucked up as I was, and I could sense he was having the same trouble I had making sure my head and not my sentiments were into the case.

But if anything happened to Reid, I didn't know what I was capable of doing.

At a certain point, I got sick of reading and not doing anything and decided to look around the house again if we had missed anything. Derek went along. One part of me felt he wanted to stay away from JJ too. Maybe he was as mad as I was about her leaving Reid alone. I know I couldn't blame her, but I did it anyway.

- "Guys!! I think I've got something!"- Derek yelled, and I ran over. He opened a door that led to a basement. I walked right behind him, pointing my gun and my flashlight all over. But there was no sign of Reid.

- "Tobias Hankel!!"- Morgan shouted. Someone was sitting in what looked to be a gigantic freezer- "Tobias!"- but we didn't get any response. I took a step closer and examined carefully.

- "Morgan, I think we just found Hankel's father."

Spencer's point of view

On my second night in that cabin, I met Tobias. The third personality of Hankel walked into the room, carrying what seemed to be a dead deer. He looked as frightened as I was.

- "You need to eat."

- "What's your name?"

- "Tobias."

- "Tobias, who was here before?"

- "Probably my father."

He looked at me up and down, and he immediately understood what he had done to me. It was scary how he could dissociate. Someone with multiple personality disorder is usually unaware of the other personality states and memories when an alter is dominant. In this case, Tobias knew the other personalities but considered them different persons. He didn't think they were all in his head.

- "I'm sorry if he hurt you."

He looked at me like he understood everything I had been going through. Maybe he had been through something similar when his father was alive. Perhaps he had been a victim of Hankel as well, and that's what triggered his psychopathic nature.

He walked over and took out his belt.

- "What are you doing?"- he wrapped it around my arm, and I started begging him to stop.

- "It helps"- he took out of his pocket a needle and a small bottle of what seemed to be some kind of drug.

- "Don't tell my father. He doesn't know they are here."

- "Please, I don't want it, I don't want it, please"- I cried and begged.

- "It helps. I know"- it was the last thing Tobias said before the needle found my vein.

And he was right. It helped. Every single amount of pain I was feeling disappeared. My brain shut down. Somehow, everything was ok. I never had in my entire life felt so good before.

My mind kept flashing memories of when I was a kid. I kept seeing images of the day my father left and how he called my mother crazy.

- "You are weak"- mom spit those words after he refused to take me with him. I know she said it not because she didn't want me with her, but because mom knew she was sick and wanted the best for me. And he refused.

- "I'm not weak."- I whispered as I looked at her smiling back at me.

- "I know, honey."

I don't know how long I was drugged, but when I woke up, Tobias wasn't there with me anymore. It was his father.

And the torture continued.

(Y/N)'s point of view

Gideon was trying to convince me to go out with Prentiss and JJ to see a Narcotics anonymous's contact that might give us more information about Tobias. Emily had found some flyers about it in his room, and it could be the only lead we had to find him and Reid.

- "You need to get out of this house for a while"- he whispered and tapped on my back.

I knew he wasn't the one to be loving or physical with people, less with me. But that moved me. I turned to him and my eyes watered up. I was scared, and I couldn't hide it anymore. The more hours passed, the fewer the chances were to find Spencer safe. Alive.

I felt his arms around me suddenly, holding me tight, trying to keep the pieces of me together. We were alone on the porch, and though I didn't want to fall apart, I couldn't hold it anymore.

Jason didn't say a word. He just hugged me and let me cry for a few minutes. I didn't say anything either. I actually couldn't because I was overwhelmed with everything.

- "Are you ready, (Y/N)?"

Prentiss whispered as she walked over with JJ. I turned my back at them for a second to hide the tears that kept falling down my cheeks. I knew it was a shitty thing to do, 'cos it was obvious I had been sobbing, but they gave me the courtesy of not saying anything.

- "You go, I need (Y/N)'s assistance with some diary entries"- the two of them walked away quietly, and thankfully, didn't argue with Gideon.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and felt his hand on my shoulder one more time.

- "You are doing a fantastic job,"- he said and turned around.

I wish I could tell you that made me feel better, but instead, I just thought I had the duty to bring my friend back home safe.

It had been at least an hour since the girls left. Morgan, Hotch, Gideon, and the police chief were in the living room with me, reading. I sipped my hundredth cup of coffee and re-read the same diary entry for the third time.

- "There's something weird going on here."- I thought out loud and walked towards Gideon

- "You think?"- the police chief turned to me and raised an eyebrow, ironically.

- "No, seriously, check this out. This journal is filled with religious ramblings. He notated hour by hour: "November 15th, 3:17, if ye offer a sacrifice of peace offering unto the Lord, ye shall offer it at your own will", and it goes on and on: 5:04, 7:41, 10:22, 1:42."

I made a short pause and looked at Gideon and Hotch. They didn't get where I was going.

- "But then, it goes blank for days."

- "Maybe he got sick of writing"- I seriously hated that police chief.

- "I think I got it"- Hotch whispered- "Journal entry: "December 6th. Father is sick. He wants me to put him down. I say thou shalt not kill. He said, honor thy father. Must pray for guidance."

- "So he kills his father as an act of mercy?"- Gideon asked, knowing the answer.

- "This is two months ago. Tobias Hankel's father had been dead for four months already."

- "That's exactly it"- I murmured, thinking Tobias Hankel was way more fucked up than we thought.

- "Look at the floor"- Derek pointed at a chair and moved it- "These scuffs marks are fresh. It's like two people were pushing the chairs constantly, trying to fight for control."

- "So?"- I swear to God, that chief was driving me insane.

- "This journal matches Charles Hankel's handwriting, but it was written after he died"- I explained. Still, it felt he wasn't following me.

- "What do you mean?"

- "Upstairs, Tobias' bedroom got junk piled from floor to ceiling, but the other bedroom could pass a military inspection."

- "So, are you telling me one of Tobias' personalities was his father?"

Apparently, I had to draw a picture so the chief would get it. Fortunately, Gideon continued explaining the whole problem before I lost what was left of my patience.

- "Well, Tobias was raised with a strict religious code, black and white, right and wrong. When his father asked Tobias to kill him, something had to give."

- "His brain couldn't handle the moral contradiction, so he split into two personalities to keep his father alive."

Hotch tried to put it most easy and simple words possible.

- "So, who is Raphael?"

- "My guess, he is a mediator between the two"- Gideon nodded at my words and sighed.

- "Angels have no human emotions, live or die. They don't care, as long it's God's will."

- "We need to start profiling Tobias' father. He may be the one who chose where to take Reid."

Finally, I felt we were going somewhere.

When Emily and JJ came back, they gave us the news. Tobias was addicted to Dilaudid, which explained the fracture in his mind, and how he lived with three distinct personalities.

The police chief announced a computer store robbery, giving us some hopes that Tobias would use them to track him down.

- "Guys!! Guys!! get in here!!- I heard Derek shouting and I ran to the computer room. I felt sick in the stomach in less than a second. There he was, Spencer. My Spencer Walter Reid, tied to a chair, bleeding, shoeless. Clearly tortured.

- "He's been beating,"- I whispered, feeling my eyes water up. I would have given anything to be there instead of him.

- "Can you track him?!"- JJ yelled by my side, and I nearly smacked her. That's how sensitive I was feeling.

- "Hankel's only streaming this to his home computer."- Garcia whispered. And my heart dropped with those words.

That wasn't what I was supposed to hear. We were supposed to find him and bring him back safe.

- "This is for us"- Gideon didn't take his eyes from the screen- "He knows we are here."

- "I'm gonna put this guy's head on a stick"- Morgan was so mad I believed him. I wanted to do the same, if worse.

- "I'm gonna kill him myself as soon as we find him,"- I said and felt Aaron's hand on my shoulder as he asked Garcia

- "Why can't you locate him?"

- "He's rerouting to a different IP address every 30 seconds. I can't track him."

It knew it had to be hard if Penelope couldn't find her, but that didn't help. If anything, it made everything worse. I felt powerless. Hankel couldn't be more intelligent than us.

Spencer's point of view

- "Are you ready, boy?"- Hankel pulled my hair and forced me to look at him. I was still as high as fuck, but knew I was about to be tortured again.

- "Ready for what?"

- "My weakling son thinks God gave you to him for a reason"- if the reason was to get me into drugs, then the answer was yes.

Hankel placed a video camera in front of me.

- "Can you really see inside men's minds?"- he asked me and made a pause, pointing to three screens- See these vermin?

It took me a second to realize he was showing me images of real people. He had put cameras in those people's houses. How? When? What kind of sick game did he want me to play with him?

- "Choose one to die. I let you choose one to live."

- "No"- I didn't even think about my answer.

- "I thought you wanted to be some kind of savior."

- "You are a sadist and a psychotic break. You won't stop killing. Your word is not true."

I don't know if it was because of the drugs or because I hadn't eaten or drank any water in too long, but I was somehow resigned and tired of fighting.

- "The other heathens are watching- Hankel announced and pointed at the camera in front of me."

My eyes fixated on the camera right away. My team was watching me. (Y/N) was watching me. I didn't want to make her worry even more. I needed her to know I was ok. I know I wasn't, but I didn't want her to worry about me.

- "Choose a sinner to die, and I'll say the name and address of the person to be saved"- Hankel was sick. It was all a game, and religion was just an excuse to kill.

- "I won't get to choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher."

Hankel didn't like my answer, 'cos he grabbed me and pulled me up, looking into my eyes, insulted, annoyed, losing his temper.

- "Can you really see into my mind, boy?"

He was honestly scary, and it petrified me to think he could execute me right there, in front of the team, and I could never tell them how much they mean.

- "Can you see I'm not a liar?!"- he insisted. I nearly whimpered but made my best not to break- "Choose one to die and save a life. Otherwise, they are all dead."

He dropped me on the chair and turned around. It was clear he wasn't joking. I took a deep breath and nodded.

- "Alright, I'll choose who lives."

- "They are all the same"

My eyes traveled across all the monitors. It was nearly impossible to pick one person to live, knowing all the other people there would die. Hankel was sick, and I had to set a plan to escape because otherwise, I would end up dead.

- "Far right screen,"- I whispered. He turned around and nodded.

Then, he recited the name and address of the woman on the screen. I prayed for the team to find her before Hankel came after her too.

No. It wasn't Hankel this time.

- "Raphael,"- I whispered, and he nodded. I looked at the screen again. The woman we were watching picked up the phone. She was in her kitchen. He walked around, frowned, and turned to her computer. In a second, she had turned it off. My team had reached her. She was safe, I hoped.

Hankel turned the camera off and looked at me.

- "You've done your part. Now it's my turn."

I knew what that meant. It wasn't good.

He left the cabin, and all I could see were the monitors in front of me. Those people were going to die. They were going to die because I didn't pick them. I killed them. You don't need to pull a trigger to kill someone. I could never forget those words. And this time, they meant more than anytime before. I didn't press a trigger, but I had killed two innocent people. And I actually had to watch them die.

When I saw Rapahel walk into the victims' house, I tried to close my eyes and think of anything else. A part of me kept thinking he wasn't going to kill them. He just wanted to threaten me.

But not. Raphael slaughtered them.

I found myself craving whatever it was that Tobias had given me the night before. The drug in my veins had given me a kind of peace I had never felt. And I never thought I'd have either. The type of peace that can be addictive, 'cos it turns your head off. And God knows, sometimes I needed to turn my head off.

Remembering everything that has ever happened to me, especially all the awful things, wasn't a gift. It was a burden. And whatever it was that Tobias had put in my veins, it had taken that burden from my shoulders, at least for a couple of hours.

Who wouldn't want some more of that peace?

- "Reid!"- Gideon's voice took me from my thoughts. He was sitting right in front of the camera in the victim's house. He was there with Hotch and the police, investigating the crime scene.

- "If you are watching this, you are not responsible for this. You understand me? he is perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He can not break you."

I know he meant it. But I couldn't believe any of that, not after watching a family get slaughter just because I didn't pick them.

(Y/N)'s point of view

- "I thought you were going to try and get some rest,"- I said as JJ walked to me in silence. I made myself my hundredth cup of coffee, and she just showed up next to me, trying to engage in conversation, I guess.

- "Everybody else is working. I should be too."

- "We can handle it,"- I whispered and refused to look at her. I swear I was trying not to hate her, but it was getting harder and harder with every hour that passed without finding Reid.

- "It's funny, I keep thinking the one thing we need to crack this case is... well... Reid"- she chuckled, nervously and I just looked at her and nodded. I didn't even smile. I didn't move a muscle.

I didn't want to be with her, or anyone, as a matter of fact. And I wasn't going to hide it anymore. So I tried to walk away.

- "You think Reid and I should have stayed together at the barn, don't you?"

I stopped walking and looked at her. You could tell she was having a hard time facing the whole situation, and most of all, you could tell she felt guilty.

That really didn't stop me from being mad at her. I was trying to be the better woman during the investigation, but the uncertainty was getting on my nerves.

- "JJ, go get some rest,"- I tried to answer calmly, but I knew I was looking at her like she was dead to me.

- "I can tell that's what you are thinking, so..."

- "I just wanna get Spencer home safe."

- "But... if I had his back like I was supposed to do, he'd be here now"- and that was enough.

- "JJ, what the fuck do you want from me?"

- "I just...."- she was about to cry, you could tell- "I want someone to tell me the truth."

- "You want the truth? Ok, there you go: I would have never left him alone. None of this would have happened if I had been the one with him out there! 'cos I would never let anyone or anything hurt him!!"

I shouted. All the anger I had been feeling those days was finally getting off my chest. And fuck, it felt good.

- "You fucked it up, JJ, and if something happens to Spencer, I am never going to forgive you, never!"

JJ bit her lips, trying her best not to cry. But I still couldn't feel sorry for her.

- "Is that the truth you were looking for?"

- "(Y/L/N)?"- Hotch stood next to me with the most annoyed look in his eyes.

I knew I was out of line, but this wasn't about work anymore. This was personal. This was Reid we were talking about, and JJ had fucked it up. There was nothing to discuss.

- "What? You sent him with her, now she is here, and he isn't. What else is there to say?"

- "(Y/N)!"- Hotch followed me as I stormed out of the kitchen and out of the cabin- "(Y/N)! stop!"

- "What?!"- and I simply snapped- "Are you gonna suspend me for telling her the truth? Are you going to fire me for losing my shit while working a case!? Fine! I don't care! I don't give a fuck! All I care about right now is that my best friend is missing, and a fucking psychopath has him! That's all I can think of. That's all I've been thinking about for the last two days!"

I was yelling at Hotch. I was yelling at my unit chief. I was fucked. I knew he was going to fire me after that. But I couldn't help it. I was going insane. Tears kept falling from my eyes as I held my cup of coffee tight, holding onto it with my life.

- "(Y/N), we are all worried about Reid."

- "I know you are all worried. I am too, and I'm also afraid and mad and going fucking insane knowing I am standing here not knowing what to do to save him."

- "That doesn't give you the right to treat JJ like this is her fault"- I don't know if he was talking like my unit chief or like a father figure trying to end a fight between two of his kids.

- "Did she stay with Reid?"- I simply replied and looked at Hotch in the eyes- "Did she?"

- "She is not the only one who feels guilty, so do I. And I know I won't forgive myself if anything happens to Reid."

Hotch made a pause and tried to find a way to say what he wanted to say. The door opened, and Gideon walked to us. He knew what was going on, and he didn't say a thing. I was sure he had already heard everything. We weren't actually arguing quietly.

- "We are not getting any closer,"- Aaron finally said.

- "Reid is brilliant. He'll figure out how to survive"- Gideon's words were way more hopeful than my thoughts. In my mind, Reid was too scared to think of a way to escape.

- "You know, I always take advantage of Reid for his brain. But I never actually teach him how to deal with things emotionally."

Hotch whispered, and his words were filled with regret. I was filled with anger and anxiety, and I know the two of them felt the same. But they way better at handling their feelings.

- "Lead by example,"- Jason answered, probably trying to make him feel better.

- "What kind of example is that?"- I simply replied, and both of them stayed in silence.

I don't think my words helped Hotch, but I wasn't trying to do that either. I was just honest. And Hotch's emotional assistance was shit on the field. Even Gideon was better.

- "He'll make it,"- Jason reassured us and nodded- "Now stop arguing and go back to work."

Spencer's point of view

I was glad when Tobias came to me that night with a needle in his hand and put the drug into my vein. I needed some release after watching a family die 'cos I didn't save them.

- "I'm sorry I had to leave"- he excused himself, preparing the drug next to me.

- "You can leave again, and you can take me with you,"- I begged in a soft voice.

- "My father would be angry,"- he replied and didn't even look at me. This time, I didn't even argue when he wrapped the belt around my arm. I was even a little eager he'd do it faster.

- "Not if he can't find us."

- "He always finds me."

- "If you tell me where we are, my friends will come, and they'll save us."

He gave me a look, mixed with horror and resignation. It broke my heart to think for a moment of all the horrors that lead Tobias to be as sick as he was.

- "We can't be saved,"- he simply replied.

- "We can, we can, I promise. If you tell me where we are, I'll save us both."

- "Listen to me. It's not worth fighting."

Somehow, I understood why he said that. I was afraid and shaking but still did my best not to think of all the pain I was in, of the terror that haunted me day and night.

- "Tell me it doesn't make it better- he said and showed me the needle."

I couldn't say no, 'cos he was right. It did. The drugs made his horrible situation bearable. I could understand why someone decided to use something to avoid the pain. I had faced all and each one of the pain and horrors in my life sober. It was time life was a little bit sweeter, in a sick way.

I remembered being twelve. Mom had had one of her episodes the day before, she was in bed, and I woke her up. I walked into her room and opened the curtains. It was already five in the afternoon, and she still refused to get out of bed.

- "The doctor says you need to get out of bed,"- I argued when she repeated she was just resting.

- "I've been reading"

- "He says you need exercise"- she sighed and tried to make a joke.

- "That's because his idea of good literature is Our bodies, ourselves."

- "Well, he is your doctor."

- "He is a neanderthal"- I gave up and started walking out of the room. She just laid in bed and looked at me.

- "Where are you going?"

- "I'm going to see if Jeff wants to play"- Jeff was our next-door neighbor and my only friend growing up.

- "Come here. Let me read to you."

I know Garcia made fun of me when I said my mother used to read me Valentine's sonnets when I was a kid. Most people think I have a weird relationship with mom, but they don't understand what it was like growing up with her. They don't know what it was like for a twelve-year-old boy to finish high school, facing bullies. Handling the pressure of being a kid genius and the fact I had to take care of a schizophrenic mother.

How come I didn't start using drugs earlier?

I remember that afternoon I sat next to my mother, and she made me pick one of the many books she had with her on the bed. I choose Proust. I knew she loved it. I loved it as well.

"For a long time, I used to go to bed early. Sometimes, when I had put out my candle, my eyes would close so quickly that I had not even time to say, "I'm going to sleep."

I can still hear her voice, reading to me. Both of us avoided reality for a while, hiding in the books. I always do it regardless. I hide in the books to forget. I hide in knowledge to avoid acknowledging the real personal issues I have. I hide in my work saving people when no one ever saved me.

I work catching psychopaths when I know I might actually have a mental issue myself. I might end up just like mom, and it frightens me so much; there are many nights I can't even close an eye. If I get sick too, then no one will take care of her. I am the only one in her life. And she is the only one in mine.

She and (Y/N), but there is no way my best friend would ever take care of me if I got sick. Not because she wouldn't want to do it, but because I would never let her. I don't want to be a burden in her life. And she would hate me, I know. And I could never live in a world where (Y/N) hates me. Not then, not now.

(Y/N). She is the best thing that happened to me in the BAU. Yes, I had a family with my team, but she was different. She was my life. She was the reason why I smiled. She was the one person that made me feel I was important to someone. I knew the rest of my friend loved me, but I loved her.

That was it. I loved (Y/N). And I was scared I was never going to see her again.

(Y/N)'s point of view

I was standing next to Penelope. She kept trying to force me to eat. She knew I was living on coffee, but I just couldn't swallow anything. She held my hand as the two of us stared at the screens, hopefully waiting for Hankel to make contact again.

- "Any more signs of Reid?"- JJ walked over to us slowly and looked at me, afraid I might snap on her again. I just shook my head and sighed, doing my best to be nice to her.

- "He just posted the last murder online."

- "It had over 17 thousand hits in the first twenty minutes,"- Penelope added, and her voice was so full of revulsion. It was clear she couldn't handle the horror in the human mind.

- "I want to see it,"- JJ said, and I frowned, confused.

- "No, you don't,"- Garcia answered and looked at me- "Come on, munchkin, just eat one cookie, please."

- "Don't tell me what I want and don't want!"- JJ's tone shocked us both. She was severe and angry. She was rude at Penelope, and for a second, I almost snapped again.

- "If I can't watch this..."- JJ whispered and glued her eyes on the screen- "I have no business being in the field."

She looked at me when she was done talking, and for once during those awful days, I felt some kind of compassion for her. She had to be feeling like shit, no doubt, and no matter how mad I was at her, she was still my friend, and I didn't want her to suffer either.

- "JJ, it's not a competition,"- I tried to say in the softest voice possible.

- "I... I need to see it."

- "If you stop being affected by things, you lose parts of yourself, you know."

It was somehow ironic that I was the one saying those things. Me of all people in that team. Me, the one who was afraid the most of losing herself in work.

- "Show me"- she finally looked at Garcia, ignoring my words, and Penelope pleased her. She pushed play and simply said

- "I won't watch this with you."

García held my hand, walking me out of the room, leaving JJ alone in the room. She sighed and wiped the tears that started falling down her eyes.

- "I don't know how you do it either"- she whispered- "I don't know how you watch those things every day and don't go insane."

- "If it makes you feel better, I don't know how I do either, and it scared me to think my heart might be numbing with each case we solve. With every psychopath we catch."

- "We are gonna find him"- she assured me and held my hands tight- "We are bringing him home safe, I swear."

- "Let's go find Gideon,"- I said, nodding at her words- "He needs to know Tobias posted the last murder."

Jason was mad, beyond furious. He was losing it. Derek and Prentiss kept trying to crack Hankel and discover where he had taken Reid. Meanwhile, Garcia, Gideon, and I made our best to take the video of the murder from the web.

- "I have a list of everyone from the file-sharing chain. I could send out a mass warning that the video is actually a virus,"- Garcia said and started typing as fast as possible. I just stared at the screen, waiting for something, anything to happen.

But I wasn't waiting for what came next.

- "Confess your sins"- Hankel's voice made me jump, and the sight of Reid, still tied to that chair, bleeding, and being tortured, broke my heart again.

- "Confess!!"- that sick psychopath shouted and hit him.

- "I haven't done anything,"- Spencer sobbed, but it was useless. Hankel kept punching him, over and over again, even when my best friend begged for mercy.

I felt Jason hold my hand as I was holding Garcia's. The three of us felt powerless, useless, angry, and scared, all at the same time. I couldn't bear to watch Reid being tortured, but at the same time, I was so glad he was still alive.

That until Hankel beat him so hard, he pushed him back in the chair, and Reid started convulsing.

- "He is killing him,"- Penelope cried, and I closed my eyes, biting my lips. Spencer was choking, and that mother fucker just stood there, watching him die.

- "That's the devil vacating your body"- he spit those words as Reid simply passed out. I didn't know if he was dead. I didn't know if he was going to make it. Shit! I didn't know anything.

I let go of Jason and Penelope and stormed out of the room. I was unprofessional, and I knew it, but I knew I would quit if anything happened to Reid. I wasn't going to stay working at the BAU if Spencer died.

- "Are you ok?"- Derek grabbed my arm. I just broke into tears and held him tight. He wrapped his arms around me and let me cry.

- "He's dying! We can't find him!!"- I sobbed against his chest.

- "(Y/N)! (Y/N)!"- I heard Penelope yelling as we all rushed back to the computer room. Hankel was giving CPR to Reid, trying to bring him back to life.

- "Come on, come on, please,"- I begged as I watched him pushing his chest over and over again until Spencer woke up, gasping for air.

- "Thank God!"- Hotch sighed and rubbed his hands against his face. The whole team let out a breath of relief simultaneously, and I kept watching Reid. His opened eyes gave me hope.

- "Wait,"- Prentiss said suddenly- "When was the video of the last murder posted?"

- "Nine thirty"- Penelope answered

- "And when was the time of death?"

- "The 911 call came in at 9:04, and the murder must have been moments later."- Hotch added and didn't even turn to look at Prentiss. We were all still shocked looking at the screen.

- "That's just a 19 minutes difference,"- I said and turned to García- "How long would it take to post that file?"

- "Two or three minutes."

- "Let's call it two,"- I said, getting excited- "You figure a maximum of 60 miles an hour in a residential area. That means Hankel has to be within a 17-mile radius of the crime scene."

For a second, I felt I was rambling facts just like Reid would. It made me miss him even more.

- "García, can we see it on the map?"- Aaron whispered. He was clearly affected, and it also made me feel selfish, knowing I had made a tantrum with the whole team, forgetting they were suffering as well.

- "Call chief Farraday"- Jason commanded as soon as we saw the map of the area on the screen- "I want that area locked down like it's martial law."

JJ stood up and grabbed her phone but didn't make the call. García warned us something was going on with Reid and all of us stared at the screen in silence.

Spencer was on his back on the floor, still tied to a chair. It was clear he wasn't fully conscious of what was happening.

- "You came back to life,"- mother fucker Hankel said, spitting the words in anger.

- "Raphael,"- Reid whispered, recognizing one of his personalities.

- "There can be only one of two reasons."

- "I was given CPR,"- my friend whispered, but it was clear that wasn't one of the psycho's options.

- "There are no accidents. How many members of our team are watching us right now?"

- "Seven."

- "The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail, and they were thrown to the earth."

- "He thinks it's the revelations"- Hotch explained- "The seven archangels versus the seven angels of death."

I didn't know much about religion, but it didn't take a genius to figure out he didn't believe we were the good guys.

- "Tell me who you serve."

- "I serve you,"- Reid answered right away. His voice was a whisper. He had to be exhausted.

- "Then choose one to die"

- "What?!"

- "Your team members, choose one to die"- I knew what he was going to answer at that, and I didn't want to hear it.

- "Kill me,"- he replied immediately, and I closed my eyes, unable to watch what would happen next.

- "You said you weren't one of them."

- "I lied."

- "Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies."

- "No"- Penelope gasped, and Prentiss cursed. I opened my eyes and nearly fainted. Hankel had a gun pointed against Reid's forehead.

The silence amongst the team was unbearable. Neither of us knew what to do. We were all panicking, praying, desperate.

- "Choose and prove you'll do God's will."

- "No."

Neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed until Hakel pulled the trigger, and no bullet came out. I nearly sigh, but it wasn't over.

- "Choose"- he repeated

- "I won't do it"- Hankel didn't even wait. He just pulled the trigger, and we all jumped at the same time. He was safe again.

- "Life is a choice."

- "No,"- Reid repeated once again. And Hankel pulled the trigger for the third time.

- "Choose"- and for the first time, Spencer made a pause. Was going to pick one of us to die?

- "I choose"- the whispered- "Aaron Hotchner."

Derek and I looked at him, and his pale face didn't move a muscle.

- "He's the classic narcissist. He thinks he's better than everyone else on the team. Genesis 23:4 "Let him not deceive himself, and trust in emptiness, vanity falseness, and futility, for these shall be his recompense."

Hotch stormed out of the room as Hankel pulled the trigger one more time and shot the wall.

I felt I was going to puke. If Reid hadn't picked one of us, he would be dead.

- "For God's will,"- the mother fuck said, as he put another bullet in the gun after removing the casing.

I couldn't look anymore. I followed Gideon and Derek to find Aaron going through all Tobias's diaries on the table.

- "I'm not a narcissist,"- he said as soon as he saw us.

- "Come on. Look, you can't think anything from that"- Jason tried to calm him down, in case he was somehow affected by what Reid had just said on camera- "He is not in his right mind, Hotch."

- "No, stop, stop. Alright, everybody, right now: what's my worst quality?"

He had to be kidding. We all stared at him, muted, lost in that conversation. What was his point? Neither of us said a word. We just looked at each other, confused and awkward.

- "Ok, I'll start. I have no sense of humor."

- "You are a bully,"- JJ added.

- "You can be a drill sergeant sometimes,"- I said, and he nodded.

- "Right."

- "You don't trust women as much as men"- you could feel it in Prentiss's voice. That one was personal.

- "Ok, good. I'm all these things, but none of you said that I ever put myself above the team because I don't, ever. Reid and I argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and he knew that I would remember that. He also quoted Genesis chapter 23, verse 4. Read it."

Hotch gave me the book. He wasn't even breathing as she spoke. He was in a hurry. We were all.

- "I'm a stranger and a sojourner with you. Give me property, forbear a place among you that I may bury my dead of my sight."

- "He wouldn't get it wrong unless it were on purpose."

- "He is in a cemetery."- I said and looked at him. He nodded, and I swear to God, I saw a slight smile on his lips. That smile was hope. We were getting closer.

Spencer's point of view

I took a sip of water. I hadn't drunk in days, and my throat burned. I was still a little lost, still a little off.

- "Tobias, is that you?"- I saw him nod, sitting next to me. He moved the cup of water closer so that I could drink some more.

- "Thank you,"- I whispered and looked at him- You saved my life- he stared down at the ground and finally whispered

- "I'm sorry."

- "Why?"

- "He'll win in the end."

It was sad to see Tobias Hankel's good person locked inside a sick mind that also held a psychopath like his father.

- "Tobias, I need to know something. It's important. Are we in a cemetery?"- and he nodded. I smiled at him and sighed, relieved. Help was coming. My team was coming.

- "I used to come here to get high."

- "I was right."

- "No one bothers you here. I never told anyone about it."

He wrapped his belt around my arm, and I turned to him, still smiling. I didn't know if I were happy I was right or glad I would get high again. Maybe both. Maybe the second 'cos the minute that needle got to my vein, that sweet, sweet release felt like a bath of joy that washed away any pain, regret, or guilt I could have ever felt.

Guilt. I've had my share of that. I remember the day I had my mom admitted to the hospital. She hadn't eaten in days. She wouldn't take care of herself, and they're just so much I could do. I wasn't able to keep her safe from herself, from her mind.

- "What are these men doing here?"- she asked me as I walked with two nurses into the study. She was writing and reading. It was all she did, preparing lectures for classes she didn't have to give, in imaginary campuses.

I stood in front of her and hesitated for a second. It was the hardest thing I had ever done, telling mom I was taking her away from her own house.

- "They are from the hospital. They are here to help,"- I whispered and looked at my mother's confused expression. She was so thin. She looked so sick. I felt so guilty I couldn't do better for her.

- "I don't need help, and you can't be here without permission, tell them, Spencer."

She looked down at her books again and tried to continue writing. I took a deep breath, I knew I would break her heart, but there was nothing else I could do.

- "I called them"- she looked at me in pain. Deep, honest pain. Like I had just shattered her heart. Which I had done.

- "Spencer"- she simply whispered and stared into my eyes, begging for an explanation. I was trying my best not to cry. I had a whole speech prepared. I was going to tell her how much I loved her. I was going to explain to her how good it was for her to be in a place where someone could continuously take care of her. I had facts and statistics, but all I managed to say was:

- "I'm doing this for you."

And I felt like a liar. 'Cos, there was a part of me that was doing it for myself too.

- "This isn't legal"- she shook her head in shock and kept trying to find a good explanation to what was going on.

- "Your son is eighteen, ma'am. He can act in your welfare,"- one of the make nurses explained to her.

- "You need help,"- I said and prayed she could understand. But she just burst into tears and begged.

- "I wanna stay here!"

- "I'm... sorry, mom."

- "Please, these are my things, this is my life..."

Those men took her. They took her from her house and put her in a hospital. No. I put her there. I put my mom in a hospital so I could live my life, 'cos I am selfish and couldn't take care of her anymore.

- "Spencer, please, don't do this to me."

Those were the words that haunted me day and night. And my mother's crying face, begging me not to take her from her own house.

What kind of a son am I? I did that to her. I put her in a mental place 'cos I couldn't deal with her disease anymore. 'Cos I didn't know how to take care of her.

- "What are you sorry for, boy?"- I heard Hankel ask when I woke up. I was muttering, "Sorry" as I came back from my trip.

- "I sent her away."

- "Who."

- "My mom. I couldn't help her."

- "Is that a confession?"- I nodded and looked around, confused. Lost. High- "You know the bible. Exodus 21:17"

- "And he that curseth his father or his mother shall surely be put to death,"- I whispered, scared and full of regret.

I heard him walk towards me. He kneeled and uncuffed me. I didn't know what was happening. Honestly, I was still too high to get what was going on around me.

- "Grab a shovel,"- he commanded and walked outside.

I was too weak to dig fast. I don't know how I was actually moving, but I was digging my own grave. I never thought I would ever end up doing such a thing. It's not something you think about, actually. Not unless you work in the BAU. Here, you start analyzing and considering the way you'll die: 'Cos you could, every day.

- "I ought to bury you alive in there, give you some time to think about what you've done,"- Hankel said and looked at me while I worked, playing with a knife.

- "I know what I've done."

- "Don't talk back to me! Dig!"

I pant and kept moving, very slowly, trying to buy myself some time too. I was sure the team was coming to get me any minute now. I was counting on them, though the more I thought about it, the less worthy of salvation I felt. Maybe I deserved to die after all.

I was almost certain I had seen some lights moving in the back. Flashlights. But it could be my mind playing tricks on me. I was too tired. And still too high, too.

- "Dig faster!"- he commanded me as I moved, losing my breath.

- "I'm not strong enough"- I cried, 'cos I felt like that. Like a failure, a child that aimed to be a grown-up and failed miserably. A bad son. The worst agent. A fake that deserved to die.

- "You are all weak!! Get out of there!"

Hankel took off his coat and left it on the ground. I slowly moved so he could dig for me, but the lights in the back took my attention, and he noticed. As soon as he turned around, I quickly grabbed his coat and reached out for the gun.

- "You've only got one bullet, son,"- he said as he looked at me. And I just pulled the trigger.

I shot him. I killed him. Hankel. Raphael. Tobias. I freed Tobias. Or at least, that is what I wanted to think.

- "Reid!!"- I heard (Y/N) yelling as I crawled to Tobia's body. He was still awake. He was himself.

- "You killed him"- he said, and he was relieved- "Do you think I'll get to see my mom again?"

- "I'm sorry,"- I whispered, and he was gone.

- "Reid!!"

(Y/N) yelled and ran over. She kneeled next to me and held me in her arms. I couldn't move, because for a few seconds, I couldn't believe she was real. She was there.

- "Honey, honey, are you ok? Can you hear me?"- she said, and tears started falling from her eyes- "Honey, it's me."

I just looked at her and hugged her. I hugged her as my life depended on it. There she was, next to me, finally.

- "I thought I was never going to see you again,"- I whispered and sobbed.

The urge to kiss her filled my whole body. I needed to taste her. I needed to show her how much I had needed her those days. But I knew I couldn't.

I didn't want to let her go. I didn't for a few minutes. I just hold onto her for my sanity. She kissed my forehead, cupping my face with both hands.

- "I'm so happy to see you. I'm glad you are ok... let's go to the ambulance, ok?"- I nodded but didn't let her go. I felt I could hold her forever. I wanted to keep her close for as long as I lived.

But the rest of the team gathered around us, and I wanted to thank them too. I needed to thank Hotch. So as soon as I let (Y/N) go, I wrapped my arms around him.

- "You alright?"- he asked me.

- "I knew you'd understand,"- I managed to say with tears falling from my eyes and a knot in my throat.

For a moment, I thought I was never going to see the team again. My family.

JJ held me close and apologized. I knew she felt guilty for leaving me alone, but I was the only one culpable for what had happened. I wanted to prove myself, and all I managed to do was prove I was a fool. A useless SSA.

- "It's alright, it wasn't your fault,"- I said and did my best to smile at her. But I know I failed. Gideon grabbed my arm and nodded.

- "Let's get you out of here."

- "Please,"- I whispered before we started walking- "Can I have a second alone?"- he looked at me and nodded, looking at Tobias' body lying by our side. He walked away, and I kneeled next to my capturer.

But instead of paying my respects, instead of cursing. Instead of anything, I took the Dilaudid bottles from his pocket and put them into mine.

And that's how the real hell started.

--

DIWK Taglist:

@all-tings-diego @big-galaxy-chaos @svveet-peas @muffin-cup @shilohpug

Spencer taglist

@calm-and-doctor

General Taglist

@spenxerslut @ash19871962

–

Do you want to be on the taglist or ramble about this chapter with me? Just send me a message here.

Next update: May 5th, 2021

[whosscruffylooking]

The Purest Things- Repeating History

Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and alcohol. Canon typical violence.

A/N: this takes place during season 3 episode 11, birthright. i had a lot of fun studying this episode and making it my own. i have changed certain dialogue and who says what for the sake of the story. please enjoy!

The Purest Things Masterlist

(my gif! please credit if you use.)

january 2008

Syd Moore said, “Disregard for the past will never do us any good. Without it we cannot know truly who we are.”

+++++

Your alarm is often hushed before it even has an opportunity to set off nowadays because you usually wake up before it even has the chance.

4:25 A.M.

You groan and toss your pillow over your face. Maybe, just maybe, you can will yourself to sleep for a little longer. As if someone heard your pleas for slumber, your phone starts buzzing on your bedside table. Of course, it is unnecessary for you even to read the messages. There is a case.

+++++

"Last night in Fredericksburg, a 20-year-old woman, Molly McCarthy, was abducted," J.J. begins, "She's the third to go missing in the last 6 weeks. All disappeared from public places. No one's seen them since until now. A couple days ago, body parts with cigarette burns were recovered from a national park that was once the site of the battle of Chancellorsville."

"Were they able to make an I.D.?" you and Hotch ask simultaneously. Your eyes meet, but he breaks the contact abruptly. Flustered and insecure, you bury your focus deep into the file in front of you. The group discusses the case for a couple of minutes, but you are so concentrated on the papers that you hardly absorb any information they've shared.

There is something familiar about this case to you. Suddenly, realization strikes.

Rejoining the discussions, you say, "I remember reading about a case like this in Spotsylvania county. Similar markings on the bone. It was the winter of 1980, also in Fredericksburg. There were 5 women aged 16 to 24. They were buried in pieces."

"Same markings. Same civil war battlefield," J.J. responds in agreement.

The team agrees that this could be the works of the same killer. There are aspects of the more recent killings that would be impossible to copycat since those details had never been released to the public. But, if this is the same unsub, what's he been doing for the past 27 years?

+++++

Hotch focuses on the road while you watch out the window of the passenger seat. Occasionally, you sneak the odd peek at him. His stoicism is alluring, and you find yourself drawn to this demeanor like a moth to a flame. Piecing together the tiny glimpses you've collected thus far as if working on a mental puzzle, you scrutinize his attributes. His eyes bare the beginnings of crow's feet. Only his sideburns tease the speckling of salt and pepper undertones. His lips turn downwards at the corners, no doubt from years of scowling at unsubs.

Reid speaks up from behind you both and breaks your train of thought. Probably for the better, there's no reason why you should examine your unit chief so intently.

"It's funny--he always dumps the bodies in this battlefield, no matter what the risk."

"It's a respected landmark. He's flaunting," Aaron reckons.

"It makes him feel important," you say in agreement.  

Once you have arrived at the crime scene, you follow Agent Hotchner closely. Reid trails ahead, most likely trying to keep up with his own train of thought.

"How does someone not see or hear them?" You ask the sheriff.

He turns to you with a defeated expression, "It was dark. He had the advantage. Molly's boyfriend was the last person to see her. He said she was alone for a minute, maybe less."

Hotch surveys the surroundings, "He's patient and works fast."

"He's perfected his M.O.," Reid states while looking around.

You cross your arms as a wave of unease gets the best of you as you envision the moments leading to Molly's attack.

"If our unsub's pushing 60, he's gotta be strong enough to carry her a long way without her struggling," you bring out.

Hotch looks to you with a concerned squint. You shake your head, signaling to him that it's nothing you can't get under control. He nods in response. The sheriff agrees to point out the various entrances to the park.

"I'll catch up with you," your Unit Chief states. He motions for you to step aside with him, and you comply.

"You know, ever since my wife and I had our son, I dread receiving cases involving children," he discloses to you.

Tears well up in your eyes, "I can't even imagine, but sir, why are you telling me this?"

"This job will inevitably strike close to home on some cases more than others. It's okay for you to feel overwhelmed by it all every once and a while," he assures you.

"You never lose it, though."

He sighs heavily, "Maybe I should have."

Shortly before you joined the BAU, Hotch's wife Haley left with their son Jack. You never ask questions or stick your nose where it doesn't belong. It isn't your place, and you can't blame him for not wanting to bring his family struggles to work. He deals with enough broken families on the job as it is. Mixing his own personal life into the field would only make it more challenging to prioritize. Despite all this, you cannot help but wonder what exactly led to his and his wife's separation. You hope that they can find their way back to each other. The crimes you investigate do not need to claim the Hotchner's as victims as well.

+++++

"I'll let you talk to Chrissy Wilkenson," Hotch directs you towards the kitchen. You wipe your sweaty palms against the fabric of your pants and make your way into the kitchen, Hotch following closely behind you.

"Mrs. Wilkenson," you say gently, "My name is Y/F/N. I have just a few questions about your husband. Where does Charlie usually go when he's stressed?"

"The barn," she stutters. You can tell she's anxious and afraid for the well-being of her family.

"Anywhere else, Chrissy?"

Hotch is called into the other room, and you continue questioning Chrissy. She's becoming overwhelmed, so you guide her to the dining room.

"I know this is difficult, Chrissy."

"Did the father of my child really do that to those poor women?" She cradles her baby bump.

Your heart breaks for her, and you choose to remain silent. Sometimes saying nothing speaks louder than words.

Footsteps bound throughout the house, and Hotch appears in the doorway, "The sheriff will stay here with Mrs. Wilkenson. We need you with us."

Standing up from your chair, you place your hand atop Chrissy's, "History doesn't have to repeat itself." It is almost as if she could tell you were reading her thoughts. The endless whispers that cloud her mind making her feel like she's left with only one choice, but there's always another option. That is all you are trying to remind her of.

+++++

As you and your team trek through the forest, you see a clearing.

"Hotch, this way," you beckon him to pursue your course.

Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, and you stop in your tracks. You make eye contact with Hotch and mirror each other's actions, dashing towards the opening in the trees. Your heart pounds in rhythm with your footsteps colliding against the ground. It is clear to you from your exchange with Chrissy at the house that the origin of the gunshot will shock everyone but yourself. As you reach the clearing and rush down the hill, your speculation is validated.

Chrissy Wilkenson is standing over the body of her husband, the unsub. A traumatized young man haunted by his father's past and plagued by the idea that children are trapped in the endless cycles created by their parents.

I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Jesus. Now is not the time for that.

The newly widowed woman claims self-defense, yet the cops handcuff her anyways. Inside, you feel conflicted while watching her get into the back of the squad car.

Hotch appears by your side but remains silent. Again, sometimes silence speaks louder than words. You bit your lip, attempting to hide the fact that it is trembling.

"What did you say to her as you were leaving the dining room?"

"I told her that history does not have to repeat itself. I wanted her to know that even when it feels like you are backed into a corner, there is always another way out. Sometimes people don't know where to look for their out thought," you quiver.

He lightly touches your arm and gives you a reassuring tilt of the head, "Just know that you did everything you could. We will never do this job perfectly. Doing the right thing usually costs more than it pays. You did your part.  I'm not a saint, and I am far from a hero, but I have integrity and honor, and I do this job to the best of my ability."

"If you can leave a case with a clear conscience," he continues, "you know you did the best you could. Any other thought process will eat away at you slowly but surely, and ultimately, it will result in the demise of your career and destruction of yourself."

+++++

After a seemingly neverending day, you all arrive back at Quantico.

"I could really go for a drink, guys. What do you say? Newbie's buying," you wave your wallet around frivolously.

"I could go for 5 drinks!" Prentiss exclaims.

"Count me in," Morgan winks at you. He never fails to make you blush.

Reid hesitates and you pout your bottom lip, "Please Reid! How could you not want a repeat of Dolly Parton night last month?"

Hotch comes down the stairs, "Dolly Parton night? Do I want to know?"

You and Derek snicker to each other as Spencer attempts to diffuse his own embarassment.

"9 to 5 is an iconic female anthem that certainly has a rather bewitching affect on a man when mixed with alcohol."

"You only drank Diet Coke that night," you roll your eyes at him.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Hotch forcing his way through the small group formed around the desks.

Making your way over to him, you invite him to join, "Want a beer?" You second guess yourself, but it seems as though his rather stern expression softens ever so slightly when he pivots on his heels to look at you.

"I would like that," he answers softly.

He immediately returns to his original path and hovers near the glass doors. You casually make your way over to him, joined by Dave and Emily. A man barges in through the glass doors announcing Aaron's name.

"Agent Hotchner?"

"Yes," the subject in question breaths out almost defeatedly.  

The yellow package he holds in his hands is all too familiar and instantly churns your stomach into knots. You gnaw at your bottom lip, drawing a metallic taste that causes you to cringe.

"What is it?" Emily speaks up.

There's no question as to what it is. Oh Hotch. I’m so sorry.

Hotch's eyes trace the package from corner to corner in disbelief, "Haley's filing for divorce. I've been served."

When he eventually takes his eyes off of the lettering, his eyes meet yours. They lock onto you and it is in that moment that you feel as though you have been given the key to unlock his soul. His eyes are so unusual at this moment; they are more vulnerable than you have ever seen. The stoic man is gone, and instead, it is the eyes of one who is in tremendous pain. You had mistaken his bloodshot eyes for physical fatigue on the plane, but now you see that it is emotional exhaustion as well.

If only you knew how badly I want to hug you and tell you that you won't be swallowed up by this darkness. There's a long road ahead, but you have so many people here who love you and are here to support you through this. You aren't alone. Trust me, I know.

In some way, you pray that he can read into your soul and see the pain you feel for him. Once more, your shared silence proves to speak for itself.  

At last, he breaks eye contact with you and finally releases the breath that you had been holding in. Dave grabs onto your arm, seeing the clear impact Hotch's news has on you, no doubt having also noticed Hotch's immediate response in looking at you.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I can join you tonight," he excuses himself and escapes to the seclusion of his office.

Maybe history does have a way of repeating itself.

Tag List:

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[jediken0bi]

At The End Of The Day

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary:

Reid is scared his Job is eventually going to take away the thing he loves the most. You.

word count: 2023

-

Spencer sat on the counter in the kitchen, sipping on his sugary coffee and watching you move around the room. You decided you wanted homemade Waffles this morning and Spencer made the quick decision to not even attempt to lend a helping hand. He usually ends up burning half of the food anyway so you're not complaining.

And if you're being honest you liked being able to do something nice for him while he relaxes. It's not like that's something you get to see all that often.

You really only get to have Spencer to yourself on the Weekends and even then your time together isn't always guaranteed.

That's something you guys struggled with a lot. He even more so than you now that you think about it. He is so quick to beat himself up over not being able to spend more time with you and it breaks your heart.

Of course you would like to see your boyfriend more often but you know how much he loves his Job and you would never ask him to quit or hold his crazy schedule against him.

After all, it's not Spencers fault serial killers don't take the weekends off.

You throw little glances at Spencer every time you add a little bit of batter into the Waffle Maker and each time you find him already looking at you with loving eyes and a silly smile plastered on his face.

You can't help but giggle a bit before shaking your head lightly.

There are certainly days where you can't wrap your head around the fact that the genius with the pretty face feels the same affection towards you as you do.

Another minute goes by before he puts his coffee down, pushes himself off the counter and walks over to you to carefully wrap his arms around your waist.

"Someone is awfully cuddly this morning", you say with a huge smile on your face. You lean into his touch so he knows you don't actually mind the closeness.

He still has days where he can't tell whether or not you're making a lighthearted joke or are trying to reject his advances. It took him a long time to be able to initiate physical contact without you having to make the first move or ask for it.

That's not because he didn't love you though. He simply didn't know what to do in a relationship.

He was trying to figure out the do's and don't's and you were more than happy to help him learn and understand what it means to be truly loved by someone.

Nowadays he doesn't hesitate to seek comfort in your arms and there's nothing you can think of that makes you happier than that.

All you ever wanted was for Spencer to feel at home with you.

He put his head on your shoulder and smiled into the crease of your neck

"I can't help it. I haven't seen you in 8 days, 5 hours and 24 minutes and now that i'm here i don't wanna waste a single second of it"

You silently put the last Waffle on the plate you set out and turned your head so you could face him.

You try to catch his eyes and as soon as you do, you press a light peck onto his pink lips.

"I missed you so much", you say while he softly grabs your waist to turn you around positioning you so that you're facing him.

He presses gentle kisses to your forehead, your nose, your cheek and suddenly stops right before your lips.

"I missed you too, my love"

Before you can form an answer he plants a firm and loving kiss on your lips making you forget about breakfast for a second.

But only for a second.

You start smiling into the kiss and lightly push him away. The distance between you two only big enough to let you catch your breath before you laugh and say

"Let's go eat. We haven't had breakfast together in a bit and i wanna cuddle on the couch and watch some Doctor Who"

He laughs and nods his head so his short curls fall into his face.

You bite your lip to suppress a grin before tucking the lose strand of hair behind his ear.

He reaches behind you to grab the plate and makes his way towards the couch you two picked out just over a month ago.

You follow him immediately, feeling giddy that you get to cuddle your boyfriend for the first time in days.

He puts the plate down, plops down on the couch and immediately opens his arms to invite you to get comfortable in them.

While you snuggle into his chest he grabs the remote and starts queuing Doctor Who Episodes for you guys to watch and analyze together.

You wrap your arms around his torso and bury your head into his neck. You sigh happily and plant tiny kisses on his shoulder and neck.

He tightens one of his arms around you and starts playing with your hair

-time skip-

Almost three hours later, the waffles long gone, you get up to get some drinks for the two of you.

As the credits to the third episode start rolling you can't help but notice that Spencer had gotten unusually quite.

You sit down next to him, put a hand on his arm and ask with a calm voice

"Baby what's wrong? You got so quiet and it looks like something's bothering you. Did something happen at work? Did the case end bad? Whatever it is Spencer i want to be there for you"

He looks at you with wide eyes. Almost like a kid with his hand stuck in the cookie jar. He looks guilty and it's making you nervous. You know you can't push him but you would be lying if you said you weren't worried.

He looks down for a second unsure of his next move. He takes a deep breath and hesitantly turns around to look at you.

Your hand immediately finding its place on your boyfriends jaw. Running your thumb over his stubble in a calming matter.

He leans into your touch and closes his eyes for a second.

You knew that he would eventually start talking so you had no problem patiently waiting for him to summon the courage to say whatever was on his mind.

"I was talking to Morgan the other day and he said something that got me thinking. Actually, i think it's fair to say that thinking turned into overthinking really quick. Although i don't know anymore. At this point, it might be a completely valid fear and i'm just trying to convince myself it's not. Of course you could apply that logic the other way around as well but - I'm rambling, aren't it", he says in pretty much one breath.

You show him a understanding smile and say,

"Yeah but it's okay. I want to hear what's on your mind. No matter how confusing"

He looks up at me and smiles with sad eyes

"I know you do and that's why the thought of ever losing you drives me completely insane"

You stare at him for a moment not understanding why he would be thinking of losing you before taking his hand into yours and asking

"Spence, do you want to tell me what you and Morgan talked about?"

He sighs loudly and runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

Looking straight at you he decides 'Now or Never'.

"He just broke up with his girlfriend and we were all trying to be there for him. He seemed completely fine but you never know with Morgan so i went to talk to him about the break up and he just smiled at me and said 'It is what it is, Pretty Boy. Relationships are doomed to break in our line of profession. Enjoy it while it lasts' "

he tells you doing a weird impression of Derek.

Under different circumstances you would've laughed.

You look at Spencer with a small smile on your face. He looks so distressed, you can't help but run your hand through his curls and climb into his lap.

He doesn't waste a second wrapping his arms around you to secure your position and before he can question you, you say

"So that's what this is about? You thinking i might leave you because of your Job?"

He shakes his head slightly and looks up to meet your eyes

"No this is about you deserving a boyfriend who doesn't spend 90% of his time a couple of states away from you every week. It's about me not wanting to make you feel like you come second when there's nothing that's more important to me than you. I would quit my Job if you asked me to. There's plenty of Jobs out there but no one quite like you. I hate to think that you might come to resent me for being away so much"

You run your hand through his curls again and smile softly. It's your turn to shake your head.

"What i deserve is a boyfriend who loves me for who i am. Someone who cares about my feelings and thoughts. Someone who doesn't mind binge watching Doctor Who with me on the weekends because i like that way better than going out. Someone who reads my favorite book so we can have a conversation about it. Someone who shows me how much he cares every single day. And i already have all that. I don't need anything or anyone else. I promise."

Spencers eyes are shut tightly and he leans his forehead on yours. He presses a light kiss to your nose and wistfully admits

"I'm just so scared my Job is going to take you away one day"

You wrap your arms around his neck and whisper

"I know a thing or two about that. Baby, you do so much good in the World. I couldn't be more proud if i tried. Let me ask you something. You like your Job, right? Despite everything it asks of you?"

He nods softly and opens his eyes

"I love my Job. Helping people gives me a chance to make a real change. It's what i've always wanted to do."

You smile at him and hum in agreement

"That's right. And you love me too, right?", you ask cheekily

He looks at you like you hung the moon, grabs your hand to press a soft kiss against it and says

"Of course i do. More than anything"

You once again nod in agreement.

"Then you have to understand that the World isn't always 'This or That'. I would never ask you to quit your job for me. I wouldn't want that. I love you too much to take away the thing that fulfills you and makes you happy. Relationships take work, Spencer. I'm not saying it won't be rough sometimes but at the end of the day you're my Clark Kent to the BAU's Superman and i wouldn't change a thing"

He looks at you with loving eyes that are glazed over with unshed tears and whispers

"I'm going to marry you one day, i promise. I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you that you're loved beyond compare"

He starts covering your face in kisses resulting in you laughing at his antics.

This wasn't the first time you two talked about marriage. You knew that he was the man you were going to walk down the aisle to. There wasn't a doubt in your mind.

You push him back down on the couch so you can lay down on his chest and say

"Now that we've established that you looove me, i think it's time for you to start the next episode. It's my favorite!"

You said it in a mocking voice but it genuinely did make your heart beat faster and he knew that.

"Damn straight i do", he says as he reaches for the remote.

Weekends with Spencer are simply the best.

[angelswithcigarettes]

“To find a way to cope”

Summary: Morgan finds Spencer's notebooks filled with partly disturbing drawings and poems and learns once again how much of what Spencer feels he doesn't know how to express and how much happened in his childhood he never talks about.

AU: [This is an AU in which Morgan and Reid share a house (as friends). The parts can be read independently.]

Warnings: Past Sexual Abuse

Relevant Tags: Autistic Spencer Reid, Suicidal Thoughts

Word Count: 4626

First Chapter:

Notes: Since this series is the follow up serious to another one of mine "Green" (I will link it in the endnote) there can be some confusion if you haven't read it. But here is a short summary of it so you don't have to read it all and can still 'enjoy' this:

In the story "Green" Spencer gets together with Lola who abuses him following up this abuse he stays with Morgan who helps him recover as much as that is possible. Spencer doesn't want to go back to his apartment so Morgan decides that it is time for a change, they move in together in one of the houses Morgan renovated ones.

They each have their own privacy, their own floors including bathrooms and bedrooms and each of them has their own office but its not a secret to anyone that they also don't have much privacy because at some part after living together for so many years the embarrassment or shame for many things just faded.

However when Morgan picks up a box of books in the basement while looking for his old baseball equipment he feels bad when he looks inside of them.

They are notebooks, written in with black ink and he can tell that it's Spencer handwriting. There is a date on the corner, the note book is hardly a month old. He puts it away and grabs one from further down, revealing another date from eight years ago and he opens up a random page and starts reading.

"And if you look at me

Look at me for another moment

See me

If you really see me

Can you look at me the same again."

It's seems to be an attempt of poetry and Morgan opens another page finding a scetch of a person. Also in blank ink. Their hands scratching at their eyes, looking like they are screaming.

He reads another poem.

"Can you hear me screaming?

Did you hear me screaming for you? You hands burning my skin,you hands burning my innocence.

Can you hear me screaming?

In the latest night, can you hear me screaming?

Did you hear him burning my skin, his hands burning my innocence."

Morgan can feel an unsettling feeling spread through his body, these are too old to be from the time with Lola, judging by the date he must have been in his early twenties.

He looks into another notebook finding a lot of sketches and a few of them look similar to people Morgan had seen before, he figures they are unsubs and then he opens another scatch and it looks like a women, warning a gun holster and having a glass in her hand, her hair shoulder long and judging by the date this is Elle.

Morgan picks up another one, it is dated for approximately a year ago. The drawing shows their house but the windows are barricaded with wood and nails, only a light shining out of Morgan's room and a kitten is sitting in front of their doorstep, skinny and looking up to the doorbell handing in front of the door that is also barricaded.

The next one is a drawing from their kitchen and it shows Morgan, at least he thinks so, sitting at the table with his hand on his head the other around a coffee cup and on the kitchen counter are files stacked and the kitchen table is filled with overflowing cups.

There is a third, showing their bathroom and there is a liquid on the floor,again every drawing is held black ink but he guesses its blood and a handprint on the mirror and in front of the puddle and then there is a hand sticking out from behind the curtain from which the liquid drops down.

The fourth is what makes Morgan want take the notebook with him, it's a man standing in the door and by the tattoos he can make out that it is supposed to be him but he is wearing a mask and he is holding Spencer's stuff animal in his hand while wearing only Jean's and boots no shirt. Morgan can make out that this is supposed to be Spencer's room.

The worst he finds in that notebook is one of a women, sitting on a chair, her head leaned back and her arms sliced open, blood dripping down on the floor and by the necklace, the gun at her hip and the long slightly curly hair Morgan dares to assume that this is supposed to be JJ.

He puts the notebook aside and pulls out one from the time when he started at the BAU and the first drawing is of a little boy with glasses standing in the bullpen that is crowded with files. The second is a room filled with bees at the wall and an empty chair in the middle.

Morgan knew Spencer can draw he didn't know how well he does.

There are a few sketches of Morgan and Gideon and a lot of JJ. And many butterflies and with the ripped out pages in between he guessed that he draw them for her.

He quickly puts everything away when he hears Spencer walking down the stairs but goes back down to grab the one with the poem about the 'burning hands' the one with the sketch from Elle and the one with the drawings from the house and the women on the chair and for weeks he hides them in his office and eventually started profiling a few of them but quickly stopped that, feeling uncomfortable.

"What are you drawing?" He asks stepping into Spencer's office and the man shuts the notebook again.

"I don't draw."

"You don't?"

"No, I haven't in years."

"You haven't?"

"No, I am horrible at that." Morgan steps closer and it fits what he had found downstairs. The little pencil case open, only black pens inside and a pencil with a rubber. "What did you want?"

"Nothing just wanted to check in on you." Looking over he sees another stack of papers, and in a box next to his desk watercolours. "Its getting pretty stuffed in here."

"I like it. And I would like for you to leave now."

"I will." Apologetic Morgan takes his hands up and leaves the room.

There is a high chance that Spencer knows himself that his drawings are concerning and that that is the reason he is so defensive over people knowing he draws.

He keeps his findings a secret for a few more days until he gets to concerned and tries again talking to him about it but the moment he takes the word drawings in his mouth Spencer denies having drawn in the last years and accuses him of having sniffed around his office for things he draw as a teenager.

So he takes the notebooks and in a quiet moment walks up to Hotch's office who is similar concerned by them. For him the worst is one of Spencer himself, someone pressing a hand over his mouth and him into a pillow next to a poem about the lyrical I suffocating.

"There are more that hint at sexual abuse."

"He has a history we know that."

"Some are older than what happened with Lola."

"Did you try talking to him about these?"

"He claims he hasn't drawn in years." Hotch looks further through it finding more and more thinks he finds concerning.

"There are quite a lot of you."

"That's why I am here. I was hoping he maybe would rather talk to you about it. I can't explain why the drawings are portraying me like that." Hotch looks down on the page of a drawing of Morgan laying on the couch, the TV running but he is sleeping. On the table a ashtray with smoke coming from it on the floor next to the couch, multiple books that block his way and lianas hanging from the ceiling one close to curling itself completely around his neck.

"You have a theory?"

"My first guess was that something in the house made him feel captured, or even me but I am not sure."

"I would actually say that it's the opposite. That he feels like he captures you."

"Me?"

"This doesn't look like he is the one captured." He points at another painting showing Morgan standing in the kitchen, one half of his body having spiders all over it his other side being completely normal beside the fingers that in the end turn into bees and more bees flying away from it. "Are you okay?"

"You see this drawings and you ask if I am okay?"

"Besides that these drawing are definitely not something that leave you unaffected there are a few that a showing you in a vulnerable state he probably saw this before drawing it in his own interpretation."

"I am fine, I don't know why he draws me like that."

"Alright I will talk to him about it." Morgan initially wanted to go to JJ with this but she really doesn't need to see the drawings of herself being death by suicide. There is the one on the chair but also one hanging out of a tree with wings on her back.

For Hotch the most disturbing once are the two from a child, being beaten and in the other drawing having wings sitting on top of a clip, stars around them.

Morgan brings him the other notebooks too and in the earlier once its clear that he draws what he sees on cases and around himself. The poems not so much.

But the younger the note books the more it concerns his friends and random children.

Hotch doesn't find many of himself, but there is a notebook around the time Emily died that breaks his heart and when she came back the drawings change to something with more anger and eventually one that shows Spencer and him sitting in his office, Spencer looking at Hotch, Hotch doing the same but behind Hotch stands Emily or JJ he can't tell having a hand on his shoulder and covering his mouth while Spencer has a ghost behind him, covering his eyes.

He thinks long about if he wants to talk to him about the notebooks because Spencer seems to use this to cope and that is a good thing no matter how violent they look but on the other hand it seems like something is really bothering him so after weeks of debating he hands Morgan the box back saying that it feels wrong for him to interfere and Morgan first gets angry but then agrees that it is better if he first talks to him and then can offers Spencer to talk to Hotch if he rather wants that.

So eventually Morgan breaks the ice at a dinner picking up the box and placing it on the table. "You know what this is?"

"A box"

"You know what's in it?" He asks and Spencer nods with worry in his eyes. "I found it in the basement while cleaning it out."

"Did you-" Nervous he bites on the inside of his lip.

"I did"

"They are mine" He tells him, the fear clearly audible in his voice.

"I know, I am just a little bit worried about you, there is some pretty dark stuff in there."

"You weren't supposed to see."

"But I did and I just want to make sure that everything is alright."

"Yes they are just drawings."

"They are not just drawings."

"And poems."

"Not what I mean kid" Morgan grabs the notebook on top and sits down in front of him opening the page with the drawing of their house. "Is this our house?"

"Yes"

"Can you tell me why you draw this?" Spencer shrugs ones, tears in his eyes. "These are yours and I am not judging you or am mad I just think that some of these, because this notebook was finished a few weeks ago, need talking about. And I am just trying to help you."

"I don't know why I draw this."

"What about the cat? Is that Garfield?" Garfield is an old cat they adapted years ago and died.

"Yes"

"You still miss him?"

"Sometimes I wish he comes home again but then nothing is open here anymore."

"Garfield is dead and even if he wasn't dead when we got the call he would be by now." Morgan tells him in a gentle voice. "So this is about Garfield not coming back in,not you feeling captured in here?"

A nod.

"See that's why I think talking about this is good because I completely miss interpreted this."

"Did you see all of them?"

"Yes"

"All of them?"

"Yeah, I looked through them." He nods and then a tears rolls down his face. "Come on we go over to the couch for this, we cuddle up with your stuff lion and we talk about these, you can lean against me no need to look me in the eyes or for me to see your face." Morgan over the years found out that that is what makes him feel the most comfortable while talking. Either on car rides when Morgan can't tear his eyes from the road or while walking somewhere or placed so that Morgan isn't looking into his face.

Spencer ignores the offer to get his stuff animal from upstairs but he takes the thick blanket while Morgan pulls out the cautions from underneath making the couch bigger and then leans against him and Morgan opens the next page.

It's the drawing from Morgan in the kitchen, the files everywhere and the cups on the table. "What's with the Cubs?"

"I don't remember."

"Mr I have an eidetic memory that's very hard to believe."

"Sometimes everything gets dirty in our kitchen."

"And that bothers you?"

"I try cleaning it but it seems like it doesn't get better even when everything is properly stored."

"And the files?"

"It always happens when we have many cases after another and then it isn't fun coming home anymore."

"Because its dirty?"

"Because it's all tight" He tries to explain how the house feels to him. "We can't move in here."

"Is that the same thing you wanted to express with this?" Morgan asks opening the page of him laying on the couch with the lianas from the ceiling.

"Yes and- and that I- that I take your energy away."

"Okay one point after the other, what is it with the house being to tight? We have a lot of space and a lot of garden and everything, what makes it tight?"

"I don't know sometimes it just is." He tells him moving his head back on Morgan's arm shutting his eyes for a moment and then breathing in deeply.

"We don't have to do this all now if its to much for you" He tells him worried about how this affects Reid. "You just explain it the best way you think I will see about the rest."

"You won't get me."

"I do, it's tight in here sometimes, like you can't move."

"Yes"

"And cleaning doesn't help"

"Yes"

"See not that bad"

"It makes me feel bad." He continues and then hits his thigh ones. "Like I need to run."

"Like you need to run?"

"Yes. Like I have to move. Like my legs haven't moved enough."

"Because it's to tight in here?"

"Yes."

"What about you taking my energy away? What do you mean by that?" Spencer turns his head away not looking at the page but then eventually speaks.

"I am really not an easy friend."

"For me you are."

"No I am not."

"You are not taking my energy away."

"You could do a lot more thinks if it wasn't for me." Spencer justifies his statement.

"Like what?" But he just shakes his head still facing away from him and Morgan tries encouraging him to talk to Hotch but Spencer denies the offer so Morgan moves his hand down around his waist and pulls him closer again. "C'mon you did so good with the first drawings and we won't have to talk about this one any more we can just move on to another.”

Rest on Ao3 (I can’t post more words in here I’m sorry):

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters |  Chapter 4: Saying Sorry is a Virtue

Hello my beautiful souls!!

I hope this of you who celebrate Christmas had and amazing time, and those if you who don't had a great Friday!

I had a really chill holiday, and although I was supposed to be home and that didn't happen, I'm still glad I had a good time. I got a watch for Christmas and I'm obsessed!!

Anyway, I also wanted to let you guys know I'll be posting the story on Wattpad, and thanks to @meowiemari I also have a cover. I have attached it below! My wattpad user is @criminalminds4days so feel free to follow and read along!

Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It's one of my favorites. 💙💙

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.6k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

*************************************************

(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 4: Saying Sorry is a Virtue

It had been a little over three months since her absolute wrecking of the family retreat. She had managed to get her mom to get past it, and though she had promised to apologize to the rest of her aunts and uncles, she had not gotten around (well, more like she didn't think it was necessary, they probably had already forgotten, and she did actually mean every word she said).

Her team and she had evaded more danger than possible in the last couple of weeks, and she had a feeling today she would not be returning to her bed to sleep. She also had to figure out what she wanted to get Spencer for his birthday. She was so excited to celebrate with him that she wanted to spill her idea of a surprise birthday party to him, but she needed to remain strong. She just hoped he would like it, and that she could find something to give him. She knew him so much better now and had so many things that he would like, but she wanted this gift to be unique, something that reminded him of her. Not that she wanted him thinking about her all the time because that would be weird, but maybe once in a while?

A knock on her door made her get out of her head. She walked to see Tyler Hemingway standing on the other side.

"Can I come in?"

"Why?"

"I just-" He looked at the floor, nervous. "I was just hoping we could talk."

"We can talk right here, what do you want?"

"I just wanted to say I am sorry, for what happened."

"What exactly? That you humiliated me in front of my family, or that your wife called me and my boyfriend liars."

"All of it, I should have known better."

"Yes, you should have." She debated whether to say something else but decided against it. "I honestly don't understand where this is coming from, it was two years ago."

"I know, and I am also sorry it has taken me so long to say anything. I just didn't know how to approach the situation, and what we had was so special, I wish I hadn't ruined it."

She had waited to hear those words for so long that how wrong what she did, didn't occur to her until the damage had been done. Even if her feelings for the man in front of her were not the same as they were two years ago, those words were enough to make her become less hostile towards him. She let Tyler in, forgetting Spencer was waiting for her to pick him up in about twenty minutes.

"Spencer? Why are you late?"

"Because she didn't pick me up like she was supposed to. I assumed she may be running a little late, so I waited and then I called her, but it went straight to voicemail." He responded to Emily.

"That is so not like her, should we be worried?"

"I don't know, but I already am, maybe we should go see if she's home or something."

The elevator doors opened once again as Spencer and Emily were preparing themselves to raid her house in order to find her. She stepped out, a look of immense guilt present as her eyes landed on the brunette. He did not seem upset, more like relieved she was there. Emily dropped her jacket and embraced her, a huge weight lifting off her shoulders after seeing her. When she was released from the woman's hug, she directed her eyes back to him.

"I am so sorry; I was on my way-" before she could explain Aaron Hotchner told them to join the rest of the team at the round table to discuss the next case.

"This one is a bad one," JJ said as she read through the file. "These people are killing families. Not even the children are spared."

"Yeah, and it's only getting worse." Said Penelope as she shared the pictures of the crime scenes. She wished she could concentrate but Spencer kept glancing at her with worry. He knew something wasn't right, but she didn't know how to explain it without sounding like she was digging herself in a bigger hole.

She avoided him on the jet, as she pretended to be asleep and then engaged in a very interesting conversation with JJ about diapers and toddlers. As much as she loved the blonde, she sometimes didn't appreciate learning all these baby facts, it took the wishes to have children away faster than anything else.

She was now in a black SUV, with Spencer in the back seat and Emily driving. She sat in the front seat as they drove towards the hospital. One of the girls had been spared and they were hoping to talk to her about the unsubs.

"So, why were you late this morning?" Emily questioned, "You left Cinderella over there without his carriage."

"Yeah, I know. I am so sorry Spencer."

"It's okay, I just got worried."

"I know, and I am so sorry." She took a deep breath, preparing to explain to them why she had been delayed. "I just got some unexpected company this morning."

"Was it Anna?"

"No, she has been radio silent for these past couple of months, I'm assuming she is building a bulletproof alibi for when she decides to murder me."

"Is there something I should know about?" Emily asked as she stole glances at her.

"Spencer and I went to my family retreat a couple of months ago and when we were there I may or may not have basically told my aunts and uncles to go fuck themselves."

"You explicitly told them to do so." Spencer clarified.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because they all sucked. Emily if you would have been there, you would have done the same." Spencer responded. "But going back to the main topic, who came to your apartment today? Was it your mom?"

"We need to have a conversation about this whole family retreat thing!" The woman behind the steering wheel complained.

"I will tell you all about it tonight." She assured her. "And no, Spence, it wasn't my mom, it was someone a little closer to Anna."

"Her mom?"

"No, Tyler."

There was no response to that, Spencer looked like he didn't know exactly what he was feeling, while Emily seemed like she had returned to watch her favorite show only to find out she missed a whole season, and she had no idea what happened to the storyline she was following.

"Who's Tyler?"

"Anna's husband." She clarified, "he came to apologize for everything, and to say that he didn't think what Anna did was okay."

Reid scoffed, "and you believe him?"

"He seemed very genuine about it."

"Unbelievable."

"I am so lost right now."

"Spencer, are you upset about this?"

"Me? Why should I? It's not like I pretended to be your boyfriend to prevent him from making you feel any worse than he had already, and you ended up right back at where you started."

"Are you implying I slept with him?"

"I never said that."

"Well then what are you saying? Because need I remind you, he is a married man. I would never do something like that." She crossed her arms, becoming defensive of the situation. "He simply wanted to talk, so I listened. It was a conversation, and it's just going to be a dinner. Nothing more."

"Oh, so you're going on a date with him too?"

"It's not a date! Did I not mention he was married?! To another woman!"

"Being with someone else has never stopped him before."

"What is happening right now?" Emily asked, to no one in particular.

"Seriously Spencer?"

"Did I lie?"

"Why are you so worked up about this? It doesn't even concern you."

"I am upset, because even after he told you in front of all your family that he was in love with your cousin and married her, breaking your heart, he says, 'I'm sorry' and suddenly he's back on the top of your priority list." He spits out, his emotions running high.

"This man did what now?" Both looked at Prentiss as if remembering she was there all along.

"I can't believe you just said that! I confided in you."

"And I trusted you."

"It was one day! I forgot to pick you up one day and suddenly I am the worst person on this planet, really?"

"Are you seriously so oblivious to think this is about some stupid ride?"

"Guys,"

"No? Then what is this about? Is this about me making you look bad or something?"

"No, it's about the fact that after all we've been through and the fact that I have done all I can to help you and be there for you I am still less important than Tyler fucking Hemingway."

"Guys,"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Guys,"

"It doesn't even matter anymore, enjoy your dinner." He undid his seat belt. "Why didn't you tell me we were here Emily?"

"I have been trying."

"Let's go then." He said as he exited the SUV marching up to the hospital entrance.

"What is his problem?" She asked Emily, still heated by the discussion.

"Well,-"

Before Prentiss could respond she was cut off. "I mean, yes, this guy broke my heart but that doesn't mean I have to hold a grudge forever, right? I might as well move past it, don't you think?"

"If you ask me-"

"And it was one conversation, and we're going out to dinner to finish it, there is nothing wrong with that. I don't know why he got so worked up about it, do you?"

"Yeah-"

"You know what, screw Spencer, if he wants to be a jerk for no fucking reason, let him do it. I am not going to lose sleep over it, nor am I gonna give him explanations. Who the hell does he think he is?"

"I think-"

"Yeah, you're right Emily, when Reid decides to get his shit together he can talk to me, in the meantime, we need to find out who these unsubs are before they hurt anyone else." She undid her seatbelt and opened the door, Emily still sitting there, trying to figure out what the heck had just happened. "Aren't you coming?"

"Yeah, sure." She followed suit and they both entered the hospital. Spencer was speaking to the girl's nurse as they approached, he didn't make any comments, but he also didn't acknowledge her, nor invite her into the conversation as he did to Emily. He was acting professional and doing his job, but his stance and emotions were very clear by the lack of interactions between them unless it was absolutely necessary.

As soon as Emily entered the room to interview the victim, the silence that engulfed them made her heart tighten. Spencer and she had gone past this already, they were friends, there was never a silent moment between them, and now all of that seemed to vanish in the air, all because of her decision to let Tyler Hemingway apologize.

She chose to ignore the situation until further notice. Emily was right, Spencer was being a dramatic prick and she was just gonna give him the time to realize that he was wrong. So when she got to bed, grateful for a bit of peace knowing one of the killers had been identified and was going to be caught soon, the last thing she wanted to do was have a conversation with Emily about the topic this same one had told her to not think about.

"I didn't say to just ignore it. As a matter of fact, I didn't get one sentence out during the whole drive to the hospital."

"That can't be true."

"Oh, but it was. Now I know how Reid felt when Gideon left." She fixed her shirt and continued, "well, regardless, what happened between you and Tyler, and what exactly does Dr. Genius know?"

"Spence knows pretty much everything, it kind of came with the territory." She recounted the story and this time she didn't leave any detail out, well, almost didn't leave any detail out.

Emily learned about Anna and their rivalry, Tyler and him choosing her cousin over her, the only thing she never even brought up was her dad. Only Spencer knew about it and she wanted to keep it that way. She finally landed on the weekend in question and the words she had shared with her cousin. Though that wasn't exactly what Prentiss found worrisome.

"You and Reid kissed?! Like on the lips?!" She screamed.

"Yeah, it was just so they would stop bugging us. It's not even the first time we kissed, so why is it a big deal?"

"Wait, you've kissed him before that day?"

"Yeah, at my cousin's wedding."

"Holy shit! I was not expecting that. My OTP is getting all these moments that will eventually lead to the ship sailing and I didn't even know about them!"

"Have you started talking another language by accident or something? I don't understand anything of what you just said."

"Don't worry about it. On a scale of one to ten, how good of a kisser is he?"

"Eleven." She responded immediately, "but that has nothing to do with this whole situation."

"It definitely does! Now it makes sense, Reid thinks you still have feelings for your ex, and he's jealous. He probably doesn't even know it, and he's probably trying to understand why he is so upset with you. Oh my god, he's jealous!"

"Emily, he's not jealous. Spence and I are not dating, we pretended to be a couple." She explained, thinking the woman hadn't understood her.

"Yeah, I know that, but I also know that any fake dating movie or book has always reached a point where the two main characters become unconsciously aware of their feelings. This is it! THIS IS IT!" She shook her and laughed, then suddenly came to a stop. "Oh my god, I am the best friend. I am definitely the friend that gives some wise advice that makes it click in your brain, let me think," she looked around the room as if inspiration would pop out of the bed. "I got it: get your shit together and marry Spencer." She stood and walked out the door, before fully closing it she spoke again, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go talk some sense into our little genius. Love you, hope I am invited to the wedding!"

Though after the break in the case they had found themselves relieved and on their way back, the nagging feeling she called Emily Prentiss kept insisting that both doctors were actually in love and that all they needed to do was kiss and become a couple. It was so constant that even when she wasn't around she could hear her echo. Like right then when she was trying to brush her hair and mentally prepare herself for whatever this dinner with Tyler was going to bring. Though she and Spencer had not yelled or continued to argue, there was nothing else left of their friendship, at least that's what it seemed like. It was as if the past months were a dream and they were just back to being coworkers, and that feeling was burning her up inside. She did not realize how important he had become in her life until he wasn't a part of it anymore.

"You look great," Tyler said as she entered the restaurant.

"Thanks, Spence helped me pick out this shirt when we went to the mall a couple of weeks ago. He said blue always looked good on me."

"That's great." The man responded, clearly uncomfortable. "So, I know you had to leave for work the other day, but I was hoping now we could talk more about what happened between us."

"Yes, of course."

She didn't really understand how she had gotten to the point of having an actual conversation with the man sitting across from her, because she had been angry at him for so long, that it never occurred to her as a possibility. He had once again apologized and given her a tale of how he had let his emotions guide him without realizing he could hurt others, and while that didn't excuse his actions, she still accepted his apology, choosing instead to move on from their current limbo. They had quickly changed the conversation, like if two old friends had reconnected after so long. Tyler was a great friend when he wanted to be, he was pleasant company, to say the least.

"And the other day, Spence was trying to learn to play the piano, and I told him there was no way he could learn in a week. So what did he do? He-"

"Stop, just stop!" He interrupted her, and she furrowed her eyebrows confused. "I have been sitting here for an hour listening to you talk about your stupid boyfriend and his IQ of 187." He rubbed his hands through his face and tried to calm down. "Was this the plan all along? You heard me tell you that I wished I hadn't ruined our relationship and decided playing with me was perfect revenge? Accepting dinner only to humiliate me by ignoring me and choosing to talk about that Spencer guy? Is he in on it or something?"

Oh. My. God.

Reid was right, this man was not looking to mend old friendships or start a new chapter, he was looking for a mistress. 

"You, are the worst type of jerk I have ever met. I actually believed you wanted to be friends, to turn the page but all you wanted was to get in my pants." She stood, grabbing her drink and spilling it over him. "I hope I never see you again. Go fuck yourself Tyler." She walked, but before she exited the restaurant she returned and gave him a fake smile, "and also, Thank you for humiliating me in front of my family, you showed me how little you were and that I could do so much better. Say, an FBI agent with an IQ of 187." Once again she turned and this time she didn't even bother looking back.

The drive to her apartment was long, mostly because she didn't drive there, but to Spencer Reid's home. She felt her palms sweat, she hated admitting she was wrong, but she hated not having Spencer around much more than a bruised ego. She knocked on the door and Spencer opened, he looked confused, but as soon as he registered her in he simply raised an eyebrow and changed his confused demeanor to a completely neutral.

"I came to tell you that you were right. He just wanted to get in pants." There was no response, and she fiddled with her hands. "I actually thought he wanted to apologize, and I think part of me just wanted to believe that for the first time I was not being used, that people actually cared about what I felt."

"There are people that care about you, they are just not the wants you wanted to."

"No, they are! I thought I needed the people who wronged me to fix it, to show me that I was worth the trouble when in reality all I needed was for me to understand that I was. And I just needed a reminder that the people that care about me are the ones that should matter the most." A trace of a smile formed on his lips. "I am so sorry about how I acted, and I am sorry I left you here waiting for me. Spencer Reid, you are my best friend and you come before any other jerk out there. I need you to know that this time in which I didn't have you with me was miserable. I missed you so much I spent the whole dinner with Tyler talking about you."

"You did?" He seemed genuinely surprised.

"Yeah, I did. I missed you, and I hope we never fight again, I don't know what I would do without your friendship."

"I missed you too." She bit her lip, and he smiled. "Wanna come in and watch TV?"

"I would love that."

"That's good to hear, I am trying to get Spence here to watch Dance Moms with me but he refuses, maybe if there is two of us, he'll change his mind." A voice inside his apartment spoke. He opened the door to reveal Emily Prentiss wearing Pjs with The Hunger Games symbols on them. "May I say, you look hot. Blue suits you."

"So I've been told."

"Are you sure you can handle being in that close all night though? Maybe Spencer can lend you one of his shirts." She said, winking at them.

"Has she been drinking?"

"It's her third bottle of wine."

"We need to cut her off."

"Yeah, we do." He smiled at her, "She's right though, if you want to borrow something more comfortable let me know."

"Careful Spencer Reid, I might take you up on that."

"Awwww, YOU TWO ARE ADORABLE!" The woman screamed. "Just get married already!"

The pair laughed and made their way to the sofa, she closed the door behind her and sat down, feeling whole for the first time this week. Emily and Spencer were the best friends a girl could ask for, and she couldn't think of a better way to spend the rest of her night than watching trash TV with the two of them as they laughed and joked.

It was home. 

[spencers-dria]

Entranced by Her Touch

Someone To Stay Ch. 16

Spencer x fem reader

Spencer POV:

"What is all this?" She turns to me, a twinkle of excitement in her eyes.

"Well I know how much music means to you, and I've never had the pleasure of hearing you play."

I see the color drain quickly from her face. "Spencer I...I can't! It's been years! It wound sound..."

"Beautiful. I know anything you play would be beautiful. You'd be surprised how long muscle memory sticks around. You know, muscle memory allows us to do things like swimming or riding a bike without stopping to think or analyze each movement. The longer you played the more likely it will have stuck with you."

"Eight years" she whispers, running her fingers across the top of the keys, lightly enough to not make a sound.

"Eight years that's...wow umm...yeah I think it would be a fair assumption that you probably remember more than you realize, especially pieces you played the most, or that meant the most to you."

I realize the position I have put her in. I don't know why I didn't consider the possibility that she may be too shy to play in front of me. I guess I was just so used to seeing her be completely herself around me.

"Y-you know you r-really don't have to. I'm sorry if I made you feel pressured. If you want we can just..." I feel my confidence fade as I pull at my fingers. I keep my eyes glued to the floor, afraid to face the reality of rejection if I dare to look up. That's before I feel a soft touch on my arm. I look up to see her soft smile and the twinkle that has returned to her eyes. That's all it takes to break down any insecurities building up like walls within me.

"Spencer, I would love to." She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze. "Just give me a minute to do some boring. cheesy scales and stuff. It's been so long. I don't think I can jump in without some kind of warm up."

I turn on my heels and begin to walk off the stage, headed to my seat. I glance over my shoulder to see her propping up the lid and sitting to adjust her dress on the bench. She makes sure to get acquainted with the pedals in her heels. I smile at how happy she looks, how comfortable to be at a piano once again. It doesn't take a profiler to see how much it meant to her. I know I've made the right choice for tonight.

I settle in a seat as she finishes warming up. I can tell she's nervous as she lets out a few deep breaths, vigorously shaking her hands to try to rid them of any tremors that threaten to intrude on her performance. She takes in one last deep breath as she glances over towards me. I give her a smile and thumbs up. She laughs in response, seemingly less nervous. I'm glad I could help her in some capacity, if even for a moment.

https://youtu.be/x5ibvz38jOs

As she places her hands down, she begins to play a soft, lullaby like melody. I see the tension begin to fade away as the song picks up and she gains more confidence. It took me a moment to recognize the song, only because I had been so focused on her. It's a beautiful theme from the Deathly Hallows. How perfectly fitting, seeing as our movie nights brought us so close together.

After a minute or so, her demeanor changes along with the music. It's deeper, darker. Her face becomes more serious as I watch her pour all of herself into the music. I start to feel something, assuming it comes from the bass-like boom of the grand piano as it stretches to fill every crevice of the elaborate theater. My breath hitches in my throat and my eyes start to water. I rub at them, confused by my reaction. I'm sure there's all kinds of dust that's been stirred up.

I continue to watch her, completely mesmerized the way such dainty hands can play with such strength, such emotion. A memory quickly flashes through my mind.

"Music is so much more than just notes, Spencer. It can make you feels things you've never felt, understand your own emotions, or express them."

I had simply taken the comment as something that described her, and how she felt. For the first time I really feel the music resonate with me on an emotional level. I feel wonder and sorrow and enchantment all at once. Is this what she experiences on a regular basis? Is this why she's always listening to music, or talking about it? It's incredible to see the passion she has overflowing so effortlessly into the music.

I had planned this part of the date in an attempt to see her happy, but also to try to understand her in a new way. I never expected to learn or feel this much. She's so much more complex than I could ever fully understand, but I want to try to learn as much about her as I can.

The song quickly changes to another melody I recognize from the movies. I can practically hear the emotion in ever chord. How does she do that?

Before I know it, I'm standing on the stage behind her, unsure of how I got there. She doesn't seem to notice. She is pouring every ounce of herself into the keys.

I take a few steps closer just to be able to observe her hands. As the song slows, I notice her eyes are closed. She's not even looking at the keys anymore as she continues to the end.

She takes a deep breath in and opens her eyes. She looks out to meet my eyes but is met with a seemingly empty room. Anxiety and fear that I have left fill her eyes before I step closer, sliding onto the bench.

"Oh! You scared me for a second" she laughs. "Well, there ya go. I don't know it as well as I used to and there were definitely plenty of mistakes." Her confidence from only a minute ago starts to leak out with every self-criticism.

"Y/N stop." I reach up to turn her face toward me so that she has to look me in the eyes. I want her to see the truth and sincerity in them.

"That was...beautiful." I run my thumb over her cheek, enjoying the softness of her skin, the way she leans into my touch. "You're beautiful." I feel butterflies erupt into a flutter in my stomach at my sudden confession.

Her eyes dart down for only a moment before I see her nerves return. I decide to take a leap of faith as I slide my hand to the back of her neck, locking my fingers in her soft waves. I wait for just a moment, to read her response.

She leans in, resting her forehead against mine, not breaking eye contact. She looks into my eyes like they have the answers to the universe. She leans in just a bit more, nuzzling her nose against mine as her eyes flutter shut. She lets out a breathy giggle and I can't help but smile, laughing with her. There is something unbelievably beautiful about this moment, the racing of our hearts, the shared breath, the softness of her touch. I want to do more than just commit it to memory, like anything else in my life. I want to savor it, the sound of her laugh, the smell of her perfume, the feeling she gives me.

Unable to hold back any longer, I pull her in, kissing her gently, careful not to push her any further than she's comfortable with. She seems to have ideas of her own, placing her hands on the back of my head to pull my much deeper into the kiss. I lose all track of time and my surroundings, completely entranced by her touch.

She finally pulls back, looking at me as though I'm her favorite person in the world. "I hope this isn't a bad time to tell you... I'm crazy about you" she finally says, holding back a smirk.

I burst out in laughter. "Goofball" I jest, pulling her in for another quick kiss. "I almost forgot, I uhh...well I have something I learned for tonight."

"Spencer Reid, you learned a piece just for me?" she stands up to give me space to play.

"You don't have to go, if you don't want to." I try to hide the completely pathetic look I know is on my face. But I didn't want her to leave my side. Being with her is the comfort I need to get through this without my extra nerves.

She can see the neediness in my eyes. Based on the smile on her face as she sits back down, wrapping her arm around my waist, and I don't think she minds.

As my hands start to play the notes I had spent a few weeks learning, I look over to see her eyes light up at the sound of Where Is My Mind. I can't help but smile, proud of my success in bringing her joy.

The song is simple, not nearly as complex as what she had just performed for me, but that wasn't the point. Based on the look on her face, I can tell she remembers and that it means something to her too.

When I finally finish, I look over to see her wiping her eyes. "You remembered" she says quietly through a few sniffles.

"Of course I remembered." I turn my body on the bench to face her properly.

"Y/N, I asked you here tonight because I think it's time I showed you just how much you mean to me. This isn't new. This isn't sudden. I'm nothing if not extremely analytical and thorough."

She lets out a small laugh through tears now trickling down her face. I would be worried if it wasn't for the pure smile of joy she is unable to hold back.

"So believe me when I say I have thought about this for a long time. Pretty much since that very day." I know I don't have to elaborate; she already knows exactly when I am talking about.

"Y/N I love spending time with you and getting to know more about you each day, but I would be kidding myself if I pretended that I only wanted friendship with you any longer. I hope I'm not being too forward, and I apologize for setting this all up and asking you without any warning. I know I probably put you on the spot to join me on this date but..."

My spiral into self-doubt is cut short by the feeling of her lips on mine. I feel myself melting into her once again, worried I may never want to come back for air.

She eventually pulls back opening her mouth to respond to what I feel was quite an embarrassing display of my emotions.

"Spencer, I have been trying to figure out my feelings for you for so long. I had just been working up the courage to say something to you, but it seems you had plans of your own. This is more than I could ever..."

Tears fill her eyes once more, spilling over as she starts to turn her head away.

I scoot in to wrap her in my embrace. "Hey, hey its ok, shhhh." I rub my hand across her back, hoping to sooth her. After a few deep breaths she finds her words once again.

"This is more than I could ever ask for, ever dream of. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. No man has ever...cared this much about something I love. In so many past relationships I felt as though they were merely tolerating my quirks, including all the things I am so overtly passionate about. Tolerating me until they just...left. All I've ever wanted was someone to appreciate how passionate I can be and won't let it scare them away. Someone to stay."

I feel my heartache knowing that she has felt this way for so long. I lift her chin as I lean in to give her one gentle kiss before pulling away to whisper, "I'm not going anywhere."

A/N: I hope everyone is still enjoying the story! Let me know your thoughts in the comments 😁💖

Also sorry for how gushy this is but it won't always be that way so enjoy it while it lasts 🙊

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

I’m On Fire [Chapter 2]

With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

Chapter Summary: Y/N and Spencer start to put a plan together.

A/N:  I’ve got a head cold at the mo’ but I had to get a covid test just in case so I’m not allowed leave my room till I get the results! So enjoy a bonus chapter while I wallow on my own for like 36 hours :( On a positive note, thank you guys all so much for the response to chapter 1 I really didn’t see that coming! I’ve tagged everyone who asked, let me know if you wanna be added

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: Cursing, some NSFW language/themes

Word Count: 6.1k

Previous Chapter -- Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist 

"Are you coming up or what?"

The question was still ringing in my ears. It caught me completely off guard. 'Up' as in up to Spencer's apartment? Where he lived? I knew he lived somewhere in theory, just like I knew deep down that he wasn't made in a test tube. 

Without noticing I've undone my seatbelt and I'm hopping out of the car, following him around to the front door. I guess I am coming up.

Spencer's apartment is more cosy than I thought it was going to be. It's warm and lived in. It's not big, but I think that might be what makes it homely. Something about the way he behaves had me thinking it would be fully decked out in stainless steel or glass or something. But it wasn't pristine, it was messy. 

There were books bursting from the shelves that lined the walls of the apartment, along with books laid open over nearly every surface in the place, it looked like he was in the middle of reading all of them, and honestly, I didn't doubt it. Maybe I'd misjudged him. He even had some photos of what looked like his family, and maybe friends, even some of the BAU, lining his walls or propped up on his mantle. He had little trinkets and souvenirs on his shelves too, evidence that he'd been around the country for reasons other than a case. I would never admit it to him but there was a real charm to the place.

Once we got inside he took off his bag and suit jacket, tossing them on the desk just inside of the door. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, and he seemed to pick up on my awkward energy.

"You can make yourself at home" he said, his confident streak remaining. I had no idea what to do with that. What would even make me comfortable in Spencer Reid's apartment? I took a seat on his sofa and just sat with my hands resting in my lap. Really not even sure where I should look without feeling like I was invading his privacy. Even though I wanted to. I think it was morbid curiosity, looking for clues on who this man might actually be outside of the BAU. What I really wanted to do was stand up and walk around, soaking in every bit if this place as if it would help me decipher our messy relationship.

He returned to the living room a few moments later, two mismatched mugs in his hands. He places one in front of me on the coffee table. I pick it up and take a sip. It's lemon and ginger, how did he know what kind of tea I liked? I held the mug in my hands inhaling the steam in an effort to relax. When I look up he's watching me, arms folded across his chest.

"So, how does this thing work. What's the game plan?" I honestly have no real idea. This evening really got away from me, I was still expecting to snap out of it and wake up in my bed at any moment.

"Well I can't say I've ever been in a Sandra Bullock movie before either so this is uncharted territory for me too" I say with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. Even a little. I can see him crack a small smile but hides it almost instantly, his face hardening again.

"My sister, Margot, she's getting married in like 4 months." I can feel myself tense and I shake out my shoulders, I have to remind myself that he's agreed to this already, "Fuck it, I'm just going to be honest with you. My Mom's mostly freaked out that I'm too attached to this job and that I'll just never find someone again." I shouldn't have said again, fuck. I hope he didn't pick up on that. Who am I kidding. "Even though, I'm not sure I care if I do or don't?" he doesn't say anything, like he's waiting for me to continue. I know I've shared a little too much already but I keep going.

"Margot's 2 years younger than me, I introduced her to her fiancé Philip, we met in college, he's a sweetheart. But since they've gotten engaged Mom's gotten exponentially weirder. I think she's convinced I'm fully going to die alone, as if that would be the worst thing that could ever happen? Anyway, she's been trying to auction me off to all these guys, using this wedding as an excuse. I'm not sure how much of that phone call you actually heard earlier but Mom was trying to sell me on this guy, David, and I just… snapped." I look up at Spencer and he unfolds his arms, leaning in ever so slightly coaxing the story out of me.

"David, he uh, he worked for my father for a while back in high school, filing documents and stuff, busy work mostly. He used to make out with me when he was at our house after school, but then he'd ignore me in the halls the next morning. I know it's because I was a pariah back then or something but I didn't want to think about it today and I just got worked up. I shouldn't have let on that you were my date, I was just going to ask if I could bring Garcia or something, and I'm sorry." I cover my face in my hands, "I'm insane, you can back out if you want to."

I can hear him move from his spot on the opposite side of the sofa, he takes my wrists and gently pulls my hands from my face. He looks into my eyes, "I'm in this now Y/N, what do you need me to do?" he asks, and there's a genuine earnest in his voice that I think I've only ever heard a handful of times. And it's never been directed at me.

"Okay, well we've got a few months before you ha–, wait, fuck!" I throw my head back, there's already a complication, "shit" I curse under my breath. His eyebrows knit together, sitting upright.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"I forgot about my Mom's 50th, it's next month. They've got this whole huge party planned back home in upstate New York. I've gotta go and they'll probably want to meet you, or they're gonna have a load of questions for me at least. I can try and get you out of it I'm sure"

He gets that cocky look again, he shakes his head "I don't know, I've always liked a bit of competition" he reclines back into his corner of the sofa, taking a satisfied sip from his own mug before speaking again. "You know, if I've got to learn enough to pass as your boyfriend in a month, surely that means you've got to learn enough to pass as my girlfriend within the month, no?"

Oh god. What have I done, why didn't I think this far ahead. "I mean, yeah I guess you're right." I had to remember he was doing me a favor. I had to get over myself. "Okay, if you're sure you're up for that?" I ask, and he nods, and I think he looks excited, or maybe he just finds the whole situation funny.

"If anyone's up for the competition it's you" he says, and I'm not sure if that's a compliment or a dig but I nod in agreement.

He takes another sip of his tea, collected and relaxed. I can't help but notice how at ease he is when he's in his own surroundings. I'm so used to seeing him sitting at a desk surrounded by paperwork, or combing through file after file in the make-shift office in a small-town police station, usually flustered or anxious, or antagonizing me whenever he wasn’t. This was a different Spencer. Completely in control, at ease.

"Alright, shall we get started then, we can't really afford to waste any time can we?" he was actually sort of right, so I nodded. It was only now occurring to me that I'd have to share parts of my personal life with him if I wanted this plan to work. We already knew the basics about each other, I'd read his file when I started at the BAU, I'd read everyones. And I feel like it was safe to presume he'd done the same.

His eyes bore directly into mine as he leaned forward, I think he was enjoying how uncomfortable I must've looked.

"How about I ask you some rapid-fire questions and you have to answer 'em?" he asks, and it's as good of a plan as any, and I can't think of any other suggestions, so I nod.

"Okay, shoot." I say, unsure and nervous, so I brace myself. I'm just grateful that he's making my life easier rather than harder for what feels like the first time since I met him.

I really should've known better.

He leans in, "So Y/N, first question, when did you lose your virginity?"

I almost choke on the mouthful of tea I just took, that can't be what he just asked, and he looks like he's savoring my shocked expression.

"I uh, I don't think you need to know that?" is all I can get out.

"Really? You think that's something your boyfriend wouldn't know about you?" he's right, but I didn't want to admit it outright.

"I feel like I sort of already hinted. It was that same guy David, I was 18, he was 19. We had sex on the couch while my parents went out one evening. I kept my bra on the whole time, he came, I didn't. It was all very standard stuff." I wasn't sure what compelled me to add that last part. I think I was giving in to the open honestly thing. "So what about you Doc?" I challenged.

He didn't seem embarrassed, or even shy. "I must've bloomed little later than you" he admits with a soft chuckle, "Vivian Stewart, I was 21, she was too. It was the last semester of my last PhD and I figured I must be missing out on something. And I sure was" he smirks to himself. "I came, she did too, 3 times. I did a lot of research ahead of time" he mirrored my story and I rolled my eyes. It was hard not to feel a little impressed but I tried with everything I had to stifle it so he couldn't tell. I wish it didn't make me feel something but it did. I gulp down the mouthful of tea that's been sitting in my throat.

I have to shake myself back to reality. I can't give him the satisfaction of throwing me. "My turn." I command, "When was your last relationship Dr. Reid?" I ask, "I mean like, serious one, not like hook-up" I clarify before he can ask. He thinks on it for a moment.

"I'm not sure what you classify as fully serious, but I guess it was this girl, Rebecca, we dated for a while when I first joined the BAU but it didn't work out. What about you?" he flips it back.

"So that was what, like 6-ish years ago?" I ask, he just nods.

"Mine was like 3 years ago now I think. I met this guy Nathan on my first week of college, we dated for like 4 years. He moved here for me when I got accepted by the BAU." I had to stop myself from delving into the detail. It was a long time ago now but it still hurt. "Long story short, the hours were demanding and they got in the way more than I would've liked. We ended up splitting a couple months after I got the job." I tried to play it off like it wasn't one of the more devastating things to happen in my life. But something told me he’d registered that, so he didn't push.

His energy picks up and he looks at me with a grin, but there's something a little sinister behind it. "I've got a more fun question for you." he leans in closer to me, "Y/N, when was the last time you got laid?" I just looked at him in shock. 

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, I can go first if you really need me to?" his voice didn't waver,

"Fuck you Reid, I know when it was!" I snapped back at him. I did have to think back a little farther than I'd like to pull up the memory.

"Met this guy in a bar when I was out with Pen one night, we went back to his place and hooked up." I say as deadpan as I can make it.

"Well that's not very exciting is it?" he jokes, "Did you at least cum that time?" I know he's just trying to rile me up, but I answer anyway.

"As a matter of fact I did" I earn back a little of my confidence.

"I'm so happy for you, but you did manage to avoid my initial question" fuck "when was this exciting night of yours Y/N?" he probes, like I really, really wished he wouldn't. I could lie, but I'm sure he'd be able to tell. I cringe before I can say it.

"About 8 months ago" I mutter, just low enough for him to hear.

"Sorry, did you just say 8 months ago?" He nearly shouts in disbelief, he seems to find it funny.

"Hey fuck you Spencer!" I go on the defensive, "When was the last time you even got laid?"

"Like two and half weeks ago" he says, confident, and still laughing, "Wait wait, when was the last time you got yourself off? I know you're not waiting 8 months!" he giggles and I think I could kill him. I know I kept giving him outs but was it too late for me to just get up and leave?

"I'm not doing this with you if you're just gonna make fun of me Reid, I get enough of that at work" I get out, my voice is serious but I'm trying to hide how awkward all of this is making me feel, and I don't know that I'm doing a very good job.

I can tell that's gotten to him, he relaxes and eases up on the giggling. "Look okay wait Y/N. I'll stop, I'm not actually trying to make fun of you. I was being serious, I think stuff like this is important if we're gonna have to be comfortable around each other enough to seem like a real couple. Plus, it'll just help break the ice?" he shrugs. "But you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

I soften, because I agree, even thought I hate that he's right. "Fine" I collect my thoughts, "2 nights ago I'm pretty sure." I regret it almost instantly, but breaking the ice is supposed to feel awkward.

"Same here actually," he chuckles, "what'd you do?" I'm so startled by the question I almost forget how to answer.

"I, uh, my, my vibrator? I just felt like uh, I watched some..." I still can't force out a whole sentence. It's not like I was always awkward about sex or anything, I could talk to Garcia, or honestly probably any of the other team members about it. But with Spencer it didn't feel as comfortable. He still sat calmly, smiling just a little.

"Same here, 2 nights back, but with my hands I guess. I wonder if we were doing it at the same time?" he mutters the last part gently and my head goes a bit fuzzy. My eyes drift away from his face and settle on his hands, the mug he's holding looks so tiny with his fingers wrapped around it, I wondered how they'd look wrapped around my-

"Okay I think that's enough for one night, don't you think?" I jump up off the sofa and turn, mostly so that he doesn't catch the blush thats creeping from my neck up to my cheeks. And because I don't know what I'll say, or regret saying, if this conversations continues on its current trajectory.

"Sure," he says, standing up next to me, and I want to move further away instantly, "you're probably right, and it's getting a little late now anyway" he glances at his watch. Ushering me back towards his front door and opening it up. Before I can walk out he lightly touches my shoulder to turn me back to face him, and I wonder if he can feel the heat radiating from every part of me.

"So are you free next Friday after work?" he asks, and I'm so flustered I almost forget why, I just nod. "Perfect, how about we come here again and we can dive into preparing? You could also make a start on getting these onto a hard drive?" he gestures to the antique looking hardbacks adorning the shelves.

'Sounds great!" I perk up, feigning enthusiasm, "See you then!"

"Well, see you Monday morning actually Y/N" he smirks as I walk out the door. Fuck, he was right.

I really hadn't thought this through.

——

The weekend was a bit of a blur. I decided to try and put some useful information into a document for Spencer. It felt strange to try and condense my life into as few pages as possible. I knew Reid had an eidetic memory, and nothing would necessarily overwhelm him. But I also knew that he was someone that the team relied on to fill in a lot of the gaps in the rest of the our knowledge. So I felt bad about dumping a load of information on him, especially considering it was a favor he was doing for me.

I'd complied the majority of my life into a 15 page document and printed it out. Hopefully that would address most of what my family could guerrilla attack him with. There was also something unsettling about the imbalance. I was going to give him so many of the intricate details of my life in a little file, whereas all I really knew about Spencer was what I'd taken it upon myself to learn about him throughout the past few years.

I'd read all of his work while I was in college, given how he was the gold standard of getting into the BAU at a young age, I wanted to know who this guy was. I think I'd pictured something different. And I couldn't deny there was something enticing about finally getting to know him after all of these years of working together. Maybe this could actually be fun, or interesting at least.

----

I arrived early on Monday morning. I thought I was first into the office as usual but Garcia was sitting in my desk chair waiting for me. The second she saw me walk in she tensed, she must've known we were the only people in this early.

"What happened! You've been avoiding me all weekend?" she asked, and she was right. I'd drafted enough texts to her, trying to explain what the plan was, mostly without wanting to admit that she was right. Maybe I was stubborn.

"Alright okay, I drove Reid home." I admitted, dropping my bag by my desk. She rolls her eyes at me, dramatic as always.

"Well I knew that already Y/N damn! What happened next?"

"Fine, we went into his apartment and talked for a while. Trying to sort out the details, get a handle on things I guess?" I said, unsure of how much I should actually give away about our conversation.

"What things!?" She shouts, standing up from my desk,

"I don't know Pen, like logistics and stuff, I still haven't decided how I feel about that little stunt you pulled on Friday night!" I let my frustration get the better of me, and maybe that's why I haven't talked to her. It could also be because I know she's able to read me like a book and I'm not even sure how I feel about this whole situation.

"I call bullshit." She counters, "I know you were relived as hell when I sorted that whole thing out. You would've had anxiety tummy all weekend if I hadn't called Spencer!" I just go silent, she was right. I'd gotten so caught up in the whole, 'how to have a fake boyfriend' that I'd almost forgotten about how stressed I was about Spencer hearing my call in the first place.

"Okay, shit" I sigh. "Maybe you were right Pen. We're actually meeting up again this Friday after work to make a plan for the next while, so I guess that's progress?" I shrug, trying to play it off like this whole situation doesn't make my stomach flip.

"Ohhhhh! So like a date?" She probes, her enthusiasm rising drastically.

"Oh my God Pen no! Like an appointment at best" I diffuse the situation

"Ugh that's no fun" she says, not even trying to disguise her disappointment.

As if on cue Dr. Reid walks through the double doors into the bullpen. Both Garcia and I wave, overall awkwardly, but making an attempt pretend like things were completely normal and like nothing had changed since the last time we were all in the office together.

Penelope heads to her office as the bullpen starts to fill up quickly. Less than an hour later though Garcia's back at my desk and there's a new case that needs the teams attention in Boston. I follow her into the conference room and wait for the rest of the team to join. Spencer follows a moment later with 2 cups of coffee in his hands. I can see my mug in his hand and my automatic response is that he's messing with me. But he places my mug in front of me in the circular table before taking the seat next to me, listening to Garcia's briefing. I don't know if he's ever sat next to me in this conference room, at least not by choice.

I barely had any time to finish my coffee before I have to say goodbye to Garcia and hop on the jet to Boston.

----

The case was grueling. More so than usual. It was wrapped up late on Thursday night and the team decided to fly back home first thing on Friday morning. I was exhausted. Even if there was enough time to get sleep each night it wasn't like I got any. Whenever a case got on top of me like this it made it hard to rest, or get it off my mind at all until it was wrapped up. So even though it was over, that didn't mean I wasn't exhausted.

Hotch gave the team the rest of the day off, given that we have until submit our paperwork by Monday. I wasn't sure if Spencer's invitation from the following week still stood. I didn't want to ask, partly because I was so tired, but also because I was scared. I wasn't about to show up at his house in an effort to have a heart to heart, or hand him a condensed version of my life story on a manilla envelope if he was as drained as I was.

Standing by my desk I packed up everything I'd need to get my paperwork done over the weekend, I was just about finished when Spencer snuck up behind me, perching himself on the edge of my desk. "So, you almost ready to go?" he asks, like it's the most obvious question in the world. I couldn't really hide my surprise.

"Oh yeah. That's fine, I mean, if you're still cool with that?" I ask, and I hate how flustered I sound, like he makes me nervous.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" He chuckles, standing up straight.

"Cool, gimme a sec and I'll be good to go."

I pack up the rest of my stuff quickly and we make our way out. There's something that feels a little eerie about the two of us being in an elevator together alone again. It was a different kind of awkward to how it felt a week before hand. It almost felt like a kind of tension rather than a hatred or a rivalry. Either way we rode down in silence.

Once we got to the basement Spencer walks out of the elevator and walks straight to my car without having to ask. I unlock it and he hops into the passenger seat. Like this is a natural interaction. Something we do all the time. And I don't hate it as much as I thought I would.

"So," he says, buckling up his seat belt and breaking the silence, "do you know how to get to my place from here or do you need directions again?"

"Well I've got to turn on the engine first" I tease, hoping he picks up on the reference to our last car ride, he chuckles like he does.

"Are you hungry?" he asks

"Starving."

The delivery guy get's to Spencer's apartment at almost the same time we do.

---

Once the food's been demolished the two of us finally sit on his sofa, the same sides as the week before. "So, shall we get back into this?" He asks, sitting forward slightly to pull a notebook out of his satchel on the floor. It's small and lavender, and it's got a pen clipped into the spine. He cracks it open and flips to a specific page.

"Sorry, what's that?" I ask, pointing to the book, he looks confused,

"They're my notes?" he says, like it should be obvious

"Your notes?" I ask,

"My notes on you." he smirks, again like I'm silly for even asking.

He had notes on me? He had a whole notebook on me? What was even in that thing?

"You've got notes on me?" I ask, my hands reaching out to grab it, but he retreats faster than I can catch him. "What have you got in there that's so serious?"

"Nothing." and his tone's a bit too stern and I don't really want to push it when he's being so uncharacteristically nice to me.

"I've actually got this ready for you" I pull the file out of my own bag and toss it to him. "I'm not sure exactly what you need to know but that should be the majority of it at least."

He opens it up and glances over the the pages. It takes him all of 2 minutes to get through the whole thing. It feels unsettling that he's taking in a boiled down version of my life while I'm just sitting on the opposite side of the sofa. Trying to avoid the attention I pipe up.

"Um, hey, maybe it would be a good time for you to show me where to make a start digitizing your books over here?" I stand up and make my way to the shelf. He jumps up off the sofa and walks toward me, visibly excited.

"That's actually a great idea, I thought that the theses from my degrees could be a good place to start, since I'm pretty sure they're not backed up anywhere." he guides me to a section of the book case by the window. There's a series of leather bound hardbacks, the same gold font embossed on the spines. I recognize all of them, pulling out the first one.

"This is my favorite" I say without thinking about it and he does a double take, clearly thrown.

"You've, uh, you read my work?" he asks, completely puzzled. I'm sort of proud that I've managed to make him this awkward, and I nod.

"Mmhm, back before I joined the BAU actually. Before I really knew you" I regret saying the last part, it comes out a little meaner than I really wanted it to so I back track. "Spencer, I read all of your work while I was in college, you were like the gold standard. I don't think I slept more than 2 hours a night throughout my PHD because I was just trying to get as much done as you." and his face softens at the admission. But it takes him a moment before he responds. Leaving the two of us in silence a little too long.

"I had no idea" is all he says.

"I think this one was best" I say propping up the one in my hand, "you get a bit cockier as you move on” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "but I'll start with all of these I guess" I grab the matching books and stack them in my arms. Walking over to his desk and setting up. Glancing at the clock it was only 7pm so I decided to just make a start.

Spencer didn't contest. Letting me just get settled at his desk, I pull out my laptop and begin work on transcribing the first volume. After a few minutes he silently places a cup of tea down beside me and goes to sit on the sofa. The time rolls in quickly after that, each time I look up at Spencer he's carefully combing through the file I'd given him. Re-reading it and making little markings in his lavender notebook. I'm not really sure what I put in there that was worth making a note on but clearly he was reading between the lines on some things. That little notebook was like a profile of me.

When he seemed like he'd finished writing he pulls out his phone, scrolling through it aimlessly like I'd never seen him do before. It made him look so normal. His eyebrows knit together as he's looking at something on his screen and he stands up. Making his way over to me at the desk and shows me what he was looking at.

"Who's this?" he asks, "This guy you're with?"

I recognize the photo instantly. It's from a few years earlier, Nathan and I on the beach, my head resting on his chest. He'd taken it while we were on vacation celebrating our anniversary. That was about a month before I got into the BAU, I had no idea that was going to be our last anniversary. I gulp down the emotions that it stirs. I'm mostly over the whole thing by now, but looking at old photos like that, photos of happier times, it can still sting.

"That's uh, the boyfriend I was telling you about last week. Nathan, we broke up not long after I joined the BAU?" he nods, but he's smart, and I kind of figure he already knew that.

"Ah alright" he takes out the hardback and jots another note down. Maybe he's trying to get a read on me.

"What are you doing?" I gesture to the phone,

"It's research, do you not think that if you and I were really dating that stalking your social media profiles would be on my agenda?" he's smug, and he's right. But I guess I just didn't expect it from him.

"Well that's not really fair now is it? I can't reciprocate, you've got no social media presence whatsoever!" he finds that funny, letting out a deep chuckle and tucking his phone away in his back pocket.

"Maybe so, but that imbalance is hardly my fault. Besides, you've read all my dissertations apparently..."

"Bastard" I joke, slamming my laptop shut and throwing a pen from his desk at him so that it lightly bounces off the top of his head.

"Hey, there's no need for violence Y/N!" he rubs the spot beneath his curls, "Maybe it's time you took a break actually?" he says, sitting himself back down on the sofa.

I was reluctant to admit it but he was right. My eyes were starting to go a little fuzzy after looking at the screen for so long. I stand up and stretch my arms out above my head, feeling my spine stretch out after sitting for so long, letting out a low groan. Spencer waves me over to the sofa and I join him.

"How about we go back to basics?" Spencer asks with a small grin, and I can't help but let out a long sigh.

"I thought I was taking a break, no more questions" he just laughs at me,

"Relax, you're not that interesting, it's just a simple question." he states, and I'm not sure if I'm supposed to find it funny or offensive

"Ugh, fine, shoot"

"Well, actually it's two questions" he corrects, "what's your favorite movie, and what's your favorite snack?"

I'm confused mostly by the fact that it actually is a simple question, I was expecting something a lot more contentious, but also because he looks eager to know the answer.

"I'm not really sure what my favorite movie is to be honest, one of them is Night of the Living Dead?"

He nods to himself, and jots it down in the notebook again, "Alright, I can make that work" he stands up off the sofa before turning back to me, "and snack?"

"Peanut butter cups I guess?" I respond and he grins ear to ear, which is a completely new sight, and I like it way more than I thought I would.

"Perfect, gimme 2 minutes!" he leaves the living room and wanders towards the kitchen.

Spencer returns a few minutes later with a DVD, a packet of peanut butter cups , and a thick knitted blanket gathered in his arms. He drapes the blanket over me and gently places the peanut butter cups on top of it before popping the DVD into the player and sitting down beside me. I'm not really sure how to process any of the situation. Am I about to watch a movie on Spencer Reid's sofa? Sitting next to Spencer Reid?

"I... I, uh, thought you were just asking for your notes?" I ask, pointing at the notebook resting in his lap. He picks it up and throws it onto the coffee table.

"Sometimes I find experience is the best teacher, don't you?" he asks before pressing play, “And besides, it should keep you quiet for a whole 96 minutes” of course.

I can only nod in agreement, I'm not really sure what I'll say if I try to speak. I get myself cosy under the warm blanket and we watch the movie in near silence.

Once the credits roll Spencer finally speaks up, "I actually went to see a screening of this last month downtown, there was this little old horror movie fest-" I cut him off without really realizing, I'm just strangely excited that we've genuinely got something in common.

"Holy shit, I was there!" I say, more enthusiastic than the situation calls for.

He laughs at my excitement, "Well, I guess we have more overlap than I thought, that should probably help with the whole charade." he stretches his arms up over his head and let's out a small, gentle yawn. I'd been enjoying myself more than I thought I would, or would ever tell Spencer, that I'd almost forgotten that we'd both been on a case for almost every waking moment of the past week. I really should feel a lot more drained than I do.

I was just after midnight when I suggested that I head back home. I offered to take some of the books home to work on throughout the weekend but Spencer insisted that I just work on them whenever I came over again. I sort of felt like I should thank him for the evening when I was on my way out the door, or give him a quick hug, no that felt wrong. In the end all I could really muster was a lousy, "goodnight" and a meek wave on my way out the door before I drove home. And couldn't get to sleep.

— —

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