#alex blake x fem!character

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 6. ain't like home

burn the bridges in our town till the point where we drown, as it all comes down. - Dotan, Home

S E P T E M B E R   1 7 T H   2 0 1 1

Coming back to Kansas City stirred up a storm of feelings inside me, pulling memories from the depths where they'd been hiding for so long. Walking down those streets again, it felt like a tug-of-war between wanting to be here and wishing I were anywhere else.

It had been ages since I'd been in this city, and part of me questioned if I even wanted to be back. But duty called, reminding me why I'd returned—Maile needed me, and that was reason enough.

"Alex."

The sound of my name, spoken with such gravity, cut through the air, snapping me back to reality. I turned to see my brother coming towards me, a reminder of the family ties that bind us, whether we liked it or not.

Inhaling deeply to steady my nerves, I acknowledged him with a nod, my greeting carrying a mix of composure and underlying tension. "Scott," I said, my tone carefully neutral, though hints of apprehension lingered beneath the surface.

Despite the warmth of the sun casting its golden glow over the city streets, an intangible chill seemed to permeate the air, casting a shadow over our interaction.

His question hung between us, weighted with skepticism and perhaps a touch of judgment. "What brings you back here?" he queried, his voice betraying a hint of doubt.

Meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve, I made my intentions clear. "I'm here for Maile," I asserted firmly, my words leaving no room for misinterpretation.

An incredulous scoff escaped him, accompanied by a dismissive roll of his eyes. "You're kidding, right?" he retorted, frustration lacing his voice. "I thought you were done with all of that, you finally moved on."

Though his words stung, I refused to let them shake my determination. "Maile's gone missing, Scott," I explained, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily in my tone. "I couldn't just ignore that."

His uncertainty was clear, etched in the lines of his face and the cautious tone in his voice. "I thought you and her weren't on speaking terms," he remarked, his curiosity evident.

I met his gaze squarely, my determination unwavering despite the skepticism in his eyes. "There's more to it than that," I replied, my voice steady.

His skepticism persisted as he leaned forward, pressing for more information. "How can you be so sure she's missing?" he probed further.

In response, I reached across the table, laying out the collection of poems in front of him. His brow furrowed as he examined the pages, his skepticism growing. "What's the deal with these?" he questioned, his tone tinged with suspicion.

"Poems," I stated plainly, my voice calm but resolute. Despite his doubts, I knew these verses held the key to understanding Maile's disappearance, and I was determined to make him understand their significance. "She wrote them."

He delicately lifted the first poem from the table, his fingers moving with a mix of caution and curiosity, as though each line held a hidden message waiting to be deciphered. With furrowed brows, he scanned the verses, his gaze lingering on certain words, perhaps searching for clues that eluded even the most discerning eye.

After a moment, he set the first poem down and reached for the second, his demeanor shifting to one of deeper concentration. His eyes darted across the page, absorbing each word with intent scrutiny, as if trying to unravel the secrets woven within the lines. Finally, with a thoughtful exhale, he placed the second poem beside the first, his expression a blend of contemplation and skepticism.

Turning his attention back to me, he voiced his doubts, his tone tinged with uncertainty. "What makes you so certain she wrote these?" he questioned, his skepticism challenging the notion that these poems were Maile's handiwork.

I felt a pang of frustration at my inability to provide concrete evidence, my conviction resting solely on intuition and the haunting familiarity of Maile's writing style. How could I convey the depth of my certainty when I lacked tangible proof?

Sensing my inner turmoil, Hotch interjected with a calm authority, his voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Let me point something out," he began, his tone measured yet authoritative. "In the first poem, the word 'Smiles' is capitalized and circled in what we believe to be her blood. And as you might know, your sister used to call her-"

My brother's expression softened slightly as Hotch's words sank in, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. "Smiles," he echoed, the word carrying a weight of memories and shared experiences. Yet, despite this moment of recognition, skepticism still lingered as he voiced his doubts. "You know, Alex, this is a stretch to say the least. We need more than just circumstantial evidence to make such claims."

With determination in my voice, I faced him squarely, my patience wearing thin like an old rug. "You don't need to help us, Scott," I shot back, frustration seeping into my tone. "We've been given a place on your turf. If you want to join our investigation, feel free to do so. If you don't, stay the hell out of my way."

Turning sharply on my heel, I exited the room, leaving behind a lingering cloud of tension thicker than molasses. Despite my departure, the echo of conversation between my brother and my team members still reached my ears.

Morgan's words hung in the air like a gentle breeze, a reminder of the seriousness of the situation. "This means a great deal to her," his voice carried, tinged with concern. "You might want to take it seriously."

But my brother's response sliced through the atmosphere like a sharp knife, his tone rigid and unwavering. "I can't," he snapped back tersely. "I can't take anything seriously that has to do with that Crane girl. Alex's always been crazy about that girl, something I never understood. That girl is insane, and makes Alex look like a pedophile. I... Alex can't think straight when it comes to that girl."

As his words sank into my thoughts, a mix of frustration and disbelief bubbled up within me. How could he casually dismiss the seriousness of our situation, shrugging off the urgency of our investigation like it was nothing? But it was clear that changing his mind wouldn't be easy.

"Is it really that hard to ease her mind?" Hotch's question hung in the air like a heavy fog, casting a palpable tension over the room as everyone waited for my brother's response. When he stayed quiet, Hotch pushed forward, his voice steady but firm.

"If you don't trust Blake," Hotch started, his words deliberate, "that's okay. But then help us by proving that Maile Crane has nothing to do with this. We need to know everything about her. And everything about her connection with your sister."

As I observed him from behind the partially open blinds of the office, I could sense the weight of his frustration in the way his hands grasped at his hair. His voice, tinged with a mix of nostalgia and unease, filled the room as he began to recount memories from our past.

"We used to live right across from the Crane family," he started, his voice taking on a reflective tone. "There was Everett Crane, Josephine, and Maile. They were always a bit peculiar." His words hung in the air, carrying a mix of uncertainty and intrigue.

"He was a friendly guy, everyone in the neighborhood loved him," he continued, a hint of fondness creeping into his voice. "Josephine kept to herself mostly, didn't socialize much. Alex, though, she really took a shine to her. I think Alex was probably the only person Josephine ever really talked to around here."

Listening to his memories, I couldn't help but reflect on my own experiences with our former neighbors. Josephine held a special place in my heart; she was like a second mother to me. Despite the description, I remembered her as gentle and nurturing, always there with a kind word or a story to share. She had taught me how to read, passing on a gift that I later shared with her daughter, Maile.

As he delved further into his memories, each word seemed to stir up a whirlwind of emotions inside me. His voice, lacking any emotion, cut through the air, yet his words sparked a fiery anger within me.

"I guess I never really got to know her," he continued, his tone distant. "But she... she was always just wandering around, observing everything. And whenever someone tried to talk to her, she'd bolt and run away." His words painted a picture of Maile, but it clashed with the lively, spirited girl I remembered.

"Nobody really got close to her, except for Alex," he added. At the mention of my name, a flood of memories rushed back—times spent with Maile, secrets shared under the moonlight.

"My sister was crazy about that girl, more than she was about her own family," he admitted, bitterness dripping from his words. "She'd make decisions, big ones, based on what would be good for Maile." His revelation filled the room, highlighting the sacrifices made for love.

"People in the neighborhood thought she was obsessed with that girl. They wondered if she'd had a 'thing' for Maile," he continued, his tone heavy with resentment. "They started to keep a distance. It really put a strain on our family." The weight of his confession lingered, casting a shadow over our past.

Leaving the building, weighed down by my brother's revelations, I sought refuge in the calmness of the precinct's benches outside. The breeze offered a soothing touch against my skin, a brief respite from the storm raging within.

Soon, my team joined me, their presence a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my mind. Morgan's question broke the silence, delving straight to the heart of the matter.

"Did Maile always have to watch out for people?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

I nodded, memories of the Crane household flooding back vividly. "Yeah, he beat that into her. Same with Josephine," I confessed, the gravity of my words hanging in the air. "They lived in constant fear of everyone."

Anxiety gripped me tightly as I spoke, a sense of urgency pushing my words forward. "I want to make something clear. I wasn't in love with Maile. I loved- still love her, but I promise..."

Hotch's hand gently rested on my shoulder, offering a momentary sense of reassurance. His eyes conveyed understanding as he spoke softly. "We know, Blake," he reassured me, his voice a comforting presence in the midst of my turmoil. "But we also recognize that circumstances change."

I turned to him, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. "What do you mean?" I inquired, my voice tinged with uncertainty and a hint of fear.

His expression softened, a mixture of sympathy and resolve evident in his gaze. "What I mean is, Maile holds a special place in your heart," he explained gently but firmly. "No matter how much time passes or how hard you try to deny it, she's deeply ingrained in your soul. The way you talk about her, the way you care for her—you have given her your heart and you're not gonna get it back. Blake. And that's something you can't change. She is the love of your life."

His words struck a chord deep inside me, reminding me of something I had tried to ignore. Thinking back on my life, I couldn't deny the strong feelings I always had for Maile. No matter what, she was the most important person to me.

I tried to find happiness with other people, getting into relationships and even getting married. But nothing compared to what I felt for Maile. Even when she wasn't around, I couldn't forget about her. She was always on my mind, guiding me like a bright light in the dark.

In my life story, Maile was like the string that held everything together. Even though I tried to move on, she was always there, shaping my decisions and influencing my path.

With a heavy heart, I accepted the undeniable truth: Maile was more than just a friend; she was the love of my life, the one who held the key to my heart, even when she was absent from it.

"So where are we going next?" Morgan asked.

Raising my gaze to meet Morgan's inquisitive eyes, I felt a surge of determination coursing through me, mingling with the memories that flooded my mind. "We're going to 'the house across the street'."

[auroralwriting]

home

spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

spencer gets shot, and you don't know who you need to forgive: him, or yourself.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: no use of y/n, spencer gets shot, season 9, blood and violence, criminal minds type violence, negative self thoughts, angsty but it turns fluffy, spencer's drug addiction is discussed, best friends to lovers

The ringing in your ears overwhelmed you. Shots were firing all around, and you didn't know what to do. You'd never been in a shoot-out before, and you felt panicked.

Spencer was beside you, hidden behind the car door as he fired some shots. You watched as an officer in front of you was shot.

You knew it was the worst idea to go out there, but the man could be alive. Your legs moved before you realized it, and you were attempting to drag the officer's body. Spencer and Alex both yelled for you, running out to grab you. Right as Alex grabbed your arm, Spencer pushed you closer to her, which was very out of character for him.

It was then you heard another bullet rip through skin.

The sound that came from Spencer was one you couldn't quite describe, but could never forget. Immediately, you noticed the blood seeping from his neck of all places.

"Spencer!" Your voice was broken and loud as you yelled, grabbing onto him. Derek made a jump, helping you and Alex move him behind the car again.

"No, no," Alex muttered, putting pressure on Spencer's neck. "Look at me, okay? Don't close your eyes,"

You sat behind her, shaking your head as tears freely flowed down your cheeks. "Oh my god, oh my god," You repeated, shock flooding your system.

"Ethan, look at me! Ethan!"

For a moment, you didn't realize who Blake was talking to, until you saw Spencer's shut eyes. "Spencer, Spencer wake up." You crawled over, shaking his shoulder. "Please, I need you, I need you with me forever. You're my best-- Alex, why is there so much blood?"

You helped Alex stop the bleeding, but it was so much. After what felt like years, the paramedics arrived. You and Alex fought to ride with him, and somehow, they let both of you. The woman held you to her side as she urged you to look away, but the sight of Spencer's dying body never left your eyes. Were you even blinking? Breathing? It didn't feel like it.

Spencer was rushed to surgery immediately. You didn't even get to say goodbye when you and Alex were sent to the waiting room. The two of you didn't speak for a while, until an hour or so later.

"Who's Ethan?"

Alex turned to you, "Ethan was my son."

"He passed?" You asked.

"When he was nine. I begged him to look at me." Alex bit her lip as you squeezed your eyes shut. "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

You reached for her hand, which she took. "I don't blame you." You admitted, looking over to her with teary eyes. "Do what your heart tells you to, Alex. Don't let us determine what you're happy doing."

Alex gave your hand a squeeze as the silence took over once more as you waited. Penelope sent word that she was on her way, and you hoped it would be soon. Her cheerful demeanor was what you needed.

Finally, the doctor came to tell you Spencer had narrowly avoided death. You felt a breath release, one you didn't know you were holding. The man lead you both to Spencer's room.

Your first thought was about how peaceful he looked. Then, the panic set in when you saw the IV in his arm. "What medications will he be given?" You quickly asked before the doctor could leave the room.

The doctor listed a couple of medications when one caught your attention, "...Gabapentin, Hydromorphone--"

"Stop, what are those? Opioids?" You questioned.

"Uh, yes. Both are in the dilaudid family--"

You shook your head, "He can't have those. He had a drug addiction to dilaudid. Give him something else."

The doctor gave you a hesitant look, "Agent, those are what we recommend--"

"I don't give a damn, what else can you give him?" You demanded, crossing your arms.

"Uh, Morphine would be the most basic and cover the most ground." The doctor sheepishly responded.

With an exasperated look, you said, "Then write that down. That's what he'll be getting. Monitor the doses, too. I don't want to risk a relapse. If you have any questions, I'm his second emergency contact. First is Aaron Hotchner, he can attest--"

"It's really alright, miss." The doctor said, slowly stepping back. "We took note. I'll see to it that it is followed."

The doctor left and Alex chuckled, "You scared him."

"Good," You replied, sitting down next to Spencer. Alex took the other side as you carefully took his hand. "It's my fault, you know."

Alex's brows furrowed, "What?"

"It's my fault he got shot." You repeated, pinching the bridge of your nose tightly as you squeezed your eyes shut. "I was to his right. He pushed me out of the way. My head is just where his shoulder is, and he bent down to push me. It was meant to be a headshot, Alex."

Softly, Alex grabbed your hand across Spencer's body. "Sweetheart, that doesn't make it your fault. You couldn't have controlled Spencer's actions."

With a sniffle, you tearfully looked up to Alex. "Alex, please be with him when he wakes up. He's my best friend, and I failed him. I- I just can't."

Alex wanted to argue you, to tell you that you were exactly what Spencer needed when he woke up, but she also took into account your needs, too. "Alright," she sighed. "But please, come back after to see him, alright?"

"Yeah," You nodded, biting your lip.

Remembering the moment Spencer got shot was like it was from another lifetime, even if it was just from a few mere hours ago. You remembered exactly what you did, but looking back, it felt like you replayed every moment you'd ever had with the genius. Every lingering touch, every time he made your heart swirl. You would've never gotten to kiss him, or tell him you liked him. It was too much for your heart to bare.

Penelope showed up later on, setting up some Doctor Who action figures for Spencer to see when he woke up. The sight of it made you sick. Knowing he would need to see something good when he opened his eyes was too much, too soon. You excused yourself, leaving the room in a hurry as you left the hospital.

For a while, you sat in the black SUV provided by the police. You just needed space, air to breathe. After some calming breaths, you decided to get Spencer some flowers to cheer up his dull room.

The florist was only fifteen minutes away, so that's where you headed. When you walked in, the woman behind the counter noticed who you were. Small towns talk.

"I don't know anything," She said with a sigh, "You'll find better luck--" Her voice paused when she saw the look in your eyes. "You ain't here to question me, are you?"

You cleared your throat, "My uh, partner-- teammate, he got shot. I wanted to just get him flowers, I guess. Maybe this is too weird," You'd muttered the last part to yourself, turning around to leave.

"No! No, wait." The woman called as you turned back around. "You like this teammate of yours?"

You nodded, "Yeah."

"You like him more than that?" She raised a brow.

With a hot face, you nodded. "I do."

"I always know. I got just the thing for you, sweetie. Just give me five minutes to prepare it." The woman rushed into the back, and you hesitantly took a seat in a small chair. After those five minutes, she came back out with a gorgeous pink floral arrangement. "Put this together especially for you."

Reaching for your wallet, you mustered the best smile you could. "Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?"

"No charge, sweetie." The woman held her hand up in denial. "You work a hard job. I'm a mother, I know the look of love and heartbreak on a young woman's face. You tell him how you feel, alright? That's the charge."

Your eyes watered as you took the flowers from her. "Thank you, ma'am. You're too kind."

"Says the girl getting the boy she loves flowers after he got hurt." The lady smiled back.

After driving back to the hospital, you hit the fourth floor button and took the grueling trip up. You realized you'd left your phone in the room. Hopefully nothing too important happened.

As you walked up to Spencer's room, you heard his voice, but it was filled with panic. "Garcia, he has a gun!"

Your body moved before your brain as you ran in, grabbing the first person you didn't know. The male nurse, who you assumed was not a nurse, threw you back against the wall as you took note of the gun in the back of his belt. You reached for it, but felt the bottom of it crash into your forehead. He'd gotten it before you had. As you fell to the floor, you heard Penelope shout for help when you saw Spencer's bag, the one that had his gun.

Right as the unsub turned around, you grabbed it and shot him right in the chest. He fell to the floor as you realized you'd been clutching the flowers. Laying down, you let them fall out of your grasp as Derek appeared, grabbing the unsub.

"Oh, my ray of sunshine!" Penelope yelled as she helped you up "You're bleeding! Let's get you a nurse- a real one."

As she pulled you out of the room, you'd just caught a glance at Spencer who was watching you leave with an unreadable expression on his face.

You sucked in a sharp breath of pain as the nurse finished stitching up your forehead. A good sized gash was left from the bottom of the gun, and your shoulder was already developing a bruise on the blade. “Sweets, are you sure you’re okay?” Penelope carefully asked, squeezing your hand as the nurse grabbed the rest of her tools and left you both alone in the small waiting area.

“Yeah, Pen. I’ll be okay.” You nodded. Playing with your fingers, you cleared your throat. “How’s Spencer?”

“He’s okay. Up and talking, the Morphine is doing him well. He’s not in too much pain.” Penelope replied, giving your hand another squeeze. “He was thankful it was Morphine.”

With a nod, you continued, “Was Alex with him when he woke up?”

“We both were,” Penelope bit her lip, “but he still asked for you.”

“I just couldn’t be there,” A sigh escaped your lips as you rubbed a hand over your cheek. “It should’ve—”

Penelope raised her eyebrows, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence. It shouldn’t have been anybody. This is not your fault, I won’t let you believe it.”

A throb emitted from your forehead, “When do we leave? I just want to go home.”

“Spencer’s being airlifted there. We leave right when he does, in about thirty minutes. JJ packed all your things and brought them to the jet for you.” Penelope softly smiled. You made a mental note to thank JJ for doing that for you. “You know you’re going to have to talk to him, right?”

“I don’t want to think about it, Pen.” You shook your head as much as the pain would allow. “I just want to go to sleep.”

Penelope nodded softly, taking your hand and guiding you to the car to go to the jet.

Two days later, and you were still at home in your apartment. Your forehead only got worst with a huge bruise around the stitches. That wasn’t to mention the pain radiating from your left shoulder, either. You felt so bad for not seeing Spencer while he was awake in the hospital, but even now, the thought made you sick to your stomach. Seeing him in pain, in the hospital gown, the beeping of the machines, it was all just too much to bear. It was worse knowing that should’ve been you.

You were sat in your sofa, a half-melted bag of peas on your forehead when you heard the doorbell ring. Slowly, you got up off the couch-- much to your dismay-- and approached the door, reaching for the knob and twisting it.

Spencer standing outside the door, holding a similar flower arrangement to the one you'd gotten him, was not what you expected.

"Reid," You softly said, his last name feeling odd on your tongue. He was never Reid to you. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see how you were doing. Morgan, uh, told me you got knocked around pretty good." Spencer eyed your forehead, making you feel like a tiny specimen under a microscope. You allowed your hair to fall over it, covering the large, disgusting mark.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "I'm alright." After a moment, you came to your senses, "Uh, come on in. Sorry if it's messy."

"I think I'll live," Spencer chuckled, making your blood run cold at his words. You lead him inside, and even if he'd been in your apartment a numerous amount of times, it felt different now.

Spencer sat on the other end of your sofa. You pressed yourself to the arm, giving plenty of space between the both of you. "Are you in pain?"

"No, not really." Spencer hummed as he pondered your question. "But swallowing sometimes feels different."

"Ah," You casually replied as you went to pick at your nails. You stopped yourself-- don't give Spencer any of your tells. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I wish you would've came to see me sooner." Spencer admitted. "I missed you. I thought you would've been there when I woke up."

Guilt crept into your gut as you replied, "I was out getting you flowers."

"For three hours?"

Spencer's comment clocked you. "Spencer," You rubbed your neck, head slinging down to stare at your lap. "I couldn't be there."

"Why?" Spencer breathlessly asked, his eyes pleading for an answer.

He felt so alone when he opened his eyes and you weren't there. Sure, Alex and Penelope both were, but he was searching for you the whole time. You were his rock, you had been for the last three years. Sure, at first he took a while to warm up to you. Two months, twenty-three days, seventeen hours, and sixteen minutes, to be precise. The moment you both connected, however, it was like you and Spencer were attached at the hip. You had always been there for him. Why weren't you there for him now? It tore down Spencer to know you weren't there, but he was also concerned for your well-being as well.

"That shot was meant for me, Spencer." Your voice was cold as you spoke, a small quiver when you said it was for yourself. "We both know that would've been a headshot."

"You're mad that I saved your life?" Spencer didn't want to become angry, but he did feel frustrated at your lack of understanding.

You huffed, standing up quickly, "I'm mad that you hurt yourself for me, Spencer! You almost died, what would I have done if you died?"

"Says you," Spencer retorted, a small look of bewilderment on his face. "I couldn't live with myself if you died."

The air was thick in the room as you paced while Spencer watched. "Oh, so getting yourself shot was the answer. You scared Alex half to death, and I've never seen Derek cry before this! Don't even mention JJ going dead silent on us."

"Is this about them, or is this about us?" Spencer questioned, crossing his arms.

"This is about-- agh!" As you threw your arms out in distress, pain radiated through your shoulder blade. Your face scrunched in pain as Spencer quickly jolted to your side.

He softly took your arm, "Hey, hey. Let's just sit down, okay? Do you need more ice? Or, a better ice pack?" Spencer helped you sit down, and he grabbed your ankles to pop them up on the small ottoman in front of the couch.

"Better one would be nice," you muttered. "M' still mad at you."

"That's okay," Spencer's voice became more distant as he walked into your kitchen. "I guess I'd be mad, too. If I was in your situation, I mean."

You hummed, "Damn right."

Spencer chuckled as he made his way back into the living room. He gently pushed your hair out of your face, cringing at the huge bruise. You held onto the ice bag as he helped you sit forward. He could see the bruise that made its way up from your shoulder blade. It fell just above the hemline of your shirt, and the mere size made him sigh softly. "He really got you, huh?"

"He was Derek sized," you chuckled bitterly. "Plus, I was trying to save your flowers."

"Well, the vase was broken, but I kept the flowers." Spencer softly laughed beside you.

Your eyes twinkled as you looked to him, "You did?"

"Of course I did," Spencer nodded, "It was the sweetest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Wow," Your tone was joking as you continued, "That's a really low bar. Gotta raise it, somehow."

Spencer softly took your hand in his. Every time he touched you, it reminded you of how much he trusted and cared for you; so much so that he allowed physical intimacy with you.

"I couldn't see you like that," You whispered, just loud enough for Spencer to hear. "It hurt me so much, to know I couldn't help you more. I-I couldn't- I-"

Shushes softly spewed from Spencer's mouth. "Hey, it's okay." He soothed, rubbing circles over your knuckles with his thumb. "I'm not mad at you. I was just sad you weren't there, but I understand."

"I can't live without you, Spencer Reid." You admitted, locking eyes with him.

Spencer softly spoke your name, and you noticed how his eyes flicked from your eyes, to your lips, and back to your eyes. "I can't live without you, either." Spencer echoed, another hand softly meeting your cheek. "Please tell me if I'm reading this wrong."

"You're not," you whispered. "promise."

You both sat there for a moment, reeling in each other's presences, your life forces. Finally, the tension got to be too strong. You leaned yourself closer to Spencer, ghosting your lips over his slightly-chapped ones. You gave him a moment to back out, to tell you that you read it wrong--

and he kissed you.

It wasn't a hard, fiery kiss. It was one that was soft, sweet, like a shining body of water, or the sound of laughter. His lips molded into yours like a missing puzzle piece. Spencer's hands moved to hold your face so strongly, yet so gentle like he was afraid to drop one of Rossi's expensive china pieces.

As you pulled back, Spencer's breath softly hit your face, a peppermint smell softly brushing your lips. "Is that why you were so upset?" Spencer breathlessly asked.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I think so."

"You think?" Spencer half-smiled.

"I think so." You pondered for a moment. "Wanna prove me right?"

Spencer chuckled, pushing his nose to nose your own. "More than anything."

Your lips collided again, but you pulled back with confusion. “How did you know I liked you?”

“Pink flowers,” Spencer scratched the back of his neck, “They’re known for symbolizing crushes, romantic feelings. Your whole arrangement was all pink tulips, roses, carnations.” You eyed Spencer’s for you— it was all pink. “I guess your florist knew better than you did.”

You chuckled, “I guess she did. I like yours, too.” Spencer’s eyes fell to his bouquet and he blushed. “Oh, don’t get shy on me now, kiss me again you sweet genius boy.”

Spencer smiled, happily leaning in for another kiss.

It was then you realized why you were so upset before; you couldn't lose your home.

[awritessomething]

I have absolutely no ideas for writing whatsoever pleaseplease leave requests!!! Smut, angst, fluff, whatever y’all want I can probably do.

Ill write for these people and probably more that I forgot (all male character x fem!reader) :

Formula 1:

Max Verstappen

Oscar Piastri

Charles Leclerc

Lewis Hamilton

Carlos Sainz

Daniel Riccardo

Mick Schumacher

Franco Colapinto

Liam Lawson

Ollie Bearman

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes

Tony Stark

Thor

Deadpool

Steve Rogers

Spiderman (Tom Holland, Andrew Garfield, Miguel O'hara)

Harry Osborn (James Franco)

Wolverine (X-Men movies)

Cyclops (X-Men movies)

Charles Xavier (James McAvoy)

Call of Duty

Keegan Russ

Simon "Ghost" Riley

König

Phillip Graves

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Outer Banks: (pls no spoilers s4 hasnt been watched yet)

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

Topper Thornton

John B. Routledge

Ward Cameron

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Cedric Diggory

Draco malfoy

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

Blaise Zabini

Regulus Black

Severus Snape

Tom Riddle

Sirius Black

Lorenzo Berkshire

Oliver Wood

The Walking Dead:

Glenn Rhee

Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Negan Smith

Sports:

Joao Felix

Jude Bellingham

Brock Purdy

Joe Burrow

Leon Draisaitl

Jack Hughes

Vince Dunn

Mitch Marner

Connor Bedard

Wayne Gretzky (young)

Miscallaneous:

Jack Champion (Ethan Landry)

Patrick Bateman

Batman (Christian Bale)

Johnathan Crane

Finnick Odair

Josh Hutcherson (Peeta Mellark, Mike Schmidt, Sean Anderson, Clapton Davis)

Rodrick Heffley

Tristan Dugray

Dylan O'brien

Bellamy Blake

Patrick Dempsey (Derek Shepherd, Ronald Miller)

Joe Goldberg

Timothee Chalamet (Wonka, Paul Atreides)

Minho (The Maze Runner)

Keanu Reeves (John Wick, Neo, Alex Wyler, Dr. Beckham, Julian Mercer, Ted Logan)

Jim Halpert

Farkas/Vilkas

Ulfric Stormcloak

Miraak

Ben Schnetzer (Max Vandenburg, Brad Land, Russ Sheppard)

Ralph Macchio (Daniel Larusso, Johnny Cade)

Dallas Winston

Sodapop Curtis

Robby Keene

Zuko (atla dallas liu)

Jet (atla sebastian amoruso)

Cillian Murphy (Johnathan crane, jackson rippner, Neil Lewis)

Evan Peters (all ahs characters, Luke cooper)

James Franco (Laird Mayhew, Harry Osborn, all characters)

What I wont do:

Pedophilia

Beastiality or anything animal-y

Waterworks

Male reader (sorry)

Character x character

Threesomes or anything not 1x1

Character x oc

Specific body types (i just don’t see the point)

Daddy/mommy kinks

Incest or stepcest

(I’ll prob have to add on but its midnight rn)

[spaceagebachelormann]

𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔!

HOW TO REQUEST

— state the character, romantic or platonic, the format of the request, and what you want with it

— do you have any specifics for the reader? male, female, blonde, poc, etc?

— requests can be send through inbox or dms, but inbox is heavily encouraged!

— PLEASE ACTUALLY SPECIFY WHAT YOU WANT WITH YOUR REQUEST!! ITS VERY HARD FOT ME TO WRITE SOMETHING THAT JUST SAYS “_____ x reader fluff” WITH NO FURTHER EXPLANATION!! GIVE ME A PLOT LINE!!

WHAT I WILL WRITE:

platonic

romantic

familial

any gender x any gender

headcanons

poly relationships

sensitive topics

x reader

ships (canon or non-canon, so long as it’s not problematic)

i. i WILL write cheating, but not if a character is going it to the reader/another character. i’ll make someone comforting another person after being cheated on, but i won’t write finnick odair cheating on someone

same thing ^^ goes for homophobic, transphobic, ableist topics like that, and. well i guess the same goes for abuse?

WHAT I WONT WRITE:

smut (i’m 14)

yandere

incest

student x teacher

canonically gay character (ex: wylan van eck) x fem!reader for romantic requests

canonically lesbian character x male!reader for romantic requests

songfics (nothing against them, i just don’t know how!!)

things about ocs

ship fics

character list (more to come!)

❍ = easiest characters to write for

bolded — favourite characters to write for

KEEPER OF THE LOST CITIES

❍ sophie foster, ❍ dex dizznee, fitz vacker, ❍ keefe sencen, ❍ biana vacker, ❍ marellla redek, ❍ maruca chebota, tam song, linh song, ❍ wylie endal, ❍ jensi babblos, stina heks

CHRONICLES OF NARNIA

❍ peter pevensie, ❍ edmund pevensie, ❍ susan pevensie, ❍ lucy pevensie, mr tumnus, ❍ caspian, eustace scrubb, jill pole, shasta, aravis

RIORDANVERSE

❍ percy jackson, ❍ annabeth chase, ❍ grover underwood, ❍ jason grace, ❍ piper mclean, ❍ leo valdez, ❍ hazel levesque, ❍ frank zhang, nico di angelo, will solace, reyna arellano, rachel dare, ❍ travis stoll, ❍ connor stoll, thalia grace, magnus chase, ❍ alex fierro, carter kane, sadie kane, lester papadopolous, lavinia asimov

PHANTOM OF THE OPERA

❍ christine daaé, ❍ raoul de chagny, erik destler, ❍ meg giry

p.s. i’ll write for the movie, musical, book and 1990 miniseries versions!!

HARRY POTTER

harry potter, ❍ hermione granger, ❍ ron weasley, ❍ luna lovegood, ❍ neville longbottom, ginny weasley, fred weasley, george weasley, ❍ sirius black, remus lupin, ❍ james potter, ❍ marlene mckinnon, mary macdonald, dorcas meadowes, lily evans

RIDE THE CYCLONE

ocean o’connell rosenberg, ❍ noel gruber, ❍ mischa bachinski, ❍ ricky potts, jane doe, penny lamb, ❍ constance blackwood

SHADOW AND BONE

❍ alina starkov, malyen oretsev, ❍ genya safin, ❍ zoya nazyalensky, david kostyk, erm others i accidentally deleted remind me to update this

SIX OF CROWS

kaz brekker, inej ghafa, ❍ jesper fahey, ❍ wylan van eck, nina zenik, matthias helvar

THE OUTSIDERS

ponyboy curtis, ❍ johnny cade, sodapop curtis, darry curtis, steve randall, ❍ twobit matthews, ❍ dallas winston

THE HUNGER GAMES

katniss everdeen, peeta mellark, ❍ finnick odair, ❍ johanna mason, marvel sanford, clove kentwell, cato hadley, ❍ cinna

IT (2017)

bill denbrough, eddie kaspbrak, richie tozier, ❍ stan uris, beverly marsh, ben hanscom, ❍ mike hanlon

THE SCHOOL FOR GOOD AND EVIL

❍ agatha of woods beyond, ❍ sophie of woods beyond, tedros of camelot, ❍ hort of bloodbrook, ❍ hester of ravenswood, ❍ anadil, ❍ dot, nicola, aric, rhian mistral, rafal mistral, leonora lesso, clarissa dovey

THE LAND OF STORIES

❍ alex bailey, ❍ connor bailey, ❍ red riding hood, ❍ jack, ❍ goldilocks, ❍ bree campbell

SCOOBY DOO

daphne blake, ❍ fred jones, shaggy rogers, velma dinkley

LITTLE WOMEN

❍ jo march, amy march, beth march, meg march, ❍ laurie

A GOOD GIRLS GUIDE TO MURDER

pippa fitz-amobi, ❍ ravi singh, naomi ward, ❍ cara ward, connor reynolds, ❍ jamie reynolds, nat da silva

THE MIGHTY DUCKS

❍ charlie conway, adam banks, ❍ lester averman, guy germaine, ❍ connie moreau, julie gaffney, ❍ ken wu, dean portman, luis mendoza, dwayne robertson, ❍ fulton reed

DRACULA

dracula, ❍ lucy westenra, mina harker, arthur holmwood, ❍ renfield, dr seward, abraham van helsing, ❍ quincey morris

FRANKENSTEIN

victor frankenstein, ❍ adam frankenstein, elizabeth lavenza, justine moritz, ernest frankenstein, henry clerval, the bride

DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE

henry jekyll, ❍ edward hyde, ❍ richard enfield, gabriel utterson, hastie lanyon, lucy harris

MONSTER HIGH

gotta update this one guys,,,

THE BREAKFAST CLUB

john bender , ❍ claire standish, allison reynolds, brian johnson, andrew clark

THE POWERPUFF GIRLS

❍ blossom utonium, bubbles utonium, buttercup utonium , ❍ brick jojo, boomer jojo, butch jojo

DAVID BOWIE

❍ jareth, thomas jerome newton, david bowie

SWEENEY TODD

❍ sweeney, anthony hope, ❍ mrs lovett, johanna

THE ROSEWOOD CHRONICLES

lottie pumpkin, ellie wolf, ❍ jamie volk, ❍ ollie moreno, ❍ raphael wilcox, ❍ anastacia alcroft leblanc, saskia san martin, lola tomkins, mickey tomkins, binah fae

HAIRSPRAY

❍ corny collins, ❍ seaweed j stubbs, amber von tussle, tracy turnblad, penny pingleton, link larkin

MISC. CHARACTERS

sarah williams, ❍ bernard the elf, ❍ rodrick heffley, ❍ varian

[wipbigbang]

WIPBB 2023 - Fic & Art Master List (# - L)

Below is the master list of all the bragging rights/posts that were posted to Tumblr and Dreamwidth, organized alphabetically by fandom from numbers to L. Please go show these people some love for all the hard work they did!

9-1-1

Beyond Appearances: Art (Evan Buckley/Sophia Diaz)

When You Say My Name: Fic | Art Post 1 | Art Post 2 (Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz)

A Song Of Ice and Fire/Game Of Thrones

Watch the world burn; i set it all alight for you: Fic/Art (Jon Snow/Daenerys Targarean)

Angel: the Series/Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Deep Dark Sky: Fic (Connor/Dawn Summers)

Bungou Stray Dogs

half-time soulmate, full-time problem (so hold me like a grudge): Fic | Art (Nakahara Chuuya/Dazai Osamu)

Chalion Saga/World of the Five Gods

Penric's Last Ride: Fic | Art (Penric, Desdemona, the Bastard)

Criminal Minds

Half Broke Horses: Fic (Art On AO3) (Alex Blake/Emily Prentiss)

DC Comics

Batman

Fatherhood: Fic | Art (Implied Bruce Wayne/Jim Gordon)

right place, wrong time: Fic | Art (Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne)

Batman/Green Arrow

Grains of the Golden Sand: Fic (Dick Grayson/Roy Harper)

DC Comics (Batman)/Prodigal Son

9 Crimes: Fic | Art (Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Malcolm Bright, Gil Arroyo, Jessica Whitly, Jim Gordon, Harvey Bullock, Alfred Pennyworth, The Joker, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson)

Dead Poets Society

Spotlight: Fic (Chris Noel/Ginny Danburry)

Disney

Disney's Descendants

And I won’t lie down, roll over, and die: Fic (Gil/Harry Hook/Uma)

Nothing in this world by myself to protect me: Fic (Jay/Carlos De Vil, Evie/Mal, Evie/Jay, Evie/Carlos de Vil, Evie/Jay/Mal/Carlos de Vil, Ben/Mal, Ben/Jay, Jay/Mal, Mal/Carlos de Vil, Ben/Evie)

Disney Fairies

Death at the Hollow: Fic/Art (Fawn/Nyx)

Encanto

A Single Thread of The Tapestry: Fic | Art (Camilo & Mirabel, Camilo & Mirabel & Mariano, Mirabel & Camilo & Madrigal family)

How do you know what your life is worth: Fic | Art (Camilo & Mirabel, Mirabel & Pepa, Isabela & Pepa, Isabela & Luisa, Luisa & Abuela & Bruno, Bruno & Camilo, Félix & Julieta, Agustín & Dolores, Félix/Pepa, Agustín/Julieta)

Doctor Who/The Picture of Dorian Gray/Torchwood

Passing Through: Art (Dorian Gray/Jack Harkness)

Dracula/Jane Eyre/Sherlock Holmes (ACD Canon)

A Field of Thorns: Fic (Sherlock Holmes/Dracula)

Dragon Age II

Kindling: Fic | Art (Fem!Hawke/Fenris)

Set Yourself On Fire: Fic | Art (Marian & Garrett, Marian & Carver, Marian & Varric, Referenced Fenris/F!Hawke and Anders/M!Hawke)

ER (NBC)

Touch and Go: Fic | Art (Abby Lockhart/Kerry Weaver)

Final Fantasy IV/Final Fantasy VI/Final Fantasy IX/Final Fantasy X

Magical Girl Rydia - Summon the Four Warriors of Light!: Fic On Dreamwidth | Fic On Tumblr (Rydia/Yuna)

Generation Kill

Bradley the Damned: Fic/Art (Brad Colbert/Nate Fick, Walt Hasser/Ray Person)

Good Omens (TV)

The Rain We Thought Would Last Forever and Ever (Remix): Fic (Art On AO3) (Aziraphale/Crowley)

Harry Potter

Black House Will Rock: Art (Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Lestrange)

Repertum: Fic/Art (Harry Potter/Severus Snape)

Harry Potter/CSI/Hocus Pocus

And now you're mine: Fic (Harry Potter/Greg Sanders)

Harry Potter/DC Comics (Batman)

Reflection: Fic/Art (Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Rubeus Hagrid, Original Characters)

It (2017/2019)

faraway look: Fic (Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon)

Jak And Daxter

alien lands (overflowing with dust): Fic/Art (Jak/Daxter, Jak/Sig, past Damas/Sig)

The Red Prison: Fic/Art (Errol/Torn, Jak/Ashelin)

Jane Austen/Temeraire (Naomi Novik)

To the Rigor of Service: Fic/Art (Elizabeth Bennet & Charlotte Lucas, pre-Anne Elliot/Frederick Wentworth)

Jujutsu Kaisen

Phantom Origins: Fic | Art (Itadori Yuuji/Yoshino Junpei, Yoshino Junpei & Yoshino Nagi, Fushiguro Megumi & Kugisaki Nobara, Fushiguro Megumi & Kugisaki Nobara & Yoshino Junpei, Iguchi Takeshi & Itadori Yuuji & Sasaki Setsuko)

Knives Out

No Charm Equal: Fic (Benoit Blanc/Marta Cabrera)

Kuroko no Basuke

Three Little Words: Fic (Kasamatsu Yukio/Kise Ryouta)

Last Binding Series (Freya Marske)

The New Blyth Traditions: Fic (Robin Blyth & Maud Blyth, Robin Blyth/Edwin Courcey, Maud Blyth/Violet Debenham)

League of Legends: Arcane

bring me java, bring me joy: Fic | Art (Caitlyn Kiramman/Vi)

Lord of the Rings (Book)

both the sweet and the bitter: Fic On Dreamwidth | Fic On Tumblr (Arwen Undómiel, Elrond Peredhel, Bilbo Baggins, Original Characters)

[ghost-king-kai]

The Requesting Hall Guidelines

Welcome to the request guidelines! Here you can be informed of my dos & don'ts, characters & fandoms available, and rules in The Requesting Hall.

Please review (or at least skim through) these rules prior to sending a request to the hall.

Request Rules

Be sure to keep asks and requests respectful.

Make sure the request is detailed enough for me to write for.

Anons are welcome! (if you'd like a specific designation, feel free to ask)

The Dos & Don'ts

These are the types of requests I do and don't do.

I Do...

x Male!Reader

x GN!Reader

x Transmasc!Reader

x NB!Reader

Fluff Fics

Angst Fics (Heavily dependent on the topics)

Platonic Fics (Familial, Teammates, Colleagues, Crewmates, Etc.)

Character Concepts for Reader (As long as the idea is feasible)

Oc Requests & Asks

I Don't Do...

x Fem!Reader

x Transfem!Reader

NSFW/Smut (Besides implications)

Triggering Topics (Sexual Assault, Rape, Abuse, Self Harm, etc.)

Fetish Requests

Character Ships

Characters Available For Requests

The listed characters and fandoms are the ones I am usually inspired to write on the regular or as of right now but that doesn't mean you can't ask if I write for a specific fandom or character that isn't on this list, especially if it's from the list in the Kingdom Directory.

Marvel

Specify Timeframe

Available for Romantic Requests: Peter Parker (Only Tom & Andrew Portrayals)

Platonic Only: The Avengers (Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, Clint Barton, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker, The Vision) [All Together & Individually] The Marvels (Carol Danvers, Monica Rambeau, Kamala Khan) [All Together & Individually] Etc. (there are literally so many characters-)

DC

Specify Adaptation & Timeframe (I mostly do DCAU & Young Justice, though)

Platonic Only: The Bat Family (Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown) [All Together & Individually] Jon Kent (Supersons Comics Series Version) The Team (Dick Grayson, Wally West, Kaldur'ahm, Artemis Crock, M'gann M'orzz, Connor Kent) (Young Justice TV Series) [All Together & Individually]

Persona 5

Specify Timeframe

Available for Romantic Requests: Ren Amamiya

Platonic Only: The Phantom Thieves (Ren Amamiya, Morgana, Ryuji Sakamoto, Ann Takamaki, Yusuke Kitagawa, Makoto Nijima, Futaba Sakura, Haru Okumura) [All Together] Futaba Sakura Zenkichi Hasegawa Goro Akechi Sophia

Criminal Minds

Specify Timeframe

Platonic Only: The B.AU. Team (Aaron Hotchner, Jason Gideon, David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Alex Blake, Luke Alves, Tara Lewis) [All Together & Individually]

Star Trek

Specify Timeframe

Strange New Worlds

Platonic Only: The Crew (Christopher Pike, Una Chin-Riley, Hemmer/Pelia, Joseph M'Benga, Christine Chapel, Erica Ortegas, Nyota Uhura, Jenna Mitchell, Spock, La'an Noonien-Singh, George Samuel Kirk) [All Together & Individually] James T. Kirk

Discovery

Platonic Only: The Crew (Michael Burnham, Saru, Sylvia Tilly, Adira Tal, Keyla Detmer, R. A. Bryce, Joann Owosekun, Hugh Culber, Gen Rhys, Paul Stamets, Jett Reno) [All Together & Individually] Cleveland Booker

Kelvin Timeline

Platonic Only: The Crew (James T. Kirk, Spock, Montgomery Scott, Keenser, Pavel Chekov, Hikaru Sulu, Leonard McCoy, Nyota Uhura) [All Together & Individually]

Resident Evil

Specify Timeframe & Version

Available for Romantic Requests: Leon S. Kennedy

Fair Warning: Fandoms and characters will be added and removed a lot over time. Apologies in advance if a character or fandom you would like to request disappears overnight. Inspiration comes and goes and this section just reflects what and who I am gladly willing to write for at the time.

[storiesofsvu]

1, 11, 16 and 20 for get to know you fic writes asks <3

1- do you prefer writing one shots of multi-chapterfics?

mainly series! you can play around with characters more, delve into the feelings, complications, you can include multiple themes or stick to just one. i like working on the plot, it gets my brain working better. i enjoy one shots for things like bingos, writing new characters or shows, and obvi fix it fics. and any requests i get i like to expand on peoples ideas/req's.

11. link your 3 fave fics right now.

ooo... okay... two that i cant stop rereading & some shamless self promotion of one of my fave series

16. how many fic ideas are you nuturing right now? share one of them?

oh good god.... i think around 17 that are either currently in the midst of being written, or on the bingo card.

and a whopping 25 series ideas. some of which i will definitely write and some that when i just looked at them now i went "eehhhh" so i probs wont be writing all of them LOL.

One idea that i'm excited for and do plan on doing relatively soon is Rita Calhoun meets a make up artist through a client that she takes a liking to, they end up on a first date, rita's smitten, but yn's worried that she has a deal breaker considering rita gives off the no kids vibes and she has a young daughter at home. Rita's willing to give it a chance because she's so smitten, and just cutesy fluff and chaos ensues.

20. have you noticed any patterns in your fics? words/expressions that appear a lot? etc?

YUP lol. I LOVE a good trope of what you think is gonna be a one night stand with a stranger but the next morning you walk in to find out you now work with them/they're the child of your boss/they're your besties sister/etc, etc/

There's also tons of words/phrasing, especially with smut recently that ive been noticing are go to's for me.

Thanks for asking! ☺️💕

[fortheloveofwonderland]

hey!! could i request a milestone fic for spencer x reader (fem or gn) with ☁️💕🌲 and then side character 📕 please? thank you so much! your writing is so compelling and always makes me happy!

Thank you so much Angel! I am a secret sucker for a soulmate AU and this was super fun! Also I adore Alex Blake. Don’t let the title fool you, this is just silly and fluffy all round. Set during 9.23 Angels.

Send me emojis for my milestone celebration and I’ll write you a blurb.

☁️ fluff

💕 soulmate au

🌲mutual pining

📕Alex Blake

Summary - in a world where soulmates feel each other’s pain, it takes Spencer getting shot for you both to realise you were in love with your soulmate all along.

CW - light angst, mostly fluff. Gun shots, vague mentions of past drug addiction, canon typical violence, mild swears.

WC - 1.7k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let it Hurt

Not my gif

You couldn’t help but think your soulmate was one incredibly unlucky guy.

You’d never met him but you couldn’t help but wonder what this poor man did with his life that got him hurt so often.

Everyone felt a degree of pain when their soulmate was injured. It manifested in a dull throb in whatever part of their body they had hurt. You never knew how thankful you’d be for the pain level not being mirrored.

You occasionally stubbed your toe or slipped with the knife when cooking, all innocuous enough not to perturb your soulmate too much.

But over the years your soulmate must have taken some hard knocks, it was way too often you found yourself aching due to whatever activity he’d been up to.

Sometimes it was clear what was going on. When you were a kid your body would often be flooded with aches, one in your arm followed by one in your ribs and then another in the ribs and then your leg.

It was quite obvious after a while that your soulmate was regularly getting beaten up.

There was a time when you were woken in the night by an ache confined to the crook of your arm. Over the coming months the same pain came and went sporadically.

Your soulmate was a drug addict. Super.

Eventually it subsided and it had been years since you’d felt the pain there. At least you could hope that meant he’d gotten clean.

Then there was the sharp burst of pain in your knee one day. It has continued throbbing softly for weeks and still aches a little from time to time.

There had been months worth of muted pain in your head that came and went in waves.

There were a series of other injuries sustained by your soulmate over the years that caused you to wonder what the hell this man did to get hurt so much.

Soulmates were a natural part of the world you lived in. It was unheard of that people ended up with someone who wasn’t their pre-assigned life partner.

But when you joined the BAU and met Doctor Spencer Reid, it had been impossible for you not to fall for him.

Soulmates be damned, Spencer was beautiful and smart and so kind. You knew it was wrong to feel this way about someone who wasn’t your soulmate but he made it impossible not to fall for him.

And unbeknownst to you, he felt the same.

The moment he’d laid eyes on you when Hotch introduced you to the team he was smitten. You’d been brought on at Blake’s insistence.

You were a student of hers at Georgetown while you worked through the academy and were incredibly intelligent. When Hotch had been recruiting for a new agent Blake had been adamant he at least meet with you.

And the rest was history. You joined the team fresh out of the academy and slotted right in with the team. You also slotted right into Spencer’s heart.

But he couldn’t have these feelings about you because you weren’t his soulmate. He didn’t know anyone who had ever gone against the grain and fallen for someone other than the person the universe had assigned them.

It was unthinkable, unheard of. So he had to try and put those feelings aside and pretend he wasn’t so inconceivably in love with you.

It was easier said than done.

You were magnetic, drawing him in without even trying.

He knew his team was aware of his feelings towards you, Spencer wasn’t known for his subtlety. He hung off your every word, smiling ear to ear every time you entered a room.

Blake told him to go for it, screw soulmates Spencer, but he feared some kind of cosmic retribution if he went against the order of things.

Spencer didn’t like to rock the boat and he had no idea what would happen if he were to give into his love for you and disobey the universe.

For almost a year he carried his feelings for you and you for him, quietly pining for someone you could never have.

And then Spencer was shot.

Everything moved in slow motion as the bullets rained down on you, the team and the local law enforcement.

It was the first time you’d been involved in such a situation and the fear pulsed through your entire body as you fired back, just praying to stay alive.

When a shot was fired in the direction of Blake, your whole world felt like it froze on its axis. She was your mentor, she was like a mother to you. You tried to move but you were stuck watching in fear.

And then Spencer appeared out of nowhere, leaping in front of the bullet and shoving Blake out of harm's way.

The bullet penetrated his neck and he fell crumpled to the ground, bleeding profusely.

Morgan pulled him out of harm's way behind a police cruiser before maintaining his position and continuing to fire.

You and Alex were at his side, both panicked as Alex tried to stop the bleeding.

You were so full of terror that Spencer was going to die you didn’t realise your own pain in your neck.

“Are you ok?” Blake looked up at you as the gunfire started to even out and you heard the rest of the team rushing forward to make arrests.

“Huh?” You subconsciously pressed your fingers against your neck as the pain swelled beneath the surface.

“Did you get hit too?” She looked from you to Spencer who’s eyes were rolling back in his head. “Stay with me! Stay with me!”

You crouched down next to them, stroking Spencer’s hair back from his face.

“It’s ok, Spence. You’re going to be ok. Just keep breathing.”

His eyes fluttered and landed on you where you were still gripping your own neck.

A look of understanding passed behind his eyes before they closed completely and he lost consciousness.

***

Blake smiled sadly at you as she handed you coffee from the hospital vending machine.

Spencer was in surgery and you were so terrified you might never see him again. You were so scared you forgot all about your own pain, but still subliminally pressing your fingers against your neck.

“Does it hurt?” Blake asked you softly, sipping her own coffee.

“What?” You frowned at her through glossy eyes.

“Your neck. You’ve been pressing against it since Spencer was shot.”

It was only when Blake said it out loud that you registered the ache coursing through your neck.

Your eyes widened at the implication, fingers flying away from your skin like you’d been burnt.

“I-I…oh my god.” You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry.

Blake gave you one of her smiles that always seemed all knowing.

“You know I had my suspicions.” She mused. “A few months ago Spencer cried out in pain for absolutely no reason. It was the same day you burnt your hand on the coffee maker.”

“No…it can’t…he can’t be…”

“You don’t want him to be your soulmate?” Blake chuckled lightly. “Isn’t this the best outcome? We all know you’re both in love with each other.”

Your cheeks burnt in embarrassment and you held your neck again and as another throb passed through it.

“The fact that I can still feel this pain means he’s ok right? If he…if he died during surgery…I wouldn’t feel it anymore, right?” A few tears escaped your eyes.

“Right.” Alex smiled at you, putting her coffee down and taking hold of your free hand. “He's going to be just fine, I’m sure of it, Y/N.”

“I hope so.” You sniffed loudly. “I can’t believe I’m in love with my soulmate.”

Alex squeezed your hand tightly with another soft smile.

As long as you could still feel the pain, Spencer was alive. You’d never been so thankful to be hurt.

***

The pain throbbed wildly as you cautiously pushed the door to his room open.

The lights were out as he was supposed to be resting but you just needed to see him.

His neck was bandaged and he was hooked up to an IV, you’d felt the prick of the needle earlier.

You shuffled over to the chair next to his bed and sank down into it.

When you looked up at him, his eyes were open, looking right back at you.

“Hey,” he croaked, a sleepy smile on his lips.

“Hey, you.” You felt your heart practically explode. “How are you?”

“Considering I got shot in the neck, I don’t feel too bad.” He sighed. “How are you?”

“Me? I’m fine.” You laughed it off, thinking now was not the best time to tell Spencer of your discovery.

There would be time. Just not right now.

“Why are you holding your neck then?” He gave you that same look he’d given you moments before his eyes had fallen shut earlier.

He knew. He’d seen it. He fucking knew.

“Someone got shot in the neck and mine has hurt ever since.” You shrugged, sitting forward so you could brush his hair out of his face.

“Surgery must have been a bitch for you.” Spencer chuckled a little awkwardly.

“It was manageable.”

He caught your hand in his and held it tightly. His skin was freezing.

“So, soulmates huh?” He entwined his fingers with yours.

“It would seem so.”

“This whole time I’ve tried to repress my feelings for you because it was so wrong of me to be in love with someone who wasn’t my soulmate.” He smiled, his eyes glossing over.

You thought you’d cried all of your tears while Spencer was in surgery but they came back thick and fast.

“You…you’re…”

“Yes Y/N, I am in love with you. I’m in love with my soulmate.” He chuckled, pulling you to your feet.

His free hand cupped the back of your neck as you leant over his bed, tears streaming from your eyes.

“And I’m in love with mine.” You whispered, bringing a huge smile to Spencer’s face.

“That’s good, that could have been pretty awkward otherwise.” He chuckled, pulling you closer and crashing your lips together.

And all at once both of your pain ceased to exist, a kiss between soulmates enough to eradicate any hurt you felt.

Two hearts became one in a single kiss as the universe's tangled plan unfurled.

Pain was fleeting. True love was boundless.

[wowitsel]

meeting the team

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

masterlist

Summary: You and Spencer have a big age gap, and when you meet the team, they have some things to say.

Fem! Reader

Word count: 1.5k

WARNINGS: age gap relationship (13 years), arguing

Category: angst to fluff

As you close the clasp on your necklace, you’re finally all dressed and ready for dinner with your boyfriend’s infamous team. You and Spencer had been dating for 7 months, although both of you had been very hesitant to let each other meet the important people in each other's lives, because of the obvious age difference between the two of you. With him being 33, and you being 20, there was bound to be some judgment from some people. Because everything went relatively smooth with your friends and family, you were feeling pretty confident heading into this dinner.

As you walk out of your shared room, you see Spencer standing near the front door, holding the car keys in his hand. He silently hands them to you while he says, “Can you drive? Please bub?”

“Fine, but you owe me. You know you're not the only one who hates driving.” You replied as you kiss him on the cheek and rush out the door.

“Well then, thank you, sweetie. Now hurry! We’re going to be late!” He tells you.

You chuckle at him, get in your car, shut the door, then start driving.

+++

You finally arrive at Rossi’s “mansion”, a whole five minutes late. You were not fazed by this, but it was safe to say that Spencer was. You moseyed out of the car, not in any rush, but then he nearly shouted, “C’mon! We’re already late Y/n!”

“Hey, calm down Spence. I’m sure we’re not the only ones late.” You said to him, but it was safe to say that you were very wrong.

+++

When the two of you walked in the door, you saw all the people that Spence had told you about, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Jennifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, and Alex Blake. All the eyes were on you.  And you knew exactly why. Your age gap wasn't exactly a secret, seeing as you looked around your own age, but you had assumed that Spencer had told them about it.

“Welcome, Reid! And umm…” David Rossi said as he struggled for a name.

“Uh, It 's Y/n.” You said awkwardly as you went to go sit down at the table.

“Well I’m David Rossi, It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, I know… Spencer told me all about you guys.”

You could cut the tension with a knife, but nevertheless, JJ propositioned you and Spence, “So, Spence, Y/n, do you two want some wine?”

When Spencer declined, everyone was quick to comfort him, remembering his past with addiction, but then you had to decline: “Umm no thanks. I’m underage”.

“Don’t you think you’re too young for Reid?” Morgan inquires.

“You can’t even drink yet. Are you sure you should be dating him?” Hotch asks.

“Shouldn’t he be with someone closer to his own age?” JJ questions.

Feeling a bit overwhelmed with all the questions, you burst out, saying, “Hey! I’m 20, not 16, I'm plenty mature, and I’m not some teenager who will always act irrationally.”

“Actually babe, the prefrontal cortex, which deals with emotional reactions, isn’t fully developed until 25-” Spencer stops when he sees the look on your face.

There is an overwhelming silence that ensues until Blake decides to break the ice, and try and diffuse the tension: “So, Y/n, where do you go to college?” Assuming that you went to college because of your age.

“Actually I didn’t go to college.” You reply.

You take a deep breath, and then begin to go on a long rant about the elephant in the room: “Listen, I can hear what’s going on inside all your guys’ heads right now. And I get it. You’re thinking, ‘How wrong could this girl be for Spencer Reid? She’s 13 years younger than him, and doesn’t have any fancy degrees.’ And you're right about all those differences. But you’re wrong about me being wrong for him. Yeah, I may only have a high school degree, but I’m smart enough to know what Spence needs, and It’s me, and I also know what I need, and It’s him. So think what you want about our age gap, but we love each other, and nothing you do, can stop that.”

The room seemed like a sauna, seeing as you were fuming, steaming with anger. You quickly pushed your chair back, and stormed out of the room, heading to your car. You knew you were being childish, and overdramatic, but you couldn't help yourself. You knew that you were just proving their point, but that didn’t change anything. You just sat there and sulked in the car, until you heard the door open.

Spencer came and sat down in the car, and you two just sat in silence, which he then broke when he said, “You know we have to talk about it eventually right?”

“Yeah, I know. Just sit with me here for a while.” You sighed out.

+++

When the two of you got home, you both got ready for bed, and then, had some serious pillow talk.

“I’m sorry for all of that at dinner, bub. I was just so angry and emotional. I guess that just proves their point.” You admitted to him.

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for. They were the ones out of line. You were right.”

“Thanks, Spence.” You told him with a small smile.

“What happened after I left?” You inquired.

Having an Eidetic memory, he recited exactly what he said to the team after you had left:

“Are you guys kidding me? I finally bring my girlfriend to meet you guys and all you do is berate and integrate her? I love that girl. She understands me. She knows what I need, even when I don’t even know. And she does this without being a profiler. She’s just that amazing. Yes, we may have thirteen years between us, but that means nothing to me. Did you guys even notice how much happier I became 7 months ago? Did you even care enough to notice? You guys have to learn that you don’t know everything about me and my life.”

After he told you what he said, you were sort of shocked. Spencer was never the person to loudly lash out in anger. Granted, he wasn’t the best at hiding his emotions, but when angry, he tended to be more serious and quiet than loud.

He told you, “I just got so mad at them, bub. You are my life and my everything. I just wanted them to like you, but then they were being so rude to you, baby, I couldn’t handle it.”

“How did the team react? You curiously asked.

“They were pretty shocked, I’d say. It was out of character for me, I guess.” Spencer replied while running his fingers through your hair.

“Well thanks for defending me. I love you” You said as you slowly drift off to sleep.  

Spencer looks down at you sleeping and smiles to himself. He is reminded why he said all those things to his team and is reminded of just how amazing and happy you make him feel. He gives you a kiss on the forehead, before drifting off, himself.

+++

The next day you decided you were going to bring Spencer lunch, you knew that you would have to face the team, but you and Spencer desperately need the time together.

As you walked into the BAU headquarters, you felt a sense of dread upon you. But that all went away when a certain Penelope Garcia saw you. She rushed over to you, pulled you in a hug, and profusely apologized for everything that had happened last night.

“I am so sorry for last night. You seem like such a nice girl, and aghhhh I can't believe we said those things. I’m so sorry, again.” Penelope blurted out.

“Hey, It’s ok. It’s not like it was you were the one saying those things right?” You replied very wearily.

“Yeah… well, either way, I am so sorry!”

You then see Spencer at his desk and decide to head over there, but before you can, the rest of his team corners you, and bombards you with apologies.

“Hey, I'm really sorry about that.”

“You didn’t deserve any of that”

“You really make Reid happy, and that's all I really want”

Those were some of the many things that you heard. You weren’t sure what to do. You weren’t sure if you could forgive and forget. But then something in you clicked, and you knew what to do.

“You know, I was really upset, but you guys are Spence’s family, so I really want to get along. So why don’t we start over?” You said as the team looked at you, a bit confused.

“Hi! I’m Y/n. Dr. Spencer Reid’s girlfriend.”

+++

So, from that moment on, the team made it a priority to get to know you, for who you really were, not just from their predispositions about you.

It was going well. And everyone was happy.

[fanfics4all]

Angels, Demons

Request: Yes / No  can you do a spencer reid imagine based on season 9 episode 23 and 24 please?? Anon

Requests are open, but please read this! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word count: 6009

Warnings: Spencer getting shot, reader getting shot, criminal minds stuff, ya know the drill. 

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your NickName

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

“So, we get Henry to bed, and, you know, we’re about to finally have some alone time with Mommy and Daddy, and… you guys know the rest.” JJ said while rolling her eyes. Spencer walked up to us along with Alex and I smiled at him. Spencer and I have been dating for a few years now and he was the love of my life. 

“Ah, trying to dust off the old cobwebs.” Morgan said with a smirk. 

“Inappropriate!” Garcia whisper-yelled and smacked him in the arm. 

“What?” He asked with a laugh. 

“Seriously, though, how long has it been?” She asked. 

“Too long.” JJ said with the most serious face I’ve seen. 

“Do we know what the case is?” Alex asked, changing the subject. 

“Not yet.” I answered. 

“Hotch just said to drop everything and get back here.” Rossi said. 

“You need some private adult time.” Garcia said. 

“Spencer and I can watch Henry for you guys if you want.” I offered, Spencer nodded in agreement. 

“You two should go to Mexico. Or the Maldives, maybe.” Garcia said. 

“Cruz?” JJ asked looking behind us. 

“Yes! Exactly. A cruise would be perfect.” Garcia said. 

“No, no, no. Matt Cruz.” She said motioning behind us. We all looked behind and saw Cruz and Hotch walking towards the round table room. 

“Let’s get started.” Hotch said. We all got up and followed. We got int the room before them and sat down quickly. 

“How are those ribs?” Cruz asked JJ. 

“Still hurts when I laugh. You?” She asked. 

“The scars impress the ladies.” He said. 

“I hope you don’t mind, Ms. Garcia, but I took the liberty of having the much less talented version of you in my office load the case details.” He said taking the remote from Garcia. 

“Oh. Yeah. Sure, no problem.” She said and sat down. 

“A good friend of mine, Sheriff Peter Coleman, down in Briscoe County, Texas, reached out to me about a possible case. He’s a former Texas ranger, he’s a good guy.” Cruz said. 

“He read about our work on the Silencer case two years ago. He asked for a consult.” Hotch said. 

“What do we have?” Alex asked. 

“Abigail Jones. Prostitute. She was found in a dumpster last night.” He said. 

“What’s that on her wrists?” I asked. 

“It’s, uh… it’s…” Cruz said while having trouble with the remote. 

“Uh, would you mind?” He asked Garcia. 

“Thank you, Jesus, Buddha, and Allah.” Garcia said quickly, taking the remote from him and standing up. 

“I like to cover my bases. You have to squeeze it.” She said and the pictures zoomed in. 

“Rope burns.” Rossi said. 

“Which goes hand in hand with the lacerations on her back.” Cruz said. 

“There’s also a gunshot wound to the back of her head, execution style.” JJ said. 

“It’s a conflict in M.O. The cutting and restraints points to sexual sadism, but the gunshot wound ends the torture too quickly for a sadist.” Spencer said. 

“Is she the only victim?” I asked. 

“There;s Hannah Kelly, another prostitute, killed six months ago, dumped one jurisdiction over.” Cruz said. 

“Forensic countermeasure. Smart enough to separate the victims so we won’t tie them together.” Alex said. 

“And practical, too. The body was left in hooker row, where they pick up their johns, which brings us to our first victim, Lucas Wagner. Killed eleven months ago. Multiple arrests for soliciting a prostitute. He was found outside of a crack house where some of them lived.” Cruz said. 

“He takes a paying customer and drops them where the girls live. That sends a message that nobody’s safe.” Morgan said. 

“Tell Sheriff Coleman we’re on our way.” Hotch told Cruz and we started collecting our things. We all got our go-bags and hopped onto the jet. We all were looking through the case files. 

“Ballistics matched one gun to all three shootings. So, the same unsub killed one John and two prostitutes.” JJ said. 

“At least he keeps it in the family.” Rossi said. 

“Maybe the John was a friend of the unsub, someone he picked up prostitutes with.” Alex said. 

“Well, once he kills his friend, it makes it easier to kill the prostitutes.” Morgan said. 

“That would explain why there’s no sexual assault on the victims. It’s not about rape for this unsub, it’s about toture.” Spencer said. 

“I mean, that fits, kind of, but it just feels like we’re missing something.” I said with a sigh. 

“What we’re missing is whether this guy’s a sadist or not. A gunshot to the back of the head throws everything off.” Rossi said. 

“We’re presuming he’s using the gun to end things, but it could be part of the psychological toture.” Hotch said. 

“I’m gonna cut you, and if you flinch, bang.” Spencer said. 

“Okay, so let’s go with that for a second. There were five cuts on Lucas Wagner, nine on Hannah, twelve on Abigail. He’s escalating his torture. Sadists definitely do that.” I said. 

“And they get deeper with each victim.” Alex added. 

“That’s right. The first cuts were experimental in nature, and the latter ones were about maximum infliction of pain.” Spencer said. 

“What if this is vigilantism? He’s punishing theses woman and their Johns to clean up the streets.” Rossi suggested. 

“But then why take so long to do it? Three victims in eleven months? That’s a substantial cooling-off period.” I said. 

“Y/N, Morgan, and Reid talk to anyone working the streets last night and see if they saw something useful. Dave and Blake, go to the coroner’s office, see what you can learn there, and JJ and I will go to the station with the Sheriff and start interviewing friends and family.” Hotch ordered. When we landed we settled in and immediately got out in the field. Morgan, Spencer, and I went to the station with the rest of the team first and we had an officer come with us. 

“Not too many spots for working girls to go to, so this’ll be your best shot.” He said as we got out of the car. 

“And you turn a blind eye to what goes on in here?” Spencer asked. 

“Agent, we only got one bar around here. Monday night’s karaoke, Tuesday’s line dancing, and the girls are discreet. Can hardly tell the professionals from the locals who just want to get their drink on. Not to mention, we shut this place down, then what?” He answered. 

“The devil you know kind of thing.” Morgan said. 

“Exactly.” The officer said. We walked into the bar and just about all eyes were on us. 

“Deputy.” The woman at the bar greeted. 

“Dinah, these three are agents from the FBI. You mind answering some questions?” He asked her. 

“Don’t know much, but sure.” She answered. 

“We’re trying to find out more about a woman named Abigail Jones. Did you know her?” Spencer asked placing her photo on the bar. 

“Why ya’ll askin’ about Abby?” A man at the bar asked. 

“When was the last time you saw her?” Spencer asked. 

“Last week. Same bat time, same bat station. She’s alright, ain’t she?” He asked. 

“No, actually, she was killed a couple of nights ago…” I answered. 

“Killed? God almighty.” He said.

“How well did you know her?” I asked. 

“Used to flirt. You know. She always said I couldn’t handle her. She was right. So I’d buy her drinks. She liked when I buy her drinks.” He answered. 

“Was she that kind of girl? Party girl, maybe?” Morgan asked. 

“It was hard to tell when she was loaded or not. I mean, she was always off. Like she had her own song goin’ on in her head.” Dinah answered. 

“Mack the knife.” The blonde girl on the other side of the bar said and we all looked at her. 

“Let me ask you, did Abigail come in often? Was she a regular customer?” Spencer asked as I walked over to the girl. 

“What was that?” I asked. 

“Mack the knife.” She said with a sigh. 

“Was that the song in her head?” I asked confused. 

“No. it was the name of her last… date. You know what I mean?” She answered. 

“I do. Have you ever met Mack the knife?” I asked. 

“No. She told me about him, said he was a good tipper.” She said. 

“Do you know where we might find him?” I asked. She started shaking and I looked over Dinah who was staring at us. 

“Would you prefer if we chat privately?” I asked quietly. 

“I can’t.” She said. 

“Okay.” I said and sat down next to her. 

“Why don’t we just talk then, you don’t have to look at me. Don’t move your head, just keep looking down.” I said quietly and took my card out. 

“I’m just trying to flirt with a pretty girl. And if you don’t mind, could you lean over and take this card from me?” I asked. She leaned over and took it from me. 

“See? I’m not so bad.” I said with a small laugh. 

“Come on, we’re just talking, having some fun, right?” I asked with a smile. 

“Why don’t you show me that pretty smile of yours. And smack me on my shoulder, like maybe I’m trying to get fresh or something, huh?” I said trying to instruct her what to do. 

“No? Yeah? Yeah?” I said with a raise of my brow as she shoved me a little bit. 

“Dirty girl, you wish.” She said with a flirty laugh. 

“Alright, well, you can’t blame a girl for trying. Especially when a pretty girl like you is sitting here all alone.” I said and she gave a little giggle. 

“It was nice to meet you.” I said with a smile and got up to return to the boys. 

“One last question. Do either of these two people look familiar to you?” Morgan asked as Spencer placed the pictures. 

“The boy looks familiar. Girl I’ve never seen.” Dinah said, shaking her head. 

“Well, thank you for your time. Would you mind if we came back a little later?” Spencer asked, collecting the photos. 

“Oh, anytime. Got nothin’ to hide.” She answered and we went to leave. 

“Sorry I couldn’t help you none.” She added as we left. We called Hotch and JJ, telling them about what we found out. 

The next day we got a call about another victim. All of us got our coffee and started the day. Spencer, Rossi ,and I went to where the body was. We pulled up and they were about to cut the body down. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing!?” Spencer shouted, stopping them. 

“Do not disturb the crime scene.” The Sheriff that came with us said. 

“We took a bunch of pictures just like you ordered.” The other cop said. 

“I ordered you not to touch a damn thing.” He said. 

“We need to look at the crime scene undisturbed. Do you mind not standing there?” I said. 

“He’s escalated his cuts. They’re not only bigger-”

“Cutting was done postmortem. It was the gunshot that killed her.” Spencer said, cutting Rossi off. 

“How can you tell?” An officer asked. 

“Uh, based on the lack of blood flow and scar tissue. If she were alive when this was done, there would be a lot more blood on her back.” Spencer answered. 

“Which means this wasn’t S&M. This was symbolic.” I said. 

“Symbolic of what?” The Sheriff asked. 

“We’re not sure.” Rossi said. 

“Can you guys smell that?” Spencer asked.  

“Lavender.” Rossi said. 

“That doesn’t grow in these parts.” The officer said. 

“It’s mainly around her legs.” Spencer said. 

“Why would he do that?” He asked. 

“Reid, can you look into it? We can’t trust the coroner to follow through.” Rossi said. 

“Yeah.” Spencer said getting up. 

“I can help.” I said following behind him. 

Spencer and I checked out the information, then joined the team to give the profile. Once we were set up we gathered everyone up and was ready to tell them what we’ve learned. 

“We believe the unsub we’re looking for is a white male in his early 30’s. While his M.O. is that of a sadist, we think there’s an underlying pathology of what we call a wound collector.” Hotch said. 

“What’s that?” One of the officers asked. 

“A wound collector is someone who uses a lifetime of sleights, grievance, and wrongs as justification for violence.” Spencer said. 

“Examples can be as large-scale as Hitler scapegoating the jews for the Holocaust, or as common as an abusive husband blaming his wife as an excuse to beat her.” I explained. 

“This unsub is low key, almost submissive in public. He has to be to attract the prostitutes.” Rossi said. 

“But his real nature will be revealed in the safety of isolation. This is the type of man who would anonymously express himself online by raging against how these women are filled with disease and filth, how they deserve what’s coming to them, probably to cover for the rejection of a woman or spouse who’s wronged him.” Spencer said. 

“Which means the unsub probably has a working-class or part-time job. It gives him the time to plan and execute the murders.” JJ said. 

“He’s strong and good with his hands and probably drives a work truck or large vehicle.” Rossi said. 

“This allows him to move the bodies and carry the tools for posing his victims.” Alex said. 

“Tabitha Ryerson tells us he’s losing control. He killed her in her home and then transported her body to the woods so he could mutilate her postmortem. The public nature of the display was a message.” Morgan said. 

“To who?” An officer asked. 

“To us. This is a small town and he knows the FBI is here investigating his crimes. He thinks that he’s showing us that he’s smarter than we are.” I answered. 

“He’s also showing us his wounds. There’s part of him that wants us to stop and punish him for his crimes.” Hotch said as his phone rang. 

“Thank you. Excuse me.” He said answering and walking off. The meeting was now dismissed and we all went off to do our own thing. 

Currently Alex and Rossi were interviewing a man they called Mack the knife. However, it turned out it wasn’t our guy. Spencer and I were still looking into the lavender while all this was going on. 

“I think we got it!” He said, turning to me. 

“What is it?” I asked and he showed me a book. 

“Let’s go tell the team.” I smiled and we walked over to the others. Hotch was talking to one of the victim's sisters when he looked over at us. He came over and Spencer was ready to rattle off the information we found. 

“Guys, I think we know what the lavender on Tabitha Ryerson’s legs is about. Have you ever heard of spikenard?” He asked. 

“Uh, no.” One of the officers answered. 

“It’s perfume. It’s mentioned in the gospels.” Hotch answered. 

“Yes! It’s derived from lavender. It’s what Mary Magdalene used to wash jesus’ feet, which tells us that this unsub’s message is obviously religious in nature.” I said. 

“Preacher Mills, maybe. He came forward to volunteer information.” Morgan said. 

“Well, yesterday he said he’d let us know if he had any more information, but apparently he’s changed his mind.” Hotch said. 

“He fits the profile. He’s morally rigorous, submissive in public.” JJ said. 

“So we’ll put an APB out for him.” One of the cops said with a nod. 

Spencer and Morgan went to the church to see if he might be there. I was here with the rest of the team trying to figure out where he could be, if he wasn’t there. 

“Well I don’t get it, if the preacher had something to do with it, then why was he so helpful?” An officer asked. 

“Unsubs insert themselves into investigations all the time. They enjoy the power and the feeling that they’re smarter than us.” Alex answered. 

“And to keep tabs on the case. He wanted to know how close we were to catching him.” Hotch added and I heard my phone ring. 

“Hey Garcia, whatcha got?” I answered and put her on speaker. 

“I got the backhoe going into the not-so-clean preacher. I haven’t found his present whereabouts yet, but I’m looking at his bank account and I can tell you he doesn’t adhere to the “give all your money to the poor” model.” She said. 

“Any idea where the money’s coming from?” Hotch asked. 

“Not yet. But it’s mostly cash, and we’re talking six figures big.” She answered. 

“You know, maybe it’s sex trafficking. This unsub is able to get prostitutes to let their guard down. They’re somebody he knows.” Alex said. 

“I thought you said our killer was a John.” An officer said. 

“Prostitutes would rat out a JOhn or kill him themselves, but they’d never go against their own pimp.” I said. 

“Garcia, take everything we know about Mills and run it up against pandering and procuring charges. This isn’t the first time he’s done this.” Hotch said. 

“You got it.” She said. She hung up and called us back when she had more information. 

“Did you know the charge of being a pimp, when gussied up, is “procuring and pandering”? And Hotch was right. Preacher Mills is familiar with this charge. Because before he was Justin Mills, he was Gordon Borell, and he was arrested for cutting one of the ladies he employed.” She said. 

“Where did he cut her?” Rossi asked. 

“On the back. When questioned, she said- oh, I’m gonna have to look at kitten videos after this- He was marking his property.” She said. 

“You’re kidding.” The Sheriff said. 

“That’s why he specifically asked me about the wounds on Lucas Wagner. He knew we’d find out about his past.” Hotch said. 

“Hey, Garcia? Why didn’t we find this out until now?” I asked. 

“Because he changed his name when he crossed the border. The Northern border to be exact. Mr. Mill, Nee borell, is from Tees, Alberta. I’ll tell you what those Canadians, They seem so sweet and innocent, but when they go back, they go Darth Vader bad.” She said and I shook my head. I decided it wasn’t the right time to tell her that Darth Vader turned to save his son’s life. 

“So he came here to start over, took on the mantle of the collar as the perfect cover for the sex trade.” Rossi said. 

“No one in this town would question a man of God. But now we got the smoking gun we need on this guy.” The Sheriff said. 

“Garcia, was there an attempted murder charge?” Hotch asked. 

“No. In fact, she said he wanted her to go back out and start working when he was done cutting her.” She answered. 

“He’s not our unsub.” Hotch said. 

We hung up with Garcia and went back to the rest of the team, now that Spencer and Morgan were back. 

“This guy fits to a T. How can we rule him out?” The Sheriff asked. 

“Criminally, pimps follow the same behavioral pattern as drug dealers.” I said with a shrug. 

“Prostitutes are his revenue stream.” JJ said. 

“He would only kill them as a last resort.” Spencer said. 

“Which is why the cutting in Canada was a punishment, not a religious punishment, but a punishment for not doing their jobs.” Alex said. 

“Then he comes here to start over, set up a new shop.” Morgan said. 

“And that’s when somebody found out about his past, used it as a forensic countermeasure to throw us off track by framing him.” I said. 

“That’s why the gir;s kept saying, “They’re” after us. There wasn’t a team of unsubs, but one sadist copying the behavior of another.” Hotch said.

“It would also explain the change with Tabitha, the escalation, the perfume on the feet.” Spencer said. 

“But you said the unsub wanted us to catch him and punish him.” The Sheriff said. 

“What he really wanted was for us to catch the preacher.” Rossi said. 

“So whoever this guy is, he’s fooled all of us, and now we got nothin’ when it comes to the profile.” The Sheriff said. 

“No, that’s not true. The unsub chose Mills for a reason, and Mills can still lead us to the unsub. We’ll have Agent Morgan and the deputies start at his house.” Hotch said and off they went.  We were all trying to figure out where the preacher could be going. So far, nothing. 

“Repeat, I’ve got the suspect headed into El Lobito’s diner.” An officer over the radio said, which made my ears perk up. 

“Copy, Deputy. We’re on our way.” The Sheriff said to her. 

“We got him.” He said walking up to us. 

“Alright, Blake, Reid, and Y/L/N go with the Sheriff. Dave and I will coordinate the response here.” Hotch ordered and we nodded. We followed behind the Sheriff and got on our way. 

“The preacher’s not answering.” Spencer said as we were on our way. 

“Keep trying, we need to tell him we know he didn’t do this.” Alex said and Spencer went back to calling. Still no answer. 

“He’s been in there a good five minutes now. I haven’t seen any movement yet.” The officer that was at the scene already said as soon as we got out. 

“What about patrons?” I asked. 

“Uh, it’s closed.” She answered. 

“How many entrances?” Alex asked. 

“Uh, two it looks like.” She answered. 

“The question is, is he alone?” Spencer asked. 

“Guys, I’ve got movement. We should move in now, Sheriff.” Another officer said. 

“Actually, we’re better off establishing the perimeter first. We need to open up and line of communication.” Spencer said. 

“Alright, agreed. We need to get around to the-” The Sheriff started, but was cut off by a gunshot, he was down. 

“Shots fired! Shots fired!” One of the officers shouted and we all got down. They started shooting at the window trying to hit the preacher. I saw the Sheriff still alive not far from us and I went to try and pull him to us. The preacher started shooting wherever he could and I was in his line of fire, but I couldn’t just leave the Sheriff there. 

“Y/N!” Spencer shouted and ran out to try and pull me back. 

“Reid!” I heard Morgan shout and I looked back to see Spencer on the ground. I dropped the Sheriff and quickly went to Spencer’s side. 

“Spencer! Spencer!” I shouted, but he was out of it. Morgan ran up and pulled him back. I went with him while JJ and Alex went to try and help the Sheriff. Morgan rested Spencer against a car and I kneeled down next to him. He had been shot in the neck. 

“Spencer, baby, I’m right here.” I whispered. 

“Y/N! We’re going in, you stay with him!” Morgan called and I nodded. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay baby, the ambulance is on their way.” I whispered. I saw his eyes open for a second and he looked at something, but I was too focused on him to drag my attention away. His eyes shut once again and I was beginning to panic. 

“Hurry! Please!” I shouted. Alex came beside me and looked at him. 

“Ethan! Ethan! You have to keep your eyes open.” She said. She was calling him the wrong name, but now wasn’t the time to correct her. The paramedics finally came and Spencer was being loaded into the ambulance. Alex was on the phone with Cruz as I stared at Spencer, worried and scared. 

“Y/N you should go in the ambulance with him.” JJ said walking up to us, along with Morgan. I just nodded and quickly got in with him, Morgan was joining us since he was a little banged up too. 

“The sound is like a tea kettle. Do you hear it?” Spencer asked with a slight slur. 

“What? Reid.” Morgan asked. 

“Pressure’s dropping.” One of the paramedics said and I swear my heart leaped out of my chest. 

“Pulse is thready. Starting large-bore I.V.” He said. 

“Spencer!” I cried. 

“Reid!” Morgan said worried. 

“Agent, you’ve got to sit back.” The woman working on Morgan said to him. 

“You gotta help him, man.” Morgan said to the guy. 

“Spencer, please, you’re stronger than this.” I said gently holding his hand. 

“Stay with us, we’re right here.” Morgan said to him. 

“Spencer, please, stay with us.” I begged. 

We finally made it to the hospital and they took him in right away. I had done to the bathroom to wash my hands and when I came out JJ was there with Alex. 

“Anything yet?” She asked and I shook my head. I took a seat near them and tried to hold back my tears. 

“Spencer would have read like two books by now, maybe three.” JJ said, trying to lighten the mood. 

“It should have been me…” I whispered. 

“Or me, or any of us.” JJ said. 

“No. He pushed me out of the way…” I said with tears in my eyes. 

“If he doesn’t make it…” I started, but couldn’t bring myself to finish my sentence. The tears finally falling. 

“He’ll make it.” JJ said. 

“He has to.” Alex said. Garcia walked in and saw us. 

“Hey.” She said walking over and coming to give me a hug. 

“You made it.” JJ said. 

“Yeah, turns out we’re not the only ones connected, he knows somebody with a plane.” She said, trying to keep the mood light. 

“How is he?” She asked. 

“Still in surgery.” Alex answered with a sigh. 

“You all can see Agent Morgan now.” A nurse said to us. 

“If you guys don’t mind, I’d really like to stay here…” I said looking down at my hands. 

“The second you hear anything, call us.” JJ said and I nodded. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” Garcia said and I nodded with a sad smile. 

I’m not sure how long I was there, but it felt like forever. All the negative thoughts were running through my head and I couldn’t stop them. 

“Agent.” Someone said and I looked up to see a doctor.

“How is he?” I asked standing up. 

“Incredibly lucky. Two millimeters to the right and the bullet would have torn through the carotid artery. It nicked some smaller vessels, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. You can see him now.” He said and it felt like I could breathe again. I grabbed his things that they gave me and quickly called JJ. 

“Hey, how is he?” She asked. 

“He’s alive. I’m going to see him now.” I said. 

“Great. Okay, thanks Y/N.” She said and hung up. Garcia had met up with me in his room and she was setting up little Doctor Who figures in front of him. 

“It’ll be so great if he wakes up and this is the first thing he sees.” She said. 

“Yeah… The Doctor always makes him smile.” I said with a sad smile.

“It’d be really weird if he wakes up and we’re all just oooh starting at him.” She said, which made me actually laugh a little bit. 

“So, I’m gonna go stand over here.” She said and moved to the window. I gently grabbed his hand and sighed. Garcia had went to go get him some food for when he wakes up. 

“Y/N?” He asked and I looked up to see him awake and I smiled. 

“Spencer! You’re alright.” I said and he looked at the Doctor Who figures in front of him. 

“Garcia.” I said before he could ask. He chuckled and I moved to sit at the edge of his bed. 

“When this comes off, I’m gonna look just like Boris Karloff.” He said and I chuckled a bit. 

“A little green makeup and it’ll be the best Halloween costume ever. And I could always go as the Bride of Frankenstein.” I said and he chuckled. 

“You’d look very cute.” He said and closed his eyes. 

“Hey, everyone is fine, don’t worry.” I said gently squeezing his hand. 

“I’m not.” He said with a small smile. 

“Then what is it?” I asked, but before he could answer Garcia walked in. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” She said with a smile. 

“Look who’s still awake. Can you tell her she can go now, please?” Garcia asked him and motioned her head at me. 

“I’m okay, Y/N. Go help the team.” He said. I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to leave him… 

“Are you sure?” I asked and he nodded with a smile. 

“They need you, you have to be my fill in.” He joked. 

“Fine.” I chuckled. 

“I love you.” I said and leaned down to kiss him. 

“I love you too, now go.” He said and I nodded. 

“Call me if anything changes.” I said to Garcia and she nodded. 

I made my way back to the station. I was kind of in the dark about what was going on. 

“Hey, how’s Dr. Reid?” One of the officers asked as I walked in. 

“He’s awake, he’s gonna be fine.” I answered and made my way to the team.

“That’s good to hear.” He said.  

“What’s wrong?” I asked. 

“Let’s take a car ride. I’ll fill you in.” Rossi said in a quiet voice. 

“JJ, send us the info.” He added as he got up, along with Alex. 

“Will do.” She whispered. The three of us left. 

Apparently Dianh had a son that was being used against her. The cops were corrupt. Luckily we had a suspect so hopefully everything would work out. Rossi and Alex were in the front talking, but I couldn’t seem to pay attention. My mind kept drifting back to Spencer. 

“What the hell?” I heard Rossi say, which snapped me back into reality. They were looking in the mirrors and I looked back to see two cop cars following us. They turned their sirens on and trapped us between them. 

“I thought you said it doesn’t get any worse.” Alex said.

“Until it does.” Rossi said. The two officers got out with their hands on their guns and we just watched in shock. 

“Are they really gonna shoot Federal Agents?” I asked. 

“They’re cops who’d rather die than get locked up. They’re desperate.” Rossi said. 

“She’s coming to you.” He said to Alex.

“Don’t they know they’re outnumbered?” I asked. 

“I don’t think they care.” Alex said as we all pulled out our guns. 

“Let’s roll.” Rossi said. We started shooting and just rolled through them. I was hit in the shoulder, but it wasn’t anything too bad. I could deal with it for a few hours if needed. I moved to the front with Rossi while Alex sat in the back with Dianh’s kid and her Mother. 

“You alright kid?” Rossi asked me. 

“I’ll be fine for a few hours, let’s get them to the safe house, then we can deal with me after.” I said and they nodded., We got them to the safehouse and the rest met us there with Dianh. 

“Let’s go, you two drop Y/N off at the hospital then meet us at the junkyard.” Hotch said and Rossi and Alex nodded. 

“I’m fine Hotch.” I said and he shook his head. 

“I’m not letting you go with a bullet wound.” He said and I sighed. Probably a good idea. They dropped me off at the hospital and I was getting treated. As soon as I was done they said I was free to go and I decided to just go see Spencer. 

“Hey, you guys okay?” I asked. 

“What happened to you?” Garcia asked. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” I said and smiled at Spencer sleeping. 

Finally the case was over and we could all go home. When we got off the plane Alex offered to help us home. We knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. We were walking upstairs to our apartment and it felt so good to be home again. 

“You sure you guys are okay?” She asked. 

“I feel great.” Spencer answered and I nodded in agreement. 

“Ah, that’s overselling it.” He said and I giggled. 

“I, uh, I feel great considering I just got shot in the neck.” He said as we reached the top of the stairs. 

“Sounds about right.” I said. Spencer opened the door and Alex followed us in. 

“Where do you want this?” She asked referring to our bags that she refused to let us carry. 

“Right there is fine.” I said pointing to the couch. 

“Okay, so, you two should get some sleep.” She said. 

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked. 

“Yesterday touched a nerve when I saw you like that.” She said. 

“Who’s Ethan?” I asked. 

“My son.” She answered and my eyes widened slightly. 

“He was nine when he died. Doctors said it was neurological, but they didn’t have a name for it. Still don’t. That drove me crazy, no word to put to this thing that took away my greatest love.” She said and my heart hurt for her. 

“I’m sorry.” Spencer said. 

“He kept growing despite his disease. The last time I laid beside him, he was almost as long as me. He was ready to go, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I begged him to open his eyes. And the cruelest part was that I could see who he would be at twenty, but I knew he’d never get there.” She said. 

“I’m so sorry, Alex.” I whispered. 

“Ethan’s a great name.” Spencer said which made her smile. 

“Yeah. It means enduring.” She said. 

“It’s fitting.” I said. 

“You and James never let go of one another.” Spencer said and she smiled. She made her way to the door, but Spencer stopped her. 

“Have you ever had that feeling that your future is somehow behind you?” He asked and I looked at him confused. 

“All the time.” She answered with a nod. 

“I did, too. But it isn’t.” He said and I smiled at him. 

“Ethan would have been a lot like you.” She said and left. 

“Bye Alex.” He said and I knew it was the final goodbye. She wasn’t going to be a part of us anymore. I pulled Spencer in for a hug and he held me tightly. 

“I really thought my future was behind me, until I met you.” He said and kissed my head. 

“I know.” I whispered and smiled up at him. He pulled away and walked over to his bag. He pulled out a small box and turned back to me. He got down on one knee and my eyes widened. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you with all my heart and you’ve helped me so much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” He asked and a few tears fell down my cheek. 

“Yes! A million times yes! I love you so much Spencer.” I said and leaned down to kiss him. He pulled back with a laugh and placed the perfect ring on my finger. I looked at the ring and it was simple gold with small diamonds around the outside. The band itself was like a vine and it was perfect. 

“This is amazing Spencer.” I whispered and he smiled. 

“I thought you’d love it.” He said and I smiled up at him. 

“We should probably get some sleep now.” I whispered and he nodded. 

“Come on, let’s rest up.” He said, pulling me along with him. We got into bed and he held me close. 

“I love you so much Y/N.” He whispered and kissed my head. 

“I love you so much too, Spencer.” I whispered back and smiled. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @softgamerking @lady-of-lies @simonsbluee @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @pettyjayy​ @reidssmile​ @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @braeleexelizabeth​ @satans-0-spawn​ @emofairygay​

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 26. silence is never silent

take me back to understand, we deep inside our hearts know, we don't make the wind blow. - The Common Linnets, We Don't Make The Wind Blow

N O V E M B E R   1 8 T H   2 0 1 1

Last week, I found myself back in the lecture hall, a place I hadn't visited in a while. I had skipped teaching last semester because work had consumed all my time. With cases piling up, there was no room for academic pursuits. But now, with things settling down a bit, I felt drawn back to the world of academia.

Work felt strangely quiet this week, an eerie calm hanging over everything. It was the kind of silence that made you feel like something big was about to happen. In law enforcement, calm moments like these often signaled that a storm was brewing, something significant waiting just around the corner.

It reminded me of a superstition in emergency rooms—the belief that saying "It's a quiet night" could jinx things and bring chaos. It was as if acknowledging the peace invited trouble. Similarly, the quietness at work hinted at trouble ahead, a reminder that in our line of work, calm moments were often followed by chaos.

As I neared the end of my lecture, ready to dive into the details of next week's lesson, my phone buzzed on the desk, snapping me out of my academic focus. A message from JJ popped up, short and ominous: "We have a case and it's a bad one."

Letting out a sigh, I wrapped up the class, hastily ending my presentation as I headed for the door. The weight of responsibility settled over me like a thick blanket as I hurried to my car. The urgency of the situation pushed me forward, a grim determination driving me towards the office.

As we gathered in the conference room, there was a palpable sense of shock and determination hanging in the air. The images on the screen painted a horrifying picture: three bodies hanging from tree branches, their mutilated torsos, hearts torn from their chests, and their dignity stripped away with their genitals exposed for all to see. The chilling inscription above the macabre images simply read, 'Washington D.C.'

Garcia's voice broke through the solemn silence, her tone tinged with a sense of urgency and concern. "We're staying home today," she announced firmly, her words carrying a weight that left no room for doubt.

With a solemn expression, Garcia introduced each victim: Elijah Benedict, Alan Damon, and Philip DeJong. Their names echoed in the room, a reminder of the lives lost in this brutal act of violence. Ranging in age from forty-three to fifty, they were now reduced to mere statistics in a tragic tableau.

Morgan's words broke the tension, voicing what everyone was thinking. "Someone's got a grudge," he stated firmly, the seriousness of the situation evident in his tone. "This feels personal."

Rossi cut through the silence with a question that hung heavily in the air. "When did these attacks happen?" he inquired urgently, his concern palpable.

Hotch, as authoritative as ever, provided a grim timeline. "The first victim, a week ago," he began, each word weighed down by the severity of the situation, "the second, three days ago, and the last one, this morning." His words lingered in the room, a stark reminder of the swift and methodical nature of the assaults.

Garcia, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she accessed the chilling details, added to the grim narrative. "They were all held captive for at least a day," she concluded, her voice trembling slightly as she relayed the extent of the victims' suffering. "But no more than two, because in all three cases we have colleagues who can confirm they were at work at least two days prior."

"Do we have any connections between them?" JJ's question drew everyone's attention to Garcia, the team's digital expert.

"They all had more than just a thing for women," Garcia replied, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she dug deeper into the digital archives. "I'm still combing through their backgrounds for more connections or useful info. I'll keep you posted if I find anything important."

Despite the heaviness of the case weighing on us, the day wore on without any major breakthroughs. We'd spoken with the victims' families and colleagues, but hadn't uncovered much. Still, the urgency of the situation hung in the air, reminding us that time was ticking and another abduction could happen at any moment.

As I stepped into the familiar embrace of our home, weariness clung to my every step, burdening my shoulders with its weight. But the sight that greeted me at the table instantly lifted my spirits—a home-cooked meal, lovingly prepared by Maile, awaited me. It was a silent testament to her thoughtfulness and understanding, a gesture made all the more special by the fact that I had given her a heads-up about my return time.

The delicious aroma that filled the air hinted that Maile hadn't been the chef behind tonight's dinner—a fact that both amused and touched me deeply. Cooking wasn't her forte, something she freely admitted and often joked about. Despite her occasional forays into the kitchen, she knew her limitations well.

I couldn't suppress a chuckle at the thought of her valiant attempts, knowing the likely outcome. There had been times when I couldn't resist sneaking a taste of her creations while her back was turned. Yet, the results always reaffirmed her self-awareness; her dishes consistently fell short of culinary excellence, sparing me from any further taste-testing adventures.

But even in her culinary missteps, there was a certain charm—a willingness to try, despite knowing the odds were against her. It was just another endearing aspect of her personality, one that I cherished dearly and wouldn't trade for anything in the world.

"Hey," she greeted me with a radiant smile as I trudged wearily through the doorway, my exhaustion palpable in every step. Without a moment's hesitation, she gracefully relieved me of my burdens, gently setting aside my bag, and enveloping me in a comforting embrace. In the sanctuary of her arms, I felt the weight of the day slowly lift, soothed by the rhythmic beat of her heart that seemed to echo my own.

"Thank you," I whispered gratefully, my voice a mere breath as I leaned into her embrace. "I needed that."

Her response was simple yet profound, spoken with genuine sincerity. "Anytime."

With a gentle nudge, she guided me toward the table, her touch a comforting caress against my weary frame. "Now, let's eat," she urged softly, her voice carrying a warmth that seeped into my bones. "Tell me all about your day, and then let's just relax together tonight. No agenda, no worries—just us, unwinding and being together."

Her words, infused with a sense of tranquility, promised an evening of solace away from the chaos of the outside world. As I settled into my seat, the enticing aroma of the meal she had prepared enveloped me, coaxing forth a sense of contentment and gratitude. It was in these simple moments, shared within the comforting embrace of our home, that I found sanctuary and peace amidst life's trials.

She made every hardship of the day worthwhile.

As evening draped its comforting embrace around us, we settled snugly onto the couch, cocooned in its warmth. My fingers wove delicate patterns through her hair, offering a gentle caress that sought to soothe her troubled mind. In the hush of the moment, I broached a question, my voice a mix of curiosity and care.

"Are you starting to remember things?" I asked softly, my words hanging in the air, stirring up a sense of unease within her.

"It's coming back in flashes," she confessed in a quiet voice, the weight of her inner conflict heavy in her words. "But I don't want to, Alex." Tears welled up in her eyes, reflecting the turmoil raging inside her, a silent testament to the overwhelming emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

With gentle care, I wiped away the tears from her cheeks, hoping for my touch to bring comfort to her raw emotions. Pulling her closer, I wrapped her in my embrace, our legs intertwined, my chest against her back, and my chin nestled in the curve of her neck.

My words flowed softly, like a soothing breeze in the night. "It's a good thing, Smiles," I murmured, my voice a gentle caress against her ear. "You need to process, and why not now? You're not alone. I am here."

"I am scared," she admitted, feeling the weight of her vulnerability in her words. "I don't want to be. I mean, I don't even have the right to. Look at what you're facing at work every day-"

Before she could finish her self-deprecating thoughts, I interrupted, my voice firm but kind. "Don't go there. Don't belittle your pain because you feel like someone else's is worse," I urged, my gaze locking with hers, unwavering in its intensity. "You can't feel their pain, and they can't feel yours. You have every right to be in pain."

I planted a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, my touch offering solace to the swirling turmoil in her mind. With a deep breath, she found the courage to open up about the memories that had started to come back to her.

"I remember hearing more voices," she admitted softly, squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to transport herself back to that time. "Not just James and Ira. Other voices, but I can't place them. At first, I thought they might be part of your team, but they're not. I can't remember how many there were, or if I even saw them. I just knew they were there."

I held her close, my warmth surrounding her like a shield, as I pressed another kiss to her temple, offering comfort and reassurance. Feeling my support, she continued, "There were at least two other men," her voice trembling with uncertainty and unease. Each word dredged up memories she'd buried deep down.

"That's good", I said with genuine admiration, a soft smile gracing my lips as I gazed at her. "You did good, baby."

N O V E M B E R 1 9 T H 2 0 1 1

As I stepped into the bustling bullpen, the familiar symphony of activity surrounded me—the rhythmic tapping of keyboards, the rustle of papers, and the murmur of voices blending into a harmonious cacophony. In the midst of this organized chaos, Hotch emerged like a captain navigating through turbulent waters, his purposeful stride signaling an imminent discussion. "Alex," he called out, his voice authoritative yet welcoming. "Can I have a word?"

His unexpected request sent a shiver of apprehension down my spine as I followed him to his office, my mind swirling with questions about the nature of our impending conversation. Despite my uncertainty, I complied, trailing behind him as we entered the sanctum of his private workspace. The soft click of the door closing behind us added a weight of seriousness to the atmosphere, intensifying the gravity of what was to come.

Seated across from each other, Hotch's usually composed demeanor was tinged with an unusual solemnity as he retrieved a file from his desk. A sense of foreboding settled over me, a knot tightening in the pit of my stomach. "We've identified the DNA found at the crime scene," he began, his words hanging heavy in the air like a dark cloud.

My exhaustion seemed to deepen as I struggled to comprehend the significance of his revelation. "And why are we discussing this privately?" I inquired cautiously, my mind racing to grasp the implications. "Why just you and me?"

Hotch's expression remained unreadable as he delivered the bombshell that left me reeling. "Because," he began, his voice steady, "it matches Maile's DNA."

A wave of disbelief washed over me, threatening to drown out all rational thought. Panic surged through me as the weight of his words settled in. "I should never have uttered those words," I berated myself silently, the casual remark I made earlier now haunting me with its unforeseen consequences.

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 24. forty-five-and-a-half

we can let them wonder; everyone thinks they know the truth. - Keaton Simons, Nobody Knows

N O V E M B E R   9 T H   2 0 1 1

For the past three days, life had been a whirlwind since I brought Maile to live with me. It felt like a major milestone, almost as significant as the day I decided to reconnect with her after our past parted ways.

As I walked into the office, Reid greeted me warmly. "Hey, Alex! Welcome back."

I had deliberately taken three days off, fully dedicating myself to being with Maile. Every moment was spent getting to know her better, studying her habits and idiosyncrasies. It might sound a bit voyeuristic, but my aim was to truly get to know her, all of her.

I couldn't help but notice how she cradled her glass with both hands, a gesture that echoed innocence, like a child holding onto something precious. And the way she drank, taking small, deliberate sips instead of the usual gulps, was incredibly charming.

"It's good to be back," I replied, my words filled with genuine warmth.

As I made my way over to my desk, I spotted Morgan, JJ, and Garcia already there, their laughter and chatter filling the air. It was like they had their own little bubble of camaraderie, and privacy was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, hey, turtledove," Morgan greeted me with a grin, mischief dancing in his eyes.

Finding my desk occupied, I settled for perching on the edge of Reid's desk, joining the lively group.

"Come on, spill the beans," Garcia urged, leaning forward eagerly. "Did anything juicy happen while you were away?"

Yep, privacy wasn't exactly on the menu. But in the midst of all the banter and teasing, there was a comforting sense of belonging with my team. I knew behind their playful jests lay unwavering support.

Putting on a facade of innocence to mask my racing thoughts, I casually asked, "What should have happened?" It wasn't just a casual inquiry; it was a subtle way to gain more understanding in what they wanted to know.

But before anyone could respond, Hotch briskly walked past us, his expression serious and focused. The file in his hand hinted at the urgency of the situation. "Four homicides in Colorado Springs," he announced, his voice carrying the weight of responsibility as he headed towards the conference room.

After we hashed out every detail of the case in the conference room and combed through it again on the plane, we found ourselves with a solid three hours of travel time left before landing at our destination.

During this downtime, the three youngest members of our team wasted no time in bombarding me with questions. They were like eager detectives, hungry for every scrap of information. But I managed to dance around their inquiries that tiptoed into personal territory, skillfully deflecting without giving too much away.

Meanwhile, Hotch and Rossi remained focused as ever, absorbed in their own tasks and discussions. Their quiet efficiency stood in stark contrast to the lively chatter that surrounded them.

Morgan's question hung in the air, wrapped in a mix of curiosity and mischief. His playful yet persistent tone hinted at the burning desire to know more. "So you were going to tell us what happened between the two of you," he prodded, his eyes sharp with anticipation.

With a subtle shake of my head, I pushed back gently against the inquiry. "No," I responded, a wry smile dancing on my lips as I sought to maintain a sense of mystery. "You simply asked me 'if' something had happened. I never said anything had." Despite my attempt to deflect, I couldn't suppress a flicker of amusement at the exchange.

But JJ, always quick to pick up on things, chimed in with a knowing grin. "Oh, come on. Your face says it all," she teased, adding a playful twist to the conversation. "Something definitely happened."

"And what would that be?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow at the mysterious exchange unfolding before me, eager to hear their theories.

Their eyes met, passing silent messages like telegrams filled with hidden secrets. Morgan leaned in, whispering something to Reid, his words veiled in secrecy. Reid, in turn, shared the confidential message with JJ, their heads close together in a secretive huddle. As they murmured among themselves, I watched, anticipation growing, wondering what bombshell would come from their covert conversation.

Finally, they broke from their huddle, faces displaying newfound determination, tinged with mischief. With a playful nudge from JJ, Reid stepped forward, ready to deliver their collective conclusion.

"Alright," he began, voice laced with mischief. "After some intense deliberation and analysis of all the facts, we, well, mainly these two," he gestured towards Morgan and JJ with a sly grin, "have come to the conclusion that there must have been... some form of coitus."

I nearly choked on my drink, caught off guard by Reid's bombshell. "And how did you arrive at that conclusion?" I managed to splutter, disbelief evident in my voice.

Once again, my coworkers gathered closely, heads bent as if sharing some secret scheme. Reid stepped forward, taking on the role of spokesperson with a mix of amusement and a hint of embarrassment.

"Considering you two have been living together for three days," Reid began, his words cautious, "it's possible you've had some... opportunities." He shot me a knowing glance before adding, "And Alex, it's been a long time since you were last with someone."

His words hit me like a sucker punch, making me cough on my drink. Morgan nudged Reid forward, silently signaling him to get to the point.

"Yeah, yeah," Reid said to Morgan before turning to me. "And let's not forget, you two are head over heels for each other, like a couple of horny teenage boys ready to jump at anything that moves."

I stayed silent, refusing to give their comments any acknowledgment. Frustration hung heavy in the air as I got up from my seat and moved to the far end of the plane. There, I sought refuge in the quiet corner, determined to distance myself from their teasing and gossip that seemed to fill the cabin.

N O V E M B E R   1 0 T H   2 0 1 1

In a remarkable show of teamwork and clever thinking, we cracked the case in just two days. It was a real testament to our skills and dedication. But even as we celebrated our success, I knew better than to get too comfortable. Experience had taught me that triumphs often meant tougher challenges ahead. So, despite our recent win streak, I braced myself for whatever tough case might come next, knowing it could drag on for weeks, testing our patience and brainpower.

As the clock struck 9 PM, signaling the end of another long day, the office buzz quieted down. My desk was buried under a mountain of paperwork that seemed to grow by the minute. Looking around, I noticed the usually bustling office was strangely empty. It was just me and Reid, his presence standing out in the deserted workspace. It was unusual, and I couldn't help but wonder where everyone else was.

"Hey Reid, do you know—" I started, but he cut me off, seamlessly blending the end of my sentence into his response.

"Blake, could you hand in my case report?" His voice was urgent as he dropped a stack of papers on my desk and dashed off before I could even react.

"Yeah, sure," I muttered, though inwardly, I felt a twinge of annoyance at being saddled with yet another task. It seemed like the endless pile of work was something I couldn't escape, no matter how much I wanted to.

As I weaved through the office, dodging desks and cubicles, the weight of the reports in my arms felt heavier with each step. It was like the air itself was conspiring to make my burden even heavier.

Approaching Hotch's office, I was stopped before I could even knock. Hotch stood in the doorway, his expression as unreadable as ever, his demeanor as solid as the walls around us.

"You can take those to Strauss," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument as he handed me another stack of reports. "She wants to review them herself."

I nodded silently, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as I thought about the endless stream of tasks waiting for me. Duty called, and I had no choice but to answer.

Turning on my heel, I headed towards Erin's office. We had a history. There was a time when our connection hinted at something more, a potential for romance lingering on the edge of our professional partnership. But that fragile thread snapped when Erin betrayed my trust, leaving me to fend for myself during a critical moment in one of our cases.

As I stepped into Erin's office, I found her deeply immersed in scrutinizing case files, her brow creased with concentration. "Thought I'd add to your stack," I quipped lightly, placing the files on her cluttered desk.

She looked up, exhaustion evident in her face, and gave a brief nod of thanks. "Appreciate it."

I hesitated, ready to leave, but her next question caught me off guard. "How are you holding up, Alex? After everything?" I assured her, hiding any vulnerability behind a calm facade.

"I'm heading home to her right after this," I announced firmly, turning to leave without waiting for a response. "Take care." I glanced back briefly before stepping out of her office.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I felt anticipation building inside me. Home was calling, and I was eager to embrace it with open arms.

Feeling utterly drained yet excited to finally reach the comfort of my home, I trudged up the familiar path leading to our house, my bag hanging heavily from my shoulder. Despite the fatigue weighing me down, the thought of reuniting with my favorite person pushed me onward with a newfound determination.

"Hey, I'm back!" I called out as I pushed open the door, anticipating Maile's cheerful response. But to my surprise, the house was eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere I had expected.

"Maile?" I called again, venturing further inside, a sense of unease settling over me as I scanned the rooms for any sign of her. Then, I spotted the colorful balloons scattered throughout the house, hinting at Maile's activities during my absence.

Intrigued yet cautious, I continued exploring, unsure of what surprise awaited me. Suddenly, Maile's voice rang out, breaking the silence and making me jump in surprise. As I turned the corner, I was met with an unexpected sight.

The room was filled with the cheerful chatter of my entire team, each one wearing festive party hats that Maile must have persuaded them to don. Even Hotch, known for his serious demeanor, couldn't hide the hint of a smile as he joined in the festive celebration.

I stood there, eyes wide with disbelief, taking in the scene unfolding before me. The table was piled high with delicious snacks and refreshing drinks, all meticulously arranged by Maile. Balloons of different sizes hung from the ceiling, forming the numbers '45 ½' in a playful nod to the occasion.

Baffled by the unexpected celebration, I couldn't help but ask, "What's this?" My voice held a mix of surprise and genuine curiosity.

Maile beamed with warmth as she approached, gently taking the weight off my shoulders and guiding me towards the gathering. "We're celebrating," she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she led me into the midst of our friends.

Confused but intrigued, I looked around at the smiling faces, each one filled with excitement and anticipation. "But what are we celebrating?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued by the mystery that surrounded the occasion.

Maile's smile widened as she explained the reason behind the surprise party. "I couldn't be there for your 45th birthday, or for many before," she confessed, her words carrying a heartfelt sincerity that touched my soul. "And I thought you deserved a celebration. So, we are celebrating your 45-and-a-half-th birthday, which just so happens to be today."

A soft chuckle escaped me as I soaked in Maile's thoughtful gesture. "My 45-and-a-half birthday, huh?" I mused, feeling a surge of affection for her. It was moments like these that reminded me of just how wonderful she was, her creativity and kindness never failing to warm my heart.

"Absolutely," she affirmed with a playful glint in her eye. "I couldn't let such a milestone pass, now could I?" Her words were filled with joy, echoing the festive atmosphere that surrounded us.

A rush of laughter bubbled up from deep within me, spilling out in waves of pure joy as I leaned in to share the moment with Maile. Pulling her close, I wrapped her in a tender embrace, feeling the warmth of her against me as I pressed my lips to hers in a sweet, gentle kiss. In that fleeting moment, amidst the laughter and celebration, I felt a swell of emotion rising within me.

It wasn't just any kiss; it was a milestone, a symbol of how far we'd come together. Sharing that kiss openly, in front of our friends, felt like a true achievement—a testament to our journey and the newfound freedom and authenticity we'd discovered in our relationship.

Though my team already knew about us, their reactions were filled with genuine excitement and happiness, as if they were witnessing our love unfold for the very first time. Their collective gasps and cheers filled the room, creating an atmosphere of warmth and camaraderie that surrounded us all.

In that moment, I was reminded of the unwavering support and friendship I found in each of them. They were more than just colleagues; they were my true cheerleaders, always ready to lift each other up and celebrate life's milestones together. It was moments like these that made me grateful for the bond we shared, a bond that went beyond work and touched the depths of our hearts.

"Time for cake!" Maile's suggestion of diving into a sweet treat was met with a gentle reminder from me about the late hour. Glancing at my watch, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of concern as I noted the time.

"It's almost 10 PM," I remarked, subtly expressing my hesitation about indulging in cake so late.

But Garcia, always one to champion the joys of life, quickly dismissed any worries. "Who cares about the time? Cake is always a good idea!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

With a grin echoing Garcia's sentiment, Maile nodded in agreement and playfully nudged her in camaraderie. "Exactly," she chimed in, her tone lighthearted as she acknowledged Garcia's unwavering love for life's little pleasures. "That woman knows what she's talking about."

Then, with a playful tease, Maile turned to me. "Now, malady," she continued, "you're going to sit back and enjoy the cake I ordered because the one I made was definitely not edible without a heavy case of food poisoning."

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 23. 'you' are home

i need you in my house, cause you're my home. - Billy Joel, You're My Home

N O V E M B E R   6 T H   2 0 1 1 continued.

As the clock struck 5 PM, we finally reached Alex's charming home. Inside, it was like stepping into a world of timeless beauty. Hardwood floors met exposed beams in the ceiling, and sunlight poured in through grand windows, filling the rooms with a warm, golden glow that matched Alex's radiant presence.

Leading the way, Alex guided me to our room with an easy grace, as if this moment held no weight at all. "Here's our room," she announced, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. "But if you'd rather sleep elsewhere, there's a room on the other side of the house."

I couldn't help but chuckle at her suggestion, the sound bouncing off the walls with a shared understanding and affection. "I think I made my intentions pretty clear," I teased, a playful edge to my words.

With a soft smile, Alex stepped closer, her hand gently touching my cheek as she leaned in to place a tender kiss on my lips. "Nothing changes as fast as a girl's mind," she murmured, her voice tinged with a note of vulnerability. "So I want you to just know that it's okay if you want to sleep in another room."

she whispered, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. "So if you'd rather sleep in another room, it's okay."

But I shook my head, meeting her gaze with determination. "Maybe a girl's mind can," I agreed, "but a woman's heart has made a choice that stands forever."

Taking the lead this time, I closed the gap between us, my lips seeking hers with a sense of urgency that matched the depth of my feelings.

As our lips met, a rush of emotions flooded over me, leaving me breathless and exhilarated. Her kiss felt both familiar and new, like a melody from long ago echoing in my mind. It reminded me of the first time I saw her after twenty-five years, a moment etched into my memory with perfect clarity.

With a longing to hold her close, I pulled her nearer, my fingers gripping the fabric of her blouse as if to keep her with me forever. The thought brought a giggle bubbling up from within me, filling the space between us with joyous laughter.

Alex noticed the change in my mood and pulled back slightly, her eyes searching mine for answers. "What is it?" she asked, her voice gentle and comforting, filling the room with warmth.

I shook my head, a smile spreading across my face. "Who'd ever thought we'd end up here?" I marveled, a hint of disbelief in my voice.

"Not me," she admitted, her fingers running through my hair with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. "Yet it doesn't surprise me one bit."

"It doesn't?" asked, unable to hide my curiosity.

"Nope," she confirmed, her gaze steady as she revealed her feelings. "It's why my past relationships never worked out, even my marriage. I always loved you more, even when we were apart for years. You've always had the biggest piece of my heart."

Her words washed over me like a revelation, filling me with awe and gratitude. I couldn't help but smile, realizing that I had held her heart all along, and now, it was mine to cherish forever.

"Would you like to take a shower? Freshen up a bit?"Alex's gentle question snapped me out of my thoughts, bringing me back to the present moment.

I nodded eagerly, feeling like the idea of a shower after leaving the hospital was a dream come true. The hospital showers weren't exactly luxurious, and I couldn't shake off the feeling that the scent of sickness lingered on me wherever I went. I couldn't understand how Alex could still bear to be around me.

"That sounds highly necessary," I replied, gratitude evident in my voice.

Alex chuckled softly as she got up from the bed. "I'll grab you some towels and clean clothes," she offered, her kindness soothing my weary soul.

"Thanks," I murmured, feeling the weight of my troubles bearing down on me like a heavy burden.

Under the warm spray of water, I took a moment to reflect on the journey that had brought me to this point. How had I ended up here, in the arms of the person I loved most, after surviving near-death experiences, kidnappings, and years of separation?

As I poured Alex's familiar shampoo into my hands, the scent of lavender and rosemary filled the air, wrapping around me like a comforting hug. Memories flooded back from our shared childhood, simpler times when our biggest worry was getting home before dark. But as I went to lather it into my hair, frustration bubbled up inside me. My body, still weak from the recent trauma, refused to cooperate. Every movement sent a sharp pain shooting through my abdomen, a reminder of the injuries I was still recovering from.

The groan that escaped my lips seemed to reverberate through the entire house, drawing Alex's attention like a magnet. In an instant, she was at the door, concern etched on her face even from behind the closed barrier.

"Are you okay?" Her voice, filled with worry, pierced through the silence, seeking reassurance.

With a heavy sigh, I let myself sink to the floor, exhaustion weighing me down like a ton of bricks. Alex's words echoed in my mind; I wasn't quite ready to face the world on my own just yet. The memories of the recent trauma lingered, each ache and pain a reminder of what I'd been through. The gunshot wound, the bruises – they were all stark reminders of how fragile life could be.

"Not really," I admitted, the defeat clear in my voice as I struggled to find my footing once again.

Even though Alex was on the other side of the door, I could almost feel the concern radiating from her. The idea of her seeing me in such a vulnerable state, battered and bruised, made me uneasy. I didn't want her to witness me like this, especially since everything about 'us' was still new. She hadn't seen me, all of me, in years.

But as I grappled with my limitations, it became clear that I had no choice but to swallow my pride and accept her help. I couldn't handle it alone, and deep down, I knew she was the only one I trusted enough to guide me through this rough patch.

"Yeah," I sighed, the weight of my admission heavy in the air.

The door creaked open softly, revealing Alex's concerned face as she took in the scene. My feeble attempt to keep my balance was futile, and before I could warn her, she darted into the shower fully clothed. Within moments, the rushing water soaked her attire, leaving her dripping wet.

Despite my predicament, a chuckle escaped me at the absurdity of it all. Alex gave me a puzzled look as I gestured to her drenched clothes. "I'm sorry," I managed between laughs. "Your clothes."

"Don't worry about that," she waved off my concern. "Your safety is what matters most."

A hush fell between us, the air thick with unspoken understanding as Alex's gaze drifted over the bruises that marred my skin. Her expression revealed a mix of empathy and sorrow that pulled at my heartstrings.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this," I confessed, regret coloring my voice. "I wish you didn't have to."

Without hesitation, Alex responded with sincerity, "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this, because of—"

I interrupted her before she could finish, feeling the familiar pang of guilt welling up inside me. "First of all, no, Alex. We've been through this. You can't blame yourself for what happened. That woman was sick. And secondly, that's not exactly what I meant."

Confusion clouded her features as she tried to grasp my meaning. "Then what were you talking about?" she asked, furrowing her brow in puzzlement.

"Well, let's just say these bruises aren't exactly a turn on," I admitted with a nervous chuckle, feeling a blush creeping into my cheeks at the confession.

Alex shook her head, a playful grin dancing on her lips. "Oh, hush," she teased before her eyes fell on the open bottle of shampoo. "Were you trying to wash your hair?"

I nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, but it didn't exactly go as planned."

"Sit down," Alex said gently, guiding me to the floor with a comforting touch. "I'll take care of it."

As I settled onto the tiled surface, I felt compelled to explain myself. "It's just that dream," I blurted out. "Someone washing my hair. Like I'm some lazy, entitled princess who pays someone to do everything for her."

Alex's laughter filled the small space, a reassuring sound that lifted the weight off my shoulders. "You're ridiculous," she teased, her eyes glowing with fondness.

"Yeah, well, I warned you," I replied with a casual shrug. "I'm a pain in the ass."

Her fingers worked the shampoo into my scalp with practiced skill, each stroke bringing a sense of calm over me. It was almost surreal, and I started to understand why people enjoyed such pampering experiences.

"Lean back against my legs," Alex instructed softly, her voice like a soothing melody in the dimly lit bathroom.

I obeyed, allowing myself to melt into her embrace as she rinsed the lavender and rosemary from my hair. The concentration on her face was endearing, showing her dedication to taking care of me.

With careful attention, she applied the matching conditioner, her movements deliberate as she worked through my hair. I couldn't help but be captivated by her tenderness, feeling the love emanating from each touch.

Caught in the moment, our eyes locked, and a smile spread across her face.

"I want you to make me a promise," Alex whispered softly, her fingers gently massaging the conditioner into my hair.

"Anything," I replied immediately, meeting her gaze as she stood behind me.

"Never say those words again," she insisted firmly, her tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Confused, I furrowed my brow. "I need a little more than that," I asked, seeking clarity on her cryptic request.

"That you're not a turn on," she clarified, her words hanging in the air with unexpected gravity.

A blush spread across my cheeks, and I glanced away, anticipating her discomfort. To my surprise, she met my gaze head-on, her eyes sincere and intense, showing she meant every word.

"Are you flirting with me, professor?" I teased.

"I mean it, Maile," she insisted, the sincerity in her voice underscoring her words. "You are the most beautiful girl I know, inside and out. That's the biggest turn on I can think of. I don't care if your body is flawless or completely bruised. It's your heart and mind that I fell in love with, and that's the only thing that matters to me."

I extended my hand, feeling a twinge of discomfort shoot through my injured arm. "Help me up?" I asked, silently appreciating her steady support.

With a surprising display of strength, Alex helped me rise to my feet, her grasp firm and reassuring. Those FBI training sessions did really pay off.

As I brushed her damp hair behind her ears, my fingertips lightly tracing the wet strands, I drew closer to her. Standing on my toes, I adjusted my position, resting my arms gently on her shoulders, relishing the intimacy of our closeness.

"You, Alex," I whispered, planting a tender kiss on her right cheek, cherishing the softness of her skin. "Are the most," I continued, trailing kisses along her jawline to her left cheek, each touch infused with love and admiration. "Incredibly beautiful woman," I murmured against the tip of her nose, savoring the warmth of her breath against my lips. "I've ever known," I concluded with a gentle peck on her lips, our connection evident in the tender embrace.

This time, I lingered, savouring the tension between us. With deliberate slowness, I teased the kiss, drawing nearer until our breath mingled, and our heartbeats echoed in sync.

"Please," she whispered, her voice barely audible, her eyes filled with longing.

With a grin spreading across my face, I locked eyes with her, my longing reflected in the depths of my gaze. Unable to resist any longer, I closed the gap between us, drawing her into a fervent kiss.

Our embrace was a culmination of pent-up desire, a testament to the depth of our affection and the strength of our bond. With each movement of our lips, a surge of passion engulfed us, igniting a flame that burned with undeniable intensity. As our tongues intertwined in a sensual rhythm, every touch sent shivers down my spine, every sensation heightened and electrifying.

In that fleeting moment, it felt like the world around us faded away, leaving only the two of us entwined in a whirlwind of emotion and longing. Our bodies melded together, united in a transcendent display of love and desire. And as we reluctantly parted, breathless and exhilarated, I knew deep within my heart that our love would only continue to flourish, boundless and everlasting.

After the shower, as I settled into the plush cushions of the couch, Alex entered the room with a freshly delivered box of pizza in hand. With my restrictions on alcohol, she had opted for tea, choosing to share in my sobriety rather than indulging in a drink herself. It was a simple gesture, but one that spoke volumes of her thoughtfulness.

I took a slice of pizza, savoring the comforting aroma that wafted from the box before turning my attention back to Alex. "Aren't you scared?" I ventured, my curiosity piqued by the complexities of forming relationships in a high-risk profession like hers.

Her response was measured, tinged with a hint of apprehension. "It's crazy scary," she admitted, her gaze thoughtful as she considered her words. "Connections are liabilities."

I nodded slowly, acknowledging the truth in her words, though the gravity of her admission hung heavily in the air. The realization of the risks we faced in our line of work lingered between us, casting a somber hue over our conversation.

"Is this your way of telling me you want out?" Her question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications, as she avoided meeting my gaze, perhaps fearing the vulnerability that lay within the depths of my eyes.

I chuckled softly at her candidness, reassured by the honesty in her response. "Alex, I will tell you as often as I need to, or actually as you need to hear," I assured her earnestly. "I am in, I don't want out. You are it for me."

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate as she exhaled a breath she had been holding, her expression softening with relief. "Okay," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude. "But now that we're talking about it, I just want to get clean with you. I want you to know everything there is to know about me, in case something in the field ever happens to me and they need all the information they can get. And..."

Her words trailed off, and I could sense the weight of the unspoken thought hanging in the air between us. With a gentle understanding, I finished her sentence, my voice steady and unwavering. "And you need to know everything about me as well, in case something happens to me. Got it."

Following my abduction to Alabama, Alex embarked on a remarkable journey of academic achievement and professional success. With unwavering determination, she pursued a double degree in Berkeley, followed by her master's and a prestigious PhD. Her tenacity and intellect catapulted her into the FBI, making her the youngest recruit of her time. However, her ascent was not without its challenges. A harrowing setback in a high-profile case, where she was unjustly undermined by a colleague, delayed her entry into the BAU, casting a shadow over her career trajectory.

As she shared the intricacies of her past relationships, I found myself navigating a landscape of mixed emotions. While part of me hesitated to delve into the details, I discovered that her romantic history was far more nuanced than I had anticipated. There were fleeting encounters and meaningful connections, including a significant relationship with a girlfriend and later, James. Each chapter revealed a facet of Alex's journey, shaping her into the resilient and empathetic woman I knew.

Her bond with her team resonated with profound significance. They were more than colleagues—they were her confidants, her pillars of support in the tumultuous world of law enforcement. Beyond the confines of work, she cherished friendships forged during her time in Berkeley and maintained connections with colleagues at Georgetown, underscoring the importance of community in her life.

As the conversation turned to my own narrative, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of reluctance. It was a part of my life I hadn't revisited willingly, and I harbored doubts about how Alex would receive it. After all, it wasn't the most uplifting of tales, and I had assumed she wouldn't relish delving into the darker corners of my past either.

"Well, after we moved to Alabama, I stopped talking to my father. That exact day to be precise." The words spilled from my lips with a mix of resignation and lingering resentment.

The memory was etched vividly in my mind, a testament to the deep-seated emotions it stirred within me. "I was so mad at him. He never tried making amends."

It was a decision born out of necessity, fueled by a tumult of emotions ranging from anger to profound disappointment. And yet, there was a sense of liberation in severing ties with the source of my anguish—a freedom I had long yearned for.

"Got him to sign my emancipation papers on my 16th birthday. And that's the last I saw of him." The weight of those words hung heavily in the air, carrying with them the echoes of a fractured relationship and the bittersweet finality of closure.

Her gentle touch brushed against my leg, a subtle gesture of comfort amidst the weight of my revelations. "How'd you pay to live somewhere else?" Her inquiry was tinged with genuine curiosity, a testament to her willingness to navigate the complexities of my past.

That's the question I'd hoped I didn't have to answer.

My response came with a heavy sigh, a prelude to the unpalatable truths I was about to unveil. "Yeah... That's not exactly the most admiring worthy story." The admission was accompanied by a hint of self-deprecation, a reflection of the insecurities that lingered beneath the surface.

"I'm sure it'll be fine." Her reassurance was a beacon of light in the midst of my uncertainty, a reminder that despite the shadows of my past, there was hope for redemption and acceptance.

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, the weight of my confession heavy on my shoulders. With a deep breath, I resolved to lay bare the truth, no matter how unsavory it might be.

"I couldn't exactly afford a place yet," I began, the words emerging with a sense of reluctance. "I was still in school and barely had any time to work." The admission hung in the air, a stark reminder of the precariousness of my situation. "I used the time I didn't spend studying for A's on flirting with guys so I'd have a place to sleep." It was a strategy born out of necessity, a desperate bid to secure shelter in the absence of financial stability.

"I didn't want anyone from my school, because that'd be too many strings. So, I got a fake ID and picked them up from bars..." The confession trailed off, each word laden with a mixture of shame and resignation. "One lasted me usually about three to four days. Over a period of two years, anyway you can do the math."

The silence that followed was deafening, the gravity of my words hanging palpably in the air. Alex's reaction was subdued yet palpable, her usual composure momentarily shattered as she processed the extent of my revelation. Her foot lay still against my leg, a silent gesture of solidarity in the face of my vulnerability.

"It's bad," I conceded, my voice tinged with defeat. "I know."

But Alex shook her head, her response cutting through the heavy silence like a beacon of understanding. "You had no choice," she asserted gently. "You figured out a way to survive. Even though it might not have been safe, you tried. I think that's admirable."

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 18. battered and bruised

indelible scars, pivotal marks, blue as the life she fled. - Taylor Swift, Carolina

S E P T E M B E R   2 2 N D   2 0 1 1

As I stood before the mirror, I examined my reflection with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. My eyes scrutinized every detail, tracing the intricate patterns of scars that adorned my skin like a map of my turbulent journey. Each scar told a story, a narrative of the challenges I had encountered and the battles I had waged.

In the faint glow of the room, the scars seemed to whisper tales of adversity overcome and hardships endured. Some were stark and jagged, hinting at moments of intense struggle and pain that I could barely recall. Yet, their presence served as a reminder of the resilience that dwelled within me, a testament to my ability to persevere in the face of adversity.

Among the scars, the ones on my wrists stood out the most, their deep indigo hues a stark contrast against the pallor of my skin. They bore the imprint of my struggles against the restraints that had confined me, each bruise a testament to the desperation I had felt in those moments of captivity. Traces of bruising, fainter but still visible that had encircled my wrists, echoed in the gentle contours of my ankles.

In the bend of my arm, a lone blue speck caught my eye amidst a swirl of vibrant hues. The colors—purples, greens, and yellows—melded together in a captivating dance, a vivid reminder of the IV line that once snaked through my veins. It marked a chapter of resilience, a testament to my body's fight against adversity.

Around my middle, layers of bandages formed a protective shield over a wound hidden from view. Here, nestled in the core of my being, a bullet had grazed me, leaving behind a scar that spoke volumes of the precariousness of life. They said I was lucky, that fate had spared me by the narrowest of margins.

Yet, it was my face that revealed the deepest scars of the journey I had endured. My once scarless complexion now bore the intricate webbing of stitches, tracing a path from the edge of my hairline on the right to the gentle curve of my left eyebrow, weaving through the strands of hair that framed my face. The split lip, though healing, retained traces of its battle, the bruises lending it an exaggerated appearance of injury.

Dark circles pooled beneath my eyes, a testament to the sleepless nights and ceaseless worry that had plagued the last couple of days, or weeks, however long it'd been. They held the exhaustion worthy of a thousand people.

To further underscore the toll of my ordeal, my underwear hung loosely on my frame, once snug now billowing with excess fabric. The oversized bandage wrapped around my waist served as a stark reminder of the physical toll exacted upon my body, a tangible symbol of the sacrifices made in the struggle for survival. Each aspect of my appearance spoke volumes of the battles fought and the resilience shown in the face of adversity.

I discovered that the wounds cutting deepest weren't etched into my skin but rather embedded in the very fibers of my mind. They weren't the result of visible harm but rather the silent grip of uncertainty and absence that clung to my thoughts like relentless shadows. It wasn't the memory of pain that haunted me, but the void left by forgotten faces—the names and stories of those who I'd spent my time locked up with, now lost in the fog of oblivion.

This cloak of unknowing draped over my existence like a shroud, casting a perpetual shadow of unease. Without recognition, I felt perpetually exposed, teetering on the edge of an uncertain abyss. The fear of being taken, snatched away by whoever had taken me, became a constant specter haunting every moment of my waking life, an unrelenting anxiety gnawing at my soul.

Even amidst Alex's promises of unwavering devotion and protection, the specter of uncertainty lingered. Despite her vows to shield me with all her might, doubts still whispered in the depths of my mind. Though she offered reassurance, the shadows of doubt left me trapped in a state of perpetual watchfulness, never fully able to let my guard down.

A gentle rapping reverberated through the bathroom door, its delicate cadence a soothing balm amidst the turbulent tempest of my thoughts. And then, like a wisp of fragrant breeze, Alex's voice drifted through the keyhole, a tender whisper laden with concern and compassion. "Are you okay?"

In that fleeting moment, as her words hung suspended in the air like delicate dewdrops, I found myself grappling with the complexity of my own emotions. Was I truly okay? The question echoed in the recesses of my mind, its resonance a poignant reminder of the uncertainty that pervaded my existence. Though I longed to offer reassurance, to affirm my well-being in the face of her genuine concern, the truth remained elusive, slipping through my fingers like grains of sand.

I was okay, but I wasn't quite fine.

I didn't want to add to her worries, so I assured her I was okay. Yet, even as the words slipped from my lips, a pang of guilt prickled at the edges of my conscience—a silent acknowledgment of the burden I carried, knowing she cared.

As I draped myself in the hospital gown, its sterile fabric a stark reminder of my vulnerability, I felt the weight of uncertainty settle upon me like a heavy shroud. With trembling hands, I struggled to tie the gown's intricate knots, the task made all the more challenging by the soreness of every inch of my body.

With a soft chuckle that cut through the quiet of the room like a gentle breeze, Alex offered her help, her voice a soothing salve for my troubled soul. "Come here, let me help you."

As I turned to let her help with the tangled gown clinging to my back, I sensed her gaze on me—a quiet observer of the scars etched into my skin, each one a reminder of the battles I had fought and survived. In that vulnerable moment, I dared to lower my defenses, allowing her a glimpse into the depths of my pain.

"Is it bad?" I asked tentatively as I heard her breath hitch. Despite the doubts swirling in my mind, Alex's response was swift and steadfast.

"It's alright," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody that reached into the depths of my being. "It'll be okay, I promise." Yet beneath her comforting words, I sensed a hint of uncertainty lingering.

A delicate shiver ran down my spine as Alex's fingers gracefully worked to tie the gown. Her touch was gentle, yet it sparked a cascade of sensations that swept through me. The contact sent a wave of goosebumps across my skin, each one a sign of the intense mix of pleasure and pain coursing through me.

But just as I began to succumb to the overwhelming feeling, a sudden spasm gripped the muscles in my back. It was a sharp reminder of my body's vulnerability. With a gasp, Alex pulled back, her face reflecting a mix of concern and regret of what she had just done.

"Oh God, I hurt you, didn't I?" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with remorse. Her eyes met mine, pleading silently for forgiveness, and I felt a pang of sympathy.

I turned around and reached out to her, my fingers trembling as they brushed against her shoulders. "Alex, it's fine," I reassured her, trying to calm the storm of guilt that clouded her expression.

But she shook her head, adamant in her belief that she was to blame. "No, it's not okay," she insisted firmly. "I hurt you."

I held her gaze, feeling the weight of her words. "You weren't the one to hurt me," I countered, my voice firm yet gentle. "Understood?"

Before she could respond by saying she was indeed the one to hurt me, I jumped in, my hand cutting through the air to emphasize my point. "No," I urged, the intensity clear in my voice, "Understood?"

Her reply came softly, a whispered agreement that seemed to hang in the air between us. "Yes," she admitted, her voice barely audible in the vast room.

But I wasn't satisfied with a simple acknowledgment, not when the truth was so crucial. "Yes, what?" I pressed further, urgency creeping into my tone.

"I didn't hurt you," she clarified, her words a declaration of innocence that echoed through me.

"Good," I affirmed with a serious nod, the gravity of my words settling between us like fallen petals. "Remember that."

A hesitant smile played on her lips, a hint of uncertainty shimmering in her eyes as she absorbed my words. With a gentle release, I loosened my hold on her shoulders, giving her room to explore her own thoughts.

As I settled back into the comfort of my hospital bed, I watched her closely, noticing the subtle shifts in her expression as she delved into her inner world. "Penny for your thoughts?" I inquired softly, inviting her to share her thoughts with me.

Turning her attention towards me, Alex took a seat beside my bed—a silent guardian watching over our intertwined destinies. The chair had become hers in this hospital room—a promise she would not leave my side.

"I was just wondering," she started, her voice carrying a soft note of uncertainty as she edged toward her own vulnerability, "if you remember anything from the days you spent in the shed."

A wistful sigh slipped from my lips, laden with the heaviness of unspoken yearning as I succumbed to the relentless current of lost recollections. "I don't much," I admitted, my words fragile in the vastness of the sterile room. "There are glimpses, but it's fuzzy. I don't really remember."

With a feeling of acceptance, I looked around the plain walls of the room, its starkness providing little comfort in the face of my own uncertainty. In this clinical space, there was little that felt personal—except for the two of us and a lone photograph resting on the small table beside my bed. It captured a moment frozen in time, a scene captured by Alex's skilled eye—a reminder of the closeness that bound us together amidst the chaos.

In the photo, we relaxed in a hammock, with only 'The Catcher in the Rye' to keep us company in the tranquil stillness. Yet, as I studied the image of our intertwined forms, a sense of emptiness crept over me—a quiet acknowledgment of the absence lingering on the edge of my consciousness.

"I've got a feeling I wasn't alone," I whispered, my words hesitant as I confessed the uncertainty swirling in my mind. "Someone else was there."

A soft smile touched Alex's lips as she confirmed my suspicions, her voice a comforting presence in the quiet of the room. "Yeah," she nodded, her words carrying a weight of truth. "James and Ira were there too."

In the depths of my thoughts, fragmented memories stirred, like whispers in the dark, teasing at the edges of my consciousness. Images of James flickered into view, his figure held down by restraints like my own—a silent witness to the turmoil of our shared confinement. Yet, unlike my own memories, his face remained untouched by the violence that marked my own. It was a detail that tugged at my thoughts, a puzzle piece waiting to be fitted into place.

"Is he okay?" I asked cautiously, my voice barely audible amidst the uncertainty that surrounded us. My concern for his well-being weighed heavily on my mind, a silent plea for reassurance in the midst of my own turmoil.

Alex nodded in response, her expression tinged with sadness that echoed in her voice. "Physically, he's fine," she confirmed solemnly. "But his pride took a hit after he realized he was engaged to a lunatic."

Confusion clouded my thoughts as I tried to process her words. Seeing my bewilderment, Alex offered an explanation, her tone gentle and understanding. "He was engaged to Ira," she clarified, her words carrying the weight of revelation. "The woman who held both of you captive."

After she told me, I felt like a dam broke inside my mind, and all these jumbled memories rushed out. Each one felt like a piece of a giant puzzle, showing bits and pieces of what we went through together. But there was this one big gap, like something important was missing.

"I never remembered a woman being there," I admitted, still trying to wrap my head around what Alex had just said. In my head, I kept going over those memories again and again, hoping to find something that would trigger more.

"It'll come back to you," Alex comforted me, her words a small light in the darkness of my confusion.

I looked at her, feeling a mix of worry and acceptance. Her words felt like they carried a lot of weight, lingering in the air like a thin trail of smoke disappearing into nothingness. "Should I want it to?" I questioned out loud, my voice barely audible in the quiet room.

She paused, deep in thought, trying to figure out how to answer my question. But before she could say anything, the sudden arrival of someone else broke the peaceful atmosphere we had.

As the figure stepped into the room, my whole body tensed up automatically. It's like some primal part of me, learned from all the bad stuff we've been through, kicked in. I was scared, really scared, every sense on high alert, warning me that something might go wrong.

Alex glanced at the newcomer, her face showing the same fear I felt as she checked out this unexpected visitor. But when she turned back to me, her touch kind of calmed me down, taking the edge off my anxiety. Still, I couldn't shake off all the emotions swirling inside me.

"Take it easy," she said softly, her words like a warm hug, easing my nerves. Her hand slipped into mine, her fingers intertwining mine, a silent message that we were in this together. "Maile, meet Special Agent Derek Morgan."

As the fear slowly faded away, I could feel the shaky nerves calming down, like when the fog clears up after sunrise. I gave a hesitant smile and reached out my hand, trying to show that I was sorry for freaking out earlier. "I'm sorry about that. I don't know what came over me," I said, my voice still a bit unsure. "Hi, I'm Maile."

Derek took my hand gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze that helped ease my lingering anxiety. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm Derek," he said, his voice like a comforting melody in the air. "Alex told me a lot about you."

I couldn't help but smile a little at that, feeling a warmth spread inside me from his words. "All good things, I presume," I remarked, a playful twinkle in my eye. "Any other thing she told you, lies."

Derek let out a hearty laugh, filling the room with a sound like distant thunder. "All good things," he said, nodding with a smile that made his eyes crinkle at the edges with amusement. Then, turning to Alex, he got serious. "Sorry to break it to you, Blake, but we've got a case."

Alex didn't hesitate for a second. Her response was quick and strong, showing her determination in the way her jaw tightened and her eyes blazed with intensity. "I'm not going," she said firmly, refusing to budge in the face of duty.

I looked at her, feeling a mix of surprise and respect for her resolve. Her decision weighed on me, but in the midst of it all, a thought popped into my head, a brief distraction from the chaos of the moment.

"Seems like it," I told Derek, my voice a gentle reminder of the bond between Alex and me. Then, I turned to Alex, asking for a small favor to lighten the mood. "Hey Alex, could you grab me some jello?"

With a nod of appreciation, Alex got ready to leave for the errand. Her readiness to help showed how caring she was. "Sure thing. Anything else?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of worry.

I shook my head, smiling softly to show I was okay. "Nope, just jello for now. But make sure you grab something for yourself too. You've got to eat," I said, reminding her to take care of herself in the midst of everything going on.

She responded with a playful eye roll and a laugh, understanding the underlying message in my words. With one last look at me, she got up and left, leaving me with Derek and the thoughts forming a plan in my head

As Derek confirmed that Alex was on her way out with a nod, I saw my chance to put our plan into action. My mind raced with thoughts as I spoke up, urgency lacing my tone as I laid out the details of what we needed to do.

"Okay, when do you guys leave?" I asked, eager to get things moving.

"Tomorrow morning, 6 AM," Derek replied, his voice steady, like an anchor keeping me grounded amidst the chaos of my thoughts.

"Excellent," I said, satisfaction creeping into my words. "She'll be asleep here. So, around 5 AM, come by. Bring someone else if you need to. Come take her while she is asleep."

Derek looked at me, a flicker of surprise crossing his face as he absorbed my plan. "You've done this kind of thing before, haven't you?" he asked, a hint of admiration in his voice.

I shook my head, a bittersweet smile forming. "No, not exactly," I admitted, feeling the weight of uncertainty between us. "Anyhow, she sleeps deep. I've noticed. So, it shouldn't be too hard to get her out without any trouble."

"Hmm," Derek mused, his expression thoughtful as he considered the practicality of our plan. "I'll see what I can do."

As our talk wound down, Alex came back with a single orange in her hand, a small break from the seriousness of our conversation. "They only had one orange left," she told us, her words bringing a bit of relief to the tense atmosphere. "Consider yourself lucky."

But then, her tone shifted. Alex's question cut through the quiet like a sharp knife, her voice carrying a hint of jealousy underneath. "Has he been flirting with you?" she asked, suspicion evident in her narrowed eyes as she looked at me. I couldn't help but smirk a little at her question, recognizing the underlying tension between us.

Turning to Derek, she got straight to the point, demanding answers with an authoritative tone that brooked no argument. "Did you hit on her?" she asked sharply, her eyes fixed on him with a challenging stare.

Derek's response was quick, his hands going up in a gesture of innocence as he tried to reassure her. "I wouldn't dare," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, almost like he couldn't believe she would think that.

Alex seemed satisfied with his answer, her expression softening a bit as she looked at him with cautious approval. "Good," she said firmly, her words carrying a warning that hung in the air, promising consequences if he dared to cross any lines.

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 16. don't keep me waiting

and i'm gon' love you until we're dead and gone, so i'm waitin'. - Bailey Zimmerman, Waiting

S E P T E M B E R   1 9 T H   2 0 1 1

In the aftermath of the terrifying events, time took on a strange quality, like it was stuck between reality and a dream. From the moment Maile was shot to when the doctor spoke, it felt like time was both rushing by and standing still all at once.

Each moment blended together into a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty. There was the rush of adrenaline, the frantic attempts to stop the bleeding, and the anxious wait for news from the operating room. It all mixed together into a mess of pain and fear.

Then, when the doctor delivered the news, it felt like time stopped completely. The possibility that Maile might never wake up filled the room with a heavy sense of sadness and disbelief. It was like a dark cloud had settled over everyone, making it hard to see any light ahead.

"What did you just say?" I could barely get the words out, my voice shaking with disbelief as I tried to understand what the doctor was telling me. She stood there in her white coat, her words hanging in the air like a storm cloud on the horizon, ominous and heavy.

Her initial reassurance felt like a distant memory now, replaced by a sense of uncertainty that left me feeling lost and confused. I struggled to make sense of the sudden change in her tone.

"I know this might be difficult to hear," she started, her voice gentle but filled with a sense of impending sorrow.

But I couldn't let her finish. My heart pounded in my chest as her words crashed over me like a wave. "You said everything was fine," I interrupted, my voice shaking with desperation and disbelief. "And now you're saying she might... she might..."

I couldn't bring myself to say the words, to acknowledge the possibility that she might not make it. It was too painful to even consider, a reality that I couldn't bear to accept.

As the doctor in the white coat delivered her bleak assessment, her words hung heavily in the room, each syllable dripping with uncertainty. Any glimmer of hope we had felt was quickly dashed by the harsh reality of her diagnosis.

"It seemed like everything was going well at first," she started, her tone solemn, filling the room with a sense of sadness. "But the latest test results show that there's been no improvement."

Her words felt like a weight pressing down on me, making it hard to breathe. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the brink of despair with every passing moment.

Just as I was about to stand up, unable to bear being away from Maile's side any longer, Morgan stepped forward to thank the doctor. His gesture, though well-meaning, felt like a betrayal of the pain I was feeling. I shot him a glare filled with anger and hurt, unable to put into words the depth of emotion I was experiencing.

With a calm yet firm tone, he stepped in, his voice a soothing presence amidst the chaos of emotions swirling around us. "You're not helping anyone by taking it out on that woman," he said, his words offering a sense of clarity in the midst of confusion.

His eyes met mine with a deep understanding, a reflection of the bond we shared and the challenges we'd faced together. It was a reminder that, in times of trouble, sticking together was crucial.

"I know it's tough," he continued, a hint of regret in his voice, "but taking it out on her won't change anything. It won't make you feel better, it won't get her to work harder, and it certainly will not get Maile back any sooner."

Each word carried a weight of truth, a reminder that getting angry wouldn't solve anything. It was a call to focus on finding solutions rather than getting lost in despair.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, I couldn't hold back anymore. Emotions I'd been keeping inside since that awful day poured out like a flood. I didn't need to say anything; the pain on my face said it all. Tears streamed down my cheeks, each one carrying the weight of so many memories and so much sorrow.

It felt like a dam had burst inside me, the grief and sadness too much to bear any longer. Each tear that fell was like a piece of my heart breaking all over again.

When Morgan put his hand on my shoulder, it felt like déjà vu. It reminded me of the moment we found out about Maile, a day that seemed like it happened in another lifetime, even though it had only been five days.

In those days that followed, time seemed to stretch on forever. We were lost in a sea of uncertainty and despair, with each moment feeling like an eternity. Emotions ran high, blurring the lines of reality and making it hard to tell how much time had passed.

But no matter how much time went by, that moment when we found out about Maile remained clear in my mind. It was like it had just happened, the pain still as raw as ever.

As tears streamed down my face, the room felt charged with emotion, like something significant was about to happen. It was like my sadness had become a part of everything around me, filling the air with a powerful energy.

I held my breath, watching as Maile's hand moved slightly beneath mine. It was amazing and a little scary, a reminder of how strong people can be even when things are tough.

As if by magic, Maile's fingers reached out towards me, like she was trying to connect with me. It was a delicate moment, full of possibility, as our fingertips touched in a gentle exchange.

Then, everything seemed to freeze as Maile's thumb moved ever so slightly. It was a small gesture, but it meant so much. It was like she was asking for comfort in a world that felt uncertain and scary.

In the midst of the tension, Morgan's keen eyes didn't miss a thing. He noticed a small movement in Maile's hand and felt a surge of hope mixed with caution. Turning to Reid, who was a calming presence in the midst of our emotions, Morgan spoke quietly but urgently.

In a hushed tone, barely audible above the hum of machinery and the soft murmur of voices, Morgan relayed his observation to Reid, his words laden with a sense of urgency. "Get a nurse, or a doctor. I don't care which, but tell them there's movement."

As I looked around the room, I saw Reid spring into action. He moved quickly and decisively, showing a determination that was unusual for him. It was like he was chasing down a UnSub, but this time, the stakes were even higher.

Seeing Reid's sudden change in demeanor brought a rare smile to both Hotch and Morgan's faces. It was a silent acknowledgment of Reid's dedication and the importance of what he was doing. It was moments like these that showed the strength of our bond, even in the toughest times.

In a moment that felt like it stretched beyond time itself, Maile's hand moved again. It wasn't just a twitch; her fingers moved with a graceful fluidity, finding their way back to mine as if they were determined to reconnect across the uncertainty that surrounded us.

In the quiet of the room, with the machines humming softly and voices murmuring in the background, my heart raced. It was a moment I'd been waiting for, filled with both hope and fear that had consumed me for what felt like forever.

With shaking hands, I looked away from our joined fingers and focused on Maile's face. Despite the bruises, her features were clear of blood. It was a relief to see her looking more like herself again, a sign that she had come back from the brink of death.

Then, almost as if by magic, I noticed her eyelids twitching. It was a small movement, but it filled me with hope. It was like a tiny light in the darkness, showing us that there was still life within her, despite everything.

With a gentle movement, Maile's eyelids began to flutter, like she was slowly waking up from a long sleep. Each small movement felt like time itself was slowing down, stretching the moment out as if it would last forever.

As her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. Every second felt like it was stretching on forever, like time itself had paused just for this moment. Then, with a graceful movement, her eyes opened, revealing the depth of her soul to the world once again.

It was a moment that felt incredibly important, like a victory of the human spirit over darkness and despair. In that moment, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, replaced by a sense of wonder and amazement at the miracle that was happening right before my eyes.

With a voice filled with emotion, I whispered her name, a simple yet powerful greeting that held all my love and hope for her recovery. "Hey, Smiles," I murmured softly, each word carrying my wishes and dreams for her.

A serene smile spread across Maile's lips in response, a silent sign of the peace she felt in that moment. It was a smile that showed her strength, a light in the darkness that had surrounded her.

As her smile brightened the room, it felt like everything was bathed in warmth and calm. It was as if all the worries and troubles had disappeared, replaced by a deep sense of peace and acceptance.

Then, with a gentle sigh, she closed her eyes again, the smile lingering on her lips like a promise of better days to come. In that moment, it felt like time stood still, as if the world had paused to admire the beauty and grace that radiated from her.

As the doctor returned to the room, Reid's presence seemed to draw her in, as if his determination guided her towards Maile's bedside. It felt like there was an invisible force propelling her forward, driven by their strong bond and collective willpower.

With a gentle touch, the doctor gently encouraged Maile to open her eyes, her fingertips tracing a careful path across her eyelids. It was like she was unlocking a hidden treasure as the soft light of the room danced across Maile's pupils. Slowly, Maile stirred from her sleep, her consciousness awakening like a flame reignited in the darkness.

Maile let out a soft groan as she was roused from her rest, showing how tired and weary she was. But even in her discomfort, there was a hint of amusement in her response, a subtle recognition of the strange situation we found ourselves in.

In response to her groan, I couldn't help but chuckle, the sound mixing with a sharp intake of breath. It was a moment of lightness in the midst of everything, a reminder that even in our darkest times, there's still room for laughter and joy.

"Welcome back," the doctor said warmly, breaking through the laughter to acknowledge the significance of the moment. Her words were filled with relief and gratitude as Maile's eyes fluttered open once more, marking her return to the world of the living.

As exhaustion washed over her, Maile struggled to keep her eyes open, her eyelids fluttering with the effort. With a soft sigh, she succumbed to the darkness, her voice barely more than a whisper carrying a multitude of emotions.

"Alex," she whispered, her voice like a gentle melody floating in the air, filled with love and longing. In response, I moved closer to her bedside, my heart heavy with affection for her.

"I'm here," I reassured her, my voice trying hard to be a soothing presence in the quiet room. With a gentle touch, I ran my fingers through her hair, offering silent comfort and support.

Despite the weight of everything bearing down on her, Maile's lips curved into a smile once more, a comforting light in the midst of the darkness that surrounded us. Although her eyes remained closed, the depth of her emotions radiated from her, filling the room with warmth and hope.

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye, and I gently brushed it away, my touch soft and reassuring against her skin. In that moment, it felt like time stood still as she spoke those three powerful words that carried immense meaning.

"I love you, Alex," she whispered, her voice a gentle melody that touched my heart. In response, I leaned closer, my breath warm against her ear as I echoed her sentiment.

"I love you too, my beautiful girl," I murmured, my words a promise of unwavering love and devotion that echoed through the room.

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 14. choices choices...

don't wanna know the other side of a world without you. - Ruelle, The Other Side

S E P T E M B E R   1 9 T H   2 0 1 1

Be kind to me my rapping heart I said until the tapping stopped As scars grew faint, yet ache still bore I found myself at heaven's door

Welcomed by a light soft spoken Waiting for the gates to open And guide me to that life next-door To let me wander 'round some more

"Are you lost?" I heard below A voice with sorrow's unmistakable flow From a heart wounded by life's ruthless seethe Pleading for me to follow and find solace beneath

As I stepped over to the shore I wondered where I'd been before "I'll be your guide," the voice did say Unveiling life's secrets in subtle display

"Where to now," I pondered, my spirit unfurled Trusting the voice in this uncertain world In the realm of shadows and stories untold Guiding me through mysteries yet to unfold

"This might not be a pleasure", it said "For your life wasn't all happy 'til end" And deep in my heart I knew that was true There was more than joy that I went through

As I reflected on life's essence, shrouded in mist Recalling just moments cherished, some missed For all that I wished, was to see what life held Upon me and the one that made my heart melt

Beneath the sprawling sky of midnight blue Hand in hand, 'neath the stars, us too "See her smile? It shines like the moon so bright" Silence followed, as I'm pulled from sight

"Why are we leaving?", not wanting to go Still no answer from the voice that had all to know Into a world devoid of her, it led me astray Where I yearned not to linger in love's disarray

"Please let me return," I pleaded in vain But we'd already journeyed far from that lane In the silent void without her presence "You chose this, remember?", the voice did answer

I looked upon a life where her essence had no place A chilling darkness enveloped, a void to embrace No stars to illuminate the lonely track Yet her memories, like constellations, guided me back

My 'Bama' self wrote all that I knew Hoping that one day she'd remember me too "Did she forget about me?" I wondered aloud The voice softly spoke, "In her dreams, you're proudly endowed"

"Why is she not coming for me?", Iplead Then the voice took me to parts I did never see In the silent whispers of memories unknown I witness her essence in life apart from my own

"She found solace in another's embrace," the voice did convey In her loss, a new love bloomed, guiding her way Downward my heart sank, consumed by despair The thought of her with him, too much to bear

"Take me from here", I begged and I pleaded For seeing her this happy had me defeated "Keep on watching", the voice had said Forcing me to watch in dread, their love wither far instead

The voice pushed me further on her life's path Where her days echoed with sorrow's aftermath Witnessing her mourn the absence of him and me Alone, yearning for how things used to be

"One last chapter, this I'll unveil" The voice led me to a room pristine and pale There, by my bedside, I beheld her form Her fingers intertwined with mine, a hope to weather the storm

"The time has come to choose," the voice, stern and bold "End your life's journey or let it unfold" The end of my life or one in fear of losing love's call Is that truly a choice, or no choice at all?

"I'm not ready to cross", I murmured, a whisper Undecided, yet resolute, my choice I consider For without her, my heart's longing voice And chances, too, fall to a silent noise

So be kind to me my rapping heart I said to make the tapping start As scars returned, yet ache no more I walked away from heaven's door