#Tara reading a book and humming along

[endollvors]

Culmination of a running gag from a hypothetical season 4 where Oz doesn't get written out. People keep accidentally leaving Willow's ex Boyfriend and her Current Girlfriend in a room alone together, the camera cuts to the next scene after a couple seconds of silence. After three episodes of this, the rest of the Scoobies are shocked to discover that they are, actually, friends and we see them hang out together for real.

[lovexdeepspace]

All the Love and Deepspace boys react when you make a homemade scarf for them?

Thank you very much and hope all is well.

“made with love.”

summary; a gift is best when it comes from the heart.

warnings; none! enjoy the sweetness <3

note; aaaaa some fluff to break the angst cycle !! ty for the sweet request !!

( to be formatted in the future )

a box awaits each of the boys, wrapped neatly with a note attatched.

rafayel…

… immediately calls you, panicking that some crazed fangirl or someone he wronged in the past has found his address.

“what if it’s a bomb?” he shouts into the phone, peering through the crack in his front door at the box. “or worse! what if it’s some woman’s used underwear?!”

you fail to contain your laughter on the other end of the call, covering your mouth as you double over.

“how can you laugh in such dire times?” rafayel wails, clutching the phone to his ear. “this isn’t funny!”

after a moment you were finally able to compose yourself and say, “the box is from me, dumbass. i dropped it off on my way to work this morning. i tried to give it to you personally but someone wouldn’t answer the door.”

cue a sheepish chuckle from rafayel as he opens his front door and stoops down to open the gift then and there. he smiles to himself as he finds a blue hand knit scarf sitting in the box, his fingers running gently along the material.

“it’s so soft,” he says softly and you laugh again, amused by his genuine reaction. “i’m putting it on and never taking it off.”

“so dramatic,” you mumble, cradling the phone between your shoulder and ear as you pick up your book once more. the line went silent and you quirk a brow. “rafayel?”

your phone buzzes and you pull it away from your shoulder to find three image attachments sent your way with more piling in every second. each photo is one of rafayel in a different, exaggerated pose with the scarf wrapped around his neck. you laugh at his theatrics and save a couple to your camera roll before shooting him a quick text.

you look like a dork.

he answers immediately, as to be expected from your clingy artist:

i think i look amazing

xavier…

… opens the box as soon as he pulls it in his apartment without a single concern. if anyone could handle some danger, it’s him, so why worry?

the yellow scarf is soft in his lap as he reads the card you wrote for him, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. he sets the little card aside and wraps the scarf loosely around his shoulders before pushing himself off his couch, sending you a text that he’s coming over.

it doesn’t take long for him to arrive at your front door or for him to fish out the spare key you had given him, unlocking the door and pushing his way in. xavier shuffles into your apartment, leaving his shoes by the door as he calls out your name. he moves from the main room to your bedroom, finding you sprawled out on your bed. without a second thought he crawls into bed beside you, startling you awake.

“huh — wha? xavier?” you lay back down, groaning. “scared the shit outta me.”

xavier hums and pulls you into his embrace, your face burying in his chest. “i got your gift and needed to come say thank you.”

“you couldn’t have just texted me?” you ask sleepily, wrapping your arms around his midsection. “you’re welcome, by the way. tara taught me how to knit and she gave me some extra yarn. i thought the color would suit you.”

you pull back a little and eye the scarf around his neck before adding, “it does suit you.”

xavier nods in agreement, kissing your forehead. “you have a good eye.”

zayne…

… completely forgets about the gift. one day he comes into the office to find a box on his desk and makes a mental note to open it after his first patient.

then one patient becomes two back to back emergency surgeries and by the time that was all complete it was well into the night. finally having a second to himself, zayne plops down on his couch and leans his head back. his eyes finally close only to snap open again at a knock on his door.

“zayne, i brought you some dinner,” you say as you open the door to his office. he lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes once more as you shut the door behind you, setting the lunchbox on his desk. “oh! you still haven’t opened it?”

“opened what?” zayne asks, turning his head slightly to look at you. you pick up the gift on his desk and hold it out to him. “oh, that. i assume it’s from you, then?”

you nod excitedly and place the box on his lap. “go on, open it!”

“i’m sorry, today’s been a hectic day,” zayne apologizes as he carefully opens the box. the stress melts away as he looks into the box at a black hand-knit scarf with a small smile. “you made this?”

you take a seat next to him, reaching over and grabbing the scarf out of the box as he reads the card. “i did! and since you’re mr. jack frost over here, i think a scarf is the perfect accessory! do you like it?”

you wrap it haphazardly around his shoulders and zayne sets the card down on the coffee table before fixing it around his neck.

“out of all the gifts you’ve given me over the years, i think this one might just be my favorite,” he replies, placing a hand on your knee as he leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “thank you, sunshine.”

[southtopaz]

PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts.

Word count: 3k

A/n: the next 3 chapters won’t follow Scream 6 plot as I wanted to add more storyline to the characters outside of the movies. If you want to read just Scream 6 plot, skip to Part 12. I’m also not going to follow the original timeline as Scream 6 will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Iris leaned against the kitchen counter, a cup of coffee in hand, gazing out the window at the bustling streets of New York. The city hummed with life, a vibrant symphony of honking cars, distant sirens, and the chatter of people rushing by. It had been a month since she, Tara, and Sam had moved into their modest apartment in Brooklyn, and slowly everything was falling right into place.

"Can you believe we actually live here?" Tara exclaimed, bouncing into the kitchen with a bright smile that lit up the room. Iris, lost in her thoughts, jumped slightly at her voice. She turned to look at her friend and found herself taking in Tara's relaxed appearance. Her hair was still damp from her morning shower, and she wore an oversized sweatshirt that hung loosely on her frame. Feeling a strange flutter in her chest, Iris quickly averted her gaze, a wave of confusion washing over her. What was happening to her? As a distraction, she reached for the coffee pot and passed Tara a steaming cup. "It feels like a dream," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.

"More like a chaotic dream," Sam replied, emerging from her room with a stack of books. "I can't find anything in this mess. I'm still trying to locate my favorite sweater."

Iris chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Which one? The black one? Or the other one that's also black? Or wait—what about..."

"Point taken! It's not my fault black goes with everything!" Sam exclaimed, feigning annoyance at Iris's playful critique.

"Oh, I see you're breaking out the spring colors," .

Sam threw a small book at her, but Iris was quick to dodge it, laughter bubbling up as she ducked.

"Maybe it's a sign that you need to embrace the New York fashion scene," Tara chimed in, grinning.

"I rather die but thanks"

As they settled into their new routine, the trio found joy in the small things: discovering local coffee shops, exploring vibrant street markets, and hosting movie nights along with Chad and Mindy in their living room, which was still adorned with unpacked boxes. Soon they were going to start their classes so they were trying to enjoy the most they could before they inmersed themselves in books. Iris was also searching for a job because she didn't want Sam to be the only one contributing financially, and she wanted to stop her mom from having to spend money on her.

Some weeks later, even with Iris getting a job on a coffee shop, they soon realized that money was still running short. With rent prices in New York being what they were, they knew they needed a fourth person to share the burden. They set up an anonymus ad, detailing their apartment and what they were looking for. They were all wary but they knew they didn't have a choice.

After a few interviews that felt more like awkward first dates than roommate searches, the trio finally met Quinn, a girl with fiery ginger hair that seemed to glow under the dim light of their cluttered living room, and strikingly blue eyes that sparkled with confidence. She was majoring in biology, and perhaps the most intriguing detail was that her dad was a cop. As she strolled into their apartment, she instantly filled the space with a vibrant energy.

The living room was still a whirlwind of unpacked boxes and mismatched furniture, a mix of secondhand finds and items from their old homes. Colorful pillows were scattered across an old couch, while a coffee table was littered with snacks from their latest movie night. A small bookshelf leaned against the wall, stuffed with books that had yet to find their proper places. The air carried the faint aroma of popcorn mixed with the floral scent of a candle they had lit in a moment of desperation to mask the smell of takeout.

"So, how long have you guys been looking for a roommate?" Quinn asked, casually leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed with an air of confidence.

"For a few weeks, but as you can see, we haven't had much luck," Sam replied, gesturing toward the chaos. Her tone was laced with a hint of frustration, but there was also a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

"Is it because people in New York are weird, or are you guys just too strict?" Quinn quipped, raising an eyebrow playfully, a smirk dancing on her lips.

"Honestly? A little bit of both," Tara admitted, sharing a knowing glance with Iris as they both recalled some of the more bizarre people they met.

Quinn let out a soft laugh. "I get it! You should have seen my last roommate, she was a little bit weird. She had a pet rat, and that little fucker would sneak into my room all the time!" She shuddered dramatically, her eyes wide with mock horror, and Iris couldn't help but snort at her antics.

After a bit of small talk, Quinn leaned in closer, her curiosity piqued. "So, where are you guys from?"

The three friends exchanged glances, an unspoken agreement passing between them. "We're from Woodsboro," Sam said, determined to be honest, at least about this part.

"Oh, okay. I think I've heard that name before," Quinn replied, making a nonchalant face as she glanced around the apartment. "I come from Philadelphia, but I think I already mentioned that" she added with a light laugh, her eyes sparkling.

"Why did you move here? Just for college?" Sam asked, genuinely curious about the girl who seemed to fit right in.

"Well, actually, I moved because my dad got a job here at the police station, and I figured I'd apply to a university while I was at it," Quinn explained, her tone brightening with pride.

"Your dad is a cop?" Iris inquired, raising an eyebrow, intrigued. After Quinn nodded, she exchanged a quick glance with Tara. Having a roommate whose father was a cop felt like a safety net in their world, right?

Sam, sensing the conversation flowing nicely, offered to show Quinn what would be her room and slipped away, leaving Iris and Tara alone in the living room. They both knew that Sam had her own agenda, to continue interrogating the new girl.

"So, what do you think of Quinn?" Iris wiggled her eyebrows playfully.

"She seems nice. It could be good," Tara replied, her tone thoughtful as she leaned back against the couch, letting the cushions cradle her.

"Maybe she likes horror movies too, she could even join our movie nights!" Iris exclaimed, though she knew no one was going to interrupt the nights in where Tara tried to convince her that horror movies are the best.

"Nope, that's our thing, just you and me," Tara said, playfully rolling her eyes as Iris draped an arm around her shoulder.

At that moment, Sam and Quinn returned, and Sam subtly nodded at Iris and Tara, signaling that they'd found their new roommate. . "Well, Quinn, pleasure to meet you, and welcome to your new home, I guess!" Sam said, her smile a bit awkward but genuine. "My sister and Iris will fill you in on everything else you need to know."

Iris gave a thumbs-up to Quinn, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy. She had to get used to someone else living here. "Yeah, welcome! It's a bit chaotic, but it's home," she added, trying to reassure her.

"Okay, cool!" Quinn replied, then added with a teasing grin, "By the way, you guys look really cute together. How long have you been dating?"

Both Iris and Tara froze, their eyes wide in shock. They exchanged a quick glance and suddenly they realized that Iris still had her arm around Tara's shoulder, and Tara had inadvertently intertwined their fingers. This was not looking good for them.

They quickly disentangled themselves, deep blushes spreading across their faces. "Oh, no, we're not—" Iris stammered, her heart racing.

"What? No, no—" they spoke in unison, completely flustered and embarrassed.

"We're just friends," Iris clarified, trying to regain her composure, her voice a little shaky. "Best friends!"

"Omg, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to assume!" Quinn exclaimed, her face a mix of embarrassment and amusement, her cheeks flushing as she realized the misunderstanding.

Iris and Tara waved it off, trying to hide their awkwardness, while Sam stood to the side, silently laughing at the whole situation, her shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles.

After some time, Quinn excused herself, and the three friends were left alone once again, the tension still hanging in the air. "Well, that was fun. I'm just gonna go..." Iris said, signaling backward toward her room, desperate to escape the lingering awkwardness. "To my room."

Once Iris left, Sam turned to her sister with a teasing grin, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Tara, however, pointed a finger at her, ready to defend herself against any teasing that was sure to come.

"Not a word, Sam," she warned, her voice stern.

"I didn't say anything," Sam replied innocently, her grin widening as she leaned against the wall.

"You're thinking it," Tara shot back, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Everyone is thinking it" Sam quipped, unable to hold back her laughter any longer.

"Shut the fuck up".

Two weeks later, classes started. Iris adjusted her backpack as she hurried across the bustling campus of Blackmore University, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. It was her first day, and the sprawling brick buildings felt both intimidating and inviting. The crisp autumn air filled her lungs, energizing her as she navigated through a bunch of students chatting animatedly.

She finally reached her classroom, a bright, airy space filled with wooden desks and large windows that let in the golden sunlight. As she stepped inside, Iris found a seat near the front and unpacked her notebooks, eager to absorb everything she could. Just as the professor began the lecture on cognitive behavioral therapy, a girl with brown hair and a bright smile plopped down in the seat next to her. "Hey! Is this seat taken?" she asked.

"Not at all, you can sit".

"Thanks, I'm Anika". she introduced herself with an enthusiastic smile.

"Iris," she replied, returning the smile. "Nice to meet you!"

The lecture unfolded, filled with complex theories and intriguing concepts, but Iris couldn't help but sneak glances at Anika. The way she scribbled notes furiously, then made funny faces at the professor's overly serious demeanor, made Iris chuckle more than once.

As the class came to an end, Iris gathered her things, and Anika turned to her, an excited glint in her eyes. "So, what did you think of the class? Aside from the professors boring voice"

Iris laughed. "It was interesting but I'm not gonna lie, he did make me wanna go to sleep at some point"

"God, I wish we could steal their coffee" Anika quipped, her smile wide. They both stood, now surrounded by a stream of students making their way out of the classroom. "What other classes do you have today?" Anika asked as they walked down the hallway together.

"I have social psychology next. How about you?" Iris replied, feeling a sense of ease as they chatted.

"Same! I guess we're officially psychology buddies," Anika said, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

As they settled into their seats for the next class, Iris couldn't shake the feeling that she had just made her first friend. Throughout the lecture, they exchanged snarky comments and jokes, growing more comfortable with each passing moment.

After class, as they wandered outside, the campus was buzzing with energy, students lounging on the grass or rushing to their next classes. Anika turned to Iris, her expression turning more serious. "So, what made you choose psychology? Just curious."

Iris took a deep breath, thinking about how her own experiences shaped her decision. "I guess I've always been fascinated by why people do what they do, why they are willing to do things that sometimes are not morally correct" Iris had always been interested in psychology but after what happened eight months ago, it was like she had this need to understand people's actions and maybe to understand her own. She pulled the trigger that killed someone and she still doesn't feel bad about it to this day. She couldn't say all of that to Anika yet so she decided for a simpler explanation. "It feels like understanding people can help us navigate through the chaos of life. Plus, I just want to help others find their way, you know?"

Anika nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I get that. I want to figure out how to help people but also how to help myself. I mean, if we can understand our own minds, maybe we can navigate better this world."

"Exactly!" Iris said, her heart swelling with the connection. They exchanged numbers before parting ways, both feeling a spark of excitement for what lay ahead. As Iris walked back to her apartment, she couldn't help but smile at the thought of her first day.

After two months of classes at Blackmore University, they all settled pretty well into their new lives. They had already met Chad's roommate and new friend Ethan, and even though they didn't really talk, he seemed great. So she decided it was time to introduce her new friend Anika to the rest and what a better introduction to her group than a movie night.

*Hey! We're having a movie night at my place this Friday. Wanna join?* Iris sent a quick text to Anika.

Within minutes, Anika replied with an enthusiastic thumbs-up emoji and a string of excited messages. *Count me in! What are we watching?*

Iris grinned as she typed back, *Some classics, does pizza sound good to you?*

As Friday evening approached, everyone was already there, arranging cozy blankets and cushions on the floor.

"So tell me again, on a scale of 1 to 10, how pretty is your friend?" Mindy asked, her tone mischievous as she plopped down onto a cushion. Just as Iris prepared to respond, she swiftly threw a pillow at Mindy, who expertly dodged it.

"What? I'm asking an important question!" Mindy defended, her laughter echoing in the room.

"I agree with Mindy; I want to know too!" Chad chimed in, raising his hand like an eager student, a grin stretching across his face. He leaned forward, clearly invested in the banter.

"You both are disgusting. I'm not going to answer that," Iris said, rolling her eyes but unable to hide the amusement dancing in her gaze.

"So, like, a ten then?" Mindy shot back, winking at her brother, who snickered at the playful exchange.

Just then, the doorbell rang, slicing through their lighthearted conversation. Iris jumped up, a flutter of excitement in her chest, and rushed to the door. She swung it open to find Anika standing there, vibrant and cheerful, a large bag of gummy bears in one hand and a couple of cold beers in the other.

"Hi, girl!" Anika greeted as they embraced each other, stepping inside with a wide smile that radiated warmth. "Didn't know what to bring, so I brought my two faves!"

"Beer and candy? Yeah, everyone is going to love you," Iris exclaimed, grinning as she led her friend into the living room.

Chad was the first to approach, extending his hand with an inviting smile. "Hi, pleasure to meet you! We thought Iris invented herself a friend,".

"Asshole," Iris muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes at Chad's antics while stifling a laugh.

Ethan, Quinn, and Sam soon joined the introductions, each welcoming Anika with friendly smiles. Sam, however, approached a bit more cautiously. Still, she was as nice as she could be for Iris's sake.

Anika's gaze then shifted to the shorter girl in front of her, and her smile widened. "Ohh, you must be Tara!" They embraced warmly. "Iris talks about you all the time."

Iris's eyes went wide, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "The fuck, no, I do not!" she protested, trying to sound incredulous but failing to mask her embarrassment.

Tara beamed at Anika, her confidence surging. Once she heard Iris's flustered response, she couldn't resist. "I mean, she just said you do. Can't get enough of me?" Tara declared, her tone playfully bold, reveling in the moment.

"I only talk about how much you annoy me," Iris shot back, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at Tara, who laughed heartily, her joy infectious.

Tara turned around just in time to see Anika mouthing to her, "No, that's not true," and the girl couldn't help but smile. Oh, Tara really liked Anika.

Tara moved closer, a playful glint in her eye as she threw the pillow back at Iris, leaning in as she did. "You're extremely red," she teased, enjoying Iris's flustered reaction.

"No, I'm not!" Iris protested, her voice a little too defensive.

"Like, actually crimson," Tara quipped, laughter bubbling in her throat.

"Go to hell Carpenter".

"I just love to annoy you".

"Yeah well I'm going to love to push you out of the balcony".

Anika then turned her attention to the last person she hadn't met yet. She found herself in front of a strikingly attractive woman with curly hair, who was staring at her with her mouth slightly agape, as if trying to process the situation.

"Hi, I'm Anika," she said, her smile bright and amused as she took in the girl's stunned expression.

"H...hi, I'm Min...dy," Mindy stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. The moment was comically awkward, and both Chad and Iris exchanged glances, barely able to contain their laughter at the sight of Mindy's flustered face.

"Nice to meet you Mindy"

"Yeah same". Mindy came out of her stupor. "Please make yourself comfortable". And she proceed to show her around the apartment.

"It's not even her apartment". Iris said.

"Let her be gay in peace".

As the evening unfolded, soon laughter filled the room as they settled in. Mindy, strategically positioned herself next to Anika. Even with the movie playing, they all stayed up talking. Mindy and Anika continued to find ways to strike up a conversation with each other, it seemed that they had a lot in common. Anika cracked an extremely funny joke at one point, to which Mindy gave a loud snort.

"Did I really just laugh-snort? Oh no." She was embarrassed as Anika just giggled in endearment.

"It was cute".

Iris stared at her two friends lightly flirting with each other and she couldn't help but smile at Mindy's face, she was in complete awe as she listened to everything Anika had to say.

Well, mission get Mindy and Anika together just started.

[miradelletarot]

Gale Distraction Time:

I wonder how many times Gale is thrown off by Tav's very minor, normal yet caring, actions once things are said and done in their adventures. Or hell, things that could have happened in down time at camp that were too minute to really put a whole cutscenes towards. Things that seems so ordinary, but that Gale has done without for so long he doesn't even recognize.

Examples that come to my mind.

Throwing a blanket over him if he's reading and seems cold.

Handing him the next ingredient he needs while he's cooking.

Taking his hand to massage pressure points when he has a headache or muscles when he makes a straining noise.

A random hug from behind when he's struggling with some research at his desk.

Bringing him a drink or snack when he's been too immersed in a project to realize they're needed.

I could probably continue for a while, but point is, he has been on his own too long. Tara can only do so much. And even when he was with Mystra, you know it's not a relationship he was cared for in this manner. He'd do something for himself once it became necessary, but to have somebody think of it, and help or comfort? Just simple actions like this, I think, for him, would be foreign for some time.

Oh these are just lovely! Maybe I am biased, but I totally see Sagora doing all of this for Gale...especially as feelings develop during their adventure. Of course, I imagine any Tav would be this sweet to our favorite wizard. **this post inspired a little (sfw) treato so i hope you like it lol** _____________ You notice Gale was unusually absent from this evening's dinner around the campfire. It wasn't like him to call for supper then suddenly leave for his tent. You decide to give him some space for now, and eat your meal with the others, but the nagging in the back of your mind sours your appetite. You walk over to his tent and, upon hearing the shuffling of books within, you call out his name softly so as not to startle him. "Oh...Tav. Come in." His usually cheerful tone was strained, and weary. When you walk in you see that the book he was trying to read is splayed out on his lap, open to the page he left off on, and his head buried in his hands as he tries to massage his temples. He groans inwardly trying to will away whatever pain he's feeling. You kneel beside him, and gently place your hand on his thigh, gazing at him with worried eyes. "Here," you say softly, as you take one of his hands between both of yours. "Just relax." Your warm whisper hums in the space between you, and his head lulls back against the heap of pillows he's created for himself. You begin to knead the soft flesh between his thumb and pointer finger, massaging it slightly until you search for the pressure point. He inhales sharply, wincing at the jolt of pain that courses through his hand. It takes seconds for him to exhale, his shoulders dropping along with his escaping breath as the tension begins to melt. "Gods," he breathed. "I don't know what you're doing exactly...but it seems to be having a wonderous effect on this cursed headache." You smile as you slowly release his pressure point, and massage his hand. You gently set his hand down on his lap, and reach for the other, repeating your ministrations just as before. When you place his other hand in his lap, you shift to get a better angle, and begin to massage his temples, his scalp, even reaching for his hairbrush, and combing through his wavy locks in hopes that the repeated care will help soothe him further. It's only when you notice that not only are his eyes closed, his breathing has slipped into a soft, even rhythm. "Gale?" You whisper.

Silence. You smile softly at how beautiful he looks when he's asleep...at peace. It takes a great deal of effort to move through the tent without tripping on a book, or a stack of parchment he's left lying around, but you manage, and fetch a thin blanket that's sitting at the foot of his bedroll. Without even moving the book from his lap, you fan the blanket out with a soft flick, and float it down over the sleeping wizard. "Goodnight, Gale."

[sae1549]

Tags: fluff, established relationship, after events of the final fight, Gale x female reader

Word count: 865

I have not written in a long time, but I wanted to write something sweet. I’m sorry if it is terrible. I also couldn’t get it out of my head that Gale would call his partner “Goddess”

————————————————————————

After the events of the elder brain, you and Gale settle down in Baldur’s gate. There was a large portion of time where Gale had never seen you so relaxed. When he would get home from work and would see you curled up with Tara while you were practicing your incantations. He adored watching you working so hard on something he also loved. He tried not to interrupt you while you were working. Quietly slipping off into the bedroom, to get into something more suitable for home activities. He hears soft whirring sounds and the words “Amicus Animalis” you say softly. Tara gives a soft hum.

“You look so similar to Gale when you do this.” She states. While Gale returns to you in the lounge. You raise your head to smile at the man.

“Hello goddess, how have your afternoon activities come along?” He asks while leaning down to pick up one of the many books lying about on the floor in front of where you sat.

“It’s been alright, I was reading over some Latin terms in that book to help pronounce my spells more accurately.” You answered truthfully to the wizard who stands before you.

“Ah, tricky sometimes. But with practice you will get the hang of things.” He smiled softly looking through the pages, dog earring a few of them to be looked through later. Tara standing up and stretching, before walking to the balcony to bask in the sunlight. You smiled, and slowly took the blanket that had been a soft bedding for Tara off your lap, folding it and setting it onto the sofa next to you.

“How was teaching today?” You asked, finally standing and stepping your way around the elaborate maze of books on the floor.

“Many of my students are coming along in their studies, a few are having trouble channeling the weave. But, nothing that time and effort will not fix.” He sets his hands on your sides as you hug him gently feeling the warmth of his body on your skin. He gently moved a few strands of hair away from your face placing a kiss onto your forehead. You take a step back, looking at him once more.

“Well it is getting late, how about we start to make something to eat?” He asked while taking your hand and leading you to the kitchen.

“And how about for some practice you conjure a helping hand?” He asked, he did enjoy helping you practice. Even if it was small things, so you could get acquainted with conjuring.

“I can try, but no laughing at me this time.” You say with a pout on your face. The last time you did this the hand dissipated within moments after lifting a bowl. Causing it to smash on the floor. He chuckles while opening the cabinet taking out a few different pans.

“Well, I didn't mean to have you hear me laugh that time to be completely fair.” He said while you held your hand out concentrating.

“Veniam luva me” you spoke, small blue sparks shot out of your fingers moments later mage hand appeared through a blue mist. The hand moves, opening the fridge, taking a bowl out of the fridge. You were able to hold it out longer than last time, at least making it until Gale no longer needed help.

“Goddess, you did beautifully.” He complimented, you sighed as mage hand dissipated into the same blue mist. He set a bowl down in front of you before he sat down next to you.

“That is a lot harder than it looks, I cannot believe how easy you make it look to do more complicated spells.” You complimented back as you both enjoyed the dinner that he had made for the both of you. Tara came back into the lounge once the sun had set. As it had started to become darker within the house. You turned to look at the fireplace. Small sparks had started to flow from your fingers as you got up and lit a small piece of branch on fire, setting it into the fireplace with the dried logs. The fire caught onto the rest of the wood.

“Wonderful, you have gotten quite good with that spell.” Gale spoke gently while he cleaned up after your dinner. You went around the lounge picking up the books that you had been reading much earlier in the day.

“What would you like to read tonight?” You asked, scanning through the countless books that were stacked on the floor and shelves.

“Hmm, I think I shall read The Annals of Karsus.” He responded after finishing with the dishes. You nodded, grabbing it from one of the higher shelves and setting it down on his side of the couch. You grabbed a different book from the shelves and sat down onto your side of the couch. He sat down beside you while he grabbed the book. You cuddled up next to him while Tara hopped up onto your lap and made herself comfortable. The rest of the night was spent reading and soft whispers and him showing you different passages as you did as well.

[astrxq]

can you write more mindy meeks martin fluff please!! i loved ur playing cupid fluff, and i was just wondering if you could do a part two, or maybe just another story with mindy fluff! :)

lost and found

mindy meeks x fem!reader

words: 1.2k

Chad had always been the romantic one; he had a deep love for romantic comedies. When they were younger, on movie nights, he would be the first to suggest watching a tooth-rotting romance. But Mindy... Mindy was different. She hated romance movies, always finding them unrealistic. Maybe because, deep down, she knew she related to them. Her first love was when she was 16, an unrequited and painful memory for her.

She wouldn't admit it to Chad if he asked, because why would he ask? They hadn't seen each other since they were 18, and it's not like they were particularly close friends. But now, at 19, your username was always at the top of Mindy's recent searches. Sometimes she couldn't stop herself from checking on you, seeing what was going on in your life.

Mindy's curiosity about your life was a guilty pleasure she indulged in secretly. She often found herself scrolling through your social media profiles, trying to piece together the fragments of your life since you were both teenagers. The irony wasn't lost on her — disliking romance yet finding herself drawn to the romance of your experiences, even from a distance. It was her little secret, a habit she kept hidden from all her friends, because it had been years since you unintentionally broke her heart.

So, when Chad initiated the topic of first loves because of his roommate going through a breakup, she felt the need to zone out, not to listen, because she related to what her brother was saying. "You can never really forget your first love, Ethan, but you'll move on, you'll be fine," he reassured. The curly-haired boy nodded along, his eyes distant as he stared down at his hands, lost in his own thoughts. Mindy's heart raced, and she tried her best to feign interest in the conversation, all the while wondering if Chad would ever bring up her own first crush again. After all, the past had a funny way of resurfacing at the most unexpected moments.

She felt Tara elbow her arm slightly, urging her to say something to the sad boy sitting across from her with Chad's arm draped over his shoulders in comfort. Mindy shrugged, not knowing how to contribute to the situation. She'd never really liked Ethan, always thinking there was something off about him.

"Say something," Tara whispered, eyeing Ethan as he rubbed his eye with the back of his hand, wiping away the single tear that had fallen. Mindy sighed, "I know things might seem tough right now, but Chad's right. You'll be fine, and you'll move on."

Lies.

She was lying to him, and he could tell. He looked at her as if he knew, as if he could read her like an open book. And suddenly, Mindy felt very small under Ethan's sad gaze. "Thanks, guys," he muttered, going back to staring down at his hands sadly. Mindy couldn't help but let out a shaky breath, relating too much to the friend she disliked.

She couldn't really sleep that night; her mind was clouded by the worry of never moving on. The digital traces of your life, the posts, the photos, they all served as constant reminders of something she wished she could forget. Tara groaned in frustration as Mindy tossed around again, "Go to sleep," she mumbled. "Sorry, roomie," Mindy whispered, finally standing from her bed. "I'm going on a walk." Tara hummed, too tired to listen, and falling back asleep. Mindy slipped out of her room and into the cool night air. She walked around the quiet streets for a while, not really knowing where she was going. Eventually, she found herself standing at a park bench, staring out at the stillness of an empty park. She looked down at her phone and sighed as she sat back in defeat.

"Mindy Meeks?"

She had to be imagining it. She had to be. The second your voice hit her ears, she sat up, looking at the figure standing a few feet away. It was you. You stood there, a faint smile on your face as you gazed at her. Only a year had passed, and you still looked the same, a familiar mix of comfort and unease settling within her.

"Oh my god! It's been so long," you chirped, taking a few steps closer to where Mindy sat. She managed a nervous smile, "Yeah, it really has," she replied, her voice a tad shaky.

You eyed the empty space next to her, “What are you doing in New York?” you asked, nervously fixing the strap of the bag on your shoulder. You’d always noticed Mindy in school, but the two of you had never really crossed paths beyond that; you admired her from afar.

Mindy cleared her throat, trying to steady her voice as she replied, "I'm here for college. Just moved here a little while ago."

“Oh, that’s so nice,” you cooed and smiled at her, so warm that Mindy felt like she was melting under your gaze. “Are you studying here too?” You shook your head, “Gap year, I have no idea what to do yet. I’m working just down the street.”

Mindy nodded, her heart racing as she processed the unexpected encounter. "That's cool," she managed to say, her mind racing to keep up with the conversation as she tried not to think too much about the fact that you looked even prettier.

You glanced around the park and then back at Mindy, a hint of curiosity in your eyes. “Am I... I’m sorry, are you waiting on somebody?”

Mindy's heart skipped a beat at your question, her mind racing for an answer. "Oh, no, I was just... taking a breather," she stammered, feeling her cheeks heat up slightly.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” you made a move to step away, kind of feeling like you intruded on her alone time. “We could catch up some other time? If you want.” You raised your eyebrows in hope, silently wishing for her to say yes, to finally let yourself feel for her. “Coffee?” you asked.

Mindy nodded, “Coffee sounds nice.” You breathed out a smile in delight. “Great! How about tomorrow afternoon? There's this cozy little café I know just a few blocks from here."

Mindy nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Tomorrow sounds perfect." She realized she was smiling too, unable to suppress her genuine happiness at the thought of seeing you again. You hummed, pushing your lips together in a tight smile as you prepared for your next question.

“It’s a date?”

"Yeah, it's a date," she managed to reply, her voice tinged with a shy smile. "I'll see you tomorrow then," you said, your own smile widening as you turned to leave. Mindy watched you walk away, her face starting to hurt from smiling so hard. Tara muttered a “shut up” as Mindy closed the front door to their dorm, and she shook fully awake once Mindy pulled the blanket off of her body. “Hey!”

“I have a date.”

“Huh?” Tara rubbed her eyes, trying to get used to the dim light of the hallway that Mindy had turned on

 just seconds before. “You just ask strangers on dates at... 4 am?”

Mindy pressed her lips together, motioning for her friend to scoot over and give her room to sit on the bed; Tara obliged. “It’s with Y/N.”

“What?!” Tara grinned, “Min, that’s so good!” She made a move to jump up and down excitedly. “She’s in New York? How did this even happen?” Tara asked as many questions as possible in less than a minute, making Mindy laugh as her friend shared the same excitement as her. “Just... go back to sleep, I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“Oh my god, why did you even wake me up then?” she groaned.

A few minutes passed, and Tara dramatically sighed out loud. “I can’t sleep now, can’t you just tell me?”

"Boo fucking hoo, Tara."

The excitement mixed with a hint of anxiety had Mindy’s stomach in knots. As she walked to the café, her thoughts were a whirlwind of what-ifs and hopes. She arrived a little early, finding a cozy corner table to sit at to wait for you, and she couldn't stop smiling, shying away when she saw her friends sitting at a table a bit far, pretending not to know what she was there for.

Minutes later, the door chimed, and there you were, entering the café with that same warm smile that made Mindy lose her mind for so long. Your eyes met hers, and her heart fluttered as you made your way over to her table.

"Hey," you said softly, your smile widening as you pulled out the chair across from her and took a seat. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do this,” you admitted. “I thought about texting you so many times, but after… well, you know. I didn’t know if it was the right time.” Mindy felt like her chest was going to explode at your words, realizing that maybe you’d wanted her just as much as she wanted you, that maybe her heartbreak was just in her head.

“I understand,” she said. She’d gotten too many texts after the stabbings, most of them still sitting unanswered in her inbox due to her being too overwhelmed to text back at the time. “I don’t really talk to anyone from school now. Well, aside from Tara and Chad.”

"Did all of you move here together?”

“Figured we should stick together,” Mindy added, biting the inside of her lip. “So, how have you been?” you asked, your eyes locked onto hers, the genuine interest in your gaze making her heart race.

"Pretty good," Mindy replied, trying to maintain her composure despite the fluttering in her chest. "College has its ups and downs, but I'm managing."

You chuckled softly, leaning back in your chair. "Gap year isn't as glamorous as it sounds. Work has me going to bed at nine." Mindy joined in on your giggle, knowing that college had also changed her sleep schedule. “Oh, I forgot to ask! What are you majoring in?”

“Film making, but I’m not sure if I wanna dedicate my life to it yet? I have to think about it.”

“Ah, you and your films,” you sighed, giving her a smile, “I remember my friends showing me that homemade one you made with Tara in seventh grade.”

“Oh! Don’t even mention it,” she cringed. “We even sent it to some producers we found online. I wouldn’t be surprised if they burned their laptops down after watching it; it was horrible.”

You laughed, thinking back to Tara’s ketchup-covered shirt and how, even though it was supposed to be a horror movie, you could hear Mindy’s giggles from behind the old phone camera. “Everyone at school loved it,” you admitted, “and it was adorable. I've always admired your creativity.”

Mindy felt like her chest was about to explode, and from the corner of her eye, she could see Chad giving her a smile and nodding at her, pretending to know what you two were talking about. "Well, I think I've improved a bit since then," she said, laughing softly.

You leaned forward, elbows on the table and a grin plastered on your face as you listened to Mindy, trying your hardest not to stare too much. “You could show me someday?” you suggested. Mindy nodded quickly before taking a long sip of her cup in nervousness. “Definitely, yeah. I could show you now if you want?”

“What? Like… in your dorm room?” Her offer caught you off guard, and you chuckled nervously. "Uh, sure, if you're up for it. I'd love to see your work." The prospect of spending more time with her excited you, even if it was just watching a film.

Without hesitation, Mindy stood from her chair and gave you another one of her smiles, signaling for you to stand up too. She reached for your hand the second you were next to her, making both of your chests feel heavier.

You let her practically drag you to the building, her being only two steps ahead of you as she excitedly showed you the way. Still holding onto your hand, she reached for the keys. You watched as she struggled to pick them into the lock, her excitement making her hands tremble. "Here we are," she said, finally managing to unlock the door and swing it open, revealing a modestly decorated dorm room.

As you stepped inside, the familiarity of the environment made you feel oddly comfortable. Mindy's room was neat and cozy, filled with posters of movies and a scattering of books across a small desk. You glanced around, taking in the intimate details that gave you a glimpse into her life.

"Make yourself at home, mi casa es tu casa," Mindy said, still holding your hand as she gestured toward the small seating area with a couch and a couple of bean bags. She released your hand with a soft smile before walking over to her desk and rifling through a pile of DVDs.

You settled onto the couch, taking in the surroundings as your heart raced with the proximity to her. Everything was color-coded; Tara’s side of the room was more purple-ish, with lilac pillows on the bed and a lavender throw blanket, while Mindy's side leaned towards warm shades of yellow and orange. There was a picture frame on the small table next to the couch. Mindy’s grin caught your attention, and you took your chance to give into your curiosity and looked at her friends. Chad had his arm around Tara’s much smaller frame, his mouth half curved into a smile while also kissing her head.

"I hope you're not expecting a masterpiece," she chuckled, sinking into the couch.

She held three DVDs in her hands, each with a different title scribbled on it with a black marker. You scooted closer to her, giving her a small smile, “I’m sure they’re great.”

You watched as Mindy moved to dim the lights and worked the DVD into the TV. “How come you use DVDs?” you asked.

“It's a bit nostalgic, I guess," Mindy replied as she settled back onto the couch. "Plus, I have a soft spot for physical copies.”

She pressed play before moving to sit down next to you, a redhead showing up on the screen.

 “That’s Quinn; she’s one of my friends,” she said.

As the film played, you found yourself drawn into the story, occasionally stealing glances at Mindy. She seemed just as captivated by her own creation, her eyes occasionally lighting up with pride at certain scenes. Her hand itched to hold yours, moving very slowly towards you.

Your hands finally brushed against each other on the couch. Mindy's heart raced at the touch, and she glanced at you with a shy smile. You looked back at her, your fingers brushing against hers once more, and this time, neither of you pulled away.

As the film’s credits came on the screen, the room was filled with a comfortable silence. Mindy turned to you, her eyes locking onto yours, and she felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement swirling within her. "So, what did you think?" she asked, her voice soft and hopeful.

You turned to her, your gaze unwavering. "I loved it," you admitted, "you're really talented, Mindy."

Her heart soared at your words, a rush of happiness flooding her. "Thank you," she whispered, a bashful smile playing on her lips.

Her hand reached out and gently intertwined your fingers with hers, a simple touch that held so much meaning.

Your breath caught in your throat at the intimacy of the gesture. You looked into her eyes, your heart pounding as you realized the connection you longed for was reciprocated.

The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world. You hesitated, thinking that maybe it was too early to make a move, but you took your chance and leaned in, closing the distance between you. Mindy's heart raced even faster. Your lips met in a soft, hesitant kiss, filled with the weight of years of unspoken emotions.

It was a gentle exploration, a tender acknowledgment of the feelings that had lingered beneath the surface for so long. And as you pulled away, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, Mindy felt a warmth spreading through her chest.

“Maybe… maybe we should take things slow,” you suggested, pushing your lips together. Mindy chuckled.

“That sounds like a good idea," Mindy replied, her fingers still intertwined with yours. "I've waited this long; I can definitely be patient…”

“… We can still kiss, right? Cause I’d really like that. Like a lot.”

A laugh made its way out of you as you squeezed her hand. “Yeah, yeah.”

Mindy's heart fluttered with happiness at your words, and she leaned in for another sweet kiss, sealing your unspoken agreement to take things slow.

[adaptacy]

A Found Flame {Pt.10}

Pairing: Mentor!Gale Dekarios x Apprentice!GN!Reader

(Previous Chapter) - (Next Chapter) ➔ (AO3)

Word Count: 2k

His hand squeezes shut, fingers curling into a firm fist, his eyes following the grooves of the large veins that trail beneath his skin. His elbow rests on his knee, and he finds it mildly surprising that his hand bears no trembles. He relaxes, and the veins fade into obscurity, easing beneath his skin. Again, he tenses, and before long, they appear again.

“Numb?” A man hums, and Gale looks up from the fallen log he sits on, immediately giving up his studies and shifting into a more normal position, his hands folded in front of him as he sits up, looking at the white-haired elf standing before him.

“Pardon?”

“You looked as though you expected it to fall off. Or perhaps sprout into a tentacle. I only ask because I figure I’d rather hear about any transformations before they take place and we’re forced to slaughter you,” he sighs, and then motions towards Gale’s hand. “So?”

“Fortunately, it would take approximately seven days for ceremorphosis to fully set in, so any unwanted evolutions are a few horizons away. Alas, I’m hardly comforted at our lack of immediate help, but…” Gale scoots back on the log, and then slightly to the left, in case Astarion had any intentions of sitting down, but he doesn’t seem to. “Still perfectly human.”

“Oh, how… pleasant. Though I’d argue the validity of a title such as ‘perfect’, I’ll save you the insult,” Astarion teases, and Gale puts up an awkward smile, not entirely sure how to take it in any way other than personally. “I’ll keep watch tonight. Decided I should let you know so you don’t risk stressing yourself out by staying up past your bedtime,” he chuckles. 

“That’s awfully altruistic of you. Much appreciated.”

“But of course – I’m nothing if not altruistic.” Astarion dips his head and wanders back over towards one of three bedrolls – two that they had scavenged, and one that Gale had conjured up – that he takes a seat on, warming his pale hands by the fire. Shadowheart rests on the opposite side, already attempting her hand at rest, which given the chaos of the day, Gale was sure would come easy to her. 

He wasn’t sure he’d be so lucky. Beyond the sudden shift of going from a bed that felt as if it was made to host royalty itself to the thin cloth of a bedroll on dirt, he found his thoughts far too active to make any attempt to quiet them. What a day it had been, indeed. 

He should’ve been in the company of a good book and the warm firelight of a room at a tavern. Curled up in a mildly comfortable bed, at least with a blanket over him, pillows beneath his head. Alas, he was instead in the company of two complete strangers, an illithid tadpole, and the stars. 

At least the stars were pleasant. 

Not to say the more lively company was unwanted; it had been quite a while since he’d truly engaged with people for more than just trade barters, and he’d gotten too comfortable with Tara and his apprentice. It was strange to suddenly be thrust into completely unfamiliar territory and reminded of such distant memories of socialization. In his defense, his traveling partners were also rather… strange. 

He was owed no right to their secrets, but even so, they were quite reserved. Shadowheart was quiet, but seemed a good decision maker, and plenty helpful between her original act of rescuing him, and patching him up both from the wound he’d inflicted on himself and patching both he and Astarion up after a run-in with quadrupedal brains with an intense thirst for violence. She clearly held back, though he’d gotten a glimpse of a slightly more talkative side of her whenever she’d made one or two quick, sarcastic quips targeted at the two men. 

Astarion was impossible to get a read on. He seemed entirely focused on his own survival, more akin to an unwilling child being dragged along with the two of them than a willing fellow adventurer. He also had an air of self-importance about him, and was far from afraid of hurting their feelings, as he loudly and confidently called out any of their mistakes, ensuring his opinion was understood by all. With what little Gale could collect from him, he saw a bit of himself in the elf – Gale found himself with a quiet doubt following each of Astarion’s words. If his own experiences had taught him anything, Gale figured the deflective, imposing nature of each of his comments was something of a defense mechanism. 

Or he could’ve been a snobby royal. Truly, Gale couldn’t figure that one out, and he understood asking such a forthright question would earn him nothing but a snarky, sarcastic remark of disbelief from Astarion, and even if he was a snobby royal, he’d likely never be granted any sort of confirmation. 

And Gale had bigger things to worry about. 

After tonight, he’d have six days. He’d start experiencing the symptoms tomorrow, should his studies prove true. But the symptoms weren’t his worst concern. 

However much he believed his comrades were keeping secrets from him, he knew he was no better. He had been entirely silent about the orb, and strangely enough, it too had been silent. Even when he’d cast spells he hadn’t cast in years past, when he channeled and called upon the weave, it granted him no reaction. Not a single beat, not a sudden spike in appetite, not an angry bellowing of disagreement, or the pain that he’d grown so accustomed to feeling each time he cast a spell. 

It was still. Gale believed it the status of a predator, lying in wait for an unsuspecting victim, still and silent enough to blend in perfectly with the surroundings, near invisible to the unquestioning eyes of its prey. 

The tadpole, on the other hand, had been quite active. Writhing and twisting everytime it feared Gale may forget his new occupant, though it was an impossible feat to say the least. He knew precisely what would happen if they failed to find a cure. His skin would not be the only thing to burst upon an unwarranted evolution – the orb would likely detonate along with the rest of his body, and he suspected even a tentacled face would not manage to survive such a blast. 

Neither would his surroundings. His companions may have been strangers at best, but he still wished them no harm, and they would not be the only ones to feel the orb’s wrath. Whatever communities they might stumble upon would quickly be wiped out, and innocent lives along with them. 

How long would it take for his only two friends to realize he was not returning to them? How long would it take for them to understand and accept that he was gone?

He’d promised them. Promised them he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Sworn to them that he would not die without a fair and certain farewell. Even if he did find someplace to die where it would not hurt those around him, he would never die satisfied. Not even in eternal rest would he find any semblance of peace.

He has not yet said goodbye. And so he cannot die. 

What a strange feeling, to yearn for survival. How unfamiliar it had grown for him. No more than two days ago, he’d been satisfied to embark north and accept death’s cold embrace. Just this morning he had attempted to plunge a dagger into the orb, albeit he’d hardly been pleased at the situation. 

But tonight, he had made a promise, and he had every intention to keep it. He had an obligation to keep it. 

And the orb was so dreadfully silent. He’d never known it to sleep before. Even if it was merely feigning absence, it was foreign to him. Without the insistent reminders, he felt himself again. For the first time in nearly two years, he felt like Gale Dekarios. He felt like Mystra’s chosen. He felt like his mother’s son. 

But he’d become the host for another insatiable, and rather annoying, to-be beast, which at this very moment was happy to squirm behind his eye, instilling an immediate reminder of his circumstance. 

What he’d give for a shot at normalcy again. For one more chance. A chance to obey. A chance to be satisfied with everything he’d been granted. A chance to maintain his sense of self. A chance to see his mother again without the guilt of his actions. A chance to be loved by Mystra, however restrained it might have felt. 

Gods, if he only knew what restraint truly was back then. He’d always yearned for so much more – never believing her fleeting affections to be enough. At least he’d had some of her affections. Now, he found himself completely lacking (and missing) such generous displays. 

He wonders whether he’d been satisfied if he understood what the possibilities were. If he’d known back then the true flavor of failure, the abyss of loneliness, the all-consuming blight of regret – had he settled for the love he had? Had he settled for the limits of his power, the limits of Mystra’s time, the limits of her saccharine intrigue? 

He could have been the Great Gale of Waterdeep. He could’ve been Mystra’s chosen. Why that wasn’t enough, he hardly understands. In comparison to the shell he is now, he had perfection. He had everything he should’ve wanted. 

If he’d succeeded – if he’d acquired, safely, this fragment of the far reaches of the weave, if he had knelt before her and presented it as a gift of the finest quality, if he had handed her the final piece of her puzzle, would she complete him in return? Would she affirm him as her best? Would she grant him a few extra moments of her time? A few extra glimpses of her love?

Or would she withdraw? Claim his gift, claim him, and return to the weave? 

Perhaps, in learning so much from her, so too did her ambition find its way into his motivations. Never before had he felt he truly satisfied her. Her praise was no less shallow than a puddle, and certainly no deeper. Any satisfaction he did manage to bestow upon her was entirely fleeting. 

At least she’d been convincing in his younger years. Her approval so graciously hummed into his ear at every successful spell, seeming to him as if he’d truly managed to impress his goddess. But her smiles seemed less earnest in time. He’d believed earning her love and lust was sure to be followed by only brighter horizons, yet her eyes seemed only to dim, her words grew just harsh enough to instill anxiety, fearful that he might risk her disapproval. 

To fail his goddess was to fail his talent. To think, he feared losing her so terribly that he managed to drive her further away than he ever could’ve imagined possible. 

Gale curls his hand into a fist once more, watching his veins contract. He is a mere mortal. To ever believe he would be more than a muse for the embodiment of his faith was unreasonable. For all the compliments targeted at his ambition, he found it no more than a haunting flaw. To manage ambition after one is stripped of potential is no trait to be envied, much rather one to be ashamed of. 

He relaxes, and stands, making his way over to the campfire and kneeling on the thin hide of his bedroll, watching the flames for a few seconds before lowering himself further, eventually coming to rest on his side. His eyes close, and he decides to lend sleep an opportunity. 

At least temporary peace is still, most assuredly, peace. 

And some is better than none.

[we-staybhaalin]

For my beloved Nettlebane and Gale!

What happens if one of them gets sick?

Describe their first date.

Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

What reminds each of their partner?

Do they have any hobbies they share?

What are there thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?

Who's more likely to do something out of spite?

BONUS: Are they looking for a partner? Asking for a friend... 👀

Ooh! Thank you for the ask!

What happens if one of them gets sick? -

Gale particularly strikes me as the sort that might be a little dramatic about getting sick. He'd try to push Nettie off even though she's 1) a cleric and 2) very obviously aware that he's sick. Luckily for Nettlebane, Tara is a very useful ally to have in the battle of Making the Wizard Get Bedrest, so she can easily call in a ringer and have Tara sit on his chest until she's done whipping up some medicine or soup for him to eat. Secretly, he very much loves being doted on but publicly he'll gripe about it for about a day. The only thing she can't win on is letting him bring a book to bed so he'll often sit up reading while he's recovering and she'll let him have that. Otherwise, she keeps his work locked up and way out of reach until he fully recovers.

Nettlebane doesn't get sick often but when she does, Gale has to pull out every trick in the book to convince her to stay in bed. He's a decent cook so he can very much make her get some rest. Nettie usually is the "caretaker" and the person that looks after everyone's wellbeing but regarding her own, she can be a bit neglectful. Trying to convince her to stay down takes getting on her level and understanding that her brain is pushing her in a way her body can't accommodate and Gale does have to coax her to bed however he can. Usually, his soups put her right out and, prior to her teaching him how to make her medicine, he and Tara would take a walk to a healer and stockpile some medicine while she sleeps. When he gets back, he'll have the piano strum a soft lullaby and he'll get back to his work. He knows she's woken up when he starts hearing a voice humming alongside the piano and he'll give her the medicine then.

Describe their first date.

Canonically, their first date was him showing her the inside of his tower in game. But headcanon, he does get a chance to do things properly so he pays for her travels to Waterdeep and starts first with taking her around the city. He wanted their first official date together to be just about the two of them. I'm imagining him taking her along the waterfront and laying out dinner on a boat with only them on it. Beneath the stars and with the shimmering lights of Waterdeep in the back, he'd ask her about all her old friends and get to know the Bells even more through her stories. He'd tell her exactly who he was before they met and they'd take the time to really get to know each other the way they couldn't with the Absolute Crisis hanging over them.

He'd hear about her being a young girl given away to a temple and who found refuge in Alris, Caress, and Sharess. She'd learn about the boy who's first love was magic, not the goddess who controls it.

After dinner and docking back, he'd take her on a walk through one of the more scenic parks in the city. Through the neighborhood he grew up in. Through the places most people don't know about in Waterdeep that he frequents.

He'd end the date back at his tower and he'd ask her then show her everything in his tower that he showed her in their date in the Weave. Nettie would touch absolutely everything in the room and ask a million questions about a lot of it. He'd answer all of them with a smile on his face. When they get to the balcony, she'd stare out into the harbor and up at the brilliant stars dotting the sky. They'd share that moment of silence together and they'd fall into a conversation about all they have been through together, what the future they want with each other is.

They'd have each other on the floor of his balcony beneath the stars. His knees will be screaming in the morning.

Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

I don't think so but there were definitely moments in their relationship where clashes happened. Leading up to him learning how to forge the Crown of Karsus, he would have posited the question about attaining and controlling that power, something she would have not agreed with. I think the crux of their arguments stem from Gale's knowing--he is ambitious and, as someone who has worked at his craft, when he is certain that he has an answer he is assertive about it. I think his arrogance can color how he shapes his perspective, but Nettlebane would have heard the sincerity in his pleas and what he gets back in turn teaches him about her.

When she is assured of her perspective, she approaches with warmth and stands stone solid. She does not yell although her voice will raise a bit. She does not get mean or biting. She is gentle but she will not be moved. Her sincerity and way with words slap him down, but with a calm that cuts to the heart of the issue, so much that it startles him sometimes. Nettie's opinion matters a great deal to Gale too, so when she speaks, he makes a big effort to listen.

I think they both know where they stand at the heart of things and it's that understanding that keeps their disagreements from blowing up into something more. They'd pick at each other post-game because she can sometimes be a bit overbearing and he's still...Gale. But arguments that happen between them would probably be pretty rare.

Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

Litost by X Ambassadors

What reminds each of their partner?

Gale sees Nettie in a lot of little things--a very interesting little bauble, the jovial laughter of a group of people stumbling out of a festhall, and the warmth of the sun on his face. He'd think of her face lighting up at the tiny bauble and her cooing over it. He'd think of the way she'd shimmy over to the partygoers stirring up a raunchy ballad that they'd steadily join along in as they scoop her right back inside. He'd see her standing in the soft rays of an evening sun, the sky alight with pink and gold and orange, and he could hear her voice, "and so we are gifted the thread of Sharess, the golden hour of evening caresses our desires and floods our beings with Her warmth."

Nettie feels Gale in much of what she does with her magic. I think once he gets a chance, there's definitely some lessons here and there to help her hone her casting abilities. It's the phantom sensation of his hands laid over hers, moving long fingers in the motions it takes to cast and hers bending to his will. She feels his smile at the back of her head as she's thumbing through books and wanders over to the more interesting selections--a book on the art of romantic etiquette within far off societies and another on types of wine served during a dinner party denoting societal status.

Do they have any hobbies they share?

They are both very big on cooking and often times will be in the kitchen, whipping up a grand meal for two people (and a tressym!).

What are their thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?

They both would love them a lot. Gale defaults to "my love" usually but Nettlebane will call him anything ranging between "honey" and "Professor Dekarios." If she calls him "Gale," he's in trouble.

Who's more likely to do something out of spite?

Gale. Nettie can be mischievous but she's not very spiteful unless it involves her friends.

Gale, however, is an arrogant former level 20 wizard who now teaches children for a living. He has to have a little vinegar in him to deal with some of the people he works with daily.

Bonus: Are they looking for a partner? Asking for a friend...👀

Now Raz, you know Gale doesn't like sharing lololol

Nettlebane would absolutely go for it if he was okay with it but since he's got that hard boundary set, she wouldn't cross it.

[captainlilyuniverseworld]

Forever and Always

Whoops, I slipped and wrote a follow up in class

Forever and Always

Gale hummed under his breath as he made his way to Sorcerous Sundries, the book he'd ordered nearly a month ago had arrived. The letter has been almost swallowed by all the other pieces of mail. 

Most of it, as usual, was for Astarion. Thank you letters for his assistance funding the rebuilding of Baldur's Gate. Invitations to dinner parties. People he consulted with for whatever reason. 

Gale didn't ask. He didn't want to know. 

Gale only received letters from his mother. And those weren't very often either. He never knew what to say to her when the time actually came to write back. He didn’t think Astarion would stoop so low as to actually read his mail. Even so he always gave the standard response. 

‘I’m doing well. My book is coming along nicely, might even talk to the Bladur’s Mouth about printing some excerpts. Astarion is good as well. Busy with all his endeavors. How is Tara? Not still cross with me I hope?’ 

Sometimes he managed to include a few gifts. Something he thought his mother would enjoy. She’d stopped asking to visit, he never gave her any direct answers. 

Astarion could have many things, and Gale was willing to do many things, but he wasn’t going to subject his mother to Astarion’s volatile temperament. 

“Morning, Gale,” the woman behind the counter yawned. 

“Good morning Iris,” he smiled at the bookseller. “Early morning?” 

“We’ve had a hoard of students, mostly young mages and sorcerers descend on this place like mindflayers at an all you can eat brain feast,” she yawned again. “Spent most of the night setting things to sorts again.” 

“If you’d sent word I would have gladly come to assist,” he told her. “Anything to get out of the palace is time well spent.”

“And have you get into a pissing match with one of the instructors?” she raised an eyebrow. 

“That was one time, and he started it,” Gale crossed his arms over his chest. “Not my fault they’re a bunch of idiots.” 

She smiled. “It was alright for the most part, the new owner has been a much better help. I never met Lorroakan, but he sounds like a dick.” The tiefling turned and walked over to the large cabinet behind the counter and took a small key from around her neck to unlock the door. 

“Right...Lorroakan,” Gale tried not to wince. “I’ve heard much of the same.” 

“Here we are,” she returned and set down a small stack. 

“Iris…this is, five books…I ordered one,” he told her. 

“It is one book,” she replied. “Split into five smaller volumes. Oh,” she went back to the cabinet. “Nearly forgot. Its own translation guide.” She dropped it on top. 

“...You didn’t think to mention this when I was placing the order?” He ran a hand through his hair. 

It wasn’t that he couldn’t manage the books on his own. A simple portal would solve that issue, but it was still four more books, plus a translation guide, more than he’d been expecting. 

“You didn’t ask,” she shrugged. “What do you need these for anyway?” 

“Just something I read made a small reference to this, or these anyway, and I got curious,” he answered. He picked up the translation guide and flipped through it. Picked up one of the books and looked through it.

Forever and Aways

The Willingly Unwilling

[wolfbaenes]

it had only taken jude a few minutes alone to realize that this wasn't the place to read the book. she wanted to; she wanted to read every word and maybe understand why derek had given it to her, of all people. there was curiosity in her eyes when she read through the first few pages, but she knew better. if she got into it now, then it would be hours before she pulled herself away and it would have felt rude to leave the pack like that, after they'd gone through the trouble of inviting her in the first place.

she had stepped out of the room for a moment, planning to ask derek a question, only to realize he was nowhere to be seen. leaving the door open, she retreated back into the room and put the book back into its box, looking around for a place to put it. she wanted to race home and curl up with it, but she could wait. instead, she set it back in the drawer derek had grabbed it from, resolving to come back for it before she went home.

maybe once she dug into it a bit, she would ask allison about it, or laura. she would get their opinions on the strange gift and, more importantly, if she should be giving derek something of equal value.

but she wasn't ready to share it yet. for some reason, she wanted to keep it to herself for a little while.

she'd put the box away and grabbed another book from derek's shelf by the time malia came in, seated on the floor and flipping through the pages. malia's entrance took her by surprise and she looked up, checking her phone to see how much time had passed. "oh, geez, i've been up here a while," she muttered. "it's a book of fairy tales; not the grim dark ones, but the heartfelt ones. professor hale is, apparently, a huge softie." she stood up and wandered back over to the shelf, placing the book back where she got it, before she turned to face malia. "you want to go join the party?"

"i'm alright," derek said, wrapping his arms around allison. "just needed a moment away from the noise." and noisy, it was. but he didn't mind; he would take the noise over tragic silence any day. "how are you?"

dominic's mind was a bit hazy with fatigue, but he was present enough to catch the details in boyd's story; or, at the very least, the way boyd reacted to it all. the free curve of his smile, the way he exhaled through his laughter. boyd was quieter than most of the pack, quieter than dominic. as much as they tried to make sure he was always included and heard, it was nice to have moments like these, where he spoke without hesitation, filling the air with his happy memories.

it was comfortable; easy enough to lull dominic to sleep, but too important for him to even close his eyes.

"you're a good storyteller," he said, honest. dominic hadn't been in beacon hills for high school or for university; he didn't have the memories that most of them did, so it was nice to hear them. and there was something special about hearing them from boyd. "though i will say your high school experience was much... stranger than my own. witches, bonfires, and werewolves, oh my."

daryl wasn't surprised when beth stepped onto the balcony with him, but he was happy when she did. he wasn't much of a partier. his idea of a party was getting together with a few people and drinking moonshine out of mason jars around a campfire. and it wasn't as though the pack wouldn't do that; if he ever voiced that opinion, he had no doubt that someone would find a way to make it happen just so that he would be comfortable.

but it wasn't what he wanted. he wanted them to enjoy their lives like this; he wanted to be just as loud and social as they were, drinking alcoholic concoctions and dancing along to songs that hadn't been on the radio since the early 2000s. they deserved that; they deserved the world.

he smiled at her as she joined him, humming in agreement to her observation. "'s real pretty. i thought it'd be gloomier, all that rainin' it's been doin'. but it's nice out. you havin' fun?"

lydia knitted her fingers through tara's as they ventured back into the very occupied kitchen, fitting in beside stiles and bailey. maggie and suzy grabbed trays of drinks and made their way out of the kitchen, maggie dropping a kiss to her sister's cheek on the way out. "what on earth is that?" lydia asked, appalled and amazed at whatever bailey was about to drink.

heather hummed at holly's question, wrapping her arm around her. "kinda," she said. "i mean, it's been up and down. things weren't as enjoyable while we were looking for you, but... yeah. they're just... like this." lovely, loud, overflowing with joy. wrapped around each other, drinking in each other's happiness and feeding into it.

they were something otherworldly. heather couldn't believe she was lucky enough to witness it.

"are you doing okay?" she asked holly. she knew it took her a bit of time to get used to all of this; she knew it could be a lot, even if it was cool.

"okay, so i have a choice for you," suzy announced, coming to stand in front of sebastian with two glasses in hand. she'd been surprised when the pack returned home with him and xochitl. she'd known they were likely to bring someone new back, but she hadn't expected it to be him⎯⎯to be them.

she didn't even know if they remembered her. she hadn't worked up the courage to ask yet.

she held up the drinks one by one, presenting them to him. "this is a peachtini⎯very mild, not going to do a lot of damage to your liver, but it'll get you buzzed if you drink enough. and this is a virgin margarita, which is just pretty juice. take your pick."

"what's that?" malia asked, walking into the room and sitting down on the floor in front of jude. she liked everyone here, very much so; it had been wonderful to be home, with her family, with new friends who immediately accepted her, for the holidays. it was fun, too, to be around everyone for a party. malia had never been to a party; she could only distantly remember even seeing things about parties in movies or on tv. it was fun, though; it was the way she remembered the house being. loud and chaotic in the best way possible, with the scents of dozens of different dishes wafting from the kitchen, the sounds of people laughing and talking and teasing filling the air.

it was also extremely different from being alone in the forest.

it was different in a nice way, but still, different. and so she found herself exploring the house more, following the trails of familiar scents until she was seated before jude, looking up at her curiously.

allison passed beth, squeezing her arm and smiling, before walking up to derek and giving him a kiss.

"hey," she said, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him. "how are you doing?"

beth smiled back at allison before making her way onto the patio. as she passed boyd and dominic on the couch, she overheard a snippet of the story boyd was telling dominic as he gently ran his fingers through his hair. something about a high school bonfire. either way, it made boyd laugh, and that made beth smile even more as she nudged the balcony door open a bit wider and stepped out into the cool night air.

the night was so bright and clear; the stars were visible all around them, sparkling like distant diamonds. when she exhaled, her breath was ever so slightly visible; everything about the night was beautiful.

"hi there," she said softly to daryl, stepping up alongside him and resting her head against his shoulder. her arm linked through his, and she rest her hand against his forearm. "it's pretty night, isn't it?"

"this is literally an incredible idea," bailey said. stiles huffed.

"bailey, this is not a potion. this is a nightmare. how many different types of alcohol are in that?"

"but look what a pretty color it is!" bailey chirped, holding up her, admittedly pretty, bright blue beverage before beginning to drop skittles into it.

"lydia, tara, help me!" stiles said, laughing.

"where is your sense of adventure?" bailey demanded with a giggle.

holly leaned against heather, giving her a sideways hug. "this is so cool. is this what it's always like here?" she asked, almost shyly, taking in the room around them. everyone seemed to be having so much fun, and they seemed so happy, so comfortable with each other. it was like something out of a dream.

[a34trgv2]

Blue Sky Studios Was A Treasure

When it was announced that Blue Sky Studios would be closing its doors, not gonna lie, I was actually sad. I thought Spies In Disguise was great and was looking forward to their next film. While it is unfortunate that Blue Sky Studios is no longer in business, I think we should take the time to remember how they left their mark on the animation industry. Having rewatched all their films, I'm actually surprised how good, great even, they all are and even more surprised that they aren't talked about enough. So, let's fix that by going through them all in this post.

Starting off with a film I initially thought was good albeit a bit formulaic, Rio holds up much better than I originally gave it credit for. Blu and Jewel have great chemistry with one another and throughout the film I was rooting for them to actually be together. Nigel is also a great villain who just relishes in how dastardly he is and provides a genuine threat to our heroes. I also thought the songs were upbeat and catchy, particularly Hot Wings and Pretty Bird. Like I occasionally hum these songs to myself often and gladly sing along whenever they play onscreen. I also thought it was really funny, particularly Tulio who’s just so eccentric and over the top. What really sells this film is the way Rio de Janeiro is brought to life through Blue Sky’s amazing animation. Like dude! I actually want to take a trip to Rio because to this film alone.

Epic is an aptly titled film because it more than delivers on its concept. It tells a great story about the battle between the Leaf Men and the Boggans for dominance over the forest. It's full of intense action, well rounded and likable characters, sharp humor and really talented voice work. The action alone is worth seeing this film for as this film has some of the best action scenes I've seen in an animated feature film. It's fast paced, there's high stakes involved, and each punch feels powerful. I especially love every scene involving Queen Tara, so much so that I wish she was in the movie more.

Ferdinand is the only other film Blue Sky Studios was nominated for Best Animated Feature at the Oscars and for good reason. This is one of the best film about a gentle giant, in this case a 2000 lbs. bull who would rather smell the flowers than fight. This film is also really funny, has memorable characters and great voice acting, particularly from John Cena as the big bull himself. Cena makes Ferdinand sound like a caring big brother and really sells each line in the film. What truly makes this film worth seeing is the ending; no spoilers, but if you've read the original book or seen the Disney short, you know it's all sorts of satisfying.

If Charles Schultz had lived to see The Peanuts Movie, I'd like to think he would've been proud of the final result. All the characters from the classic comic strip and TV specials stay true to their core personalities and a given new life to the talented kids that played them. Charlie Brown is given a really good arc in this film in which he learns that the best way to make the Little Red Haired Girl like him is just be his honest, caring and unselfish self. Of course Snoopy is a show stealer and every scene he's in get's a good laugh out of me, but I particularly like his Red Barron story which is like a little film within the film.

Speaking of adaptations that probably would've made the original creator proud, I definitely agree with the general consensus that Horton Hears a Who is the best Dr. Seuss adaptation. Not that I think the other adaptations are bad (yes I have soft spots for How The Grinch Stole Christmas and The Cat And The Hat), I just think this film does an exceptionally great job adapting the source material in a funny and engaging way. Horton and Ned are both fully realized characters, with Ned trying to keep his sanity why Horton tries to keep the town of Whoville safe. I also really like how they made the Kangaroo the defacto leader of the jungle and basically make her a shrew who think she's right and Horton's wrong. This film also has some hilarious moments such as Horton holding his breath on the bridge and Vlad getting smacked in the beak.

Like I said before, I thought Spies in Disguise was great. It's premise may seem odd (a spy being turned into a pigeon as he tries to stop a bad guy is pretty out there) but the film itself is actually a great spy film with intense action, funny gags and well rounded characters. I especially love the dynamic between Walter Beckett and Lance Sterling because while they don't agree with each other's methods of stopping the bad guy, they do learn to compromise and work together as a team. I especially love this quote from Walter when he and Lance are on a yacht: "When we fight fire with fire, we all get burned. There's no good guys or bad guys, just people." I know people refer to the characters as the actors that portray them, but I honestly forgot Will Smith and Tom Holland were voicing these two as I was watching the film. You know an actor is doing a good job when you see the character before the actor.

I think Rio 2 is a good sequel to Rio. Yeah it would've been nice if it was told from Jewel's perspective instead of Blu's but the film we got is still good in it's own right. It's funny, the characters are well rounded, the songs are pretty catchy and Nigel returns to chew the scenery once again. This film also bring attention the deforestation of the Amazon and the climax is dedicated to our heroes stopping the deforesters. My personal favorite part of the film is Bruno Mars as Roberto, Jewel's old friend. Roberto feels like a genuine friend who's happy Jewel is happy and safe and rather than push Blu away he genuinely wants to help him fit in to the tribe. I also thought him freaking out before the climax was really funny and just goes to show that Bruno Mars has some good acting chops.

My personal favorite film from Blue Sky Studios is hands down Robots. It tells a really good story about pursuing your dreams even in the face of doubt and the film's main message resonates with me as a content creator: "See a need, fill a need." I also really like the characters, it's got plenty of hilarious moments and the voice acting was really on point. The true standout of the cast though is the late great Robin Williams as Fender. Every joke he made got a genuine laugh out of me and Fender is a fun and eccentric character that's also a good friend to Rodney. This film is worth seeing just for Robin Williams' performance alone.

I purposely saved the Ice Age series for last because this franchise is the studio’s legacy. No, seriously, for the past 20 years Blue Sky Studios has been known as the studio that created Ice Age. All 5 of the Ice Age movies made serious bank at the box office and yet most people just think the first one was the only good one while the sequels were either okay at best or tiresome at worst. Me though? I like all of them. Yeah, I think the first one and even the second one were really good, but I still really liked the other 3. I thought they were all funny, the characters were fun and the animation significantly improves with each passing installment. Of course my favorite part of all the movies was watching Scrat chase after that ever elusive acorn as they’re funny little sides to the main story.

👆Fanart by valentinefrench (https://www.deviantart.com/valentinfrench/art/Blue-Sky-Studios-RIP-870136771)

The big take away from this post is that Blue Sky Studios was an underrated animation studio that produced some great films during its 34 year run. Their films brought us into unique worlds, had well rounded likable characters, had tons of laughs and sent great messages to audiences. In closing, I would like to thank Chris Wedge, Carlos Saldanha, Jimmy Hayward, Steve Martino, Mike Thurmeier, Nick Bruno and Troy Quane as well as the 450+ employees for their contributions to these films. I look forward to all your future endeavors.

[fanficimagery]

Talking to the Dead

Imagine your sister calling in a favor, only to find out said favor is for the vampire sheriff of Louisiana.

Words: 6.3K Author's Note: I am not Bill's biggest fan, nor am I Eric/Sookie's biggest fan either. That said, this takes place AFTER all damn drama with King Bill. Eric still runs Fangtasia alongside Pam and Sookie still works under Sam at Merlotte's. They're friends. That's it.

Eric sits behind his desk, the bottom half of his face covered in blood as Pam files her nails. She had been going through Fangtasia's books when she realized the money wasn't adding up and that some of their product was missing. So when Tara brought forward those responsible in making sure Fangtasia was up to date with their taxes and everything, Eric called in a favor from Sookie to get a read on them. Only Eric lost his temper and killed the two men, leaving thousands of his money stashed somewhere only the dead knew of now.

The office door opens and Sookie stumbles inside, still in her Merlotte's uniform. She takes one look at Eric and sighs. "Did you have to kill them? I just wasted a trip out here, Eric Northman."

"How tragic," he deadpans. "You wasted about five dollars in gas, meanwhile I'm still out of thousands, Miss Stackhouse."

"Don't you take that tone with me, Mister!"

Pam snorts. "Shame your little fae powers don't allow you to speak to the dead," she drawls. "That would really come in handy right about now." Sookie opens her mouth to defend her still untrained powers, only to pause and snap her mouth shut. Immediately that catches both vampires' attention and Pam leans forward, interest piqued. "Have you been holding out on us, Tinkerbell?"

"No." Sookie scoffs, suddenly overcome with wariness. "But I, uh, I might know someone who-"

"No." Eric cuts her off. "No witches."

"She's not a witch," Sookie says. "Y/N is, um, she's my sister."

Eric freezes before he leans forward in his chair. "There's a third Stackhouse? How come we never learned of this?"

Sookie sighs and drops onto the couch. She shrugs. "Y/N's powers manifested a lot earlier than mine did and they.. well it drove her crazy. She was in and out of the hospital, and the death of our parents didn't do her any favors. She started rebelling at seventeen and drank herself into oblivion. Constantly."

Pam hums. "Sounds like my kind of girl."

Sookie frowns at her before looking back at Eric. "She's actually due for a visit tomorrow. I'll bring her by."

"How are you so sure she'll do this for us? If I recall correctly, you did not come peacefully," Eric muses.

Sookie rolls her eyes. "Y/N is a free spirit. If I hadn't told you she was my sister, you wouldn't have known we were twins."

"Twins?" Eric seems to perk up, eyes lighting up, and this time it's Pam's turn to roll her eyes.

Sookie scoffs. "Don't be gross. We'll be by after my shift tomorrow."

Finding an Uber into Bon Temps after the sun had set was almost impossible, but fortunately you found someone who was willing to make the trip. You knew Louisiana had become a vampire hotspot, but you didn't know people had found traveling in the state quite so fearsome.

You don't have much on you, with the exception of a small suitcase holding a few change of clothes, so you opt to be dropped off at Merlotte's rather than your childhood home. And upon exiting the car after making sure your payment went through, you grab your suitcase by the handle and walk towards the entrance. A few whispers attempt to reach out to you, but you shake off the echoes of death and march on.

There's only a handful of locals inside Merlotte's, but the no-good nosy folk still all stop to see who's entering their local establishment. Inside, the whispers get louder, but you reign in your control and shake your head clear. What the hell happened here that there are so many echoes?

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that my favorite Stackhouse?"

You're already grinning as you find the source of the comment, grin widening as Sam's familiar handsome self makes his way towards you. "Come on, Sam. We all know who your favorite Stackhouse really is?"

He laughs as he opens his arms for a hug and you drop your suitcase to step into his embrace. "Jason's bragging again, isn't he?"

You huff a laugh and pinch his side, the two of you not speaking of all the years he spent pining after your sister. "So where is my twin?" You ask as you pull back and roll your eyes when Sam readily picks up your suitcase.

You follow him to the bar as he says, "She's taking a call in the back. Want me to let her know you're here?"

"Nah, but can you put in an order for me? I miss Lafayette's burgers."

"Sure thing, chère. What do you want?"

"Cheeseburger with everything, cut the onions. Extra ketchup. Fries. And whatever beer you have on tap."

Sam chuckles as he's already pouring your beer. "So the usual." You grin as he slides your glass across the bar. "I'll be back."

Taking a seat on the stool there at the bar, you grab your glass and sip at the ice cold beer. It feels so good sliding down your throat that the sip turns into a gulp, and before you know it half the glass is gone. Needing a breath, you set the glass down and inhale deeply. As you exhale, you burp, and then take a moment to stretch in your seat while glancing around. A few people are still staring and murmuring far too low to their companions for you to hear, so instead you raise an eyebrow at them- challenging them to say their opinion out loud. None of them do and you scoff an amused laugh before drinking the rest of your beer.

Sam reappears. "Long flight?" He takes your glass and refills it.

"Flight was fine. It's the people of Bon Temps who annoy the shit out of me." Sam frowns, but you shrug off his concern as he quickly glances around at those in his establishment. You're well aware of what everyone thinks of you and Sookie thanks to Sookie's abilities, and you're grateful you didn't quite get the same ability as her. If you had to hear every living being's thoughts on top of the dead's, you'd have permanently committed yourself long ago.

"Well I talked to your sister in the back. She said she'll be right out."

"That's fine." Accepting your second glass of beer, you smile gratefully at Sam before taking another drink.

"Girl, I knows you ain't tryin' to eat my food without saying hello."

You turn on your stool, one knee crossed over the other as you beam at the cook. "Lafayette!" He approaches with your plated cheeseburger and a basket of fries, setting them in front of you before pulling you into a hug. "I wouldn't have left without saying hello. I just wanted my food first."

"'Course you did," he muses. "How long you here for, little Stackhouse?"

"Um, I'm kind of between jobs at the moment," you sheepishly admit. You quickly grab a fry and pop it into your mouth. "I'll probably stick around until I can find something or Sookie kicks me out."

Lafayette swats you with his dish towel. "You know damn well Sook won't kick you out. That sister of yours misses you lots. She's been talkin' nonstop about your visit."

"If you need a job, chère, I'll be happy to give you one."

You pop another fry into your mouth, grinning over at Sam. "Lord knows you can barely handle one Stackhouse, Sam. No way in hell you can two- three if Jason is around as much as I'm assuming." Sam opens his mouth to retort, but a shriek cuts him off. It's Sookie and she barrels right into your side. "Jesus Sook," you laugh. "Warn a girl."

As you and Sookie quickly catch up (she's all for you staying as long as you need), more patrons enter Merlotte's and Lafayette's forced back into the kitchen. Jason and his best friend Hoyt walk in, so you walk over to join them as Sookie gets back to work also.

Jason is glad Sookie won't be in the house all on her own since he has his own place and Hoyt is just glad to see all the Stackhouses together once again. You finish your cheeseburger and fries there at the table with them, along with three glasses of beer and two shots courtesy of your brother who wanted to properly celebrate your homecoming.

Jason and Hoyt leave, you waving them off when they asked if you wanted a ride home. Sookie's shift is just about over and you remember her asking if you could wait for her because she wanted to take you someplace. So when Sookie comes out from the back to collect you from the bar, you're slightly swaying on your stool as you grin at her.

"Are you drunk?" She incredulously asks. "Y/N, I need you level headed."

"Ooohhh," you coo and reach out to bop her on the nose. "And just what do I need to be level headed for, sis?"

"Can you walk?" She asks instead. You laugh and nod, hopping off the stool and giving yourself a moment to make sure the room isn't tilting. She sighs. "That's good enough for me. Come on. A friend of mine needs a favor." She walks behind the bar to collect your suitcase and a bottle of water from the small refrigerator under the bar. "Bye, Sam! See you later!" She then calls out as she leads you down a hall. You hear Sam's muffled reply from one door in particular and then Sookie's leading you out the back exit and towards her car.

Outside she opens the passenger door to her small yellow Honda Civic that looks newer than the last time you saw it, and tosses your suitcase in the backseat. She pushes you down onto the passenger seat and holds the water bottle out to you. "Drink."

You take the bottle without a word, twist off the cap, and start to guzzle the water as she shuts the door and walks around the car to the driver's side door. You only get half of it down before needing to breathe. "What.. am I.. guzzling water for?" You ask in between breaths.

As Sookie starts up her car, she casts a wary glance your way before looking back to where she's driving. "Shreveport. We're going to Fangtasia. The owner of the bar needs you to listen to some echoes."

"Fangstasia?" Your brow furrows as you try to wrack your brain about why that sounds so familiar. A moment later, however, the answer comes to you and you groan. "First off, I can overlook the vampire bar. What I can't overlook is that of all people to tell our secret to, you chose vampires. Vampires! Do you know we're like crack to them?"

"I'm sorry, okay! I got involved with them a while back, which is a mistake that I can admit now, but Eric actually tried helping me in his own way. Somewhat. We've become friends."

"Sookie." You groan again. Your sister pouts and you decide to keep quiet, sipping on your water and wishing it were something stronger. "So what does this Eric know about me listening to echoes?"

"Nothing really," she says. "I know how you like your privacy, so last night was the first time I mentioned that I even had a sister." You grin, not hurt at all by her not mentioning you to others. "I just said that you could listen in on the dead. They don't know about anything else."

"Good. I like to keep 'em on their toes." Sookie snorts at your all too amused expression. "And besides, I learned a new trick! I can't wait to test it out."

Your sister glances between you and the road, her smile faltering. "Are you- are you sure you're okay to do this? I know how it can get when you're not truly focused."

"We're on the road." You giggle. "No turning around now."

This time it's Sookie's turn to groan. "I knew I should have asked beforehand. Now the night's gonna end with one of us pinned to a wall."

"Oooh. Kinky."

The rest of the drive is painfully quiet, with the exception of some gospel music station Sookie has playing on low. You're humming a completely different song under your breath, right arm hanging out the window and letting the humid air rush over the skin of your arm. Thankfully the drive isn't too long and Sookie is soon pulling into the parking lot with a building partially decorated with neon red lights. The outside of Fangtasia is not what you expected, but seeing the line of both human and vampires in their scantily clad outfits makes you excited to see what's going on inside.

You're practically bouncing in your seat as Sookie parks and she can't help but grin at your apparent excitement. "Get it all out now," she says. "You won't be smilin' the closer you get to the buildin'. Not while you're half drunk."

"Shut up and let's go!"

Sookie fondly rolls her eyes and the two of you simultaneously pull down the sun visors to check yourselves in the small mirrors provided. Happy with your reflections, the two of you climb out of the vehicle. As your sister comes around to your side, you hook your arm through hers and the two of you head for the building.

Instead of heading straight to the back of line, Sookie leads you directly to Fangtasia's bouncer and ignores the grumbled displeasures of those waiting in line to get in. It takes you a few seconds to recognize the dark skinned female checking ID's, but when she turns to greet Sookie and her eyes widen upon seeing you, you grin. "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

"Oh Lord," Tara muses. "Eric's gonna murder the both of y'all."

Sookie huffs and she holds you back as you attempt to poke at Tara's abdomen. "Who put him in a bad mood now?"

Tara shrugs as she swats your hand away. "It's Eric. He's always in a bad mood unless he's balls deep in some fang-banger."

Your sister ew's and you grin, clearly impressed, until Sookie elbows you. Tara just chuckles and gestures inside. "Go on in. You know where to find him. See you later, Y/N."

"Lookin' forward to it." Sookie drags you inside and the second you step foot in the darkened hallway, you sway on your feet as pressure builds up in your head. "Wait, wait, wait." You step aside to lean against the wall, shaking your head clear and trying to build up mental walls. When you catch a glimpse of your sister, you see her smiling sadly at you and are grateful she doesn't gloat about being right. "This is why I don't hang around vampires much," you murmur. "So much death."

"Sorry. I know I should have asked beforehand, but I didn't want to give you a chance to say no. Eric's annoying when he doesn't get what he wants."

"Yeah, yeah." You wave her off, close your eyes, and take a few deep breaths. Once you feel a bite more settled, you push off the wall and meet your sister's gaze. "Okay. I'm ready."

Entering the main part of the club you can't help but look around in wide-eyed wonder. While most would think you were awe, you actually weren't and instead bit back the comment about how ridiculously cliché the establishment is. Everything is in blacks and reds, vampires in leather or electrical tape are dancing on poles, and the humans reek of desperation.

"Huh. No one's on the throne," Sookie muses.

You glance towards a raised platform, eyes lighting up at the sight of two actual thrones. Sookie's grip on your arm, however, stops you from attempting to go up there. "At least buy me a drink before we meet Mr. Scary Vampire." You pout.

"Nope." She starts marching away from the bar and towards a back hallway. "You're drunk enough already. You can have one at home when we're done here."

"Boo. You're no fun."

Sookie stops right outside a black door and impatiently knocks. You grin at her already huffy attitude and then walk in behind her as soon as someone permits entrance. The office is very plain, with the exception of a blood red couch off to the side and the two vampires behind the desk, and you frown as Sookie guides you towards a black leather chair and pushes you down into it.

"So this is the mysterious Stackhouse." The blonde male drawls.

You drag your gaze from your sister to the vampire in question and sit a little straighter in your seat as a lazy smile stretches across your lips. "And you're the mysterious vampire I've only heard about an hour ago." You then look at your sister. "Please tell me you banged this one."

There are simultaneous snorts from behind the desk and Sookie exhales roughly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Eric. Pam, this is my sister Y/N. She might be a little drunk."

"Just a little," you muse, giggling.

"Well at least we know who the fun Stackhouse is."

You perk up again, putting one finger on the tip of your nose and pointing at Pam who's smirking at you with the other hand. "And don't you forget it."

"As amusing as this is," Eric drawls again, "I need a favor. Are you capable of doing what your sister claims you can do?"

"I wouldn't be here if I couldn't." You smirk. The smirk falters however as you feel a chill slide across the back of your neck. You still and slowly glance over your shoulder, whispers you hadn't been listening to earlier getting louder. You wince and turn back around, strengthening your shields. A moment passes before you clear your throat and say, "But I have two conditions before I start."

Eric and Pam had been watching you closely, intrigued the second Sookie held up her hand to stall their questions when they noticed you zone out and stare at the corner of the room. "Money is no issue," Eric then says.

"Pft. I don't want money."

"Y/N!" Sookie reprimands. "You're in between jobs. Take the money."

Without looking at your sister, you wave your hand at your sister to get her to shut up. You know you've done your job when she swats your hand so you continue speaking to Eric. "First condition, no biting! I don't care how delicious I smell. No gnawing on the tiny little gremlin."

Pam's lips stretch into a wide smile whereas Eric's lips faintly twitch. "And the second?"

"I get free drinks from the bar whenever I'm here."

"Deal."

"Yes!"

"You're such an idiot," Sookie mutters.

You look to your sister, bouncing in your seat in excitement. "Joke's on Dracula. I'm gonna be in Bon Temps for the foreseeable future. That's a lot of free drinks for me. Suck it, Pixie."

"Oohh. I like this mouth breather. Can we please keep her?"

You meet Pam's gaze and wink. "As beautiful as you are, sweet stuff, you are so not my type."

Her left eyebrow raises as she's still clearly amused. "Because I'm a vampire?"

"Nah. Because you're female," you say. "I can appreciate a hot as fuck lady when I see one, but I still prefer cock."

"Okay!" Sookie nearly shouts as she stands up. Eric beams at your drunken blunt attitude. "We're here so Y/N can find out where your money is and we're way off topic. Can we please get on with it so I can get her home?"

You snort. "Prude." Sookie slaps the back of your arm and you squeal, slapping her arm back. You glare at her until her lips twitch and then you're back to giggling, looking back toward the vampires. "So let's do it. Do you have anything of the dead guy I'm supposed to be listening for? It'll make it easier to listen in on him."

Pam shrugs. "His blood is still in the dungeon. Will that work?"

"Gross, but yeah. Lead the way."

As soon as you stand, the voices amp up and you sway at the sudden onslaught of voices. You grit your teeth and tune them out, nodding at Eric who had stilled to keep an eye on you. He gestures to follow after Pam and you do, Sookie and Eric following behind you. Pam makes a beeline for the stage of thrones, but before you can follow there's a hand gripping your wrist and leading you towards a door behind the bar.

You're led down into a dimly lit dungeon behind Eric and you can't help the next words that leave your mouth. "It's always such a let down when the dungeon is actually a dungeon and not a sex dungeon."

Eric turns around to stare at you with a leering gaze and Sookie groans. "Been in a lot of dungeons?"

"Not really." You shrug and walk towards the back of the room where there are metal poles sticking up from the concrete floor. Chains hang from each of them and you shiver as your fingers run over them, the metallic rattling immediately tuning you in to the whispers. Subtly shaking your head, you look towards Sookie. "You know the drill."

She nods, pulling small orange styrofoam plugs from her pocket. "If it looks like you're struggling, plug my ears. Or get out."

"Bingo." You grin at your sister before looking at Eric. "If it gets bad, I expect you to vamp speed her little butt outta here."

"And how would I know what bad looks like?"

"Oh you'll know," Sookie mutters.

Grinning one last time at Sookie and Eric, you turn back towards where Eric obviously chains up those who end up on his bad side. So touching the chains again, you let the rattling and whispers overcome your senses.

"..dangerous. Need to leave."

"..bad place. I just want to go home."

"Stupid fuckin' vampers."

The room turns hazy and silhouettes walk to and from around the basement. You stare at them, letting the voices come and go until you find the one you're looking for.

"..so screwed. Never should have done it." Your gaze zeroes in on the silhouette, watching it pace back and forth. "It was just a little money. Pocket change."

"Never gonna find it. Calm down. We're already dead."

You listen a bit more to their whining, hoping for anything useful when a loud dry sob pierces the air. You wince and whirl around to spot the source of noise.

"Did she- can she hear us?"

"If she can then she can tell that goddamn vamper where his stuff is." You whirl back around, gasping at the too close silhouette. "Hello." A chill rushes through you and your too tense muscles seem to relax as a haze takes over your mind.

"Y/N? You good?" Sookie asks. She warily glances around, she and Eric both noticing the atmosphere in the room thickening.

"Hm?" Your eyes blink rapidly as if clearing your vision. "Yeah. All good," you hear yourself saying.

"Well what did you find out?" Eric asks.

You feel your head turning left and right as if taking in your surroundings before you turn around and walk towards the wall where more chains are hanging. Eric growls at being ignored and Sookie quietly assures him that this is normal. Reaching for a chain, you feel your hand gliding along one chain and picking it up, caressing a metal stake at the end of it.

"Y/N," Sookie cautiously calls out. "What are you doing?"

Getting a good grasp on the stake in one hand, you turn around and smile at Eric- a chilling smile that immediately sets Sookie on edge and lets even Eric know that something is off. "Fuck your money. You're never gonna get it, you dead piece of shit."

"Y/N, don't!" Sookie screams as your arm suddenly thrusts the stake towards the side of your neck, only to stop mere centimeters from the intended target.

Sookie gasps and Eric raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Are her eyes supposed to completely white over?"

"Well she did mention learning a new trick." Sookie nervously shifts beside Eric and they watch you slowly come back to yourself, expression hardening.

Eyes completely white, you stare straight ahead as you lower your hand without any resistance from the spirits. "You dead fucks try that shit again and I will obliterate your fuckin' souls, and mark every soul in your goddamn family. Do I make myself clear?" You seethe. The dungeon gets chilly before the tension seems to suddenly dwindle. The whispers amp up before completely dying out and you stand a little taller. "Good. Now where is the money?"

Eric and Sookie patiently watch Y/N as she lazily glances back and forth before the white recedes from her eyes. Her shoulders sag and she meets Eric's gaze. "That Rafael guy had a building he was renovating over on.. over on.." she trails off, brow furrowing as she tries to collect her thoughts.

"I know of it," Eric says.

She sighs. "Well the money's in the wall on the second floor. Happy demolishing."

Then like a puppet with its strings cut, Y/N collapses right before their very eyes.

          - - - - - - - - - -

A pounding at your temples is what wakes you and you groan as your eyes flutter open. You're apparently still at Fangtasia, back in Eric's plain office and laying on the most uncomfortable couch you've ever laid on.

"You're awake. Good."

You begrudgingly sit up, wincing as the throbbing persists. Glancing around, you frown as you notice you and Eric are the only two in the room. "Where's my sister?"

"Miss Stackhouse couldn't bother a mere hour in my presence so she went out front to pester Tara."

"You two exes or something?"

Not even close. "No. I admit I pursued her once, but it was only to satiate my curiosity about why she smelled so divine." Bill fuckin' Compton was also a cock block of epic proportions.

You snort. "Cock block. Who is Bill and why did he cock block you from Sookie?" Eric stills and he goes quiet. You frown at him and then between one blink and the next, Eric is kneeling in front of you.

Can you hear me?

"Um, yes?" You say. A moment passes and then you realize your slip-up. You groan. "Okay, so yeah. I can't read the minds of humans, but apparently I can read the minds of vampires. It only happens when I'm at my most vulnerable and being slightly possessed makes me vulnerable."

Eric slowly smirks. "Well aren't you my new favorite Stackhouse."

You fall back against the back of the couch, groaning. "Whatever. I don't have the energy to argue with you. Just please don't tell Sookie. She gets all huffy when I can do something she can't."

Another blink and Eric is sitting beside you on the couch. "Is there a reason why you can read vampires and she can read everyone else but vampires?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." You shrug. "I eventually came to the conclusion that we're just a part of different courts. She's Light Fae and I'm Dark. She flourishes under the sun and I under the moon. I don't really know."

"Have you tried getting answers from other Fae?"

"Yeah, no. I met a member of the Fae court and that's a hard pass. Those fairy fucks can keep their imposter foods. I like this realm just fine, thank you very much."

Eric's lips twitch. "If the vampires find out about your powers, they're going to fight to put their claim on you."

"Is that your not so subtle way in trying to convince me that I should ask you for protection?"

"I'm the sheriff of this area, sweetheart. You won't be able to find anyone better suited for the job."

You huff a quiet laugh. "Keep your fangs to yourself, sweetheart. I can take care of myself."

We'll see about that.

Settling in at what was always known as Gran's house, you almost take Sam up on his offer to become a waitress or bartender at Merlotte's. But then a day after doing Eric a favor, a check arrives for you- a check worth thousands of dollars- along with an offer from Eric to work every other day at Fangtasia to read the vampires coming and going from his area.

You didn't get back to him right away, instead choosing to just keep to yourself for a bit and re-familiarize yourself with the town. And then just when you think you have a lid on things, a constant buzzing makes a home just at the back of your skull.

For days Eric tries reaching you through texts and calls, but you just don't have the patience to deal with him. The buzzing is non-stop, the echoes of the dead sound as if they're underwater, and you can't hold a conversation longer than a minute. Sookie seems to understand that you can't be around people, so she leaves you be for the most part.

Your sister is currently at work so you have the house all to yourself. You haven't been able to clear your head and the buzzing is only getting louder and louder. You're nearing your breaking point, so when there's a knock at the front door you try to ignore it.

The knocking persists so you reluctantly roll out of bed, frowning as you march downstairs and towards the front door. Through the screen door you can see Eric standing there. You scowl at him, he grins, and when you push open the door he's immediately leaning against the door jamb. "You've been ignoring me."

You sigh and cross your arms over your chest. "I haven't been feeling well. Something's.. off."

That causes his faint grin to drop. "Is it something serious?"

"I'm not sure. I just- it feels like something bad is on the way."

"Well in that case.." Eric straightens up and stares down at you. "You're going to invite me in so I can protect you-" you scoff, "-or have primal passionate sex with you. You pick."

Though your mind is on overdrive, you can't help but faintly grin at the tall vampire. "I'll take a raincheck on the sex, but if you still want to come in, then come in."

Eric smirks as he crosses the threshold of the house and you shake your head at him before turning around and leading him to the living room. You take a seat in the corner of the couch, curling up with a pillow in your lap, and Eric sits on the middle seat to be as close to you as possible. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Few days now," you tell him. "There's this.. buzz. It's constant and it just keeps getting louder and louder."

"And the voices?"

"Muffled. No matter how much I concentrate, I can't hear them clearly. It's like they're trying to tell me something, but I can't tune in to the right station. It's annoying." Eric hums in thought and you attempt to change the subject. "So what brings you down here to Bon Temps? Surely my first impression wasn't that memorable."

He smirks as his arm rests along the top of the backrest of the couch, his fingers tugging on a few pieces of your hair. "It's rare for someone to amuse me these days. And you weren't what I was expecting Sookie's twin to be."

"Between the two of us, Sookie got all the perkiness. I, uh, I got stuck with all the doom and gloom." Eric quirks an eyebrow at you and you chuckle, wincing a moment later as an lingering echo screeches in your ear. Your attention is immediately drawn towards the kitchen where you see a silhouette walk by and the buzzing amps up.

Without uttering a word, you get up and follow it.

Eric watches as Y/N laughs one moment and then in the next second her expression is completely blank and attention elsewhere. Normally he'd be offended, but after learning what he could from Sookie he knows to never bring Y/N out of a trance. So in order to protect this little fae that just continues to become more and more interesting, Eric gets up and follows Y/N through the kitchen and out the back door.

He keeps several feet between himself and Y/N, his curiosity piqued as he notices her stop in the middle of the field behind her home. She glances back and forth as if searching for something, slowly turning in a circle. She winces and stumbles back, eyes wide and heart pumping furiously. Whatever's going on, Eric's instincts suddenly kick in and he doesn't like it. He doesn't like the look of fear on Y/N's face.

One sudden stumble sends Y/N to her knees, hands clamping around her ears.

"No, no, no," you mumble. The buzzing is extremely loud now, voices are screaming but you're still unable to make out what they're saying. Rocking back and forth, you glance around and your heart sinks as you watch Eric standing there across from you. "Go. Get away. I can't-"

"What's wrong? I can help you."

You shake your head. "You can't. You need to go. Get away from me. Please."

Eric watches you and you whimper when you see his resolve strengthen. He's not going anywhere. Clenching your eyes shut against the onslaught of noise, you slam your hands down on the ground in front of you and your fingers dig into the earth. Your breaths come faster and faster, and when you can't take it anymore your eyes fly open as you open your mouth and scream.

Your scream drowns out the buzz, the voices become clearer and it's only there alongside your scream do you understand them. You don't know how long you scream for, but when you stop your throat feels raw.

"What was that?" Eric asks.

"Sookie."

He's immediately kneeling before you, fingers under your chin to tilt your face upward. "What did you say?"

"My sister. She's not- she's not safe."

"She's at work under the ever watchful eye of the shifter."

"She is. Until she walks out back to take out the trash," you say. "Please," you beg. "Just.. just go check on her."

Eric continues to hold your gaze for a moment longer before he gives you a terse nod and then stands tall. Your eyes follow him as she lifts off into the air and it's like a weight is lifted off your chest. You sob in relief, curling in on yourself with your face in your hands.

"..inside.. safer.."

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your cries immediately cease. Sniffling, you sit back up and glance around the field you're in. Hearing the chirping insects and the ruffling of tree limbs puts you at unease, so you climb to your feet and hurriedly make your way back towards the house. You don't breathe until you're inside, behind closed doors, but even then you're still a little tense and wondering if your sister is okay.

The minutes tick on by as you pace back and forth in the kitchen, and you yelp when you turn around and Eric is standing right there. You raise a fist in order to punch him, but stop halfway there and instead poke his chest as you push him back a step. "Don't do that."

He smirks. "Sookie is fine. A couple of human junkies needed some money for their next fix. The sheriff is on the way to take care of the issue."

"Thank you." You sigh. As you move aside to take a seat at the table, you glance back at Eric and see a blood trail falling from his ear. Your eyes widen and you rush towards him, uncaring about boundaries when one hand lands on his chest and the other grasping his chin to turn his face sideways. "Your ear! I told you to leave before I screamed. Why didn't you listen?" You let go of his chin and then shove him a step back as you go back to pacing.

Eric chuckles. "You've been keeping secrets. You're not just Fae, are you?"

You shrug. "I'm not really sure what I am. I only found out I was part Fae because you guys told Sookie she was. The mind reading is from Fae abilities, but the screaming-"

"The wailing is a whole different breed."

You stop pacing and face him once more. "There's only one creature that wails," you say, "but I gave up on digging into our family history a long time ago."

"You truly are a rare breed, Miss Stackhouse. Half fae, half banshee. The vampires are going to be in a tizzy over you."

You groan. "A problem is inevitable until I agree to a claim, isn't it?"

"Aren't you a smart cookie."

You scowl at Eric then, holding his gaze until you sigh. "If I say yes to a claim, can I have your word that you won't take advantage?" He smiles then and though this vampire is ridiculously good looking, you rather not be someone's pet. But alas, you know he's right. "If the offer for a job at Fangtasia is still open, I'll take it. I don't plan to leave Bon Temps anytime soon and I'm going to need the cash."

"Sweetheart, if you agree to be mine I'll give you all the cash you could want."

Your nose wrinkles. "I'm so gonna regret this." There's a faint click! as Eric's fangs appear, his eyes darkening as he readily bites into his wrist. "Don't tell my sister."

Drink up, little one. We're going to have some fun.

[may-b-a-u-shewritestoo]

The feeling is mutual | | Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader | |

A little fluffy 2 part series that I wanted to drop real quick to get back into the swing of things, I hope you like it! It feels good to be back but I’m terrified. I feel like a little deer in headlights! Feedback is most welcomed ALWAYS. ✨

PART 2

Summary; You’re both profilers, analysing behaviour and making connections. So why is it so hard to read each other?

Includes; mentions of sex, mentions of being on period, mention of serial killer unsub (if you know what movie i’m referencing then I love you), fluff! ✨

Word count; 1.2k ✨ (second part will be longer! this is just a little part 1 to see what y’all think)

“I literally want nothing more right now Spencer but I can’t.”

Stood in the break room at work, you mixed the sugar into your coffee and sighed at the very eager colleague beside you.

For a few months now, you’d been having a physical relationship with Spencer. No deeper or hidden feelings had been discussed, you guys were friends who had needs, and those needs could be met by each other. Nothing but trust, friendship and safety with a side order of good sex.

However, Spencer was usually good at keeping things subtle; he’d at least wait until you were both off and out of work to pursue things further. But not today. He’d clearly woken up with a motive. Which was apparently to be inside you by the end of your shift.

Unfortunately for him it was that oh-so-wonderful time of the month and as much as you debated it in your head the second you saw the dark desperation in his eyes, you were not in the mood for all the effort of cleaning up after. Especially not at work.

“You called ME last night, Y/N. It took all of my self control to NOT to get in my car and take you until sunrise.” Spencer grew closer to you, his attitude not remotely intimidating because of the whiny tone in his voice. He was right, you’d been particularly needy the night before; calling him up and breathily whispering down the phone in an attempt to get him to come over. But you both had an early start so you eventually changed your mind.

You just giggled and sipped your drink, misjudging how hot it would be.

“Ah you - stupid fu-‘ Immediately grabbing a bottle of water from a mini fridge below the counter, you took a gulp to soothe your throat.

“I’m just saying, what’s suddenly changed in 16 hours and 42 minutes that’s so drastic?” Spencer looked down at you, ignoring the entire hot drink charade, but having a genuine concern on his face for something else.

Rolling your eyes and standing up to speak to him properly, you took a hold of your coffee cup once again and attempted your most serious face.

“First off, I’m allowed to change my mind. Secondly, I got my period this morning and - no, before you even attempt to convince me ‘oh it’s fine’ I’m not in the mood. Now get your blood rushing back to the right head because I do believe we’ve got a case.”

***************

The unsub was suspected to be a woman in her mid to late 30’s, using a technique similar to that of Ted Bundy and Aileen Wuornos. So far the team had deduced she would lure the victims with seduction at local bars in the area, pretend to be extremely drunk in order to attract creeps and when they took her home she would kill them.

The plan would be for Derek to go undercover at a bar that all the victims had attended and hopefully find the unsub. But first they all needed rest. They’d been working from 8am, after landing at 7am, and now it was 11pm.

Hotch had agreed everybody needed to recuperate and get together around midday the next day, as he knew the unsub would only be out and preying from late evening.

The hotel you guys were staying at was actually pretty luxurious considering the urgency and location. Hoping to share a room with Tara or Emily so you knew you would get some sleep, you grabbed your bags and headed up to see your roommate.

Keying the card and gaining entry with a jolly beep, you noticed it was still dark. Had you been lucky and scored your own room? Flicking the lights on, you let out a frustrated groan when you saw him sitting against the headboard.

A smug grin stretched across his face before it dropped back into that familiar pursed concern look.

“I didn’t do this to annoy you Y/N, I just wanted to spend more time with you. I can switch with JJ.” Spencer began to shuffle off the bed and you just tutted and put your bag down.

“No, stay. I’m not mad. At least not annoyed mad. I’m frustrated. But not with you. I’m just-“

“Y/N.”

Tiredly dragging your palms down your face, you opened your eyes to finally make eye contact with the poor man who was victim to your hormones.

“I’m sorry. I’m just miserable.” you walked around to the side of the bed where Spencer sat on the edge. His eyes followed you, watching your face in an attempt to profile whatever you were thinking. His hands came up to rest at your sides, thumbs stroking lightly across your hips.

“Do you want me to leave so you can get some rest? You’re tired, I can tell.”

“Don’t profile me Spencer.” you chucked lightly, your own hands coming to rest over his. He smiled softly up at you, waiting for your answer.

“Stay please.” Matching his gentle smile, you looked over at your bag before looking back at him. “I need to shower and then I’ll be right in okay?”

Spencer nodded and leant to reach just beside you, where his bag sat on a chair. You knew he was getting a book out, so that he would distract himself while waiting up for you; the one thing you admired and got excited about was falling asleep next to him.

******************

“Do you always do that? I’ve never noticed it before?” Spencer asked quietly into your ear.

You were cozily tucked into his neck, one hand resting against his chest and the other squished between your bodies. Legs entwined with one another, you were absentmindedly rubbing your foot up and down along his. It was a comfort for you, you mostly did it to yourself when you were sleepy.

“Mhmm.”

“It’s cute. Are you anxious? Or stressed? It’s actually a very common limbic response to anxiety, it releases endorphins so you know, you’re essentially giving yourself a massage.” Spencer rambled onto the top of your head, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine.

“ ‘M not stressed. Not anymore.” you hummed into his neck, snuggling in closer than you thought possible. You could feel his pulse quickening slightly against your cheek, hear him swallowing with nervousness as you readjusted yourself; throwing a leg over his hip and latching onto him like a little koala. “Calm down Spence, I’m just getting comfy.”

“Sleep well Y/N.” He spoke so softly it almost lulled you into sleep. His breathing settled as yours did, the arm he had wrapped around your shoulder holding you tight. His other hand drawing lazy lines up and down your spine as he too adapted a comforting stimulation that was going to send him off too.

Spencer couldn’t help but think about how perfectly you slotted against his body, how much you felt like home. The sharp but sweet scent of your shampoo overloaded his senses and bypassed the oestrogen-filled attitude, the drop in energy and the rise in other types of tension. He would do anything you asked him to. But he was sure you didn’t know that. He was even surer that he wouldn’t tell you. Instead, he would appreciate the seconds, minutes and hours you spent together and let his mind drift off onto what the next day would bring him.

[leossmoonn]

No Weakness [Spencer Reid]

masterlist 

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

type - fluff, lil angst 

request / note -  “where the reader is new to BAU and they see dead body first time, and it kinda bothers them. and spencer noticed it, even when the reader tries they best no show it (bc they’re scared it makes the look like they’re weak) so when they’re just two of them spencer tries to make them feel better and tells them its okay and it does not make them weak.” this was so fun to write, ahhh! thank you @avrilstaro for requesting <3 *not edited lol oops*

summary - you’re embarrassed after freaking out from seeing a dead body, but spencer assures you that it’s okay

warnings / includes - descriptions of mutilated body, small description of case (child kidnapper case for this fic), crying, anxiety, nausea, little fighting, food mention. you and spencer are dating in this  

———— 

*gif isn’t mine*

“I can’t believe I didn’t get to sleep in,” you mumbled, throwing your purse down on your desk rather roughly. 

“Not like you would’ve anyways. Ariel was meowing for you five minutes before we got called in,” Spencer stated. 

“So? I would’ve fallen back asleep after,” you shrugged. “You would’ve stayed up all morning playing with her, babe,” Spencer chuckled. 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t know that.” 

“I do! You’ve done it every morning since we got her,” Spencer argued. 

You scoffed, shaking your head at your boyfriend. You trudged over to the coffee machine, getting out a mug the size of a bowl and filling it to the brim. It was already your third cup of the day, and while it was probably unhealthy drinking that much coffee, you needed it. It was your first week on the job and you still weren’t used to waking up at five in the morning for a surprise case. This was your second case, though, so you weren’t very surprised that you were still tired. You knew you would get used to it as time went on, but you wished that your body and mind would adapt faster. 

“You’re coming on the field today.” Emily nudged your arm with a file. 

Your eyes widened and you sputtered out coffee, coughing to try and clear your throat. Emily chuckled, patting your back gently to help you. You set your coffee down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand once you got control of your breathing.  

“W-What?” You asked, the words Emily said not processing in your brain. 

“I said you’re coming onto the field today,” she repeated. 

“B-But…” your trailed off, trying to find a reasonable explanation. “I-I wasn't supposed to be on the field for another week. I’m still technically in training.” 

“Well, part of the training is going on the field. You’re an amazing agent in the office, L/n, but you'd be even better on the field. You’re able to sympathise with the unsubs and solve the puzzles faster than most of us can, sometimes faster than your boyfriend. You’ll help us a lot better out there than in here.” 

You chuckled nervously, heat crawling up the back of your neck. “Thanks, Emily, but I’m not ready.” 

Emily rolled her eyes. “That’s what all the new agents say. You need to just get out there, and there’s no better time to do that then early in the game.”

“I guess,” you muttered, lifting your coffee cup and taking a sip. 

“You’ll be fine, Y/n. I have no doubts,” Emily smiled. 

“Thanks.” You have her a small smile. “No problem. And hey, don’t tell Spencer I said you’re better at the job than him,” she winked. 

You laughed and nodded, “I won’t, I promise.” 

She walked away, leaving you to lean against the counter and to drink the rest of your coffee before going to the briefing room. 

“So, I heard that Newbie is finally coming along with us today!” Luke exclaimed. 

“Newbie is your nickname, Newbie,” Penelope narrowed her eyes at Luke. Luke rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Anyways, you excited?”

You sat down in one of the chairs between to Luke and Matt. “Not really, if I”m being honest.” 

“Oh, why? You’ll be great!” Matt smiled. “So everyone says,” you sighed. 

“Hey, I heard you’re coming with us today. Can’t wait to have you on the field.” Spencer smiled as he walked past you. 

“Yeah, I’m excited to outsmart you, too,” you smirked. 

“Oh, Reid, looks like you have some competition!” Luke teased. 

Spencer shook his head and looked at you through his lashes. You gave him a challenging look, leaning on the table. 

“May the best agent win, Reid,” you dared. 

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Better have no weaknesses, L/n.” 

“Oh, I have none,” you smirked. Spencer replied to you with a hum, giving you an excited smile before paying attention to the case.  

Penelope and Emily delivered the case to you six, then leaving you all to pack up your things as you were going on the jet. You got out the small duffle bag of clothes you had in your car for traveling on cases, also grabbing your phone charger and the case files. You walked up onto the jet, placing your bags up over the overhead storage area. You got seated across from Tara and next to Spencer. 

You all talked about your plans to catch the unsub and where you all were assigned to. Tara, you, and Spencer were going to go to the crime scene to scope out the area. Emily and JJ would stay at the police station and work there, while Matt and Luke did witness and suspect interviews. 

You were sitting back in your chair, looking out the window and admiring the sky as the jet flew through the clouds. You still had an hour before you landed. Everyone was either sleeping or listening to music. You had thought about going back to sleep, but it seems as though the three cups of coffee you had finally kicked in.  

You regretted drinking so much coffee because now, your heart was racing and your hands were shaking. You weren’t sure if it was totally because of the caffeine or that you were nervous about being on the field for the first time, but you assumed it was a little bit of both. 

Spencer, who was seated next to you, noticed your jitteriness. He closed his book softly, setting it down on the floor next to his seat, turning to you and taking your hands in his. 

Your head snapped to him quickly, your eyes landing on his. He gave you a soft smile, beginning to rub his thumb over your knuckles. 

“You’ll do great out there, alright?” He assured. 

You sighed, turning away from the window and to him. “What if the lead I find doesn’t work? What if I can’t figure out where the unsub has the kids? O-Or what if I embarrass myself in front of the police chief?”

Spencer chuckled softly at your concerns, making you frown. 

“Don’t laugh! Hey, I bet you had all these concerns when you first joined.” 

“I did,” he admitted. “But, I learned that I worked with a team. It’s not just me doing the work, just like it’s not just you. You have seven people working with you on this. Try and relax, baby, alright? You do amazing work at the office. This won’t be any different.” 

You scoffed, “Please. It’s like, a million times different.” 

“Just try and relax,” he instructed, putting your hand up to his lips. 

You smiled widely, your heart fluttering as he kissed your hand. 

“Plus, even if it was just you working the case, I have no doubt you would figure it out quickly.” 

“Thanks, babe,” you smiled and leaned your head against the headrest. 

“Of course. I love you,” he said, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Oh, gross. You guys know I just became newly single,” Tara scoffed. 

You laughed and turned to her. “That was like, nine months ago.” 

Tara raised her brows, looking at Matt and Spencer, and back at you. “You weren’t even here back then. How do you know this?” 

“I just know things,” you winked. “Yeah, well I’m betting someone blabbed,” Tara grumbled. 

“We would never,” Matt disagreed. “Mhm,” Tara hummed, going back onto her phone. 

You smiled at you teammates and looked back at Spencer and putting your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes for a few moments, opening your eyes again. You blinked rapidly, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You rolled your head around, your eyes settling onto Spencer who was back to reading his book. You turned your head back to the window, furrowing your brows as you noticed you weren’t up in the sky anymore. 

“Oh, good. You’re up,” Spencer spoke, putting his book away. 

“Are we here already?” You asked, your voice croaky and hoarse. 

“Yep,” he nodded. “We landed about ten minutes ago.” 

“Oh,” you frowned, sitting up and getting out of your seat. You stretched your limbs, yawning once more as you held your hand up above your head. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” You sighed. 

“You’re just so peaceful when you sleep. I couldn’t,” he explained. 

You smiled and went to get your luggage. “Thanks, Spence. But everyone is probably waiting for me now.” 

“No, it’s alright. We can’t go and see the crime scene yet anyways.” 

“How come?” You asked. “Not prepped for us,” Spencer answered. 

“Since when does a crime scene need to be prepped for the FBI?” You snorted. 

“You’d be surprised,” Spencer let out a breathy chuckle. 

You put your duffle bag over your shoulders and handing Spencer his, holding your hand out for Spencer to take. “Join me down the stairs?” 

“Of course,” he grinned, standing up and taking your hand into his and his bag.

You two walked off the jet, going over to the SUV. Spencer drove you two to the hotel where you dropped off your things, immediately going to the police station. 

“ ‘Bout time!” Matt exclaimed, seeing you two walking through the doors. 

You chuckled, “Sorry. Looks like the coffee wore off and I finally crashed.” 

“It’s alright. I think the scene is ready for you guys to look at now,” he said. 

“Great,” you smiled. 

You and Spencer found Tara, going into the SUV once again, driving to the house where the parents were killed and children taken. 

“Wow, I’ve never seen this much yellow tape in my life,” you chuckled. “Yeah. It’s definitely not an eye sore,” Tara chortled, stepping over the caution tape. 

You and Spencer followed her, going up to the police offers that were talking at the front door. 

“Hi, we’re FBI agent with the BAU. I’m Doctor Tara Lewis, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, and Agent Y/n L/n,” Tara introduced you all. 

You smiled and shook the two officer’s hand. “Nice to meet you two.” 

“Likewise. I’m Officer Santiago and this is Officer Reynolds. The parents were killed in two different places. The father in the bedroom, mother in the oldest child’s room.” 

“Lovely. Can’t wait to see,” Tara smiled sarcastically. 

“Oh, I bet. Go ahead and go in, let us know if you find anything, please,” Reynolds said. 

You nodded and stepped into the house, cringing at the heavy smell of bleach. 

“God. It’s like a hospital in here, but twenty times worse!” You held your nose. “I should’ve told Emily I needed to stay back with Penelope.” 

“Oh, this is nothing,” Spencer smirked. “Wait until you see where they all got killed.” 

“Ew, Spence!” You shrieked. “You’re supposed to protect me from all that.” 

He chuckled, “All part of the job, baby.” 

You nodded and sighed, knowing that he was right. As always. You three walked up the stairs, looking at where the father was killed. There was an enormous amount of blood of the bedsheets and some on the corner of the right nightstand, some splatters that were below on the floor. 

“So,” you started. “We’re looking at a team, right? I mean, there’s no way that the unsub could kill the father without the mom noticing.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking’,” Tara nodded. “Well, I could be possible,” Spencer contradicted.

You and Tara looked at each other, confused. 

“Yeah, how?” You asked.

 “Well,” Spencer said, walking over to the bed. “The unsub could’ve choked or suffocated the father in his sleep. I mean, there were ligature marks around his neck, right?” 

“True. And the mom was saying goodnight to her children, so she obviously didn’t see her husband get killed,” Tara added on. 

You furrowed your brows, stepped out of the parents’s bedroom, going to the child’s. 

“Yeah, but, what about the kid? I mean, wouldn’t it have screamed and fought and ran out of the house?” You asked. 

Tara looked to you, eyes widening in surprise. “Yeah, that is a good thought. So… unsub number one is killing the father while unsub number two is kidnapping the mom slash killing the child…” 

“No, that wouldn't work. Maybe it’s a group of three?” Spencer suggested. 

“Maybe,” Tara shrugged. 

You stepped into the child’s bedroom, scrunching your nose as a foul smell wafted under your nose. You walked around, covering your nose with your sleeve. You saw the blood on the bedsheets and nightstand table. 

“Looks like the unsubs all have the same MO’s,” you muttered. 

You opened the closet, seeing nothing but toys, clothes, and shoes. You closed the doors, looking around the walls, your heart sinking as you saw all the finger pantings and pictures of family and friends. You walked up to the wall, losing your balance as you tripped on a a long, soft object. 

You let out a yelp, falling on your shoulder. You groaned in pain, turning on your back while holding your injured side. You looked around for the object you tripped on, frowning as you couldn’t find it. Something pale caught the corner of your eyes. You raised your brow, getting up on your knees and moving closer. 

“What the —” You muttered, your voice getting caught in your throat as you realised it was an arm sticking out under the bed. “Oh, my —” You gasped, peering under the bed, seeing the dead body of one of the children. “Oh, my God!” You shouted, scooting back, your back hitting the wall as you stared at the lifeless body. Tears welled up in your eyes and you put your hand to your mouth, loud and broken sobs escaping your throat. 

The boy couldn’t have been more than a few days old, yet it was still lying there. You could see the lifelessness in his eyes, and still the fear. There was a slit across his throat and cheek, his upper chest red with with green and purple bruises. You felt nauseas and cold, your heart sinking all the way down past your stomach. Your body was shaking and you couldn’t tear your eyes off of the body, no matter how hard you tried. 

You heard the footsteps of your colleagues, their voices calling your name. 

“Y/n, where are — O-Oh, my God.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he saw you crying on the floor. He immediately dropped down to his knees, taking you into his arms. “What happened.” 

You were unable to move, your eyes staring wide at the body. Spencer followed your gaze, his own heart dropping down to his chest. 

“Oh, man. Um,” Spencer said, looking away from the body and to you. His heart broke as he saw you so horrified. He put his hand on your cheek gently, turning your face so you were no longer looking at the body. “Let’s get you to out of here, alright?” 

You nodded slowly, your breaths becoming laboured as you tried to calm yourself down in Spencer’s arms. He got up, taking you with him. He walked you out of the room, coming face-to-face with Tara. 

“What happened?” Tara gasped. 

“Looks like the unsubs left the older boy. Tell the police officers, I need to get Y/n out of here,” Spencer said. 

Tara looked at you, nodding without hesitation. She let you two go, Spencer walking you down the stairs slowly. You exited the house, still taking heavy breathes as the image of the boy haunted your thoughts. Spencer gently got you seated into the car, buckling you in. He went to the driver’s seat, getting in and starting to drive. 

You two sat in the silence for thirty minutes while Spencer drove around. You looked at the window the whole time, your eyes glossy and strained from crying and keeping them open. Whenever you closed your eyes, even to just blink, flashes of the dead boy raced through your mind. Spencer waited patiently for you to speak, understanding how shocked and horrified you were. 

He parked in a Burger King parking lot, sighing and looking at you. He gingerly put his hand on your shoulder, only for you to shrug him away. 

“Y/n,” he sighed. 

“No,” you grumbled. “Take me back.” 

“I think it would be smart if you took the day off. Seeing a dead body, especially a child’s and one you had no idea exited, can really throw you off. The first time I saw a dead body…. Man, I-I was sick to my stomach. I—” 

“Shut up!” You exclaimed, waving your hands in the hair. You looked at him, your chest heaving up and down. Your brows were furrowed and mouth open, your eyes glaring at him.  “Just shut up, Spencer!” 

His mouth went agape, hurt flashing though his eyes. He didn’t let your outburst  dampen his spirits, though. He knew you were embarrassed and still horrified, and that you didn’t like to feel belittled. So he gave you a small, comforting smile, taking your hands into his. You didn’t move away this time, but you avoided any and all eye contact. 

“I know how you feel, babe,” he sympathised. “Yeah, I bet,” you muttered, your voice hoarse and dry. 

He frowned and unbuckled, leaning closer to you. He put his hand on your chin, turning your head with strength and force. You eventually met his eyes, his smile dropping as he saw tears rolling down your cheeks once again, your lips pulled into a pout. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured, cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with his thumb. 

“N-No, it’s not,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “I-I’m so weak. I should’ve been ready. This is what I’ve been tra-trainging for and I suddenly turn into a freaking wuss? I-I… I… It’s so embarrassing!” You shoulders racked with sobs as you hung your head down to cry. 

“Oh, baby,” Spencer sighed, taking your head in both of his hands. He held your head up again, bringing his face close to yours. He put his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “It’s no embarrassing, alright? Your reaction was a perfectly normal reaction to seeing a dead child’s body. Honestly, if you didn’t cry and freak out, I would be worried,” he chuckled. 

You gave him a watery smile, laughing with him. “Y-Yeah, I s-suppose,” you sniffled. “B-But,” you started. “I-It makes me look weak. And I don’t want to look weak, Spence. A-All my life I’ve been told —” 

He smiled widely, leaning back so he could look you in the eyes. “You’re not weak, Y/n. You never could be, even if you tried. You’re just human, and that’s fine. It’s amazing, honestly. You know, I am so proud of you, babe.”

You frowned, “Why?”

“Because today was your first day out on the field, and you did fantastic. It can only get better from here.” 

“Y-You really think so?” You sniffed, wiping your nose with your sleeve. 

“I know so,” he nodded confidently. “And it’s okay to show weakness, Y/n. No weakness is the real weakness.” 

“Such wise words,” you laughed. He laughed with you and he shrugged. “I try.” 

You laid your head back on the headrest, looking a him through tired eyes. “Thanks, Spencer. It really means a lot.” 

He nodded with a smile. “Of course, honey. Now, why don’t you say we get something to eat, then go back to the precinct?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Sounds great.” 

He nodded and buckled himself back in, putting his hand on the gearshift and looking to you. 

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

You smiled shyly, heat scorching your cheeks. “Yeah, I know. You’ve already told me.” 

“Just making sure you know, baby.” 

———— 

Like and Reblog !

taglist form 

@avrilstaro @andreasworlsboring101 @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @calm-and-doctor @kaitieskidmore1 @spenxerslut @spencerreid9 @thefandomchoosesthewizard​ @ronbrokemyheart

[whump-town]

Counting Down The Days

The real kicker here is that I don't even like Christmas and I don't know at all why I thought of this...

Fluff, not really sad

No Pairings

Spencer has never liked Christmas.

As a child, December rolled in and cast over the city an impossible task. His thin wrist grabbed as he tucked pudding into his sweater and his ears tugged at when he bolted for the door, knowing getting caught one more time would mean child protective services would come back. And each time he picked his mother up off the floor, every time he tucked himself in the coat closet to try and hide from her wailing and shouting, he knew they would see through the veil. His mother wouldn’t survive having him taken away. No one else can get her to take her medication. No one else could read her books in their original forms. German and Arabic and Spanish. And what was the point in reading Don Quixote except to do so in the original Spanish?

But not getting caught shoplifting in December, when all of the staff of every store was watching for just that, is impossible. December met icy cold fingers dragging through his stomach and lying to his mother that he had eaten something while he made her ramen. He can go one more day but she can’t take her meds on an empty stomach.

As an adult, these things have changed drastically. Christmas is great. He really can’t complain. He loves dressing up for Dave’s fancy dinner and turning into a bragging point. The feeling of Dave’s heavy arm around his shoulders, showing him off to his friends. Finally being able to understand what it must feel like to have a parent bragging about you to other adults, even if at a certain point they’re just trying to show up to their friends. That doesn’t change the flush in his cheeks or how nice he feels smiling and stuttering around an explanation of his PhDs. Stomach twisted up and cheeks hurting when Dave finally leans in and relieves the guests with a “see? Kids so damn smart I don’t even understand what he got a degree in!”

He misses Morgan and Hotch.

They’ll come around for Christmas, he knows.

Hank is getting so big and he’s carrying on the tradition of all of Spencer’s other nephews and calling him “weed” but there’s nothing like that big baby smile when he comes in through the door. Tottling steps and an armful of baby. It just makes him want his own kids but for now, he’s content with his nephews. Jack calls him a lot. He got the ability to do math from somewhere but certainly not from his parents -- Haley was an English major and Hotch uses a calculator for basic math. So Reid is generally the only person that he knows who can talk math. Christmas will bring Henry and Jack home from college. There’s speak of a boyfriend but Emily knows only minimally about this from what she’s heard from Hotch and what Jack has told Hotch is also minimal at best. Henry is… JJ gets a lot of radio silence from him but Hotch is quick to assure her that is just typical. Jack did the same thing but now he’s a senior in college and Hotch is lucky if he goes three consecutive hours without some sort of text or call.

“Who is my doctor at home?”

“Do you think Uncle Derek can change my oil? Wait, can I go that long without checking it?”

“What year was Aunt Jessica born? Don’t tell her I asked you that.”

“How old are you again? 53? 60?”

Spencer is just excited to have everyone under one roof.

Hotch and Emily grew up under the kind of parties that Dave throws for Christmas. Tokens to be shown off by their parents and ignored under every other circumstance. Both having been shipped off at least once during their childhoods when they no longer fit a certain look. Emily was no longer young enough to attract her mother’s friends, breast a little too formed, and acne that could not be tamed. Hotch with shadows of bruises that would not heal. Dead eyes that no longer raised from the floor.

Dave’s parties bring out the worst in them. Emily is a very bad influence on Hotch and together they have considerable tolerance for alcohol, they can do some damage. But they’re not loud. Spencer loves to watch the two of them, the way they ease into the night. Hotch warm now, his edges softened to pleased little smiles and thoughtful hums. Emily is chatty, leans into touch, and stretches out like a cat bathing in the sun. The night ends with their soft arguing. Spencer could butt in at any time to the subjects that they talk about but he finds himself far more content to sit and watch. Emily’s toes tucked under Hotch’s thigh and his head turned on the sofa, lazily listening to her speak.

They always approach every subject as if it’s the simplest thing. Let it be Marx, spending the hours in front of Dave’s parlor fire speaking in hushed tones about surplus-value and what makes a commodity. About the ins and outs of Cormac Mccarthy, Hotch loves The Sunset Limited and Emily does not. Whitney Houston and how poor Hotch’s Spanish is and if that’s his fault or hers.

Garcia loves the parties even if it does create a little cognitive dissonance for her. Her parents would hate this but she feels pretty in her gown and no one lets her forget it. She keeps track of the kisses placed on her cheeks. Derek smelling of something woodsy as he leans in with a wink, “you’re very beautiful this even, mama.” And Savannah smells warm and inviting and she gives the very best hugs. “Green,” she whispers, “is very much your color.” How Hotch hums along to songs and always gives in to her request for one dance, his smile growing wild as she steps on his toes.

And Spencer loves that she always asks him to match her. So he’ll proudly come in with his matching bowtie or pocket square. Lending her his elbow as they step in, stepping just out of the way that the right people come to greet him and no one else. Morgan is warm and tight, always squeezing just a little too hard. JJ fussing with his hair.

But it’s only September.

He’ll have to pass through Halloween. Jack and Henry are too old these days to run through the bullpen dressed as whatever fictive hero they have grown obsessed with this fall. Coming up to his desk knowing he’s hidden the largest bowl of candy, that he’ll sneak into their pockets whole-sized candy bars to eat as they trick or treat. At best he might get some pre-game pictures from them both, neither having grown out of their love for Halloween. Jack is still very into dressing up but Henry will still throw something together.

There will be Thanksgiving, a holiday choppily shared between them all. Just showing up at Dave’s randomly or Morgan’s depending on who wins that argument this year. He’ll be lucky to see them all under the same roof. If it’s at Dave’s then he’s guaranteed warm and cozy Hotch and Emily. Both bothering Dave in the kitchen, their lost childhoods always burning the brightest around one another, and exasperating Dave. Maybe Garcia will win her favorite game and Dave will teach her to cook whatever he’s decided they’ll have this year. If it’s at Derek’s then at least he’ll get to see Hank. JJ and Savannah will be there, they’re pretty good friends. Garcia will certainly be cooking something and Derek will be manning the grill.

But it’s months out until December.

And all Spencer wants is unabashed affection.

Dave’s arm around his shoulder and his high sung praises.

Emily snagging him up to dance to “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” and kissing his cheek for the trouble.

To see Matt and Luke interact with the team. Dave’s attention turning to point out his other boys, “knuckleheads but they mean well”. How Tara will take up the empty space left on the couch and butt into Hotch and Emily’s argument, turning warm and comforting like the other two. And Spencer can’t wait to see how similar the three of them are-- you just have to see through the layers.

Until it’s nearly two in the morning.

Jack and Henry are missing, Luke thinks he might have seen them on the back porch.

Emily is sleeping, head in Tara’s lap and feet in Hotch’s. The other two blinking slowly into the fire, glasses of wine warm in their hands and dangerously close to falling.

Matt is sitting on the floor, children spread out around him.

There’s the buzz of conversation still coming from the kitchen. Garcia, JJ, Savannah, and Kristy giggling over wine and gossip they’re certainly not supposed to know.

Spencer looks up at the calendar sitting above his desk and crosses off the day.

He always hated December. He never got to appreciate Christmas. They represented everything he didn’t have, all the things he thought he could never have. But as mid-September leaves a crisp edge to the air, he finds himself counting down the days tell what used to be a measure of his insignificance.

Now it’s the only day that seems to matter. The only day he feels like he matters. Surrounded by the warmth of familiarity. By love.

He misses his family.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

The Reward of Suffering

next chapter

Summary: A retelling of the events of season 12 episode 13. 

Gif credit to the wonderful and talented @imagining-in-the-margins​

A/N: After several months of contemplation, I have finally decided to post part one of my first ever fic on Tumblr! This fic will follow the event of Spencer’s prison arc, so needless to say there will be SPOILERS. This first part is super long, but I felt that it needed to be in order to set up the plot. I hope you all enjoy reading! If you would like to be tagged on future updates, let me know!

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem! Reader

Warnings: no smut (yet), mentions of past frug use, cursing, typical CM case talk

Word count: 12.1k

           “Reid is in jail.”

           I felt the color immediately drain from my face and an intense feeling of dread began to wash through my body. I sat up in my chair, back ramrod straight. I briefly looked towards the faces of my teammates, Luke and JJ to my left and Penelope to my right. Their faces were all contorted, displaying varying degrees of shock and confusion. It was hard for any of us to process what we were hearing. The idea of Spencer Reid, the same Spencer who wore a mask to the office on Halloween and put on elaborate magic shows for everyone’s children, doing anything that would warrant being put behind bars was preposterous.

           Surely, this is all just a big misunderstanding.

           “Jail?” Penelope squeaked out. My eyes flitted to her, taking note of the way her eyebrows were drawn together in disbelief. She was thinking the same thing I’m sure we all were; that there was no way Spencer Reid had engaged in any illegal activity. Spencer was a well-educated, highly regarded FBI agent, for Christ sake. He knew the laws of the land better than any of us.

           “In Mexico.”

My attention focused solely on Emily. In the few weeks since I had come to know her, I had begun to look at her not only as a sort of fearless leader, but also as a kind of fiercely loyal friend that I was incredibly lucky to have. Emily somehow managed to find the perfect balance between being accommodating and stern. She was the kind of boss you could have a drink and cut up with after a long day, but she also carried herself in a way that demanded the utmost respect in the workplace. Emily Prentiss’s bravery was unmatched, and I admired her for that.

It shook me to my core when her eyes met mine and I saw the pure, unbridled fear in them. If Emily was scared, then this must be leagues worse than we could have ever imagined.

“What the hell is he doing down there?” JJ asked, crossing her arms and shuffling from one foot to the other.

“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him. The call came in to Cruz from their lead investigator.”

Luke was the next to chime in. “What’s he being held for?”

“Drug possession,” Rossi said, before taking on, “with intent to distribute.”

For the second time that day, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Images of Spencer sitting across from me in a dimly lit coffee shop, tripping over his words as he confided in me, spilling his deepest and darkest secrets in a voice barely above a whisper. His voice had grown stronger as he neared the end of his story and he had dug deep in his satchel, producing a small golden coin. We both had tears in our eyes as we looked at the writing engraved into the coin; unity, service recovery. Spencer Reid was ten years sober, and the pride on his face was as clear as day.

There was no way he would throw all of that away.

“What type of drugs?”

“Cocaine and heroin,” Rossi said, his voice shaky.

Rossi and Spencer had always had a good relationship. Spencer had admired his work long before he met him, having read and reread every book he had ever published. It had delighted Spencer that he and Rossi had managed to develop rapport so quickly. Rossi was the only one talented enough at the game of chess to even think of giving Spencer a run for his money, though many of us had tried. In one of many hushed conversations shared on the jet, he had once told me that he had begun to think of Rossi as somewhat of a father figure; he didn’t quite fill the role in the same way Gideon had, but Spencer was thankful just the same. One look at Rossi’s troubled expression was enough to tell me that the feelings were definitely mutual.

“Oh my God. This can’t be happening.” JJ was positively crestfallen, clutching a hand against her own chest in an attempt to ground herself. Her other hand came up to her face as she absentmindedly pushed her hair away.

“We need Lewis and Walker here, ASAP,” Emily directed her order and Penelope, who was quick to comply.

Everyone sprang into action, but I found myself unable to move, weighed down by the deeply unsettling circumstance. It felt as if I was no longer in my own body, like I was watching everything unfold from an outsider’s perspective. Maybe I am, I thought. Maybe this is all just some horrible nightmare. Any second now, my alarm will go off and this will all be over.

I waited and waited for my alarm to sound, but that never happened. Instead, Emily crouched down in front of me, grasping my arm firmly in her right hand.

“I know how devastated you must be. Trust me, I do,” she sympathized, her deep brown eyes boring into my own. “But Reid’s going to need you now more than ever. You’re his best friend and you know him better than anyone. Did he ever mention to you that he was going to Mexico?”

I shook my head numbly, my motions feeling alien and stilted.

“Never. He told me the same thing he told you; that he was going to Houston for a few days to meet with his mother’s doctor,” I whispered. I feared that if I raised my voice any higher, tears would begin to fall. Maintaining my composure was becoming harder with every passing second, and I wasn’t exactly privy to breaking down in front of my boss. “I guess I don’t know him as well as I thought.”

Emily sighed, letting go of my arm before straightening up.

“Apparently, none of us did. But I know damn well that this has to be a mistake. We’ll get him out of this.”

           The apprehension in her voice told me that even she wasn’t sure we could pull this one off.

--

           “This has got to be Scratch,” Tara stated, her voice wafting through the speakers of Luke’s laptop. Emily, Rossi, Luke and I were currently in the jet, on our way to the jail where Spencer was being held. All of us were huddled close together around the computer, listening on with eager ears. “He was laying low, and now we know why.”

           “Crossing the border as a fugitive is a huge risk,” Luke pointed out.

           “The reward is even greater. He’s been punishing the team, and now his target is Reid.” Emily’s voice was full of frustration and contempt.

           “Peter Lewis dropped off the map after attacking Tara’s family,” Stephen chimed in. Not even his deep baritone voice could do anything to calm my frazzled nerves. “Maybe he’s been hiding in Mexico this whole time.”

           “We also have to consider that it isn’t related to him,” I murmured. Several pairs of eyes locked on me, shocked. I had been uncharacteristically quiet since this whole ordeal began, limiting my responses to one word replies and hums of acknowledgement. On a normal day, I’d be throwing in my two cents any time I saw fit. Today, I was struggling just to keep breathing.

           “Who else would it be?” Rossi asked.

           “Drug cartels. Could’ve threatened Reid and used him as a mule.” Saying his name was painful, because it reminded me that we weren’t just talking about a victim with whom we had no personal ties; we were talking about our colleague and beloved friend.

           “Agreed,” Rossi nodded. “This could simply be a case of bad luck. Reid was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

           “Spencer’s mom is okay.” JJ’s announcement was like music to my ears. I let out an audible sigh of relief. “The home nurse he hired said all is stable.”

           “How long did he tell the nurse he’d be gone?”

           “Three days.”

           “That sounds reasonable. After the Palm Springs case, Reid said he had to get back to Houston to talk to his mom’s doctor,” Emily interjected. I nodded along in agreement. He’d told me the same thing when I talked to him the night before last.

The fatigue in his voice had alerted me to the fact that things hadn’t been going so well with his mother. Her condition had been rapidly deteriorating in the recent months, prompting Spencer to make the tough decision to remove her from the assisted living facility she was at and into his own apartment. His main argument had been that no one could possibly take better care of his mother that him; that he was familiar with her condition and how best to respond when she had an episode. When I had asked him how he was handling it all, he was quick to reassure me that it was not anything he couldn’t handle.

Spencer’s loyalty ran deep; so deep that I knew he would do anything in his power to take care of Diana, but I’d never imagined that it would land him in fucking jail.

“Well, Houston is only a five-hour drive from the border,” Tara mused. “The question is, why did he go down there?”

“And why does he have narcotics?” Rossi was the first to speak on what was at the forefront of everyone’s mind.

“Yeah, exactly. He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t do that. Those drugs were planted on him,” Penelope insisted.

“Absolutely, but there’s something bigger in play. That’s why he crossed the border and kept it a secret. There’s something he didn’t want to share with any of you.”

I cringed at Stephen’s choice of wording. Spencer and I were as close as two people could be, and there was nothing I withheld from him. He knew everything about me, every dark and embarrassing thought that had ever crossed my mind; yet, he accepted me just the same. I had always assumed that it went both ways, that he was just as honest and forthcoming with me as I was with him. It hurt to know that there were things he kept from me, secrets that he felt he couldn’t trust me with.

But most of all, it absolutely gutted me to think that he was dealing with something so horrible that it landed him in jail, and he that he had to do it all alone.

“Okay, so what would make him risk everything?” Emily pondered aloud.

“His mom.” My answer was instantaneous.

A ping sounded from the other end of the video call, and we all leaning in, our interest piqued.

“Cruz just sent me the arresting report,” Penelope announced, clicking away at her computer before continuing. “It says here that Reid was involved in a high-speed chase.”

“What?” I choked out, my voice coming out several pitches higher than usual. “Spencer hardly ever drives.” I could feel my stomach begin to churn, bile threatening to force its way up my esophagus. This isn’t right, I wanted to scream. Our Spencer would never get himself involved in something that would put himself or others at risk.

“None of this sounds like him,” Penelope whispered, her thoughts mimicking my own. “It says he was wearing jeans and a baseball cap and that he was really confused. According to the arresting officer, he was really high on something.”

Unity, service, respect; ten years sober. All down the fucking drain.

I shot up from my seat, bolting down the walkway and into the bathroom. I immediately fell to my knees, barely managing to push my hair out of the way before retching into the toilet bowl. I continued like this for several minutes, only pausing momentarily when I felt large, soothing hands running up and down my back. Soft murmurings of reassurance alerted me to the fact that it was Luke who was sitting with me. I let out a strained ‘thank you’ before another wave of nausea hit me, rendering me speechless. Luke held my hair back, never once leaving my side.

When I had thrown up the entirety of my breakfast and all I could do was dry heave, I slumped back against the wall, relishing in how cool it felt against my flushed skin. A stretch of silence passed before he decided to break it.

“That was an extreme reaction,” Luke pointed out, still sitting in the floor with his legs crisscrossed. I noticed how closely he was watching me, his eyes focused on reading my expressions. He was profiling me, that much was obvious. It was an unspoken rule between us all that we would never profile one another, but any fight I had left in me had long since dissipated.

“He worked so hard to get clean, Luke. I wasn’t around when it happened, but he told me about it. He was so proud of himself,” I whispered. My throat was now raw and my voice came out more than a little bit hoarse.

Luke’s eyebrows came together, confusion clear on his face.

“Get clean? What are you talking about?”

I let out a shuddery breath. It felt wrong to divulge information on Spencer’s personal life; like I was betraying his trust. Given the circumstance, I supposed he wouldn’t mind, but it still felt treacherous and left a bad taste in my mouth. Sorry, Spence.

“Ten years ago, Reid was kidnapped by an unsub with DID. He kept him in a remote cabin for several days, alternating between beating him senseless and shooting him full of so much hydromorphone that he couldn’t remember his own name. At one point, he even,” I trailed off, hot tears spilling out of my eyes and running down my cheeks. Luke took my hand in his in an act of reassurance, his way of telling me not to rush. Luke hadn’t been with us for long, and our interactions thus far hadn’t gone much farther than conversations about work. Seeing the way he was offering himself up to me as a confidant and shoulder to cry on made me feel guilty for ever having written him off.

Thank God for Luke Alvez.

After a long pause, I managed to continue. “Spencer ended up having a seizure and he died for several minutes. The unsub’s more benevolent personality, Tobias, was able to resuscitate him. Eventually Spencer was able to take him down, but the trauma mixed with the exposure to such a highly addictive drug led to him developing a dependence on it.”

Luke swore and ran a hand through his hair.

“I never would’ve guessed it. The kid carries himself so well.”

A small, fond smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

“He’s amazing, really. He detoxed all by himself and started going to NA meetings. This past October marked ten years. We celebrated by going to one of those really fancy museums he likes and he insisted on taking the guided tour so that he could see how many errors the guide would make,” I let out a light laugh at the memory. “Every time they’d get something wrong, he’d lean down whisper the correct information so that only I could hear it. I don’t think I’d ever seen him that happy,” I reminisced, allowing myself to forget about the current situation for the tiniest of moments. I wondered if I’d ever get to experience a day like that with Spencer ever again.

“You two are close, I take it?”

I nodded. Luke had fit in with the group so seamlessly that I had forgotten that he had only been with us for a short time. He didn’t really know the dynamics of everything yet.

“He’s my best friend.”

Luke hummed, and I could feel his eyes looking at me inquisitively.

“And that boyfriend of yours, he doesn’t mind?” Okay, maybe Luke was a little bit more perceptive than he let on.

Gavin and I had begun dating at the end of my first year with the BAU. He and I had meet in the most cliché of ways; bumping into each other in the cereal aisle at the grocery store. Gavin was more than a little bit handsome, but what had reeled me in had been the way he taken one look at the box of cereal in my cart and immediately scrunched his nose up in disgust.

“Plain Cheerios? Are you some sort of masochist, or something?” he had asked, a playful lilt to his voice. Normally, if a strange man had approached me in public, I would’ve been quick to express my disinterest. If my job had taught me anything, it was that a woman being approached by a strange man was a recipe for trouble. But something about him seemed wholly unthreatening, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his forwardness, raising an eyebrow at him.

“As if your choice is any better. Lucky Charms? What are you, six?”

“Don’t even go there. Lucky Charms are magically delicious, thank you very much,” he sniffed, feigning superiority. “And if we’re touching on the subject of age, the only person I know that eats plain Cheerios is my eighty-six-year-old grandmother. You look a bit young to be worrying about heart health, and I refuse to believe that you actually enjoy the taste, so what gives?”

“First of all, I find it concerning that you are so familiar with cereal slogans,” I breezed, leaning against my shopping cart. “Second, I am curious; do you make it a habit to harass people about their cereal preferences?”

“Only if they’re cute.”

And that had been that. Several dates later he had asked me to be his girlfriend over a dinner he had attempted to make himself. I said yes and he kissed me, nearly knocking over his plate of burnt chicken parmesan in the process.

“We, uh, have an understanding. He knows that Spencer and I are just good friends.”

Gavin and I did have an understanding, but it wasn’t a very solid one. In fact, I was sure that he damn near despised Spencer’s very existence. He had done a good job at hiding it for a while, but after coming home one night from an impromptu movie night with Spencer, he had revealed to me that he had a jealous streak a mile long. I reassured him that there was absolutely nothing that he needed to worry about, but I could tell he didn’t believe a word of it. Gavin had out flat demanded that I cut all ties with Spencer, and I had laughed in his face.

“I’m not the kind of girl that likes to be told what to do. Either you learn to live with him being a part of my life, or you can find someone else to boss around, because I can tell you right now, that won’t fly with me.”

My threat had proven to be effective, and he had apologized, and that had been the end of that. He still wasn’t fond of the idea that Spencer and I were such close friends, but he hadn’t tried to proposition me with any more ridiculous ultimatums.

“That’s good to hear,” Luke hummed, squeezing my hand before rising to his feet. I could tell that he didn’t necessarily buy into what I was saying, but I was thankful that he didn’t press it any further. “What do you say we go back out there. We’ve got to be getting close by now.”

I nodded and he helped me to my feet. I bent down to the faucet, swishing some water in my mouth before spitting it out.

When Luke and I returned to our seats, I was immediately aware of the way Rossi and Emily were eyeing me; like I was a delicate thing that needed to be handled with kid gloves.

I absolutely hated it.

“Sorry about that. It won’t happen again,” I said, before turning my attention back to the video call and saying, “so, what did we miss?”

--

The police station was surprisingly small. The hallways were narrow and the light bulbs above me gave off an almost green tint, casting an eerie glow on the place. The sounds of disgruntled detainees calling out drifted through the hallways, sounding akin to the moaning of a ghost. My eyes darted around constantly as we walked, the uneasy feeling in my stomach growing with every step we took towards the heart of the precinct.

“Thank you for calling us.” Emily’s words were directed at the police officer, Chief Castenada, who was leading us down the hall. He was a short man with graying hair and a seemingly permanent frown etched into his face. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that he wasn’t happy that four federal agents were in his jail.

“A U.S. fed in our custody isn’t something we see every day,” the man said, his tone entirely unfriendly. I grimaced.

“Have you gotten any of his tox screen panels back yet?” I prodded, quickening the pace of my strides until I was walking alongside him. He looked down at me like I was a pesky gnat that he wanted to bat away.

“No.”

Color me unsurprised.

“You’ll need to expedite that. We have cause to believe that Doctor Reid was drugged.”

“He was definitely high and driving like a bat out of Hell. Not to mention he had $20,000 worth of heroin in his possession,” he sneered, ceasing to walk and staring down at me with distaste. “Both of which put my officers at risk. You’re in our jurisdiction. Don’t forget that. The rules are different here.”

I opened my mouth, ready to fire back with some smart-assery of my own, but a hand at my elbow stopped me. I turned and saw that it was Luke, who nodded his head to the left of us. I looked in the direction he was referring to, and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces.

Just up ahead was a holding cell with several poorly constructed benches in the center of it. On the very first row of seats sat Spencer, who had seemingly retreated in to himself. He was hunched over, his arms wrapped pitifully around himself, much like you’d imagine a child might do to keep warm. Spencer’s clothes were tattered and dirty and a bandage adorned his right hand. His usually beautiful chestnut curls were flying around his head in a mess of tangles and dirt. Despite the fact that Spencer towered over most of us, I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly small he looked.

Even as awful as he looked in his current state, a direct contradiction of the way he usually presented himself, I’d never been happier to lay my eyes on someone in my life.

My feet carried me forward before my brain had time to catch up. I closed the distance between me and the cell, pausing and taking a good, long look at him before allowing myself to speak. He hadn’t noticed me standing there yet. His gaze was instead trained on something at the other end of the room, his eyes red rimmed and glassy and his face completely slack.

“Spence?” I called out, the nickname falling from my lips like a prayer. In a way I suppose it was; a prayer that he was alright, that the horrible things Penelope had told us about were nothing but a horrible lie. At first, I was worried that he hadn’t heard me or that he was too out of his mind to even register the sound of my voice. Just when I opened my mouth to speak again, he turned his head in way that I would have described as comically slow if the situation hadn’t been so serious. The spacey look in his eyes told me that my prayers wouldn’t be answered.

Spencer’s eyes locked with mine, but his face remained completely blank, devoid of all expression. I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, until it hit me like a ton of bricks; he had no clue who I was.

I wanted to be mad. I wanted to scream at him, to ask him how could he forget me, of all people. My anger was irrational and unfair, but I couldn’t help it. While I understood that it was no fault of his own, that the drugs coursing through his veins were to blame, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

I swallowed down the emotions that threatened to spill out, pushing them down into the depths of my being. I couldn’t let my emotional attachment hinder my judgment. I needed to be as vigilant as ever, no, more vigilant. The fate of my favorite person in the whole world depended on it.

“It’s me, Y/N,” I explained, keeping my voice as steady as I could manage. “It’s good to see you, Spencer. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

He watched me for a moment before standing and making his way to where I was leaning against the bars.

“Y/N,” Spencer murmured when he reached me, as if testing my name out to see how it rolled off of his tongue. His stare was still vacant, but having him in front of me after worrying about his wellbeing for the last five hours was more than enough for now. I’d take him however I could have him. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, we came,” I murmured, my eyes raking over every inch of his body for any signs of distress. Other than the bandage on his hand, he seemed to be in one piece.

Rossi was quick to join me, coming to a stop at my left.

“We’re going to get you out of here, kid,” he reassured, his tone more serious than I’d ever heard it.

           “We need to work out some details with the locals, okay?” Emily said, waiting for a response but getting none.

           “Who was your contact down here?” Luke asked.

           Spencer was quicker to respond this time.

           “Rosa,” he mumbled as he grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled it up. On his inner arm, the name Rosa Medina was written in what was undoubtably his own handwriting. Spencer was notorious around the office for having the worst handwriting. I like to blame it on the fact that he was a doctor, which always elicited a laugh from him. “I think she’s a doctor.”

           Luke pulled his phone out from his pocket, snapping a picture of the name.

           “Where did you meet her?”

           Spencer shook his head and a frown pulled down at the corner of his lips.

           “I… I don’t remember.”

           “If you saw her, would you remember her?”

           Spencer nodded in affirmation.

           “You’re missing time, aren’t you?” I asked, causing him to look at me once more. His brows furrowed together and he was nodding again, slightly surer of himself this time.

           “It’s peeking out. It’s coming in flashes.”

           “And you’ve been drugged?”

           I didn’t know it was possible for his face to fall any more, but the look of shame that manifested itself when he registered my words was absolutely heartbreaking.

           “Yeah, but I didn’t take it myself,” he insisted, a spark of life burning bright in the depths of his eyes. Somewhere in there, under the haze of narcotics, was the same Spencer that had fought tooth and nail for his sobriety all those years ago. My heart broke for him.

           “Of course, you didn’t, Spence. We know that,” I said, almost reaching out to touch him before thinking better of it. “We’re thinking it might be Scratch.”

           Just like before, when I had first spoken to him, absolutely no sign of recognition showed itself on his face.

           “Scratch,” he muttered detachedly, much the same as before.

           Luke’s phone rang then and he excused himself for a moment before stepping away. I looked to Rossi and Emily, who seemed to also be at a loss for words. The silence that filled the room was excruciating, and I once again started to feel like the walls were closing in on me. I wanted nothing more than to scream, to cry out in frustration. The whole situation was unfair in a way that I didn’t think was possible. I was a big believer in karma; put good in and get good out, or something like that. But now, standing outside of a holding cell that looked more like a dungeon than anything, I was ready to throw away that belief entirely.

Of all the people that I know, Spencer was the least deserving of something like this.

           Just when I began to consider ducking outside for a breath of fresh air, Luke returned.

           “Hey, the team sent this. Is this the doctor you met?” he asked, pointing to a picture of a woman he had pulled up on his phone. The woman was of Mexican descent, with short, choppy gray hair. She appeared to be middle aged, from what I could guess.

           Spencer stared at the picture before nodding.

           “Her alias is Rosa Medina and her real name is Nadi Ramos. Garcia tracked her to a motel just outside of town. Does that sound familiar?”

           Spencer’s brows furrowed and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

           “No.”

           “Okay, we’ll need to take Castenada and his officers with us,” Emily announced, before turning and heading towards the door.

           “Do you want company here?” Rossi asked.

           Spencer seemed to take a moment to process before answering with an almost imperceptible nod. He turned his head and focused his gaze on me.

           “Can�� Can you stay?”

           Rossi turned to face me too, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘are you okay with this?’ I gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile. Honestly, I wasn’t entirely sure that I could handle this; the this that I am referring to being a nearly catatonic Spencer Reid. I was used to the Spencer who regaled me with interesting tidbits of information whenever there was a lull in conversation. The Spencer that stood before me now was a shell of his former self, and that terrified me.

           “I’ll be fine here. Let me know if you guys find anything,” I told Rossi. He nodded once to me before enveloping me in a tight hug.

           “Resta forte mia piccolo colomba,” Rossi murmured in my ear. I hadn’t a clue what the phrase meant, but the words draped over me like a warm blanket. Suddenly the weight of the current situation didn’t seem so heavy, and I felt immensely thankful that a man like David Rossi was in my life.

           Rossi pressed his lips to the top of my head before releasing me. He gave one last, despairing look to Spencer before hurrying off after Luke and Emily. It could’ve been the light playing tricks on me, or maybe the exhaustion, but when Rossi turned away from us, I swear I saw tears welling in his eyes.

           And then there were two.

           I took glance at my watch for the first time all day, cringing when I saw the time to be 8:17PM. Quantico was an hour ahead, meaning Gavin was probably losing his shit wondering where I was. I sighed, fishing my phone out of my back pocket and turning it on.

           “Spence, I’m going to make a phone call really quick,” I murmured. He offered no reply, just as I had come to expect. He was watching me, standing stock still in the same place he had been the entire time. I moved to stand in the doorway, hopefully far enough away that he couldn’t hear me anymore.

           As soon as my phone booted up, a plethora of notifications came through. Seventeen missed calls and twenty-four unread text messages, to be exact. I decided to forgo reading the messages, instead pressing the return call button and tapping my foot anxiously against the floor. Gavin didn’t keep me waiting long, picking up on the very first ring.

           “About time you answer your goddamn phone,” he hissed out. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? I even called your office phone and no one would answer that, either. What the fuck is going on? Where are you?”

           “I’m… In Mexico.”

           A long pause followed and I held my breath, waiting for the onslaught to begin.

           “You left the country without even bothering to tell me?” Gavin asked, his voice raising in volume. I could picture him now; probably sitting on our sofa, fists balled together and jaw clenched. “Would you like to enlighten me as to why you’re in Mexico?”

           I closed my eyes, frustration bubbling deep inside me. Today was arguably the shittiest day of my entire life, and I certainly didn’t need Gavin harping on about how I hadn’t been in touch. Honestly, informing him of my whereabouts had been the furthest thing from my mind.

           “It’s Spencer,” I began, trying to think of the proper way to word it all. “He got into some… trouble. We think he’s being framed by Scratch.”

           “Isn’t that the guy that just went after Tara’s family?”

           “Yeah, it is. He’s been laying low for the past few months, and I guess he was just building up to all of this. It’s really bad, Gav,” I whispered the last bit, hoping that Spencer couldn’t hear me. If he did, he made no move that indicated it. “He’s high out of his mind and can’t remember anything.”

           “How long will you guys be there?” Gavin asked, completely ignoring the fact that I mentioned Spencer at all. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from saying something I might regret. I understand that he doesn’t like the guy, but he could show some common decency and at least pretend.

           “I’m not entirely sure. Rossi, Emily, and Luke just headed out to go check on a lead. I don’t know how long that’ll take.”

           “Wait, so, where are you?”

           “I’m at the jail with Spencer, why?” I inquired, running my hand through my hair and absentmindedly combing out the knots that had formed. I was sure that I looked a right mess, but I couldn’t be too bothered to care.

           “Let me get this straight. They left you alone with a guy who is wasted on God knows what, not knowing how he’ll react to it?” A bitter laugh flowed through the phone speaker. “Sounds like you don’t exactly work with the smartest bunch. What if he tries to attack you or something?”

           I let his words hang in the air for a moment, unable to formulate a reply that wasn’t something like you’re being an absolute fucking dick bag right now. No, I was a grown woman and I was going to communicate like one, despite the fact that his ignorant reply was making me shake with rage.

           “The first thing I’m going to address is the fact that this is not some guy. We’re talking about my best friend and teammate, and his name is Spencer. Use it,” I said through gritted teeth. “The second thing is that he’s not some wild animal. He’s not going to try to come through the bars and pounce on me. What he’s going through right now is traumatic, and he doesn’t need to be left alone right now. Show some compassion.”

           “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry,” Gavin muttered. It was the most unapologetic apology I’d ever heard in my life, prompting me to roll my eyes. I don’t understand how I can love someone and want to throttle them simultaneously. “I’m just worried about you, is all. How are you holding up?”

           “I’m as good as can be expected,” I sighed, bringing my free hand up to rub at my eyes. “I’m just tired of watching this guy terrorize all of my friends. First, he takes Hotch from us, then he nearly kills Tara’s brother, and now this. I’m beginning to think we���ll never catch a break.”

           “I know you’re tired, baby. Just try to hang on a little bit longer. As much as I question some of their decisions, your team is good at what they do. You guys will catch him. I have faith in you.”

           There it is. That’s the Gavin that I fell in love with.

           “Thank you,” I murmured. “It’s been a long day and I needed to hear that.” I cast a glance back at Spencer, who was now staring down at his bandaged hand, an indiscernible expression on his face. He looked so lost, standing all alone in the grimy holding cell. The lights cast shadows on his face, making his already angular face look gaunt. The Spencer I knew was the human embodiment of light; filling up every room he was in with his delightfully idiosyncratic presence. The Spencer in the cell was so shrouded in darkness that the room seemed to be swallowing him whole, taking his brilliance and crushing it into smithereens.

“Gav, I think I need to get back in there.”

           “Yeah, alright. Just keep me in the loop this time, please. I don’t like not knowing where my girlfriend is.”

           “I’ll make sure to check in whenever I can,” I promised, before tacking on a, “love you.”

           “Love you, too.”

           I pocketed my phone with hands that shook, no longer from rage but from apprehension. I liked to think that I was good at my job. I had done well at the academy; not well enough to have graduated at the top of my class, but I did manage to be in the top ten. After lucking into the job of a lifetime, I had fully committed myself to learning to be the best profiler I could possibly be. Two years of piecing together the innerworkings of criminal minds had taught me more than I ever could have imagined about the human psyche. I had talked many a deranged psychopath down from the ledge, and I had saved more than a few lives along the way. Unfortunately, not all cases can end favorably. Those are the ones that taught me the most.

           For all that I learned, nothing could’ve prepared me to deal with the shell of a man that stood before me.

           I was standing in front of him now, fiddling nervously with my hands. When Spencer had originally told me about his battle with addiction, I had taken it upon myself to do some research of my own. I wanted to be able to identify the signs, God forbid he ever relapse. While conducting my research, I had read somewhere that the best way to support someone during a come down is by remaining positive and creating a calm, safe environment.

           I was currently the antithesis of calm, but for Spencer’s sake, I was going to do my best.

           I took a step forward and offered him a small smile.

           “I’ve never seen you in jeans and boots before,” I said. I was proud of myself when the words came out sounding relatively casual. “It’s a good look on you, but I have to admit I prefer the academic look. I suppose it’s the sapiosexual in me.”

           He gave no response, but the tinniest tug at the corner of his mouth told me that he found my comment amusing.

           I let my eyes drag over him again and I fixated on the bandage on his right hand, frowning.

           “Do you remember what happened to your hand?”

           Spencer raised his hand up, absentmindedly flipping it over and inspecting it.

           “I don’t know,” he murmured. Spencer’s usually high pitched voice came out gravely, no doubt a byproduct of dehydration related to the drugs. My eyes skimmed across the holding cell and I frowned when I saw no water fountain in sight.

           “M’ gonna go get you some water, okay?” I turned away and pivoted on my heel, taking one step before a hand wrapped around my upper arm. I spun around so fast I nearly caught whiplash.

           Spencer’s eyes were wide and full of panic, conveying more emotion than he’d had since we’d arrived. His eyebrows were drawn together as well, contorting his face into a pitiful expression.

           “Don’t go,” he rasped, his hand still firmly grasping my arm. “Please.”

           The hopelessness in his voice was like a dagger through my heart. I nodded fervently and placed my hand over his, prompting him to loosen his grip. He did, and I took his hand in both of mine. I rubbed my thumbs over his skin, haphazardly tracing patterns in an attempt to calm him.

           “Yeah, okay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” I soothed, bringing his hand up to my mouth and placing a chaste kiss to the skin. “I’ve got you, Spence. It’s all going to be okay.”

           The look of panic slowly washed away the longer we stood there. He held onto my hands like I was a lifeline, the only thing tethering him to the ground. While I longed for nothing more than to really embrace him, to pull all of him into my arms and hold on for dear life, the bars that separated us inhibited me from doing so. So instead I just relished in the feel of his hand intertwined with my own.

           It would have to be enough for now.

--

           Nadi Ramos was dead.

           I didn’t have to ask Emily to know that the situation had gone from bad to absolutely fucking terrible. We knew Scratch was a horrendous individual; that much had been proved by his preferred modus operandi. We also knew that he had become fixated on taking down each of us one by one. He’d tried twice with Hotch, even going as far as to target his son, resulting in the two of them joining WITSEC for their own safety. The next blow had come when he had set his sights on Tara, or, more specifically, her brother. We’d gotten lucky with that one, having located and freed her brother just in the nick of time. After the incident with Tara’s brother, we all expected the next attack to come in quick succession. When several months passed with no sign of Scratch, we all became terribly on edge. No one was saying it, but we all were waiting to see which one of us would be next, crossing our fingers and hoping it wouldn’t be us.

           I knew that none of us were exempt from Scratch’s wrath, but for some reason, I’d never imagined him targeting Spencer.

           And target him he fucking did.

           “We know you didn’t do this,” Emily spoke for the group, knowing good and well that we were all on the same page.

           “How did it happen?” Spencer’s back was to us. His shoulders were slumped and his face downturned.

           “She was stabbed multiple times. It looked personal,” Luke answered, his voice low and careful. It was obvious to us all that he was being extra careful with his wording, making sure to broach the subject carefully. We all knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Spencer was innocent; but that didn’t mean that Spencer did.

           Chief Castenada trudged into the holding cell, the portrait of all things cranky and unpleasant. His presence acted as a proverbial storm cloud on an already shitty day.

           “We got the results of your blood work. There’s cocaine and heroin in your system.”

           “What else?” Emily asked, causing Castenada to give her a confused look.

           “He was in possession of cocaine and heroin when he was arrested. I found what I needed.”

           I felt myself bristle and before I knew it, my mouth was open and I was spouting out pure venom.

           “Thanks so much for doing the bare minimum, but we’re going to need a full tox screen panel. We’re looking for scopolamine.”

           Emily’s eyes cut over to me and if I hadn’t been fighting on Spencer’s behalf, I would’ve withered under the weight of the shut the fuck up look she gave me. Instead, I continued on, silently praying I’d still have a job after today.

           “It’ll take longer, but we need it,” I explained in what I hoped was a slightly more accommodating tone. Castenada gave a curt nod in reply before exiting the room, grumbling something in Spanish that had Luke and Emily shooting daggers at his retreating figure.

           “Do I want to know?”

           Luke shook his head, shooting a small smile in my direction.

           “Let’s just say he’s not your biggest fan, and we’ll leave it at that,” he offered, before straightening out his expression and turning back to Spencer. “You were given a speed ball. The opiates block the dopamine in your brain. That’s why things go from clear to hazy. The combination of the drugs causes a dissociative state and explains the memory loss. Are you coming down now?”

           “I think so,” Spencer said. His cadence wasn’t as slow as it had been earlier, which was a relief.

           “Do you think you could do a cognitive interview?” Emily’s voice was hopeful, and if Spencer was one thing, it was a people pleaser. It was obvious that he was overwhelmed; I had taken note of the fact that he was displaying one of his nervous ticks. Spencer was touching the pad of his thumb on the tips of his other fingers in rapid succession. Despite his obvious discomfort, he nodded his head in agreeance.

           “I’ll try.”

           Rossi took the lull in conversation as an opportunity to hold up the plastic bag in his hand. I narrowed my eyes at it inquisitively. There were five vials of a murky, dark brown liquid in the bag.

           “There were five of these in your bag at the motel. Do you recognize them?”

           Spencer’s eyes zeroed in on the bag and its contents, his brows furrowing. It wasn’t long until a look of partial recognition flashed across his face. It was so faint that if he hadn’t been in a room of profilers, it would’ve gone unnoticed.

           “What is it?” I asked from my place at his side. He’d been somewhat clingy since the incident that had transpired while everyone was at the motel, gravitating towards me as soon as we all had been granted entrance to the holding cell. I knew that he needed familiarity right now; he was in a very vulnerable state and he needed something that made him feel safe and secure.

           Butterflies erupted in my stomach when I had realized what he was doing, that I was that thing that made him feel safe and secure.

Spencer opened his mouth once before closing it, as if trying to put his thoughts into words was difficult. He did this a few more times before settling on,

“Whatever’s in those vials, I was giving it to my mom,” he said, his eyes darting around the room as he spoke. “That’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

           “I’ll have them run it through the lab,” Rossi said, before leaving and heading towards the direction in which Castenada had retreated.

           Emily and Luke were quick to hop into a rushed conversation, leaving only Spencer and I still in the cell. I looked up at him, at the way his forehead creased as he bit his lip in quiet contemplation.

           “Are you sure you’re ready for a cognitive? I know the effects may be wearing off, but you’re gonna be cloudy for a while. If you don’t want to do it now, all you have to do is say the word,” I murmured, keeping my voice low so that only he could hear it. “I can tell that you’re a bit overwhelmed, and that’s okay.”

           Spencer’s response came in the form of a shrug of his shoulders.

           “I want to try, because I know it’s important. I just don’t know that it will be of much help,” he replied, casting his eyes down to me.

           “Yes, it is important, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. We’ll figure this out even if you can’t remember it all right now.”

           Spencer nodded once before running his tongue across his chapped bottom lip.

           “I don’t remember what happened, but I know I didn’t kill her,” he whispered, barely audible. Even though his words were quiet, I could hear the desperation in them; almost as if he was begging me to believe them, begging himself to believe them.

           I made the irrational decision then to throw professionalism aside and wrap both of my arms around his torso, my grip tight and assured. Spencer’s aversion to touch was common knowledge amongst us all, but for some reason that never seemed to apply to me, and I could see in his eyes that the way we were all treating him like he was fragile was wounding him more than he would ever admit. I hoped to remedy that with my embrace, and the speed in which he reciprocated was so fast that I was certain he was thankful. He wrapped his injured hand around my waist, the other finding purchase in my hair. I felt his chest move as he let out a shuddering breath.

           “I know you didn’t, Spence. Everyone on the team knows you didn’t,” I reassured him, my words muffled as my face was pressed against his chest. “And we’re not going to stop until everyone else knows it, too.”

           I was well aware that our embrace had garnered the attention of our teammates, but Spencer’s hold on me hadn’t faltered in the slightest, so I didn’t let mine either. Instead, I gripped the fabric of his flannel shirt tighter in my hands.

--

           When Emily exited the room in which they had conducted the cognitive interview, the look on her face was grim. I visibly cringed at the sight as I felt the sliver of hope that I had left die a miserable death.

           We are so beyond fucked.

           “How’s he doing?” Rossi asked, obviously taking note of the distress on Emily’s face.

           “He’s made some breakthroughs, but I’m not sure how helpful they’ll be,” she sighed, running a hand through her jet-black hair. When none of us spoke, Emily’s eyes flitted around, finally noticing that our expressions were a direct reflection of her own. “What is it?”

           “They just charged Reid with the murder of Nadi Ramos.”

           Hearing it said aloud wasn’t any easier the second time.

--

           While the rest of us had taken it upon ourselves to lean against the cement walls, Luke had begun pacing down the short hallway. After about ten minutes of unbearable silence, he decided he’d had enough.

           “We can’t get him out of here, can we?” he finally spoke, his voice a mix of anger and desperation.

           “I don’t know how.”

           “He didn’t kill her,” I reiterated, speaking more to myself than the three of them.

           “If all I had to go on was the evidence, I would swear he did,” Rossi sighed. I knew he was right; Spencer’s personal belongings were all over the hotel room, which was about as incriminating as you could get. “But knowing Reid, hearing the cognitive…”

           “Yes, he said there was another person in that motel room, but,” Emily pressed play on the audio recording, and her voice proceeded to flow through the speakers.

           “Who has the knife? Who is stabbing Rosa?”

           “I don’t know. It’s in my hand.”

           Emily pressed the power button and the screen went black.

           “Right now, this is just more evidence against him.”

           “So, what do we do now? Do we just sit and twiddle our thumbs until the consulate agrees to the extradition?” I asked. “There’s got to be more we can do. We can’t let them take him to jail, he won’t survive in there.”

           “I called in some help from IRT. Clara Seger and Matt Simmons will be arriving at any moment,” Emily said, checking her phone after hearing it ping. “In fact, that would be them. They’re here.”

           I breathed a sigh of relief as we all fell into step beside Emily. Having people from other areas of expertise that are willing to help is a good thing. Maybe they’ll be able to see something that we didn’t.

--

           “We come bearing good news,” I announced, leading the group as we all entered the holding cell. Spencer was quick to turn around and the corners of his lips pulled upwards as he set his sights on all of us. “Back up is here.”

           “Hey Spencer,” Matt greeted, offering up a small smile before crossing his arms across his chest.

           “Hey,” Spencer replied, moving to stand up from his spot on the bench. He was still a little wobbly on his feet, but he was doing much better than he was when we had arrived. “Thank you for coming.”

           “Yeah, of course. Jack and me are finishing up a case in Costa Rica, so we hopped on a commercial plane to get here,” Clara explained.

           “We’re trying to stop you transfer to El Diablo.”

           Spencer’s eyes darted over to me and he swallowed hard before speaking.

           “Do you think it’s possible?” Hearing the hope in his voice tugged at my heart strings. The way that he could manage to stay optimistic at time like this was a true testament to his character.

           “Yes,” Clara began. “Lab reports on the vials came back and some of what was in there hasn’t been approved by the FDA, but there aren’t any illegal substances.”

           “That’s great news,” I sighed, letting out the breath that I didn’t know I had been holding.

           “Is there anything else you remember about your time here?”

           “I remember what happened to the vials at home. My mom threw most of them out.”

           “So, that’s why you were here. To get more,” Clara said in an attempt to clarify.

           “It must be,” Spencer murmured, shuffling anxiously from one foot to the other.

           “Well, you’re off the hook for that. There’s no contraband involved,” Matt announced. Okay, this is good. One less thing to worry about.

           “Yeah, but we’re still looking at the planted drug and the murder charges, which could keep you here for a long time.”

           “Can we do anything to delay the transfer?” I wondered aloud. Clara took into account what I said and sighed, before turning towards Spencer once again.

           “You said that you met Nadi, who calls herself Rosa, in Houston. Why didn’t she just give you the vials in the U.S.?”

           “I don’t know,” Spencer said, running his uninjured hand through his hair. “I don’t know, but she helped us and I trusted her. I was right to. I still believe that.”

           “Well, she convinced you to cross the border multiple times. She had you risk your life,” Matt argued.

           “Because she must have something to lose, too,” I mumbled, eliciting a series of fervent nods from Clara. “Family, maybe?”

           “We need to know more about her,” Clara said.

           And then, something glorious happened. It was like a switch had flipped inside of Spencer’s head, and all of the sudden the lights were back on. I could tell that he had been struck with an idea, and it was a wonderous sight to behold.

           “What was in those vials?” Spencer asked, only solidifying my observation.

           Matt produced a paper with the lab results and began reading off the results.

           “There are so nootropic compounds like Ampalex, uh, but also some more natural stuff; coral calcium, jimson weed, coconut oil, a variety of vitamins. B12, D3-”

           “Where are we right now?” Spencer interjected.

           “Matamoros, Northern Mexico.”

           “Jimson weed, otherwise known as the Devil’s Snare, originated in Mexico but its natural growing region is further north or south of the border,” Spencer said, his words flowing out rapidly. I felt my heart soar and I didn’t even try to suppress the smile that fought its way to my face.

           “Boy Genius is back,” I announced, and for just a moment, the mood in the room lightened for the first time all day.

           “So, if it isn’t from here, then were did she get it?” Clara asked.

           “Let me get Garcia on,” Emily murmured, dialing the number and tapping her foot as it rang. On the third ring, Penelope’s bright and cheerful voice filled the room, a sunbeam shining through on a cloudy day.

           “Please tell me you’re calling to tell me some good news.”

           “Garcia, I have some questions for you.”

           “Hey, Penelope,” Matt greeted, earning a pleasantly surprised gasp from the woman on the other end.

           “Oh my God, it’s the dulcet tones of Matt Simmons,” Penelope gushed. “Are you there to save the day?”

           “I’m trying. Clara’s here, too.” A relieved sigh floated through the speakers.

           “Knowing we have you guys as backup is providing me some much-needed hope, and I work better this way.”

           “Hey, lady,” Clara greeted. “We’re trying to catch up on a few things. Where is Nadi Ramos from?” Before Clara even managed to finish her sentence, the sound of Garcia’s acrylic nails tapping away at her keyboard could be heard.

           “Mm she lives with her family just north of Matamoros.”

           “That must be where she got the jimson weed,” Emily pointed out.

           “What’s weird in she crosses the border, like, a lot.”

           “Why?”

           “Well, she works in Houston at that clinic, but she also helps at a low-income healthcare center. I can’t find a visa on her, which is double weird. And, in finishing the weird trifecta, there’s a social security number on her W2 form.”

           “Social security? She’s an American citizen?” I asked. Matt confirmed my suspicions with a nod of his head.

           “Yeah, she had dual citizenship. She was born in Houston, and her family had to move back to Mexico. She lives with them and she works in the U.S.”

           “This changes everything. We need to talk to the consulate,” Emily stated.

           Just as things were beginning to look up, Chief Castenada decided to grace us with his presence once more; and this time, he had an entourage.

           “It’s time for his transfer,” Castenada announced, looking pointedly in my direction.

           “We’ve had a break in the case,” Emily argued, shaking her head at him. “The victim was also American, and that calls for extradition.”

           Castenada merely shrugged before walking past us all.

           “I’ve got orders, sorry,” he muttered, making Gavin’s apology from earlier in the day sound heartfelt in comparison. Castenada wasted no time in beginning to place handcuffs on Spencer, locking them in place with a definitive click. Spencer and I shared a look of panic before both of us looked towards Emily in a silent plea.

           One of the men roughly grabbed Spencer by the arm and led him from the room. I watched in horror as they led him away, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. I barely registered the fact that Emily was now on the phone. I just stood there, staring blankly at the entrance to the cell.

           “With the victim having dual citizenship, we now have concurrent jurisdiction. It was my understanding that the official order to extradite SSA Spencer Reid would be evaluated,” Emily damn near snarled into the phone. She paused for a moment, listening to the voice on the other line, before a look of relief washed over her face. “I understand, thank you.” She promptly hung up the phone before turning to face Luke. “They’re taking it to their brass. Go get him.”

           Luke took off in a rush, not needing to be told twice.

           I only wished I could be there to see the look on Castenada’s face.

--

           “We’re working on all channels here. Matt Cruz is on with the consulate right now. We could get an immediate extradition, but it’s just the beginning,” Emily explained, her voice stern.

           Spencer regarded her with a weary expression. The drug induced haze had finally lifted, leaving him painfully aware of how dire the situation was.

           “I really screwed up and I’m so sorry,” he choked out, resulting in a crack forming in Emily’s hard exterior. I couldn’t blame her; it wasn’t easy to stay mad at Spencer Reid. Spencer’s eyes were like kryptonite to most; big and brown and full of emotion. I’m sure if you searched ‘puppy dog eyes’ in the dictionary, a picture of Spencer Reid would be found in example.

           “It was for the right reason.”

           “I can’t remember what happened, but I know I didn’t kill anyone.” It was obvious in the way that he kept repeating the words that he was desperate for us to believe him. No amount of calm reassurance from us could quell the voice in his head that was surely telling him that we thought him guilty.

           “We do, too.”

           Clara was first to enter the cell, immediately followed by Matt.

           “Hey, they approved the extradition,” Clara announced, smiling brightly at the three of us.

           “Effective immediately,” Matt added on.

           We all exchanged relieved smiles before Matt and Clara led Spencer from the cell. Emily and I were quick to follow, right on Matt’s heels when we were stopped by Castenada.

           “I must point out that I feel like justice isn’t exactly being served with this move.”

           I pursed my lips together. In the short time we had been in Mexico, my feelings towards the man had grown from distaste to almost a full-blown hatred. That being said, I couldn’t help but understand where he was coming from. If Spencer hadn’t been a federal agent, he wouldn’t be granted the privilege of the extradition. Nor would he be allowed to fly home with us. I hated to admit it, but Castenada made a valid point.

           “I understand, but I can assure you that this has gone to the highest ranks and there will be a full investigation,” Emily reassured him.

           “Thank you for working with us,” I offered in an attempt to smooth over the rift I had created earlier. Now that my judgement wasn’t so clouded by my need to defend Spencer, I could see the error of my ways. I hadn’t been the most professional.

           Castenada nodded once in my direction before turning his attention back to Emily.

           “For our reports, I would like to have the recording of that cognitive interview.”

           I felt my blood run cold. That interview would just add to the list of things that could be used against Spencer in court. He had openly admitted to holding the murder weapon in his own hands, an admission that would surely earn him twenty to life.

           We cannot give him that recording.

           Emily seemed to be on the same page as I was.

           “I didn’t record it.”

           Castenada’s face contorted into an ugly frown.

           “But that was our agreement,” he squawked angrily.

           “I determined he was still under the influence. Anything he said wouldn’t have clarified matters.”

           Castenada’s gaze never faltered, eyeing Emily in an attempt to discern if she was giving him the run around. Luckily, Castenada was unable to find a hint of dishonesty on Emily’s face, and he nodded in resignation.

           Years of profiling will teach you how to control your micro expressions.

           “You’re committed agents. And I’ve worked with the IRT before. I trust you know what you’re doing.”

           “We do. I promise,” I stated, my voice giving off more confidence than I felt. Yes, I thought to myself, there’s no doubt that we’re good at what we do.

           But so is Scratch.

--

           All was quiet on the jet, the steady thrum of the engine being the only sound that could be heard. Rossi had been the only one able to fall asleep, something that I would be sure to tease him about later. Next to Rossi sat Emily, who had busied herself with flipping through Spencer’s arresting report. Clara and Matt sat across from them, engulfed in their own hushed conversation.

           Spencer had opted to sit on the couch, but he didn’t allow himself to sprawl out like he normally would have done. He was visibly exhausted, wiping at his eyes frequently in an attempt to keep the fatigue at bay. It was almost like he was punishing himself; like he didn’t feel he deserved the solace that sleep would bring.

           “You should go talk to him. See if you can’t get him to lay down,” Luke whispered encouragingly from his seat beside mine.

           “I have no idea what to say to him,” I confessed. I tore my gaze away from Spencer and turned my attention to Luke. “There’s nothing I can say that will make this any better.”

           “You’re not wrong about that, but maybe just letting him know you’re here for him will help. Just go and sit with him, I’m sure he could use a friend right now.”

           Luke was right. I let out a dramatic sigh before shooting Luke a pointed look.

           “Since when did you get so insightful?”

           A grin stretched its way across his face.

           “Always have been, sweetness. It’s part of my charm. I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.”

           “And on that note, I’ll be going,” I announced, standing up from my seat and walking the short distance to the couch. Luke’s chuckles sounded off behind me and I couldn’t help but smile; note to self, make more of an effort to get to know Luke Alvez.

I approached slowly, hoping not to startle him as he seemed to be lost in his own world. He didn’t notice me until I came to a stop in front of the couch. Spencer’s head shot up suddenly, the worry on his face melting away to form a small smile.

“Hi,” I greeted, returning his smile tenfold. “You looked like you could use some company. Do you mind if I sit?”

Spencer gave me a soft smile and scooted over, patting at the space next to him. I lowered myself onto the couch, angling my body so it was facing him.

“You’re tired,” I observed, leaning back into the soft cushions. Spencer shrugged in reply, opening his mouth to argue, only for a yawn to slip out. I let out a light laugh. “Don’t even try to argue. There’s no telling how long you’ve been up. Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

Spencer’s eyes reluctantly met mine and I felt almost paralyzed when I saw the sheer vulnerability in them.

“Researchers from the University of Cardiff conducted a two-part study looking at whether people’s daily frustration or fulfilment of their psychological needs, such as feeling autonomous or competent, affects their dreams. The results from the first study showed that people who were frustrated with their daily situation tended to have recurring dreams in which they were falling, failing or being attacked,” he rasped out, his words jumbling together as they fell from his mouth in rapid succession. “The lead author on the study concluded that negative dream emotions may directly result from distressing dream events, and might represent the psyche’s attempt to process and make sense of particularly psychologically challenging waking experiences.”

“And you’re worried your dreams will reflect what happened today.”

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek before nodding in affirmation.

“I can’t promise you that you won’t dream about those things,” I began, my voice coming out soft. “But I can tell you that sleep deprivation can cause lots of very unfortunate symptoms like impaired memory, reduced physical strength, and inability to concentrate. Do you know how I know those things?”

A light flush dusted over the tops of his cheeks.

“Probably because I’ve made it a habit to bore you with my information dumps.”

I shook my head adamantly, reaching a hand up and ruffling up his hair. He batted my hand away, ducking his head to try and hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“Never a bore, Spence. But yes, I know those things because of you and that remarkable brain of yours. And we’re going to need that remarkable brain in tip top shape if we want to get you out of this mess, understood?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he relented.

I patted a hand on my lap, an invitation for him to use me as a pillow. He seemed hesitant, eyes flitting from my face before going back down to my lap.

“Don’t act shy around me, Pretty Boy. I know better than anyone that you’re a secret cuddle bug,” I teased, earning a snort from the man next to me.

“Am not,” he harrumphed, before deciding to take me up on my offer. He laid his head down on my lap before stretching his legs out across the expanse of the couch. My heart lurched pitifully when he nuzzled his head into my leg before letting out a loud sigh.

“Thank you,” Spencer whispered, voice thick with emotion. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, casting tiny shadows on his face. I smiled at the sight and began carding my hands through his hair.

“No need to thank me,” I murmured, raking my nails against his scalp and eliciting a pleased hum from him. “Don’t you worry about a thing, okay? We’re going to get you out of this. I know we will. And don’t worry about your mom, either; I’m going to check on your mom every day, I promise.”

Spencer’s breathing stuttered at the mention of Diana, and I worried I had crossed a line. He stayed silent for a moment, before moving his hand up and squeezing my knee.

“You’re entirely too good to me.”

“Yeah, well, you’d do the same for me. That’s what friends are for.”

No more words were exchanged, and within five minutes Spencer’s breathing evened out and he was asleep.

--

Several hours later, we were all filing out of the elevator and into the bullpen. I shivered slightly as the cool air hit my bare arms, but I tried not to show my discomfort. I’d shrugged off my sweater and offered it to Spencer the moment we stepped off the jet, draping it across his cuffed hands in an attempt to conceal them. Spencer had thanked me with a pitiful smile and I returned the sentiment, blinking several times to try and stifle the tears pooling in my eyes.

JJ was the first to greet him, with Stephen, Tara and Penelope following closely behind. I watched on for a moment before my attention was pulled elsewhere. Stephen’s phone had rung, prompting him to slip away from the group and retreat further down the hall. I furrowed my brow at this, taking advantage of my colleagues’ distraction as I wandered towards Stephen. I strained to hear his whispered words, but just as soon as I neared, he ended the call.

“What was that about?” I asked quietly. The look on his face told me that the news couldn’t be good, and I didn’t want to ruin the reunion going on just down the hall. They all deserved a few moments of relief.

Stephen let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his hair before speaking.

“I, uh, just got a call. Reid isn’t eligible for the bureau’s legal assistance.”

Stephen’s words sent a jolt of white-hot dread through me. “How is that even possible?”            “Spencer went without being briefed, and he wasn’t in Mexico on government business. They refuse to represent him.”

I let my wary eyes drift down the hall, towards the group of wonderful misfits that I had grown to think of as family;

Penelope, whose optimism never wavered, even in the face of the absolute worst that the world had to offer.

JJ, a devoted mother with a heart of gold and a fierceness that inspired me every single day.

Tara, one of the most intelligent and caring women I had ever had the privilege to know.

Rossi, a father figure to all with enough wisdom to create a legacy that would inspire generations of profilers to be.

Emily, a fearless leader whom I trusted with my life and would follow into battle without question.

Luke, a newcomer who took special care to comfort me when I was at my worst.

Spencer, a man too remarkable to even try to describe with words. A man that anyone of us would defend until our very last breath.

That undeniable truth gave birth to the tiny sliver of hope growing inside of me. Spencer Reid was innocent, and we are all hellbent on proving it.

I nodded once in affirmation, more to myself than to Stephen, before allowing myself to meet his gaze.

“We’re on our own.”

And if anyone could pull this off, it was this team. My team.

There is a point when facing the unknown stops being a longed-for adventure and becomes a terrifying reality.

           -Storm Constantine