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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 20 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader lies to Spencer.

A/N: Please read the content warnings for this one if you have basically any triggers, lol. This is a very heavy chapter - it is the penultimate climax of the story. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Angst (NSFW) Content Warning: 🚨 IMPORTANT – READ BEFORE READING🚨 This episode covers a number of very dark topics, and should be approached at a time when you have support systems available. Potential triggering topics include: sexual assault, violations of consent, suicide, self-harm, pregnancy/termination, infertility, domestic dispute, fighting, and underage drinking, sex w/ blanket consent Word Count: 11K

MASTERLIST

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Rossi’s house was every bit as extravagant as I had expected. I had come in honestly hoping to be slightly disappointed so I could mock him for it, but, as always, he had to force his appearance to be as unnecessarily elegant as possible.

That being said, I was a little surprised to find that most everyone gathered in one spot - the kitchen. It was only to be expected, considering it was usually the happiest room in the home. That certainly remained true for Rossi. But they were also all gathered there because that was where the wine was – wine that I was not allowed to drink.

Rossi didn’t have a problem with it… Spencer did. Because of course he did. And while I politely declined when Rossi offered me some, anyway, I found another offer a little more tempting. Which explains why I found myself clutching Derek’s flask and draining half the contents quickly enough to remind him that I was, in fact, in college.

And if anyone were to ask, I would simply tell them that we were hanging out in the hall outside the bathroom to have a very deep and secret heart-to-heart about our shared love for a certain mop headed genius. It would have been the perfect cover to use on pretty much everyone except…

“Ahem.”

The sound of Spencer’s throat clearing behind me was enough to cause me to choke, and I quickly tossed the closed flask back to an already giggling Derek as I shouted, “Fuck!” I didn’t even turn around when his hand snaked around my hip. Instead, I just groaned.

“The narc’s here,” I whispered to Derek, but he knew better than to answer.

“The narc?” Spencer balked, much to his friend’s delight.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Derek offered in consolation, taking a swig out of the flask and earning a very defensive glare from my boyfriend. In fact, Spencer seemed downright pissed, which wasn’t what I had been expecting when I agreed.

Oops. What’s the male equivalent of a cat fight?

“Morgan, didn’t you lecture me about her drinking underage a few months ago?” he snapped, grabbing the flask from a more than willing Derek. Spencer sniffed the contents and immediately recoiled, tossing it back again.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he mumbled, shooting a glance down to see me sort of just making heart eyes at the sight of my boyfriend being a stupid level of jealous that I'd been caught in the hallway with another boy.

“How does that make it better? That makes it patently worse,” he argued. Derek might have responded to it, too, if I hadn’t latched myself onto Spencer’s side.

“You’re so cute when you get all stupid and possessive,” I drawled, burying my face in his shoulder in what I think was supposed to be a playful kiss, but actually just ended up being a muffled laugh.

“That,” Derek chuckled, pointing to me teetering back and forth on my heels at Spencer’s side, “That is my cue to leave.” With one final wink, he whispered, “Don’t be too hard on him, Princess.”

Spencer’s angry sigh and entirely stiff posture should have served as my warning, but it was just funny to me at the time.

“They all think I’m the boss of us,” I giggled. “Me! The boss!”

“You’re drunk.” His tone dropped the second Derek was out of earshot, and on intimidation alone, he managed to back me against the wall.

“So is everyone but you. They won’t even notice,” I mumbled, although the more the hallway started to spin, the less I believed that. I'd never been very good at math or shots, and this was a pretty horrible miscalculation of just how much of my tolerance I’d lost.

“You really couldn’t wait a few more months? Or at least until we got home?”

He was chastising me, and I just wasn’t there to hear it. I probably could have figured it out if I’d tried, but it all sounded like sexy nonsense at the time. Walking my fingers down his chest, I paused at his belly before hooking them in his pants and pulling his hips against mine.

“I’m allowed to drink if my daddy says so,” I purred.

Spencer didn’t find my taunt as charming as I’d hoped, and before I knew it his hand was roughly pressed over my jaw. He tilted my head back to look him in the eyes, and I wondered if he could smell the whiskey on my breath.

“Well, I didn’t,” he growled.

I never said I was a perfect person, or even a smart one. And when I was drinking and Spencer whipped out his Daddy voice, I don’t know what he really expected me to do. But apparently, trying to grab his dick through his pants was the wrong move. He snatched my hand away quickly, slamming it against the wall before he continued his little impromptu lecture.

“I’m not rewarding you for this. We’re going home.”

“That’s not a very scary threat,” I deadpanned, throwing my body weight back against the wall.

That lasted about four seconds before he pulled me back to my feet and leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “Just wait, little girl. Just you wait until I get my fucking hands on you.”

I was going to make a snarky joke, to remind him that his hands were surely and firmly already on me, but I never got the chance. We were both too distracted by the very loud and very high pitched squeal of Penelope as she rounded the corner.

“Ah! I saw nothing!” she shouted, covering her face with her hands and refusing to remove them.

“Yeah, because we aren’t doing anything,” I laughed. But then, being the slightly cruel brat that I was, I stuck my tongue out at Spencer before tacking on a completely unnecessary, “anymore.”

“We weren’t doing anything before either!” he squeaked back. He wasn’t using his Daddy voice anymore. So swiftly, so easily, he’d been knocked from his higher footing.

Penelope took the words to heart, but only enough to slowly lower her fingers and peek between them. With a shaky voice and an awkward laugh, she started to rant. “Oh. It’s fine. I’m cool. We’re all cool. We don’t have to talk about that thing from the first time I met you ever again. Because we said we’d never talk about it again, do you remember that?”

“I do remember that,” I answered with a very sarcastic tone and a nod.

“And I just brought it up again, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” I whispered, “Yes, you did.”

“I’m so sorry. Spencer, Hotch is looking for you,” she rushed, turning to the beet-red boy at my side. “Okay, that’s it. Take your time, because I’m cool and not at all mortified.” She was basically already gone before she'd even finished talking, taking off in the direction she'd come from while downing the drink in her hand.

With a loose, clumsy wave I shouted back, “Bye, Penelope.”

“Mortified is a good word. An accurate word,” Spencer huffed as he wiped a hand over his face. His bashfulness, while cute, was not as exciting as the pre-Penelope behavior.

Running my hands underneath his blazer and up his back, I pressed my chest against his. “Gosh, Dr. Reid. You need to be more appropriate in such a public setting.”

The words, while meant to get him riled up, did more to frustrate me. My drunken mind was more than happy to revert to the metro, and before I knew it, my daydreams were filled with images of Spencer stuffing me into the tiniest closet he could find and having his way with me.

“Oh, I’m the one lacking manners?” Spencer chuckled as he apparently read my very lewd thoughts. He pried my arms off of him and pulled them back to rest at my sides before pressing a strangely chaste kiss on my forehead. “Go get your stuff. I’m going to go talk to Hotch and I’ll meet you by the door.”

Before he disappeared around the corner, he shot me one last warning glance and ordered, “Do not mingle!”

“Don’t worry, I will!” I yelled back.

Once he was gone, it was my job to figure out how to make my body work again. Luckily, it wasn’t the first time I’d had too much to drink in a room filled with drunk adults. Granted, they usually weren’t all cops, but, whatever.

Turns out, it somehow made it easier. I managed to grab my things off the counter without alerting anyone except Penelope, who quickly turned back around with a blush. She probably figured I was gonna go blow him in the bathroom or something. I’d have been offended if the thought hadn’t literally just crossed my mind. I made it all the way to the door before I heard it. Back through the halls, a few of the group had separated to talk about how much harder it had been to see Hotch and JJ. It was nothing, just a little bug spreading through daycares like wildfire. That wasn’t what upset me, though.

No, the thoughts running through my head were more than just a passing thought of kids sick with a cold. I looked up at the walls of the entryway to Rossi’s home and saw intricate moulding and nothingness. I saw the exquisite, pristine rug underneath my feet, and I thought about how lonely it felt.

I was standing in a house that should have felt happy, filled with friends and family and love. There was no doubt that everyone who was there wanted to be there, and probably had nowhere else they’d rather be. But the tall ceilings and thousands of square feet felt so goddamn empty.

It isn’t the building, I heard a tiny, terrified voice call out from inside my own conscience.

It’s you. You’re empty.

I had to leave. I had to get out of the house. I had to hear the silence so that the nothingness would feel more appropriate and less noticeable. I couldn’t let them see me, because if they saw me, they would know. They would know that I was nothing but a husk of the girl they used to know. Without even thinking, I threw the door open, stumbling forward and almost falling flat on my face as I misjudged the small step down to the patio.

“Fuck!” I muttered, the world rocking around me with a stubborn persistence. If it weren’t for the frankly freezing temperature, I was sure I would have been sick. To make matters worse, there was a person quickly approaching.

“Hey, are you and Spence leaving already?”

It was JJ. Thank god, it was JJ. Probably the only person who wouldn’t make fun of me for being a mess on Rossi’s steps after only a few shots of whatever Morgan was drinking.

“Oh. Hey, JJ. Yeah. He’s…” I turned to my side, half expecting Spencer to be there to answer for me. But he wasn’t, so I ended up just pointing to the closed door before slurring, “he’s doing a thing.”

She was, per usual, very kind when faced with my buffoonery, and just laughed as she shook her head. “A thing. Sounds like him.”

I honestly thought that would be the end of it. It was a good, easy segue into a farewell. She already knew we were leaving, and she knew Spencer well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave me alone for long.

And I think she almost did leave. She almost walked right past me and into the warmth and comfort of a home filled with family and friends. But she didn’t. She stopped and asked me the one question I was really hoping she wouldn’t.

“Are you alright?”

I didn’t want her to ask because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. Even if I could have managed it, she would have seen right through me in a second. Not only would it have been an exercise in futility, but she would also know that I thought it was worth it to try to lie.

So, I was honest… quite possibly too honest.

“No, not really. But it’s a lot and I’m kind of drunk, so…”

The mom eyes appeared so quickly, with JJ’s body turning entirely away from the door and over to me. “Not usually a good combination, but an understandable one,” she softly replied, wrapping her arms around herself to make up for the fact that she was sacrificing her comfort in many different ways to talk to me, instead.

She was probably just being nice— staying with me until Spencer could come take over the babysitting of the drunk twenty year old, but I wasn’t exactly thinking critically at the time. Which is only part of the reason why I blurted out the only thing on my mind; the thing that had been haunting me for longer than I wanted to admit even to myself, much less another person.

“Has Spencer ever talked to you about kids?”

The air, still freezing, also fell uncomfortably silent.

“Oh…” she mumbled under her breath, clearly unsure of how to handle that particular minefield of a topic. Especially with her best friend’s girlfriend, who also happened to be drunk. I almost told her to forget about it, but then she looked up at me with a powerful resolve. “Yeah, he has. Why?”

I thought about my next words more carefully, although you wouldn’t have been able to tell considering how much I stuttered.

“Do you think… Do you think he’d be happy if… I can’t have them?” I asked, wringing my hands together over my stomach. “Like, not just happy today, but like ten years from now?” I could hear how desperate I sounded, but I needed someone to hear the words playing on loop in my mind. Absolutely frantic and with tears pooling in my eyes, I asked, “Do you think he’d still love me if I can’t give him kids?”

“(Y/n), slow down. It’s okay!” JJ urged, lunging forward to cup my cheeks and gently wipe away any stray tears. “Don’t cry! You’ll ruin your make up and it looks like you spent a lot of time on it.”

I had to laugh because not only was it my exact brand of humor, she said it with such a serious face that I had to wonder if it was genuinely her biggest concern. Of course, I knew it wasn’t. In her usual JJ way, she just knew the easiest way to cheer me up was with a laugh.

“Yeah, there’s like $80 on my face, it’s really not worth it to cry,” I agreed, sniffling softly when she finally pulled away her hands. At least I could blame that part on the cold.

“Exactly. And if you cry, then I’ll cry, and then I’ll also ruin my make up, and we’ll just be $150 down the drain with nothing to show for it,” she joked with a tired roll of her eyes and a shrug.

Together, we laughed, finding a pocket of warmth in a world that often felt too cold. Behind JJ’s eyes though, I saw an empathy I wasn’t expecting. That small, instinctual part of my brain tugged at my heart, telling me that there was an unspoken bond forming. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know why. I had a feeling that it was one of those secrets you just didn’t ask about, so I let it go.

“Thanks. It’s a stupid thought anyway,” I sighed, shuffling my feet and knocking my heels against the somehow spotless patio. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, so why stress about it, right?”

But then JJ said something I wasn’t expecting. Something that I actually really, really needed to hear.

“I don’t know, I think you’re allowed to be worried. It’s normal to feel scared.”

The sentence hit me like a freight train carrying lead and cement. At first, my brain refused to comprehend it at all. I struggled to repeat the idea, not because I was drunk but because it sounded so wrong. I had wanted it to be true so badly, and here she was, telling me it was okay.

Sensing my simultaneous trepidation and revelation, JJ cringed a bit when she said, “But I think it is a good idea to talk to Spence about it instead of me. Because, to be honest, I’ve also had one too many glasses to be helpful.”

That time when I laughed, it was full-hearted and involved every muscle in my body. “God, I love you, Jennifer,” I said through the noise.

She just shook her head, clearly enjoying the drastic mood swing she’d had a great part in. “I love you, too,” she whispered, running her hand over my shoulder and arm to pull me into a small half-hug. And that was how Spencer found us, giggling and sniffling on Rossi’s porch.

“Hey, are you ready to— Oh! Hey JJ,” he stopped, taking a very hesitant step forward in the hope that we wouldn’t both start crying on the spot. Drunk girls had a tendency to do that. “W-What are you guys doing out here?”

She let me go first, shoving her hand, still damp with my tears, into her pockets with a secretive smile. “Girl talk.”

“That usually doesn’t bode well for me,” Spencer answered with an awkward, nervous laugh. He didn’t make a move to grab me yet, probably too scared to step between the two of us. I was too busy giggling at the thought of his mind cycling through all the possible secrets I might have spilled in my uninhibited state.

I was tipsy, but I wasn’t that drunk.

JJ pulled two fingers over her mouth in a cheeky motion as she whispered, “My lips are sealed.”

“An even worse sign,” Spencer winced, turning to finally wrap his arm around me. He must have noticed the chill on my skin, because seconds later he had me practically wrapped in his coat. “I should just cut my losses and get her out of here, huh?”

“Shut up, old man,” I slurred, cuddling closer to his body heat despite my protests. Even in the darkness, I watched the heat bloom in his face at the nickname. By far, the worst part about the situation was the fact that I couldn’t kiss him, because I just knew he would be so warm, and I was really starting to get cold. I suspect that’s why he started to whisk me away, unceremoniously shushing me as JJ cleared her throat and raised her hand in a wave.

Before we got too far, though, I heard her speak again. “Oh! (Y/n), your questions!”

“What about them?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder and nearly falling to the ground as a result.

JJ looked at me, and then back to Spencer, whose arm was wrapped possessively around me. She smiled a pure, toothy grin that filled her face, causing that weird feeling in my gut to flare up again. She saw something in that moment that I wasn’t sure I’d ever really understand, but her voice started to crack just enough to notice when she called out, “The answer is yes. To all of them.”

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The ride back to Spencer’s place was uneventful, though I tried very hard to make it interesting. After the fourth time he'd swatted away my hand and threatened to throw me in the back, I gave in to his demand to behave. I blamed my compliance on the alcohol, although it was probably more so a result of total exhaustion.

The respite from socialization was apparently what I needed to be able to function again, because as soon as we pulled into his apartment parking lot, I was awake.

... Awake enough to try and maul him in the hallway. But, in his sober stubbornness, he continued to evade my advances all the way until his front door clicked shut behind us. His hands on my hips had never felt like such a victory before.

“Did you enjoy wreaking havoc all night?” he whispered, slowly leading us towards his room. I couldn’t see where I was going, but I didn’t need to. Even without an eidetic memory, my body cherished this path and the memories it always led to. I trusted him to catch me if I stumbled. Which, I definitely did.

“I’m the cutest devil you’ll ever see,” I slurred.

“At least you admit it,” Spencer laughed. I couldn’t tell if it was at my words or the fact that I was failing terribly at trying to unbutton his shirt. My drunk self was not a skilled multitasker.

Once I felt the bed against the back of my thighs, I hopped on top of the covers before he could even try to help me up. It was muscle memory. We’d been there before.

“I’m feeling more fallen angel tonight,” I sighed, sliding against the comforter until I found his pillow.

Naturally, Spencer saw the way I gravitated to his side. He smiled as he removed his shirt that I’d left mostly intact. “By all means, feel free to stay that way.”

I probably should have taken off my dress, or my shoes, but I didn’t. The world sort of felt like a wave pool on a sunny day, and I was worried that if I paid too much attention to what was going on around me, I'd think about something I really didn’t want to think about.

I couldn’t remember what it was.

But then Spencer’s hands were gliding up and down my calves, and I shuddered at the contact. He took his time removing my shoes before coming up to join me on all fours. I wondered if he could taste the whiskey on my tongue when he kissed me. Did it remind him of the circumstances that had brought us together? Did it remind him of his hangover and sins?

Did he think of monsters when he kissed me?

My hands were tangled in his hair, pulling lightly to try to keep him there. And when he pulled away, I tried to fight him. I tried to follow him, scared that once the kiss was over, I’d start remembering things I probably should have tried to forget.

He must have seen the denial in my eyes, because he hesitated. His hand came up to lightly grab my wrist and lead my hand that had a death grip on his hair down to his face. “Are you too drunk? Should we stop?”

Throwing my head back with a groan, I tried not to hate him for actually caring about me again. “If you stop right now, I’m going to actually scream,” I droned. It got me a laugh, at least.

“That doesn’t comfort me in the slightest.”

Once I opened my eyes, I found myself wishing I hadn’t. It wasn’t that I saw hesitancy or fear in Spencer’s eyes – on the contrary, it was the lack of anything bad at all that bothered me. I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but a sincere, pure adoration that I couldn’t argue with.

I chose to ignore it, instead. I couldn’t remember why it made my stomach hurt.

“Are you going to make me do a sobriety test?” I giggled, letting my hands travel down his shoulders and chest. I wasn’t in as much of a rush as I had been earlier. I wanted to take my time remembering what it felt like to be pinned under him and surrounded by his embrace.

“I’m positive that you’ve practiced those while drunk,” he playfully replied while trying to hide the way goosebumps followed my fingers as they trailed down to more interesting territory.

“Yeah, I can say the alphabet backwards and everything.”

It was meant as a joke, but Spencer apparently had some doubts. With a scrunched up smile, he laughed back as he asked, “Really?”

The fact that he believed I was capable of something like that might have been flattering if it hadn't been based on his incredibly flawed perception of my propensity to lawbreaking. But since it was based on ideas of immorality rather than intelligence, it just made me mad.

Smacking him lightly on the chest, I both pouted and laughed as I snapped back, “No, of course not, asshole!”

Spencer just grinned, giving a delayed wince at the offensive contact before he sat up again. I didn’t realize why at first, but as he slowly started to coax me into turning around, I remembered that I was, in fact, still fully dressed. I figured it was either his way of saying that I’d won, or just an excuse to take off the dress so I might actually go to sleep. I was fine with either.

“I was drunk the first night we met, if you’ve forgotten,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side of the bed and moving my hair so that he wouldn’t catch any in the zipper.

“I definitely haven’t forgotten that night.”

The nostalgia in his voice was both comforting and painful. We’d always joked about that night, though. It wasn’t an insult at all.

“No? Do you think about it often?” I replied playfully, forcing myself not to think too hard about whether he wished I was still the girl he'd met that day.

Spencer made it easy to forget, with his hand starting to draw the zipper down while he leaned forward to whisper in my ear, “I think about it all the time.” My breath hitched in my throat at the way his voice warped into a rough, raspy tone. “You almost made me believe that you were just some shy, innocent little girl.”

This time when he got me to turn back over, there was nothing gentle about it. His hands were clearly craving the kind of violence they got to use last time. I wanted to feel them again.

“We can make a new memory if you want,” I panted, looking up at him with wanton eyes and my dress loose enough to expose parts of my breasts to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered at the sight below him. He pressed his erection against my hip as he ran a hand over my cheek. “Tell me the rules.”

“I tell you to stop if I need to,” I carefully enunciated.

“Good girl,” he moaned, starting to rock against me. Struggling to pull my dress off himself, he pleaded in a slightly pitiful manner, “Can I…?”

I helped him, desperate to feel his skin against mine. I didn’t even think about what it meant for my dress to be gone. It wasn’t until Spencer’s mouth dropped to my chest so enthusiastically that I realized that he’d failed to stop and kiss my lips first.

With both hands on my breasts, he lavished each pebbled peak with his fingers and tongue. He hadn’t ever mentioned the fact that he’d missed me shirtless, but it was painfully obvious in the way his lips trailed along my body. It was obvious in the rumbling of his moans against my skin and the way his hands roughly kneaded the soft tissue.

I was forced to remember why I hadn’t let him see me topless.

I felt naked. Not because of the exposed skin, but because I couldn’t warp reality with lace or cotton anymore. My marred stomach might not have made a physical barrier, but it still made him feel so far away. It was a paralyzing kind of realization, and I felt myself retreat so quickly that it hurt.

Thankfully, it was Spencer who was kissing me. If it had been anyone else, I think I would have just laid there, terrified and small and alone. But I couldn’t do that with him.

“Spencer?” I quietly called, and he immediately stopped, his eyes meeting mine with all the attention a girl could ever ask for. I smiled, and the sensation almost felt foreign.

“Come kiss me here instead,” I said with a little giggle, tapping my lips to bring him back to where I wanted him. And he came to me so quickly, his mouth crashing onto mine in seconds and his hands tangling in my hair.

I had forgotten so quickly how easy it was to get lost in him. Thanks to the alcohol, my mind wasn’t able to stick with any thought for longer than a few seconds. Mixing that with Spencer’s hands and mouth, I was never going to be able to think in more than a few words at a time. And I shouldn’t have needed to, right? It was just sex. We’d done it many times before, and it had never been a disappointment. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of mind — some instinctual warning that told me I was doing something wrong.

I wanted him, so what could be wrong about that? There was nothing painful or unappreciated in the way he lined himself up at my entrance, and I certainly made that much clear. It was hard to even hear him over the sound of my own moans, and my nails dug into his shoulder as I guided him into me with my hips.

“I love you,” I cried, wrapping my legs around his waist and digging my heels into the back of his thighs.

“I love you so much, little girl,” he whispered against my lips, his forehead resting against mine.

For a moment, it was okay. The feeling subsided long enough for me to enjoy the fact that Spencer, the man I loved, loved me back. I thought about how long it had taken us to get to this point, and how I never wanted to lose it again. I held onto him for dear life, rocking my hips to meet his and bringing his mouth down to mine.

It was okay, until he spoke again.

“You’re such a good girl,” he groaned into my mouth, “even when you’re being bad you just want to be useful.”

Useful.

The word had come back to haunt me several times in the recent weeks. I hadn’t said anything about it because I couldn’t understand why it bothered me so much. There was no reason for me to be upset. He was just saying what I usually liked to hear.

So why did it hurt?

And I realized then, that the reason that experience felt so horrible wasn’t because of me at all. It was because it was Spencer. It was Spencer, the man I loved. There he was, trying to love me and comfort me and hold me and I…

In a rush of emotions and memories and repressed regrets, I was forced to face the fact that I had made a terrible mistake. The kind of mistake that if I didn’t do something about it in that exact, immediate moment, would become a disaster. The kind of disaster that meant he might never want to touch me again. The kind that would make him hate me. The kind that would make him leave and I couldn’t blame him for.

I had made a mistake.

“Wait, wait, Spencer, stop!” I slurred, my hands that had been holding him close seconds earlier shoving him off of me with the little force I was capable of. It didn’t take much, though, considering how fast he jumped back.

Frantic and terrified, he grabbed my face and tried to inspect my eyes that were avoiding him. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t look at him. “No, I just really need to stop,” I muttered, my breath picking up even more as I slid away from him, “Can I just— Can you just give me a minute?”

My hands slid over my chest, trying to hide the shame I felt inside to no avail. Spencer only made it worse in the way he quickly grabbed clothing, covering me in his shirt before he dressed himself. He even took the time to find me pants and help me in them, quietly and carefully. Like a doll.

I was going to be sick.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he croaked brokenly while he curled up at my side, trying to wrap his arms around me before he realized I was shrinking away from his touch. He was so confused. He had no reason to know what was going on, but I could see on his face that he was desperately trying to figure it out.

“Does this have something to do with what you were talking to JJ about?”

An interesting question. I didn’t know the answer.

“Yes. No? Maybe. I guess?” I ran a hand over my face that landed on my throbbing temple. The lack of tears on my face almost surprised me. I probably should have been crying, but I wasn’t. In a way, it felt like I had no tears left to give. When I turned to him, bile rose in my throat and I was afraid that I might choke on it if I didn’t get the words out faster. I just had to tell him. He needed to know.

“Listen, I lied to you. And I need to say something.”

I had just gotten my breathing under control, just in time for his to go erratic. His pulse was visible in his throat as he swallowed. “Lied to me? About what?”

“I…” The world was rocking, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or my brain trying to comprehend my own self-destructive stupidity. I knew which one I was going to blame, though. “Fuck, I didn’t think I was this drunk.”

“What did you lie to me about?” he repeated, his hands gripping handfuls of the sheet in hopes of stopping the rest of his body from trembling.

“Well, I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you.”

It was the most useless clarification, and it did absolutely nothing to appease his concern. The longer the words stayed stuck and muddled in my mouth, the more devastated he seemed. In hindsight, I would realize all the millions of awful reasons his mind must have been feeding him in the absence of the truth.

“Please, whatever it is, just tell me,” Spencer begged with a hesitant, shaky hand coming to rest on top of mine. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. Instead, we both looked down at our hands. It was a mercy and a disservice. I just had to tell him, but I couldn’t convince myself to do it without looking him in the eyes. That didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful that he didn’t look back, though. Because once the words were said, there would be no going back from them.

He was going to hate me.

“I… stopped taking my birth control,” I whispered in a voice that felt so foreign. “Like, a while ago.”

Spencer’s jaw steeled, his eyes widening and shooting up to me with the same speed he used to jump off the bed. Despite my efforts to grab him, to stop him from leaving me, he was five feet away in a matter of seconds.

“What?!” he shouted. It was the loudest I’d ever heard him. Even the echoes felt deafening, and my hands covered my ears with a wince.

“Shit! That was loud!” I whined in a pathetic attempt to make him feel bad for me. I didn’t deserve it, but I think it worked. Because the next time he spoke, it was at a more manageable volume.

“What do you mean you stopped taking your birth control?! When?!”

“Stop yelling at me.” I pulled my knees to my chest and ignored the pain in my stomach when I did so. It felt well deserved.

“You aren’t joking, either. Why didn’t you tell me this?” Spencer continued, his hands raking through his hair while he started to pace the room.

Nothing about it felt real. I felt like I was stuck in one of my million recurring nightmares. I just wanted to wake up, to be somewhere other than in a room too small for the bass in his voice. I only barely saw him when he finally approached me. He still stayed a few feet away, but he met my eyes that stared vacantly at the wall ahead of me.

“Answer me!”

Whether it was the order that broke me or the pain in his voice, all of my resolve and apathy shattered at once.

“You’ve always said you wanted to get me pregnant!” I screamed back, digging my nails into my skin in the hope of finding feeling there.

“Not like this! Not right now!” he scoffed. The sound would have hurt more if he hadn't stepped closer to me when he made it.

“Why not?!” I tried to sound angry, but all I heard was the plea beneath the words.

I just want to be useful. Please let me be useful.

“Are you serious?” Spencer’s disbelief was present in every ounce of his existence. His hands were alternating between fists and flat palms, his voice cracking and wavering in pitch. “What has gotten into you? You know that you can’t have a child right now.”

I bit down on my tongue in one final attempt to keep the scary words inside. But he couldn’t feel the way his words felt just like bullets and scar tissue that would never fully heal again.

“You almost died! Do you—“ he choked, but powered through his body’s attempt to stop the thought. “Do you understand the danger that would put you in?”

“I know, alright?! I know!” The words were loud and hoarse, and I covered my own ears to hopefully drown out the sound of failure on my own tongue. “I know I can’t have a fucking kid right now!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

I don’t know. Please, help me.

He waited for my answer, but it stayed trapped in my head. When I started to rock in place, my hands still clamped over my ears and the tears I swore I didn’t have starting to fall, he sighed.

“Get up, we’re going to the store.”

“Why?” I spat, sinking further into my spot in a purely selfish manner.

“Get up,” he said again, this time reaching out for my hand.

But I didn’t want to touch him. I didn’t want him to touch me like this. I was scared that if I did what he wanted, then the fight would be over. And if the fight ended, then what would be left? Was this all just some elaborate ruse to get me in his car so that he could drive me home and leave me there?

His hand touched mine so softly, with so much patience and love that it burned. Why wasn’t he angrier? He should be.

“No!” I screamed, smacking his hand away from me. Although I knew it didn’t hurt, I saw him wince at the contact. His lips flattened as he looked at the stupid sobbing girl on his bed.

Then he left. He turned on his heel, and with less patience that time, grumbled the explanation he'd refused to give before. “We’re going to the store and getting levonorgestrel so that you don’t make the stupidest mistake of your life.”

It wasn’t the words that got me to move, but the fact that he was quickly leaving the room. I scrambled after him recklessly, crashing into just about every stationary object in the way. The shock had hit me so hard that I forgot I was still drunk.

“Is it really that awful to imagine having a future with me?” I sobbed, chasing after him just to crash into him when he stopped.

He still caught me, but I couldn’t tell you why.

“You know that’s not what this is about.” He sounded so tired, but he kept going. He kept fighting with me even though I could see in his eyes that it was the last thing he wanted to do. “I love you, (y/n)! But you’re acting like… like a child!”

“Fuck you,” I seethed, pushing myself away from him.

I was scared that if I didn’t force our bodies apart, I would have fallen to pieces in his arms again. And I knew he would try to put me back together again. He would try to help me because that’s what he always did. But sometimes things are just completely, irrevocably broken. Sometimes there was simply no fixing it.

Good luck convincing Spencer of that.

“I don’t need this shit and I don’t need to go to the store,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way back into the bedroom to locate my purse that I’d so gracefully thrown on the floor.

“(Y/n), just because the chances of pregnancy are low doesn’t mean they are nonexistent, and I’m not going to be the reason you throw your life away! You said yourself you aren’t ready to be a housewife!” I heard him rambling from the other room. Eventually, he followed the sounds of plastic packaging and rustling paper.

“Shut up,” I groaned, finally getting the tiny pill free and successfully shoving it in my mouth before I managed to drop it. “Just leave me alone, Spencer.”

Obviously, it wasn’t going to work. After all, I was in his apartment, and currently sitting cross legged in the middle of his bedroom and trying to dry swallow a pill that tasted a lot like every mistake I’d ever made.

“When did you buy that? And why do you have it with you?” He didn’t sound angry at all anymore. He didn’t even particularly sound annoyed or confused, just… exhausted.

“You’re welcome for saving you the drive.”

Of all the things he could have done, he chose the one I expected the least. He came to me, and carefully lowered himself to the ground in front of me. At first, that was all he did. He just sat across from me with puppy dog eyes and an awkward posture.

“Look at me,” he called gently.

“I don’t want to.”

He sighed, waiting another second to catch his breath and let the earlier emotions settle in the air. “You had that in your purse. Why?” he asked as he reached forward to grab the remnants of the torn up box and confirm that it was what he thought it was. Once he was satisfied, he just sounded even more broken. “You’ve clearly thought about it enough to plan ahead, but apparently I wasn’t important enough to have a say in any of these decisions.”

The pain that was forming in my stomach hurt worse than the AR-15.

“Were you just… Just planning on making those decisions without even telling me?” He was on the verge of tears, though he tried his very best to hide it. It might’ve worked if I'd been both drunk and an idiot, but unfortunately the adrenaline was combatting the alcohol pretty well at that point.

With both hands covering his face, I could still see the way his jaw tensed between the words. “It would be my child, too,” he forced out, “You don’t— You don’t get to make those decisions without me. T-That’s not fair.”

The sounds were so pitiful, and I wanted to feel anything but what I felt. I wanted to feel angry or sad again, but I couldn’t. All I felt was hate; the most powerful, soul crushing self-loathing imaginable.

I didn’t want to be the reason he cried. I wanted it to stop, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t control myself. I just kept rubbing salt in the wound so he would leave. So that I could hate him for leaving me instead of hating myself for making him.

“There’s no kid. I would’ve taken it either way.”

That succeeded in getting a response.

“Then what was the point of any of this?!” he fumed, dropping his hands to gestured to the state of us, dressed in pajamas and tears. “If you really believe that, then why tell me? Why risk it at all?!”

“I don’t know.”

“I deserve a better answer than that. That’s bullshit and you know it,” he demanded with an accusing finger.

But I didn’t know that it was bullshit. Really, it was the truth. I didn’t know why I was doing this. All I knew was that if I stopped, if I was just honest with him, I would have to face a reality I wasn’t ready for.

“I deserve the truth,” he said as his hand fell, unable to stay up under the weight of the feeling behind it.

I looked at him and I saw my mistakes in the form of tears trickling down his cheeks and a tremble in his lips. I saw a man who deserved nothing but the greatest love, begging me to give him something to work with. He wasn’t asking me for the world — he just wanted me to talk. To say something so that he could understand why I wanted him to hate me.

I didn’t have an answer. Not one that either of us would believe, anyway.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spencer.” My lips moved without my permission, and my legs quickly followed the traitorous pursuit.

“What does that mean?” he begged me as he followed me. He followed me like he always did, with that suffocating hopefulness that we could make it.

But what if I couldn’t? What if this was it for me? What if, in my desperate desire to push him away, I was saving him from a miserable life with me?

I was trying to save him.

“It means…” I paused, turning to look him in the eyes so that he might finally hear what he needed to in my answer. “It means you should’ve picked a different 20 year old to fuck.”

His jaw finally relaxed, dropping open with a broken breath.

And I think he saw it. I think he saw the way I meant the words from the bottom of my soul. He heard me tell him that he should regret me while I tried to walk away, and he knew that I meant it.

“I’m leaving.” The words surprised me when I heard them in my own voice, but I followed them, nonetheless. I barreled towards the door with bare feet and my keys in my hand.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave like this.” His statements were logical, but that only served to further piss me off.

“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not your property!”

That wasn’t why I was angry. We both knew that wasn’t why. The real reason, the truth behind the reckless self-destruction was approaching too fast and I couldn’t slow it down. Nothing could stop it from rushing down the predetermined path that we stood on, and I was begging him to get off the tracks.

“If you leave right now, you’re going to fucking kill yourself!”

And then it happened. Practically foaming at the mouth with the unhinged rage that had been boiling underneath my skin for too long, I finally managed to let the words go.

“Maybe that’s the fucking point!”

Silence had never been so loud. It had never been that heavy.

“Have you ever stopped to consider that, Spencer?” I laughed because there was no reason in my mind not to. It all seemed so terribly obvious and we’d been skirting around it for so long. Why were we pretending like this was news? Like we hadn’t heard the horns and seen the headlights approaching?

“Please stop.” It was said like a plea but meant as an order. But I never listened to directions and he already knew that.

“I’m not your problem just because you were unfortunate enough to fall in love with me,” I continued, finding a freedom in being able to finally say what I’d been thinking all along. “Put me out of my fucking misery, Spencer. Just let me go.”

“Stop!” he shouted, pulling fistfuls of his hair as his chest heaved with deep, rasping breaths. I’d heard that voice from him before, but only once. The memories were locked away in the part of my brain that I swore to leave locked up.

I was back in the bank. I could feel his hands slipping in blood on my stomach and pressing into my cheeks. I was in the ambulance again. His hands were so warm that they burned, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to leave. I'd had one foot in the grave then. I felt like I was still there, teetering over the edge with nothing but Spencer’s frantic breathing and desperate begging keeping me from jumping in.

“Stop saying that!” Spencer ordered, his hands letting go just enough to come back down on his head with some force. I jumped at the contact and wondered when I'd started feeling his pain, too. I wondered when we'd found ourselves back in his apartment again.

“Y-You aren’t going to die!” He continued. It didn’t have the force of an order or the pathetic breaking of a cry. It was just a statement he was trying to will into existence. An attempt to ward off memories that reminded him he was capable of losing me. He had already almost lost me once. In a way, it was this same scenario.

It was just that he wasn’t losing me quickly from a gunshot wound. No, I was bleeding out in an entirely different way.

“You can’t— I can’t lose you. I can’t do it again,” he sobbed, falling to his knees and not caring at all about the bruises that would follow. The sight of him collapsing in on himself was terrifying, and I realized for the first time the true consequences of my actions. I couldn’t pretend that I was trying to save him anymore. I couldn’t listen to the congested, barely comprehensible ramblings of a man begging me not to want to die and act like I was thinking of him at all.

I was being selfish. How very much like me.

“Please, anything but that. You can hate me forever, but please don’t…” The words trailed off, and I felt compelled to answer them. I needed something to release the knot in my chest and allow my lungs to fill again.

“I don’t hate you, Spencer. I could never hate you.” The words were infuriating in their honesty, but he needed to hear them. He needed to know that none of this was his fault, that he’d done nothing wrong other than meet me.

I couldn’t leave him like that. He deserved so much better than me, but that was all that I had. So, I climbed down next to him, reaching out to him and hoping that he would hold me back.

To my surprise, he did. His hands grabbed mine like they were a lifeline, bringing them to his lips wet with tears. And although he was silent, I could hear the way he prayed that they wouldn’t fade away from him again.

“I-I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you. I’m supposed to be the adult here, I’m supposed to know how to fix these things, but I have no idea what I’m doing, (y/n).”

It was an admission Spencer didn’t often make. The complete helplessness and inability to fix the puzzle before him didn’t just hurt because it was painful to watch, it was also just another reminder of his limits.

One time he had promised me that he wouldn’t let anything hurt me. I should have told him that it was a stupid promise to make then. I should have showed him the skeletons in my closet and the mess in my hands.

But it didn’t matter anymore. He had already seen it, and it was too late. I’d made too many mistakes, and I had to face them. I couldn’t run away anymore. That meant listening to Spencer, pouring his heart out to me and clutching my hands like they would turn to nothing in front of him.

“You’re falling apart and you won’t talk to me. I don’t know how to make this stop hurting. I don’t know how to help you. Sometimes you’re so happy but other times I can see it in your eyes…”

Our eyes met, unguarded, for the first time in what felt like hours but was actually probably only a few minutes. We looked into each other’s eyes and tried to read each other’s minds. I didn’t know what he saw, but I heard the way it struck him.

“Do you… Do you want to leave me?” he asked.

And I realized then, that was what my behavior was leading up to. That was what my mind was racing towards, without ever considering whether it was what was best for me. Because I wasn’t thinking about what was best for me, or what I wanted, or what I should want. All I cared about was the same concern Spencer had for me— I didn’t want him to throw his life away just to be with me.

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

Spencer heard something in my question that brought life back to his eyes. I wished that I could hear his thoughts because he always seemed so much farther ahead. Like he could see the immediate future and knew what would follow.

Then again, maybe I was just idealizing him. I had a tendency to do that. He wasn’t a superhero. He was just a man, trying his best in a world that never really let him rest. I certainly didn’t help with that.

“No. No, that’s not what I want at all,” he said, his hands finding the courage to let go of mine and slide up my arms. He cupped my face with such an urgency and relief that it almost felt the same as before I had uttered those terrifying words. “I told you I want to marry you and I wasn’t kidding.”

It only took a few words for any progress and vulnerability to be obliterated. Four words. That’s all it took.

I want to marry you.

A white picket fence is what I’d promised him. I'd painted a vivid image of us with two children that were just like him. A normal, domestic life is what I’d said.

I hadn't known. I'd made a mistake. I had lied.

“Stop fucking saying that!” I wished the fight would leave my body and let my weary muscles rest, but it kept coming back. Sure as the sun rises in the morning, I couldn’t let go of the hatred. It had to go somewhere, and Spencer continued to be the stupid, stubborn man putting himself in front of me without any defenses.

I don’t think he was expecting that, though. He jumped back at the sound, his hands bracing his fall as I flailed to get away from him. I didn’t have the energy or coordination to stand, so I just let myself fall to pieces on the floor in front of him.

“Stop telling me about this future you have planned for us b-because I’m a useless, idiotic fuck up, and it’s freaking me the fuck out!”

Naturally, the only thing that could incense Spencer more than violating his trust was, apparently, talking badly about myself. Because as soon as he heard the words, he was wound up just the same.

“What are you so afraid of?!”

Without thinking about the words, implications, or consequences, I gave him the answer he fought for. I gave it to him because I couldn’t hold it any longer. I gave it to him and hoped that it would grant me the closure he sought, too.

“That I won’t ever be able to give you a baby and you’re going to fucking leave me!”

Spencer, in all his shock and disbelief, could only utter back a single, exasperated, “…What?” The way the word fell out of his mouth almost sounded like a laugh, the side of his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

“I’m scared that when I stop being useful to you, you’re going to leave me like everyone else,” I explained, my voice as small as I felt in that moment.

But Spencer, in his uncanny ability to predict the future, was trying not to smile. Don’t get me wrong — he wasn’t laughing at me, and the words certainly brought him no joy. But there was something else buried beneath the suffering.

“Come here,” he requested with a sad, small grin and a wave of his hand. When he saw the hesitance on my face, he beckoned me closer again with more feeling. “I want to talk to you. Come here.”

So I came. I came as close to him as I could. And as I practically sat in his lap, I remembered how much easier it was to breathe when he held me, and how much lighter the tears felt when he wiped them a way.

“Why do you think I’m going to leave you?” he asked through a chuckle, like the very notion was so unbelievable that it couldn’t be uttered as anything other than a joke.

“Y-You want kids,” I mumbled, looking down at our t-shirts wet with tears. I played with the hem of his to remind myself that we were both still there. And although Spencer sympathized, he didn’t seem too keen on me looking away at that particular moment. With a gentle finger under my chin, he guided my eyes back to his.

“Okay. So do you, right?”

“Well, yeah…” I paused and pursed my lips and bit down on the bottom one. I waited until he raised his eyebrows in a challenge before I explained. “But what if I can’t have any?”

Spencer’s face scrunched up with his shoulders in a dismissive shrug, “There are other ways to have kids. I’m not worried about that at all.”

Just like that, he’d waved away my fears of inadequacy and failure like they were smoke from an already snuffed out candle. He made it so clear so quickly that biology wasn’t the thing that mattered. That it wasn’t my genetics or physical traits that made him want to share a literal life with me.

Spencer didn’t need me to have his children; he just wanted me to raise some with him.

“Why are you worried about that? Did something happen?” he pressed forward, unsatisfied with the idea that I might still be carrying some heaviness without his assistance.

“The doctor told me that I might not ever be able to have my own kids and I just...”

I should have known better than to doubt the insistence of his greedy hands. They would never let a burden belong solely to me. And I… didn’t want to bear the weight alone anymore, either. The dam was broken, and my heart came rushing out into his waiting arms.

“I’m so tired of it, Spencer. I’m tired of this stupid shit stealing my life away from me. You’ve been taking care of me for months, a-and the way you look at me sometimes-- I can see it on your face. I can feel the way it hurts you just to look at me.”

That hurt flashed in his eyes right then but faded with a swiftness I hadn’t seen in a long time. He didn’t want me to see it yet. One fight at a time, I heard him think. When this shifted load balanced between us again, we could figure the rest out.

First, we had to settle this. It had to end.

“If I can’t give you children, and I can’t... I can’t make you happy then—“

“Stop,” he demanded, his finger coming up to cover my lips. There was no argument to be made at his protest. With a deathly seriousness veiled with bowed brows and a lip that still trembled, Spencer whispered to me, “You can feel however you want to, but you don’t get to decide how I feel.”

Tears welled in both of our eyes, threatening to fall with the other. But they didn’t, they stayed pooled at our lashes and drowned us in visions of haloed lights and blurry reflections.

“I am so happy with you. No matter what. Every second of every day. Do you understand me?”

The only answer I had the strength to give was my surrender. Collapsing forward into his arms, I buried my face into his shoulder. I reveled in the warmth of his chest and the strength of his hands on my back. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek as the deep, joyful breaths he took in came out as relieved laughter.

“I love you, (y/n).”

He must have heard, or at least felt, my soft groan in response, because he peeled me off of him with a smirk. “What’s wrong now?” he asked in an equally tired whine.

“You only use my name when you’re angry or sad,” I grumbled through a pout. It only felt a little silly, to joke about something so stupid minutes after screaming our hearts at each other. We were just so tired, and the finish line was in sight. We just wanted to cross it together, and preferably with less tears involved.

Spencer didn’t say any of that, but I felt it, nonetheless. It was clear in the way he pushed my hair from my face before running his fingers down my jaw. “I use your name when I’m worried,” he corrected. “And you scared me tonight. I’m sorry that you’ve been feeling this way.”

We were toeing the line back into heavy emotions, and I shook my head to ask him not to take me back there tonight. But I couldn’t blame him at the same time. He’d so gracefully handled all of my fears and rage; he deserved a chance to voice his own. They’d fallen so far behind in the race towards the truth.

“I understand you were scared to tell me, but...” he stopped, trying to find a way to explain it without hurting my feelings. He really was too nice to me.

“I know. It was stupid. I feel terrible,” I finished for him. Once my face hit his shoulder again, I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Spencer,” I said with almost all of the energy I had left. He stroked soothing patterns over my back, and after a moment I realized that we’d started to rock. I wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or mine.

“I appreciate your apology, but please promise me that you’ll talk to someone about this,” he humbly requested, his words muffled in my hair.

“Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”

It was almost a joke. Spencer wasn’t going to let it go, though. “Don’t try to be clever with me, little girl. I need you to talk to someone who knows how to help you,” he playfully scolded.

Through a yawn and a chuckle, I pressed on in my attempt to end the night on a horrible joke. “Isn’t that your whole job?”

“Yeah, I guess it is sometimes, huh?” he agreed halfheartedly. Really, he was only trying to give me a little bit of a win. We both knew his job wasn’t very good at helping people before the fact. It was just another poor attempt at avoiding healing. I had been holding on to that anger so tightly that there wasn’t room for us in the space that was left.

“But I think you also know I can’t be that person for you,” Spencer eloquently said, cradling my head as it started to rock with each motion.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, “I promise.”

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, but no matter what, it wouldn’t have lasted long enough. The rhythm of his heart evened out over time, settling into the lullaby I needed to finally find some rest. But realistically, we couldn’t sleep there. Spencer was kind enough to practically carry me back into the bed we had shared when this all started, although this time he laid beside me.

From there, he helped tuck me in and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. My eyes were closed, but the smile that spread over my cheeks was enough of a signal that I was still awake.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

My bloodshot eyes opened at his call, and I found love staring back at me. I knew he could see my eyes bouncing back and forth as I tried to see all of it at once in his eyes, and I didn’t care. Even when he kissed me, neither of us closed them.

“We don’t have to worry about anything,” he said as our mouths broke apart. His thumb swept over my cheeks to all the places I knew he was thinking about kissing. There was a very poor attempt to hide his smile at the thought of the future, but I appreciated the effort he put in.

“When you’re ready to try to have kids, I’ll be right there with you,” he said.

It was clear that Spencer really wanted it to be a meaningful sentiment, but I was still a little bitter at his failure to laugh at my previous terrible jokes. So when I saw the opportunity, I took it swiftly and with no regrets.

“I sure hope so, or else I don’t think it’ll work,” I muttered through the side of my mouth before turning onto my back.

Spencer’s first carefree giggle of the night was my prize, and I couldn’t have loved it any more. “That’s my little girl,” he cooed, curling up against my side and wrapping a possessive arm over my chest.

Just before my eyes fluttered shut, I saw movement below my face. I kept them open long enough to see his pinky presented to me and a knowing look in his eyes. “Everything will be alright as long as we have each other,” Spencer offered.

And despite our bad history with promises, I had no reasons left to doubt that one.

—————————————————

| Part 21 |

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #h2m #spencer reid self insert #angst #smut

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the-bau-quinjet · 4 years

Text

You can’t be gone, no

Chapter 13 of In Breakable Heaven! I would like to apologize for how long this took! I was really buys with work this week, but I’ve got the next chapter almost done already so it shouldn’t take too long.

Summary: A bit of aftermath of the show, plus the show from Spencer’s perspective.

Word Count: ~1900

Spencer’s POV

“Hey Spence. I miss you, but you already know that. I’m doing a sort of mini show at 7 tonight. It would mean the world to me if you came… Look, I get it. You don’t want to be with me anymore, but I don’t want you to disappear from my life completely. Not when I need you now more than ever… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not trying to guilt you into coming, I just really want you to be there. For the moral support. The rest of the team is coming, so you won’t be alone. That’s it I guess. Bye.”

He listened to the voicemail on repeat as he made his way to the venue where you were playing your mini show. He had no idea what to expect, but the idea of not supporting you hurt too much to stay home.

After parking and walking inside, he managed to find the rest of the team. Turning to Morgan, he began to ask “hey, do you-” He was cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. Turning to look at it, he recognized the number as his Mom’s doctors. “Oh, it’s my mom’s doctors. I have to take this.” He retreated back outside the venue, answering the call on the way.

It was really a simple call, only took a few minutes, but you had already started when he walked back in. Not wanting to disrupt anything, he took a seat near the back of the venue, shooting Morgan a text that he probably wouldn’t need to go to Vegas.

“…how I was feeling about a month ago. Before everything happened. It was the happiest I have ever been. I had a great group of friends, a job I loved, a hobby that helped me bring some of that joy to you guys, and… a perfect boyfriend. Most of that is still true and for that I am incredibly grateful. Without further ado, here we go!”

His heart hurt to know that he was the part that wasn’t true anymore. He immediately recognized the song as it began to play. He memorized all of Taylor Swift’s songs in the months he’s spent with you in your apartment listening to the range of playlists. It’s honestly a good thing he got that call because he started tearing up almost instantly realizing how happy you were when the two of you were together.

I want to drive away with you. I want your complications too. I want your dreary Mondays, wrap your arms around me Pr-aby boy.

His breath caught in his throat when he heard the slip up. You used to change the lyrics to all of Taylor’s songs to be about him. “Wrap your arms around me pretty boy” is exactly what you used to sing to him. The range of emotion he was feeling surprised him. He expected this to be painful, but not this much.

“Thank you! Thank you! This next song is kind of a complete about face. 180 degrees if you will. Actually” you pause to think, “it’s more like 540 degrees.” He watches as you take in the confused glances from the audience, searching the crowd for someone. “I feel like I went through every emotion possible, returned to where I started, and then was forcefully turned in the opposite direction.”

“Clearly, you can tell why I was so happy a month ago. Paper Rings is kind of obvious in that sense. But, 3 weeks, 4 days, 6 hours, and 27 minutes ago every possible ounce of that happiness disappeared.” He froze knowing that exact amount of time meant your happiness disappeared not when you were abducted and tortured, but after he left your apartment that night.

“ For those of you who don’t know, I recently went through a fairly traumatic event. My good friends at the FBI saved my life. But after I left the hospital with a new found relief, I went home and my boyfriend, well I guess ex-boyfriend, came over.” He could see the tears forming in your eyes even from his place in the back of the crowd, and it only hurt him more.

“He didn’t tell me why, but he broke up with me that night. He said he didn’t want to do it while I was in the hospital, so he waited. I’ve had a lot of time to think it over, and I might know now why things changed. But even if I’m wrong, he left. And now, he won’t talk to me. Now I know what you’re thinking. This guy sounds like a complete asshat.” He couldn’t help thinking that was a massive understatement.

“And maybe you’re kind of right. But he’s been through more than I could even explain, and I know that it is slowly killing him to know that I went through barely a tenth of what has happened to him. Especially because I know he blames himself. So, I have this next song. To try and explain how him leaving is worse than anything that happened in that building. ”

Again, he immediately recognized the next song that began playing. Haunted, especially the acoustic version, was one of the few songs you saved for when you were so sad nothing else helped. He knew how much pain you must be in to even listen to this song, let alone sing it in front of the crowd.

By the time you reached the bridge, he could already feel the tears streaming down his face.

I know. I know. I just know, you’re not gone. You can’t be gone, no

The way your voice sounded like it completely broke when you sang “no” made his heart wrench. He had his head in his hands. He felt completely useless. This kind of pain was the exact thing he was trying to prevent. He didn’t think you would still feel so strongly about him 3 and a half weeks later.

“I know what you’re thinking. What the hell happened to you? Well, a lot. But that song, the first song, and the last song are all to the same person. The one person in the world who understands me more than anyone else. You should all know, however, the ‘he’ I was referring to when I sung ‘he will try to take away my pain’ is none other than my therapist. Thanks for the all the help Doc, I’m trying to do what you said. The last song I have for you is what I wish I had the chance to say that night 3 weeks, 4 days 6 hours, and 33 minutes ago. It’s something I need you to know.”

He doesn’t know how, but he knows you are talking to him when you finish the last sentence. He lifts his head to look at you again as he once again recognizes the song. His favorite line in this particular song was always:

You keep, his shirt. He keeps, his word.

He knows exactly which promise you are referring to this time. And he knows that he didn’t keep it.

You can see it with the lights out.

Before the two of you even started dating, he promised you he would always be there. No matter the time of day.

You are in love, true love.

No matter where he was in the country. No matter what he was doing, he would drop it to help you if you needed him.

You're in love.

And he failed. He left when you needed him most. And he had no idea how to fix it.

“Thank you all so much for coming! We can only hope for and work towards a better future than the present we find ourselves in. Goodnight.”

You’re right. He is in love. And apparently, so are you. All he knows in this moment is that he has to fix things. He has no idea how, but he has to at least try.

Y/N POV

It felt like hours, but it had only been about 15 minutes when you heard a knock on your door. You somehow managed to stop crying and wipe your face before answering the door. You were met with the concerned expressions of almost all of your friends. They rushed in to take turns hugging you with varying degrees of sadness and anger in their voices.

Morgan probably noticed you looking around them all when he said “Reid wanted to come, but something came up with his Mom.” After hearing that, you immediately shifted from your spot on the floor. All you felt now was concern for him. “Is she okay? What happened?” The genuine sincerity in your voice was no surprise to anyone. You have always put everyone else’s feelings above your own.

“He didn’t say what happened, but he said he probably wasn’t flying out so it will be fine.” Morgan responded. The room shifted into silence, not quite awkward, but not comforting either. JJ chose to break it “Why didn’t you tell us what happened? Or even that you were seeing anyone?”

You shifted your gaze to her face from its previous resting place on the floor, you sighed. “I don’t know really. At first, it was because it was like a game between us. We actually had a bet going about which one of you guys would figure it out first. I was actually planning to tell you all at Rossi’s last family dinner, but then with everything that happened it just…” You stopped to force yourself not to cry again. It was killing you that they didn’t know who you were talking about, although they were probably figuring it out as you continued to talk.

“Y/N” you had never heard your name spoken so softly by Morgan before, “what can we do to help? Do you want me to kill him? The team can probably hide his body.” He tried to joke. You managed a weak smile in response.

“No. The truth is I’d rather feel like this in a world with him than be happy in a world without him. I… I was supposed to meet him for dinner that night, but he had to cancel. That’s part of why he blames himself. Or at least I think so. I genuinely haven’t talked to him about it.” Admitting that truth was a lot easier than you expected. You rose from the ground to change the song, knowing exactly which song might help you. Before you could get to your phone though, there was a knock on the door. You signaled for Rossi to answer it since he was standing the closest.

You turned to see Spencer Reid walk into your dressing room. “Hi Y/N” he said in a sad greeting.

“Morgan said you had to talk to your Mom’s doctors, is she okay?” you responded, your concern for your friend’s mom returning.

“Oh, uh yeah she’s fine. They just wanted to switch her medicine again. Thanks for asking.” You nodded in response, not knowing what else to say.

“I think, um, I think I’m just gonna go home now.” You said, staring at the floor to avoid everyone’s sympathetic looks. “I just want to go to bed and hope for the best, ya know?” You began pushing your way through people, your bag on your shoulder.

Spencer grabbed your wrist as you passed him, giving you a pleading look. The tears began to fall again as you looked at him, gently pulling your arm away. You couldn’t do this here. Not in front of everyone. Not when you hadn’t even told them it was Spencer who left you near catatonic staring at your apartment door. You turned and ran to your car before they could stop you.

tag list:

@mac99martin @goldeng1rl8 @eevee0722 @l0ve-0f-my-life @haylaansmi @dinonuggets15 @laurakirsten0502 @green-intervention @burnin-passion @takeyourleap-of-faith @secretpickleprofessordean @awkwardnesshabitat @loveheathens @fan-girl-97 @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @akuri-shinsou @prongsyy @panhoeofmanyfandoms @sherlockmarvelharrypotter @lizziebritish

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader

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gubler-me-up · 4 years

Text

Missing in Action

Request: Can you write a fanfic where Hotch's daughter gets kidnapped and Hotch and his team have to find her?

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! This is my first Hotch request and I usually don’t write for Hotch but everyone needs a lil challenge here and there right? I’ve decided to make this a two parter because I love suspense and since they asked for a fanfiction imma give them a fanfiction. Hey, it might even be three parts who knows? Hopefully y’all enjoy it, I’ve watched a lot of The FBI Files lately so I’m adding a ~sprinkle~ of that in here as well. I was very nervous while writing this but hopefully it’s decent 😬 p.s. I put y/n still so you can insert yourself as Hotch’s daughter if you’d like or create a name whatever floats your boat

Category: Angst

Content warning: Kidnapping, mention of violence, crime scene, blood

Word count: 2.5k

————-

Hotch packed up his briefcase for the day. He had promised his daughter he would pick her up from soccer practice. He had also promised her and Jack they would go out for dinner since they hadn’t done so in months. He had instructed Jack to meet his older sister at the soccer field after his school book club meeting was over.

He looked at the time on his watch and saw it was quarter to six. The two of them were probably already ridiculing him because of his tardiness. He checked his phone to see if she had texted him complaining yet. There was no notification which caused him to raise an eyebrow. Y/N was usually very vocal about her dad being late when he was the one always telling them about being punctual.

To his surprise his phone started to ring. For an instant, he thought it could have been Y/N calling him but the caller ID said Unknown Caller. He hesitantly answered it, anxious to know who would be on the other line. Before he could even greet the other person on the line, he heard Jack’s voice yelling in a panic.

“Jack, buddy, slow down. What do you mean your sister was taken?” Hotch asked.

The next few words Jack told him sounded unreal to him. His mind couldn’t process even the slightest possibility of Jack’s story to be true. Jack had seen a black car pull up at the corner of the sidewalk where his sister was standing waiting for him. He was just a block away when he saw a man jump out of the backseat and grab Y/N. He shoved her in the back and then the driver sped off.

“Jack, where are you right now? You’re at school? Okay, stay there for now. The police are at the scene right now? Okay, okay, I’ll be there soon. Bye.”

He hung up the phone and for once didn’t know where to begin. His mind was racing in overtime trying to think of who it possibly could be, if Y/N was okay and how long he had to find her. He ran out of his office to go towards the bullpen. He watched as everyone stared at him in confusion as he tried to form the right words to tell them.

Everyone had already packed up for the day and were almost on their way out by the time Hotch came to them. The look on his face was one they hadn’t seen since Haley’s death. They anticipated the worst to words to leave Hotch’s mouth.

“Y/N was kidnapped. We have to act now.”

Every single team member’s face filled with dread as they realized how little time they had to find Y/N safe. With no other words exchanged between anyone they made their way to the briefing room. Hotch let everyone walk in front of him as he still tried his best to comprehend the whole situation.

He felt someone gently touch his shoulder. He turned around to see Rossi looking at him with his famous look of determination. It was visible to him Hotch was in a place of discouragement that he had to break out of if he wanted to get his daughter.

“We’ll find her, Aaron,” Rossi said.

“We realistically only have two and a half hours before the possibility of finding her alive becomes slim. We have to make a move on these sons of bitches now,” Hotch said.

Rossi nodded. “Let’s do it.”

They made their way into the briefing room as soon as Garcia pulled up phone records from Y/N phone. Hotch sat down as he analyzed the screen in silence, checking every phone number to see if there was one out of place. His eyebrow raised as he saw a number he didn’t recognize and it only showed up once in her call log. She had ignored the call and according to the time the call was made she was taken about five minutes after.

“Garcia, can you check if the last number on her call log is anywhere else in her call or text history?” Hotch asked.

“Of course, sir,” she said before searching for the number.

She pulled up a text message sent to Y/N. It was an attachment. It was sent recently which confused everyone considering they already had her in their grips. Garcia went ahead and opened the attachment to reveal the picture. It was a letter addressed to Hotch.

Aaron Hotchner,

Expect a call from us around 7 p.m. You have my word your daughter will be safe until then. It’s up to you to agree or disagree with our demands which will ultimately determine her fate.

“Garcia, can you trace the number?” Hotch asked.

“It’s a burner number from an app. It’s out of service now, but I will trace Y/N’s location on her phone,” she said.

“We have about half an hour to go over possible suspects who could be responsible for this,” Morgan said.

“It seems personal, so it’s more than likely that Hotch and the perpetrator have come into contact. It seems especially personal since they want to call Hotch to tell him what they want from him instead of detailing it in the ransom letter,” Reid said.

“It seems whoever wrote the letter is the leader since he says ‘we’ and ‘our’ but only says ‘my’ when referring to keeping his word of keeping Y/N safe,” JJ said.

“Jack said there were two men who had abducted her but it’s less than likely the leader of the group would be one of the two doing the kidnapping. For now, we know there are three suspects but there could be more. Morgan, Prentiss and Reid will go to the kidnapping scene while the rest of us wait here for the call to come. Please bring Jack here when you’re done at the scene. He’s at school waiting to be picked up,” Hotch ordered.

Morgan, Reid and Prentiss nodded as they got up from their seats. They left the room in urgency as the time was slowly ticking away on Y/N. Hotch didn’t take his eyes off the screen as Garcia did her best to search for the phone. JJ and Rossi looked at him as they tried to remain calm for him. They knew as soon as Hotch found out he had his daughter it would send him over the edge. They wanted to avoid a possible repeat of the Foyet situation.

A map popped up on the screen with a red dot pinging on the location of Y/N’s phone. It was pinging in a lake not too far from the area Y/N. was last seen. Garcia touched her throat as she felt it run dry as she thought of the worst. She looked over to Hotch who was already looking in her direction. He looked calm and collected enough for the whole room.

“Don’t worry, Garcia. She’s still alive, they just dumped her phone, so we can’t trace them. Don’t give in to their fear tactics,” Hotch said.

Garcia took a jagged breath. “Of course, sir.”

“JJ, call Prentiss to inform them to go by the lake just off highway 66. Let’s pull up the street footage to see if the camera’s caught the getaway car.”

————

“Agents.”

Morgan, Reid and Prentiss looked over at where the voice had come from. They saw detective Broderick of the Arlington police department walking towards them. Morgan and Prentiss held their hands out to greet him with a handshake while Reid waved. He walked them over to the area where Y/N was taken from.

The area was riddled with pylons to identify every piece of evidence. They saw there was a trail of shattered glass on the road. Morgan went over to look at the pieces. He took out a pair of latex gloves from his pocket to put on. He picked up a shard to examine it.

“We sent samples of the glass to the FBI forensics lab in D.C., so hopefully we can determine the make of the car that way,” detective Broderick said.

“Our tech analyst is looking through street camera footage to see if the car was caught driving through this area. Y/N must have kicked out the backseat window, so someone could see her. Dangerous move, but helpful,” Morgan said.

“We should also get some of your officers down to the lake off highway 66. Y/N’s phone’s there but there could be other evidence there as well,” Prentiss instructed.

“You got it. You think they’re going towards the D.C. area? Should I send units out that way?” He asked.

“Not exactly. They could have just dumped her phone there and other items to throw us off. They’re most likely still in state because they still have to call Hotch. Whatever exchange that needs to take place has to take place nearby,” Reid said.

“Makes sense. I’ll send some cops down to that area for you.”

As detective Broderick radioed in for police officers to the location of where Y/N’s phone was, Reid noticed something on a piece of glass. He took out his latex gloves to put on before crouching next to the shard. He picked it up and saw what appeared to be blood. Then he noticed another shard with more of the red substance on it.

He called over an officer to give him an evidence collection bag. The officer handed over a bag to him. Spencer put both shards into the bag. As he tried to look for any more shards on the ground that could potentially be evidence, he saw Prentiss walk into his sight. She crouched down close to him but she looked at a completely different area of glass shards.

“I think that might be a partial print,” she said.

“Where?” Reid asked.

She pointed at a shard in front of her. She carefully picked it up to show Reid in the reflection of the dim sunlight a possible partial print. Reid nodded his head in agreement to the fact that it could be a partial print.

“Let’s get this to the lab along with the other shards in this specific area. Maybe we can find another shard with the rest of the fingerprint or even a palm print somewhere.”

———

Hotch, JJ, Rossi and Garcia waited around the round table for the call to come through. They were informed of the evidence being processed at the FBI forensics lab in D.C. for clear identification. They had also been informed that the area where Y/N’s phone was found also had her soccer bag tossed into the river as well. They were still actively combing the area for any further evidence.

Garcia managed to identify the car as a black 2002 Mercedes Benz C Class sedan. The license plates weren’t visible on camera due to the angles they were taken. She didn’t have any success finding that type of car registered to anyone in the Arlington area who had been near the abduction site.

All the information Hotch was receiving was sticking in his mind and he continuously thought of who could be behind his daughter’s kidnapping. He would have honestly rather they have shot him and spare her of any trauma. He swore he would never let anyone harm his family again and it seemed as if no matter what he did nothing protected his family from the demons of his job.

The clock struck 7 p.m. and his eyes darted to his phone on the table. Everyone else’s eyes also followed his gaze. They were anxiously waiting for the call too. They wanted to find Y/N in one piece just as much Hotch did but they couldn’t even fathom the agony he was in being helpless in this situation. His daughter’s fate laid in one phone call.

JJ jerked in her seat as she felt her phone vibrate. Her anxiety towards the situation was heavy for her that it almost felt as if she was in his seat. Her heart still pounded as she looked at her phone even though she knew it was probably only a text from Prentiss updating her about the situation. Which she was correct about but her heart still pounded and her hands still shook from the sudden vibration of her phone.

“They found a tire track, so they’re going to run that by the lab as well,” she said.

Hotch’s phone rang. The sound of everybody in the room taking a deep breath was the only sound next to Garcia typing away as she got ready to track the call. Hotch calmly picked up the phone even as the burning rage inside of him tried its best to come out. He had to resist any hostility during the call at all cost.

“Hotchner,” Hotch said.

“Aaron Hotchner. Glad you picked up,” the distorted voice said.

“What do you want for the safe return of my daughter?” He asked.

“Is this the same guy who doesn’t make deal with people like me? Isn’t that what you said when George Foyet wanted to cut a deal with you? Why the sudden change in song?” The voice asked.

“And look how that turned out,” he said.

“I wouldn’t harm your daughter but if you try to find me as I know your team already is I’ll have no choice to.”

“Tell me what you want and we’ll stop hunting you.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes.”

“I need $500,000 dropped off at 3600 17th street north by 9 p.m. and your daughter will be returned safely to you. She will be in the forest nearby waiting for you. If you deviate from this plan I will not hesitate to inform my partner to shoot her. Are we clear, Aaron?”

“Yes.”

“Do you not want to hear your daughter? It’s chilling knowing you don’t want to know for sure if she’s alive or not.”

“I know she’s alive. You can’t fool me with your fake confidence. You and I know you’re going to keep me playing this count and mouse game until 9 p.m. when you realize you messed with the wrong person.”

“Charming, Aaron. We’ll chat later.”

They hung up without another word exchanged. Hotch looked over at Garcia but she slowly shook her head in defeat with tears gradually forming in her eyes. She wasn’t able to ping a signal to the call.

“I think they’re blocking the signal because I can’t find a tower they’re boun-”

“That’s okay. I have a feeling I know who it is,” Hotch said.

Everyone raised a curious eyebrow to what Hotch had revealed. Though the conversation was short and mainly to the point, Hotch had listened out for a few key aspects. The most telling aspect he noticed made him confident in knowing who it was.

“You know them?” JJ asked.

“Yes. I know from the way they said, “charming, Aaron,” Hotch explained.

“Okay, so who’s the guy?” Rossi asked.

“It’s not a guy. It’s a woman.”

—–

MASTERLIST

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#spencer reid #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #jj #Jennifer Jareau #derek morgan #emily prentiss #Penelope Garcia #david rossi #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #CM #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds request #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner fanfiction

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spencerreidslove · 4 years

Text

Matchmaker

A/N it’s a little long, bear with me. Mostly fluff. Set around season 15

————

Being a 1st grade teacher was the dream job.

Well, most of the time it was the dream job. The days when you had to capture a spider while several screaming 6 and 7 year olds run around behind you weren’t the best.

It was your second year of teaching 1st grade and it was the second day of school. After the spider fiasco, you were a little tired, and as much as you loved your students, dismissal was also a good part of the day.

All the students filled out of your classroom, and you turned away from the door to see that not all of your students had left.

There was a girl, with curly brown hair and wide eyes still sitting at her desk. She was frowning and clutching a stuffed bunny.

You were still learning names, and you were 90% sure you knew her name. Margaret Reid.

You took a chair off the desk in across of hers and sat beside her.

“Margaret?” You asked. “Did you hear me? I said you could go get picked up now.”

“I know.” She mumbled.

Margaret didn’t seem to want to say more.

“Who normally picks you up?” You asked.

“My daddy. If he’s not here than my Uncle Derek or Mrs. McComb who lives next door.” Margaret timidly replied before hugging her bunny tighter.

“Do you know where your daddy is?” You asked. If she needed to be somewhere you had to be sure to get her there.

“He’s late. My daddy works for the FBI. That’s like the police but better.” She said.

You smiled. Margaret seemed shy and not willing to say much else.

“Really? Than he must be really smart. Just like you.” You said.

“My daddy is really smart. He’s a docta but not the kind you go to when you get sick. He’s read like a bajillion books and knows everything. He named me after a really smart girl who made it so we could go to the moon.” Margaret said.

Apparently asking about her dad was one way to get her to open up.

“What else?” You asked.

“He remembers everything. All the time. It’s a e-something memory.” She said.

“He sounds very nice. But if he’s late I’m going to need to know.” You said.

Margaret frowned and then snuggled half her face back down into her stuffed rabbit.

“What about your bunny?” You asked, touching the toy’s nose.

“Her name is Lily. Can she sit with me please? In Kindergarten my teacher said she had to stay in my bag all day.” Margaret said, hugging the plush toy closer.

“As long as she doesn’t distract you and you can get all your work done.” You said.

“Lily helps me with my work. She’s really smart.” Margaret said.

“Since your daddy’s late I’m going to have to call the office and see what we can do. Would you like to draw a picture while you wait?” You asked.

Margaret nodded. You went over to the drawers where you kept the crayons and paper and brought her back a box and a couple pieces of paper. You turned back to your desk, about to call the office, then-

“Miss Y/L/N?” Margaret said.

“Yes sweetheart?” You said.

“Can you please call me Maggie? Only my Uncle Hotch calls me Margaret.” She said, not looking up from her drawing.

“Ok.” You said.

You called the office and five minutes later, a tall, lanky man with wild curly hair came into your classroom. He was wearing a white button up shirt with a dark blue sweater vest over it and and dark jacket.

“Daddy!” Maggie said, jumping up from her seat and giving him a hug around his legs. He laughed and picked her up, giving her a kiss on the cheek. Maggie took Lily and made her give her father a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” Maggie’s father said. You weren’t sure if he was talking to you or Maggie.

“It’s ok.” Maggie said. “Miss Y/L/N let me color.”

Her dad turned her attention to you.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Y/L/N. Sorry I’m late, I would say it won’t happen again, but it might.” He said.

“It’s ok. Nice to meet you too, Mr. Reid.” You said.

“It’s docta!” Maggie said.

“Sorry, Dr. Reid.” You said, correcting yourself.

“Don’t worry about it. Again, I’m sorry for being late.”

You shook your head and smiled. “It’s alright. I normally stay behind after school anyway.” You said.

“Well, Maggie, go get your bag. I have to go back to work but you’re going to spend time with Auntie Penelope ok?” Dr. Reid said, putting Maggie down.

He had a bright smile and watched as his daughter dashed across the classroom.

“She speaks very highly of you. She says you’re very smart and I guess you would have to be if you’ve read a bajillon books.” You said.

Dr. Reid laughed. “Not quiet a bajillion but I’m getting there.” He said.

Maggie ran back over holding a bright pink backpack with a unicorn on it.

“If you know what days you’re going to be late, I would be more than happy to let Maggie stay in the classroom til you get here.” You said.

“I couldn’t possibly accept that. I’m sure you have things to do.” Dr. Reid said.

“Please, Daddy? I like her. She lets me hold Lily with me all day.” Maggie said, holding up her bunny.

“It’s no problem at all, Dr. Reid.” You said.

“All right. But please call me Spencer.” He said.

“Y/N.” You said.

After waving goodbye to Maggie you turned back to your desk. You were looking forward to seeing Spencer when he picked up Maggie.

Spencer stepped off the elevator at Quantico, holding Maggie’s hand.

“There she is! And with her new backpack too!” Garcia said coming down the hallway.

“Auntie Penelope!” Maggie yelled, letting go of Spencer’s hand and running to Garcia. Garcia leaned over and gave Maggie a hug.

“You are going to come hang out with me, you magical little munchkin!” Garcia said, waving the colorful pen in her hand and tapping Maggie on the nose with it.

“Sorry we’re late Garcia.” Spencer said.

“Almost fifteen minutes late. What happened?” Garcia asked.

“Uh...traffic.” Spencer said.

“Noooo.” Maggie said to her dad before turning to Garcia. “We’re late because Daddy was busy smiling at Miss Y/L/N.”

“Miss Y/L/N?” Garcia asked, a smirking coming on her face.

“She’s my teacher, and she’s pretty like a Disney Princess. Daddy was smiling at her like he does when he talks about books.” Maggie said, matter-o-factly.

“We have so much to discuss. Tell me, what’s Miss Y/L/N’s first name?” Garcia asked leading Maggie down the hall to her lair.

“Garcia, don’t you dare search her up!” Reid called out after her. He turned to the doors of the BAU and startled to see Rossi standing there, stirring a cup of coffee.

“So...a pretty 1st grade teacher.” Rossi said.

“Don’t.” Reid said, brushing past him.

“How pretty is she?” Rossi asked.

“Very.” Reid mumbled to himself as he made his way to his desk.

You had grown accustom to seeing Spencer after almost every school day, unless he was out of town. You weren’t sure what he did for the FBI but he travelled a lot.

The days he was out of town, Maggie normally got picked up by a man you learned was her Uncle Derek, who she was very close with.

(“Did you know my middle name is Morgan because Uncle Derek’s last name is Morgan?”)

One day, after school you were hanging things up on the board you used to display student work while Maggie colored.

As you hung up the last picture you turned and saw her smiling at the board.

Before you could ask her what she was smiling about, Spencer came into the room.

“Daddy, Daddy, look! My rainbow’s on the good work board!” Maggie said, grabbing his hand and pulling him over to the board where you had just finished putting up her drawing of a rainbow.

“What! That’s awesome Maggie!” Spencer said, giving her a hug.

“It’s a very nice rainbow.” You said.

“I tried to make it pretty like Miss Y/L/N.” Maggie said looking at you.

“Well I think your rainbow is even prettier than me.” You said.

Maggie shook her head.

“Nuh-uh. Tell her how she’s prettier than my rainbow.” Maggie said, turning to Spencer.

You blushed a little bit as Spencer looked up at you from where he was crouched next to Maggie.

“Go on, tell her!” Maggie said before turning to you. “I heard my Uncle Luke tell Auntie Penelope that Daddy thinks you’re pretty.”

You blushed and covered your mouth to keep from smiling.

“I-uh-I didn’t say that.” Spencer said, standing up.

“That’s a lie and you said I shouldn’t tell lies.” Maggie said. “Uncle Luke also said that you should grow a pair and ask her to dinner.”

“We’re going to have a conversation with Uncle Luke about what’s appropriate to say in front of you.” Spencer said, blushing and grabbing Maggie’s hand, desperate to get out of the classroom.

As Spencer awkwardly waved bye to you and dragged Maggie out of the classroom, you heard her say; “Auntie Emily and Uncle Dave also have a bet about when you too are gonna-“

You didn’t hear the end of that sentence as she was dragged too far down the hall, but you started blushing profusely and covered your face with your hands. You really like Spencer, and his daughter had just embarrassed both of you.

A few minutes later, the door to your room opened again and Spencer stepped in again.

Determined not to make a fool out of yourself, you calmly asked, “Did Maggie forget something?”

“Yeah.” Spencer paused as he walked over to Maggie’s desk and picked up Lily. “But... I was also wondering if maybe sometime you’d like to get dinner with me. You don’t have to after what just happened, but-“

“I would love to.” You said. You quickly scribbled down your phone number on a sticky note and handed it to him. “Call and tell me when.”

As Spencer took the post-it, his hand lingered on yours for a second and smiled.

Part 2?

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #spencer x reader #fem!reader #criminal minds #father spencer reid #david rossi #penelope garcia #emily prentiss

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abcreid · 6 years

Text

Wait... What?

Spencer Reid x Liv Moore (AU) (CM x iZombie)

Hi for the third week of @spence-imagines challenge, the story will be OC/AU, and i choose AU! And the prompt is “You’ll eventually fall in love with me, mark my words.” Lol this is very hard but i tried my best and i hope you like it all! (Lol why i chose her?)

Masterlist

The BAU team were in Seattle to work a serial killer case. This is the hottest news all over the Seattle, because the unsub apparently killed people and took their brain. What a terrified case. Nobody had an idea why an unsub wanted to steal a brain. Like, for what?

The team splits into 3 places. Hotch and Rossi went to police department, Morgan and JJ went to crime scene and Spencer with Emily went to morgue to met medical examiners. Luckily, Spencer and Emily met a very generous man and a very flirtatious woman. The M.E.’s name is Dr. Ravi and he had an assistant named Liv. She was so strange enough to made Spencer couldn’t stop staring at her the entire time. Pale skin, white hair or blonde, keep flirted at Spencer and Dr. Ravi all the time.

The M.O. of this unsub is simple. They bashed their victim’s head with something made with metal, then ripped the hell out skull with a sharp thing like a knife or a tool.

“Hey you okay? You seem so nervous back there.” Emily asked him when they already outside the morgue.

He put his hand on his nape. “Yeah... I’m okay. It just... this case is odd, weird, scary, terrific, because what kind of an unsub ripped somebody’s head and took somebody’s brain. The grossest case we’ve ever took was Eddie Mays’ case. He drank their blood and ate their organs. And did you see the M.E. Assistant? She was pale. Paleness, also known as pale complexion or pallor, is an unusual lightness of skin color compared with your normal complexion. Paleness may be caused by reduced blood flow and oxygen or by a decreased number of red blood cells. It can occur all over your skin or appear more localized. Localized paleness usually involves one limb. Maybe she’s sick?”

“So you concerned more about her or about the case?” Emily noticed he was all over that M.E. girl and she started to teasing him.

And Spencer, of course he acted nervous right now. “Case. The case of course. Why would i concern about her pale skin?” He laughed weirdly enough to Emily furrowed her eyebrows.

“Okay... I’ve seen a lot of pale women before i got into BAU. So... not big deals about her. Maybe she doesn’t like tanning her skin? Or... lets go the station okay?” Spencer and Emily left while Dr. Ravi and Liv argued at the morgue.

“Liv, why were you flirting with that FBI man? You’re working right now. And besides, they seem have a patterns about your ‘kind’ who eats brain.” His hand is quoting whilst Liv is eating more her ‘brainy’ pancakes.

“No... no... no...,” she get up and lingers on Ravi’s neck. “He will never find out about my family, Ravi. He’s an attractive man. They way he explained everything, is an everything to me.” She smiled and back to eating her pancakes again. Well turns out, Liv is eating a very confident loving woman who filled with a brave and passion of love. “Oh but, did you know his number? I wanna call him.”

Ravi’s mouth are gaping. “Seriously? You didn’t worried about them investigating this serial killer case? Uh it’s probably Blaine with his business selling brains or it could be a homeless? Why they ain’t arrested? You know what? I’m not worried and Clive will help us. Oh no he will never help us.”

“Ravi please the FBI guy will never found anything. He will never find out about who i am. Chill, babe.”

It was already 4 days and BAU had no lead to the unsub. They confused there were not enough evidence to profile this unsub. They just knew that the unsub took only brain, he already killed 7 people, disposed body in any place he wanted. And they believed there’s more than one unsub. Like it or not, they will stay in Seattle longer.

Spencer insist to go to the morge everytime the body was found. His curiousness about Live is beyond the limit. He observed the alternate of her behaviour. He met her more than 5 times, but no interaction between them.

At the night, Spencer took a walk down the street alone to the bookstore. As always, he read books when he nervous, and he ran out of the books.

But he bumped into someone and his book fall all over the street. “Hey I’m sorry.” That girl said it to him but she just frozed staring at the book. She frozed more than 15 seconds and it worried Spencer.

“Hey are you okay? Why are you not moving?” When he touched her shoulder, she took all the books, get up and look at Spencer.

“Dr. Spencer Reid?” She greeted him.

“Uh sorry i bumped into you.” When he said that, Liv started to froze again. This time were longer and it made Spencer confused. Liv were getting her vision about Spencer bumped into the girl names Lydia who Liv ate the brain. He apologized and smiled to her. Then he left and the vision was over. “Hey are you sick of something? I saw you frozed like the other day we met. Is it something about your disease?”

“Uh...,” the Lydia behavior started to showed up and Liv started to make a lie. “I’m not sick, doctor. Instead, i feel something more... exciting.” Liv bite her lips “it feels like the universe wants you and me to meet here, in front of the coffee shop. It’s a signal of us.” She winked and be a flirtatious.

He had no expression but frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not a fool, babe. The way you looked at me, you observed me, not made an eye contact with me, that sexy, Mr. Reid.” She reached her pen in her purse and wrote her number in Spencer’s book. “You’ll eventually fall in love with me, mark my words.” She closed the cover and gave it to Spencer. “That number is a bonus for you. You know where i work, you’ll know where i lived, if you call. Bye bye, my lover.”

Liv left Spencer alone, in confusion and happiness.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #liv moore #izombie imagine #izombie #abcreidimagine #dr spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid fanfic #matthew gray gubler imagine

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nuclearblastuk · 6 years

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GOTTHARD | RELEASE DIGITAL SINGLE AND MUSIC VIDEO FOR 'WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE (ACOUSTIC VERSION)'

GOTTHARD | RELEASE DIGITAL SINGLE AND MUSIC VIDEO FOR 'WHAT I WOULDN'T GIVE (ACOUSTIC VERSION)' Today, GOTTHARD release their new live single 'Feel What I Feel', which can be ordered here: Gotthard – 'Feel What I Feel’ (Live, Acoustic 2018) (Single) http://nblast.de/GotthardFeelWhatIFeel Listen in NB playlists: http://nblast.de/SpotifyNovelties http://nblast.de/AppleMusicNovelties http://nblast.de/SpotifyUKNukeBox Check out the song on YouTube: https://youtu.be/LBpcMnrmS5Q 'Defrosted' released in 1997 - was GOTTHARD ‘s very first live album. The extremely popular acoustic version was only the fourth album release from the Lugano based hard rockers and within three months it reached double-platinum status in Switzerland. To this day, it‘s still seen as a cult milestone within the band's career that helped establish their reputation as the most successful band from Switzerland. For more than 25 years, GOTTHARD have thrived in the global spotlight thanks to their outstanding songwriting and spectacular live shows; with a career that includes 16 No.1-albums, over three million records sold, multiple awards and over 2000 shows all over the planet. Now, 21 years after the first edition, the circle is completed as GOTTHARD return to SONY Switzerland and Nuclear Blast with 'Defrosted 2', an ultimate unplugged-compilation of GOTTHARD‘s greatest hits, recorded on the "Defrosted Tour" in March. Even though the concept is the same as it was over 20 years ago – to capture the unique chemistry between the band and the fans – the circumstances that the band find themselves in are different. Both the band and their audience have grown, and yet after 25 years, it‘s the same unparalleled intimacy that GOTTHARD bring to their live performances that makes this record what it is. After celebrating their silver anniversary with their latest studio album that achieved chart records and saw the band play shows at a number of prestigious festivals, 'Defrosted 2' combines the pride of their lengthy career by showcasing 22 of the band's most iconic tracks, as well as a sense of ambition as the band look to the future with 2 brand new songs all in the same release. It provides a perfect cross-section of the band's formidable career that can be appreciated by all. As soon as Leo, Freddy, Hena, and Marc begin to play the first notes of the purest acoustic sound while vocalist Nic casually greets the audience in three different languages, even those who are new to GOTTHARD will soon feel at home. If you‘re not sold by this point then the first chorus of the album‘s first track, the sensual and groovy 'Miss Me' will serve as a stark reminder that the only important thing is the joy of live music. Andy Pupato is as faultless behind the kit as he was on the first 'Defrosted', Ernesto Ghezzi once again proves his talent as a live keyboard player and The G-Strings (the string quartet centered around Barbara Kubli) who perform live with the band from time to time, provide a perfect dose of elegance. Newly appointed backing vocalists Maram El Dsoki and Barbara Comi ‘s velvety soft vocals and radiant power give the band wings and imbue 'Defrosted 2' with an exciting new charm. Whether it‘s 1992‘s 'Hush', the gilded 'Heaven' from 2000, the comeback single 'Remember It‘s Me' after the tragic loss of original vocalist Steve Lee, the hard rocking 'Bang!' from the eponymous 2014 album, the tender 'Beautiful' or the recent 'Stay With Me', 'Defrosted 2' is a well-paced journey through the years, including breathtaking solos, wild honky tonk interludes ('Sweet Little Rock‘N‘Roller') and sincere declarations of love. And if you think you've heard everything after the wild trip through 25years of classics, there are two new tracks on top. First, there's the mighty ballad 'What I Wouldn‘t Give', which tears everything down in a powerful wave of emotion, and the party-hit 'Bye Bye Caroline', which is also the first single from 'Defrosted 2'. Lyrically inspired by STATUS QUO‘s 1973 hit "Caroline", the live opener of the UK rockers for 25 years, the track was created with Francis Rossi himself, who was also involved in contributing guitar and duet vocals. The song was spontaneously written backstage on the last 'Rock Meets Classic' Tour when Francis, Leo and Nic sealed their new friendship directly by writing a new song together. ICYMI: Watch the videos for more recently released GOTTHARD songs here: - 'Bye Bye Caroline' (feat. Francis Rossi): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-o_uatH2Ag Purchase the song here: http://nblast.de/GotthardWIWG - 'What I Wouldn't Give (Acoustic Version)': https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jwx8B6ZzOeE Get the song here: http://nblast.de/GotthardWIWG 'Defrosted 2' was produced by Leo Leoni in collaboration with Nicolo Fragile and as usual, Charlie Bauerfeind was responsible for the mix. The double album, which will be released in the high-quality Ecolbook format and as a 4-fold vinyl version worldwide on December 7, 2018, was further refined in the Wisseloord Studio Hilversum, where legends like the ROLLING STONES, U2, and the SCORPIONS have already worked and recorded. A lovingly selected array of sophisticated acoustic arrangements and with two and a half decades of Hits, GOTTHARD celebrate exuberantly great moments, quiet memories and unsurpassed riffs on 'Defrosted 2'– and make both old and new fans a cheerful unplugged gift that has really earned the best place on the shelf. 'Defrosted 2' will be released as: -2CD Digibook - 4LP Box Pre-order 'Defrosted 2' here: http://nblast.de/GotthardDefrosted2 The Tracklist reads as follows: CD1 01. Miss Me 02. Out On My Own 03. Bang 04. Sweet Little Rock ’N‘ Roller 05. Beautiful 06. Feel What I Feel 07. Hush 08. Remember It‘s Me 09. Stay With Me 10. Tequila Symphony No. 5 11. Mountain Mama CD2 01. Why 02. C‘est La Vie 03. One Life One Soul 04. Tell Me 05. Starlight 06. Sister Moon 07. Right On 08. Lift U Up 09. Heaven 10. Anytime, Anywhere 11. Smoke On The Water 12. Bye Bye Caroline (Acoustic Version) 13. What I Wouldn‘t Give (Acoustic Version) GOTTHARD live: 06.04. S Stockholm - Rock City Stockholm *NEW* 13.07. CH Sion - Sion Sous Les Étoiles

www.gotthard.com | www.facebook.com/Gotthard | www.twitter.com/Gotthard

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jeichanhaka · 8 years

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And Carried Me Away: Ch. 4

Chapter 1|| Chapter 2|| Chapter 3|| Chapter 4|| Chapter 5|| Chapter 6||

Chapter 7|| Chapter 8|| Chapter 9|| Chapter 10|| Chapter 11|| Chapter 12||

Chapter 13|| Chapter 14|| Chapter 15||

Chapter Four:

Rossi gazed out at the patio where his daughter and grandson were playing with Jemma, after Spencer had dropped her off on his way to pick up Alsie. His eyes grew misty. It was idyllic and surreal, and he thought how just a few years ago he'd believed such a moment was impossible. He'd been overwhelmed with finding out about Joy and her son, and was still getting used to being a father and grandfather to them.

Then that case in Western New York happened and he found out about James. About the lie he and Carolyn had been told thirty-six years ago, and then the conspiracy behind that lie. It had blindsided him more than Hayden hiding Joy's existence from him. That at least he understood, though he was still hurt by it and lamented not being there for his daughter growing up. But James' kidnapping was one he didn't understand.

He'd just started his work hunting down serial killers with Gideon and the other starting members of the Behavioral Science Unit back then. The BAU as it was now, was only a dream back then, and not many believed they'd accomplish much if anything. So why did Connell and Somerfield target his son? Why did Somerfield experiment on James, trying to psychologically condition his son to become a killer? How had he been a threat to either of them that they would take James as a precaution?

He'd never heard of either man until just a few months ago!

The sound of his cell-phone buzzing pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced at the number before answering.

"Yeah, Hotch? Is everything ok?" Rossi paused, his gaze watching as Jemma played with her cousin and aunt, her voice carrying inside from the patio. He smiled faintly as he saw the gestures the three year old made and understood what she was saying. It still amazed him how quickly Jemma had picked up sign language after they started teaching her. He was still having trouble with it, and mixed up a lot, but he understood what Jemma just signed. She'd been signing it for the past week.

-Momma's coming home soon. I'll get to see her.-

Rossi smiled at his granddaughter, missing what Hotch had just said over the phone. He didn't miss the tone though, and immediately turned his attention back to the other agent. "I'm sorry, I missed what you just said, what..."

-"Someone's copying James' crimes. Almost exactly. There's been only one recent victim discovered so far, a few weeks ago, but..." Hotch paused, his words horrifying and angering the older agent, who could barely respond from said emotions. "This unsub is killing his victims."-

Rossi, infuriated, barely noticed the ringing of his doorbell or his daughter going to answer it, his focus on Hotch. His tone was almost a snarl when he spoke, his anger directed at the thought of the unsub copying his son's crimes. As if it wasn't enough to have endured arresting and seeing his son sent to prison, to suddenly have it thrown back at him now and in this way. "Victims? Has there been more than one? Hotch?"

-"...Yes and no. This recent victim was the only one raped and enucleated by this unsub. But based on how the victim was killed, it's likely he killed at least three times before." Hotch replied, stating it matter-of-factly though Rossi sensed there was something more to it. He didn't have to wait long or even ask how the victim was killed before the younger agent elaborated. "The cause of death was three punctures to the spine, just like the three women who were James' victims thirteen years ago."-

"That's..." Rossi drew in a breath, Hotch's words a blow to him. He hadn't forgotten the three victims that were connected to James after the latter's arrest, but he had allowed himself to be content with not pursuing it since it'd been given to another team. One that had, he presumed, come to the same conclusion he and Hotch had: that the three women were assaulted by James, but murdered years later by another party. Rossi scowled, considering this information, before his anger was tempered with wonder. A thought had occurred to him as suddenly as his anger. "Hotch, if this unsub is responsible for killing those three women, then maybe..."

-"It's possible but unlikely." Hotch curtailed the senior agent's hypothesis, that the victims that were assaulted thirteen years ago and which they'd attributed to James, may not have been James' after all. "This unsub killed his victim before raping her. And the enucleation showed hesitance according to the coroner's initial report."-

Rossi exhaled, not surprised but dismayed by Hotch's refuting response. He was about to ask another question when Joy approached him, carrying an envelope. His eyes narrowed slightly, eyeing the package suspiciously. It was a plain, ochre-yellow business envelope, hand addressed to him. Seemly innocuous, yet it unnerved him. His gut roiled.

"Dad? This just came for you. I..." Joy spoke, holding the large envelope-shaped package out hesitantly. It was evident that she felt a bit suspicious about the package, but she still flinched when Rossi grabbed it from her hands. Her own concern heightened when her father suggested she play with her son and Jemma outside. "Dad...?"

"Go." Rossi replied, firm but softly, his gut clenching as a horrible feeling enveloped him. He didn't know what was in the package, but his gut was screaming at him that it wasn't good.

-"...Dave? Is something wrong? Did something happen?" Hotch asked, concerned by the tone to the older agent's voice even if he hadn't clearly heard the words. "Dave?"-

"A package just arrived for me." Rossi replied coolly, his eyes locked on the handwriting which seemed familiar but at the same moment felt wrong. He placed it on the table, deliberating what could be inside. His gut screamed at him.

-"What sort of package...?" Hotch asked, his eyes narrowing as he detected through the way Rossi spoke, what the other man thought. The package wasn't just a simple package, but one that had alarmed the senior agent's instincts. "Dave? Should I send the b..."-

Rossi, already opening the package, shook his head and muttered 'no' into his cell phone. His gut wasn't telling him the contents were dangerous, but that the handwriting was important. "No bomb squad, Aaron..." He paused, his expression turning rigid as he saw what was inside. He drew in a breath, mentally swearing. "But send forensics. And the team."

-"What? What's in the package? Dave?"-

Rossi didn't answer, but rather glowered down at the contents: a pair of human eyes haphazardly preserved in a Ziploc bag, and a VHS with 'to Rossi' written on the front.

0Hospital:

"...I'll finish packing." Alsie mumbled, turning back to her things arrayed haphazardly on the bed. Her eyes alighted uneasily on the rubber-banded stack of photos and she immediately grabbed them. Her heart quickened, hoping that neither man behind her had noticed.

"Uh...I'll...I'll be on my way." William Reid spoke up next, not sure how to respond to his son's presence. Neither he nor Alsie had told Spencer he was still in D.C, let alone would be visiting Alsie today. Though, to be fair, neither had they told him that William Reid wasn't still in D.C. "...Bye."

Spencer watched quietly as his father bid goodbye to his sister, keeping his lips pressed shut until he heard the older man leave. It'd thrown him, seeing his father and Alsie talking, enough that he had stopped himself from opening the door. A total of eleven minutes and eighteen seconds had passed between him arriving and him entering the room.

A short time, yet it had felt like an eternity. Just standing outside, caught between wanting to barge in to demand his father leave and not wanting to deny his sister time with hi...their father. Spencer swallowed and cleared his throat, feeling both guilty and self-conscious. 'It's 'our'...'our'. Not 'my'...'

Alsie, having wordlessly packed away the photo stack unnoticed, glanced towards Spencer. Her eyes noticed his face, and the mix of fear and guilt in it. She noticed too, while she gazed on him silently, the moment his concern shifted to irritation. "Sp..."

"...it isn't mom's fault." Spencer blurted, his thought processes moving fast, dashing away from his concern for Alsie's relationship with their dad, and locking on the bits of conversation he'd overheard. The one most prominant had been when Alsie had complained about Diana - the tone she'd used still seemed to pierce him. "It's not her fault. Not back then and not now."

Alsie flinched, her eyes widening a millimeter. She stared up at her twin, allowing her hair to fall back behind her ears, as she gazed at him. Her eyes expectant. "...why?"

"Why?" Spencer drew in a breath, taking the one word question as a criticism directed at Diana. He nearly spat out an angry retort before Alsie continued, revealing how incorrect his assumption had been.

"What is it? What happened? Is she okay? Are you?" Alsie approached Spencer, her questions rapid-fire, and her eyes wide with concern. She immediately grabbed for her brother's hands. "Spencer?"

"..." Spencer glanced down at Alsie's hands holding his, the gesture the only way his sister could offer comfort. And just it alone was enough to make the last of his composure drop. The tears fell silent as he recounted his trip and what he'd discovered. That their mother had early-onset dementia, that she would slowly lose her memories. "...there's nothing I can do. Mom's...and I...I want to do something, to help her...not just for my or her sake. But...for you and Jemma too. I...I want Jemma and you to meet mom, but if her memory...it'd be difficult enough explaining to her the truth once. That you were taken. I'd prepared for that weeks ago. It would've been emotional, overwhelming, but doable since I was sure she'd be overjoyed discovering the truth. But..."

"...yeah." Alsie mumbled, getting Spencer's concern and understanding his turmoil. The prospect of having to possibly repeat the explanation over and over, would be exhausting emotionally. Yet she felt bitter. Before Spencer had gone to see Diana, he'd told Alsie such wonderful stories about the woman, that Alsie had looked forward to meeting her. To finally be able to see her real mom, and be able to have a mother worthy of the title.

Her bitterness faded however, as an idea popped into her thoughts. It was one she had buried, locking up in the dark coffers of her brain. One she knew no one would understand or condone, yet it still burned inside her. She squeezed Spencer's hands, gazing up at him timid yet hopeful.

"You know, we could forget too, that we are..."

"What? No." Spencer flinched, understanding what Alsie meant before she even finished, and was left aghast. The petite woman hadn't mentioned or hinted towards it since the first time she suggested it, so he thought it was done with. Yet now...

"...I already explained that...there's no risk...I can't...carry to term again. So...all that'd be hindering us..."

"No. Alsie. Just no. That's not going to happen." Spencer groaned, feeling nauseous from the thought. It was bad enough that he and Alsie had kissed briefly, before finding out about being twins. But what Alsie suggested was much worse. At least the kiss had occurred before he knew Alsie was his twin and had been initiated by her alter Ana.

Alsie's hesitant hints at wanting to continue such a relationship with him despite knowing were disconcerting.

"...I'm sorry."

"I can't...I can't believe you would suggest something like that now. Just after I explained about mom. I can't..." Spencer shook his head, staring at Alsie like she was a bizarre alien. It seemed like the only explanation, though he knew it had more to do with how Alsie was raised and her trust issues than that. "...how...do you even actually care about mom? Or anything I said about her? I can't..." He pulled his hands from his sister's.

"...sorry." Alsie whispered, flinching at the sudden loss of Spencer's hands. It was such a small gesture, yet it spoke volumes to her. More than her brother's frustrated and angry words. Her eyes teared up, which she hid by shifting her head downward, allowing her hair to conceal her eyes from anyone over her height. Her bereft hands, she used to embrace herself, crossing her arms in a mixed gesture of self-comfort and defensiveness. "...you don't have to be here."

Spencer blinked, taken aback. Even more so when Alsie started trying to carry her bagged things herself, ignoring the fact that he was there. "Al...don't...don't do this. Don't shut me out just because...I won't..." He grabbed for the packed bag Alsie carried, determined to help. His eyes grew wide when she tensed and backed away - only a few inches, but it seemed like a chasm. "Alsie...please. Don't be...don't...be..."

Spencer bit his lip, about to say 'don't be stubborn' to Alsie, despite knowing that it wasn't spite that caused his sister to flinch.

"'Don't be what'? Unfair? Stubborn?" Alsie blurted, glaring at her brother. "What is 'fairness'? Really, tell me. Is it fair that you got to spend all those years with mom and dad, while I...I got..." She swallowed, thinking about the Crawfords and Linnet. About what she had to endure growing up, enough abuse to trigger D.I.D. "...And is it fair that dad practically leaves the room every time you arrive because he's too concerned about how you may take the time he's with me as favortism? And you never tell him otherwise. I understand he left you and mom, but you still had ten years with him in your life! I had none! And you've had even more time with mom! The woman who forgot I existed since I was born! Yet whenever I make any sort of complaint or remark about her, you defend her." Alsie snarled, barely taking a breath as she continued her tirade. "I'm sorry I don't have the same view of her as you, since I never met her. And going on how you worded what you said earlier, it seems I never will since it'll be too...useless? Too irritating?"

"Tha...Alsie, no. That's not..."

"And to top it all off, you get angry at me for suggesting something that...yes, I know...I get it's impossible. Illegal, even. For you and I to..." She took in a steadying breath, her lips trembling. "And I'm sorry for suggesting it. I just...it's how I feel. How I felt since we were children, playing chess at that park. You..." She touched her scarred right temple, her hand quivering. "The thought - the hope - of meeting you again was what allowed me to endure all the...shit I went through. I can't just forget what I feel, despite knowing we're related. Despite knowing nothing will ever come of it. I just...I'm sorry? All right?"

Alsie dropped her bag, her strength fleeing her along with her anger. Swallowing back her tears, she attempted to rush past Spencer and out of the hospital room, only to be halted by him grabbing her arm.

The next moment he pulled her into a hug.

"...I'm sorry, too." Spencer whispered, wrapping his arms around Alsie and allowing her to cry against his chest.

A/N: What do you readers think so far? BTW, I can't really think of any hints towards the answers to the questions I posed last chapter (the identity of the person in the flashback/memory Alsie had, or the name written in the book James received), but I can say that neither answer is an OC.

I don't plan on having any Spencer/Alsie twincest in this fic (though I might write a Oneshot AU for tumblr just to satisfy my personal desires), but I do feel that having the two deal with the emotional complications arising from their dating briefly in My Life Had Stood would make for some good drama. (The last few paragraphs of this chapter explains the main reason why Alsie is still interested in pursuing Spencer despite being twins.)

#criminal minds #fanfiction #spencer reid #david rossi #OC #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #crime drama #case fic #family

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theart2rock · 6 years

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Gotthard mit Details zu Defrosted 2

[vc_row][vc_column][vc_column_text]Mit „DEFROSTED“ veröffentlichten GOTTHARD 1997 ihr erstes Live-Album überhaupt. Die begehrte Akustik-Aufnahme war der erst vierte Albumrelease der Hardrocker aus Lugano, meldete in nur drei Monaten Doppelplatin in der Schweiz und gilt bis heute als Kult-Meilenstein, der den Weltruf der erfolgreichsten Schweizer Band endgültig zementierte. Seit über 25 Jahren stellen GOTTHARD ihren Platz im globalen Spotlight mit herausragendem Songwriting und spektakulären Shows immer wieder unter Beweis: 16 No.1-Alben, mehr als drei Millionen verkaufte Tonträger, diverse Preise und weltweite Ehrungen sowie weit über 2000 Shows auf dem gesamten Planeten sind die beeindruckende Bilanz der unangefochtenen Rock-Instanz aus dem Tessin.

21 Jahre nach der ersten Ausgabe schließt sich der Kreis: GOTTHARD kehren zu SONY Schweiz und Nuclear Blast zurück und veröffentlichen mit „DEFROSTED 2“ eine ultimative Unplugged-Auswahl der größten GOTTHARD-Hits, festgehalten auf der „DEFROSTED TOUR“ im März. Obwohl die Idee dieselbe war wie damals – die einmalige Chemie zwischen Band und Fans für die Ewigkeit zu dokumentieren – sind die Vorzeichen 2018 andere. Band und Publikum sind weiter gewachsen und nach einem Vierteljahrhundert gemeinsamer Geschichte ist es das ebenso lässige wie intime Best-Of-Feel auf den Brettern und im Saal, das diese Platte ausmacht. Nach dem „Silver“-Jubiläum mit Chartrekorden und umjubelten Festivalshows bringt „DEFROSTED 2“ die 22 besten Tracks sowie zwei brandneue Songs auf einem Release. Es ist die emotionale Momentaufnahme einer außergewöhnlichen Karriere, die nicht nur für Hardcore-Jünger gedacht ist.

Wenn Leo, Freddy, Hena und Marc mit den ersten Takten in feinstem Acoustic-Sound loslegen während Nic locker auf drei Sprachen den Club begrüßt, haben sogar GOTTHARD-Neulinge das Gefühl längst dazuzugehören. Spätestens beim ersten Refrain des Albums, dem sinnlich-groovenden „MISS ME“, dimmt sich das Licht dann von selbst und man ist direkt mittendrin. In einer perfekt eingespielten Musik-Familie, in der Spielfreude und der pure Genuss der Liveshow das Wichtigste sind. Andy Pupato steht, wie schon auf der ersten „DEFROSTED“, souverän an den Percussions, Ernesto Ghezzi beweist als fester Live-Keyboarder erneut sein einmaliges Hammond-Händchen und „The G- Strings“, das Streicherquartett um Barbara Kubli, das live immer mal wieder dabei ist, verführt an den richtigen Stellen mit der perfekten Dosis Eleganz. Für frischen Soul-Wind sorgen die neuen Background-Ladies Maram El Dsoki und Barbara Comi: Samtweiche Vocals und strahlende Powerchöre verleihen der Band Flügel und dem Projekt „DEFROSTED 2“ seinen aufregenden, neuen Charme.

Ob das 1992er „HUSH“, das vergoldete „HEAVEN“ von 2000, die ‚Comeback-Single’ „REMEMBER IT’S ME“ nach dem tragischen Verlust von Steve Lee, das heftiger rockende „BANG!“ vom gleichnamigen 2014er Album, das zärtliche „BEAUTIFUL“ oder der aktuelle „SILVER“-Burner „STAY WITH ME“: „DEFROSTED 2“ ist eine bestens aufgelegte Zeitreise inklusive atemberaubender Soli, wilder Honky-Tonk-Einlagen („SWEET LITTLE ROCK’N’ROLLER“) und aufrichtiger Liebeserklärungen. Und wenn man nach dem wilden XY-Minuten-Trip durch Klassiker aus 25 Jahren glaubt, alles gehört zu haben, gibt’s noch zwei neue Tracks oben drauf: Zum einen die gewaltige Ballade „WHAT I WOULDN´T GIVE“, die alles in einer mächtigen Woge aus Gefühl mitreißt, und Party-Kracher „BYE BYE CAROLINE“, der gleichzeitig auch die erste Single aus „DEFROSTED 2“ ist. Textlich angelehnt an Status Quos ‘73er „Caroline“, das seit 25 Jahren der Live-Opener der UKRocker ist, entstand der Track mit Francis Rossi himself, der es sich im Anschluss nicht nehmen ließ, auch Gitarre und Duett-Vocals beizusteuern. Zu Papier gebracht wurde der Song spontan backstage auf der letzten Rock Meets Classic Tour, auf der Francis, Leo und Nic ihre neue Freundschaft direkt mit dem gemeinsamen Song besiegelten.

Produziert wurde „DEFROSTED 2“ von Leo Leoni in Kollaboration mit Nicolo Fragile. Für den Mix zeichnet gewohnt routiniert Charlie Bauerfeind verantwortlich. Weiter veredelt wurde das Doppelalbum, das im hochwertigen Ecolbook-Format und als 4-fach Vinyl-Version weltweit am 7. Dezember 2018 erscheint, im Wisseloord Studio Hilversum, wo von den Rolling Stones über U2 bis zu den Scorpions bereits die gesamte Weltelite gearbeitet hat. Liebevoll verpackt in durchdachte Akustik-Arrangements und mit zweieinhalb Jahrzehnten Hit-Übergepäck in den Flightcases, feiern GOTTHARD auf „DEFROSTED 2“ ausgelassen große Momente, leise Erinnerungen und unübertroffene Riffs – und machen damit alten wie neuen Fans ein bestens gelauntes Unplugged-Geschenk, das sich den besten Platz im Regal wirklich verdient hat.

CD 1: 01. MISS ME 02. OUT ON MY OWN 03. BANG 04. SWEET LITTLE ROCK N´ ROLLER 05. BEAUTIFUL 06. FEEL WHAT I FEEL 07. HUSH 08. REMEMBER IT’S ME 09. STAY WITH ME 10. TEQUILA SYMPHONY 11. MOUNTAIN MAMA CD 2: 12. WHY 13. C’EST LA VIE 14. ONE LIFE ONE SOUL 15. TELL ME 16. STARLIGHT 17. SISTER MOON 18. RIGHT ON 19. LIFT U UP 20. HEAVEN 21. ANYTIME ANYWHERE 22. SMOKE ON THE WATER 23. BYE BYE CAROLINE (Acoustic version) 24. WHAT I WOULDN´T GIVE (Acoustic version)

VINYL 1A: 01. MISS ME 02. OUT ON MY OWN 03. BANG VINYL 1B: 04. SWEET LITTLE ROCK N´ ROLLER 05. BEAUTIFUL 06. FEEL WHAT I FEEL

VINYL 2A: 07. HUSH 08. REMEMBER IT’S ME 09. STAY WITH ME VINYL 2B: 10. TEQUILA SYMPHONY 11. MOUNTAIN MAMA 12. WHY

VINYL 3A: 13. C’EST LA VIE 14. ONE LIFE ONE SOUL 15. TELL ME 16. STARLIGHT

VINYL 3B: 17. SISTER MOON 18. RIGHT ON 19. LIFT U UP 20. HEAVEN

VINYL 4A: 21. ANYTIME ANYWHERE 22. SMOKE ON THE WATER

VINYL 4B: 23. BYE BYE CAROLINE (Acoustic version) 24. WHAT I WOULDN´T GIVE (Acoustic version) 25. WHAT I WOULDN´T GIVE (Orchestra version)

Quelle: Sony Music

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Gotthard mit Details zu Defrosted 2 was originally published on The Art 2 Rock

#Andy Pupato #Defrosted 2 #Ernesto Ghezzi #Francis Rossi #Freddy Scherer #Gotthard #Hena Habegger #Leo Leoni #Marc Lynn #Nic Maeder #Release #Sony Music #Status Quo #Steve Lee #Veröffentlichung #theart2rock

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365footballorg-blog · 6 years

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LAFC vs. New England Revolution | 2018 MLS Match Preview

September 12, 20186:58PM EDT

LAFC vs. New England Revolution 2018 MLS Regular Season — Week 29 Banc of California Stadium — Los Angeles Sept. 15 — 10:30 pm ET WATCH: ESPN+, MLS LIVE on DAZN (Canada)

LAFC are seeking a fourth win in the last five games without defeat and an eighth home victory when they host a New England Revolution side that is seeking a second consecutive road victory.

LAFC are back from the international break after a 4-2 win at Toronto FC, while the Revs handed New York City FC their first home loss of the season, winning 1-0 at Yankee Stadium last Wednesday.

Los Angeles Football Club

LAFC (13-7-7) kept pace with FC Dallas and Sporting Kansas City by beating Toronto FC, 4-2, at BMO Field on Sept. 1.

Carlos Vela scored the lone goal of the first half and Diego Rossi and Lee Nguyen struck two minutes apart early in the second half to extend the lead to 3-0. Jozy Altidore struck for a late brace to pull TFC to within a goal, but Vela’s second goal of the match put the game away.

“Great win, maybe not our best night of football, but very good mentality, too advantage of some opportunities, I thought we adjusted when they threw more numbers late,” Bob Bradley said. “I would have liked to have done it with a clean sheet, but still proud of the guys.”

Suspended: None

Suspended after next caution: M – Eduard Atuesta, D – Walker Zimmerman

International duty: None

Injury Report: OUT: GK – Quillan Roberts (right fibular fracture), M – Mark-Anthony Kaye (fractured ankle), F – Adama Diomande (left adductor strain), D – Danilo Silva (right hamstring irritation)

Projected Starting XI (4-3-3, right to left) GK: Tyler Miller — Steven Beitashour, Dejan Jakovic, Walker Zimmerman, Jordan Harvey — Andre Horta, Eduard Atuesta, Lee Nguyen — Carlos Vela, Marco Urena, Diego Rossi

New England Revolution

An unbeaten streak was snapped at nine games when New England (8-10-9) stunned NYCFC, 1-0, at Yankee Stadium last Wednesday.

After hitting the post in the first half, Brian Wright scored the game’s lone goal in the 70th minute, tapping in the rebound of Cristian Penilla’s saved shot. It was the Revs’ second road win of the season.

“It’s fantastic that Brian scored, it’s great that Isaac [Angking] got on the field, but would be even better if we beat LAFC on Saturday,” Brad Friedel said. “That game’s in the past, we’ll learn from what we didn’t do right, we’ll also take on board what we did do right and we’ll move on to the next one, but the next game’s always the most important.”

Suspended: None

Suspended after next caution: M – Kelyn Rowe, D – Antonio Delamea

International duty: None

Injury Report: OUT: D – Chris Tierney (torn right ACL)

Projected Starting XI (4-3-3, right to left) GK: Brad Knighton — Andrew Farrell, Jalil Anibaba, Michael Mancienne, Brandon Bye — Kelyn Rowe, Wilfried Zahibo, Scott Caldwell — Diego Fagundez, Brian Wright, Cristian Penilla

All-Time Series

This is the first all-time meeting between Los Angeles Football Club and the New England Revolution

Officials

Referee: Mark Geiger Assistant Referees: Mike Rottersman, Apolinar Mariscal 4th Official: Kevin Stott VAR: Victor Rivas

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LAFC vs. New England Revolution | 2018 MLS Match Preview was originally published on 365 Football

#2018 #England #LAFC #match #Preview #Revolution

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nuclearblastuk · 6 years

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GOTTHARD | REVEAL DETAILS FOR DOUBLE-LIVE ALBUM "DEFROSTED 2", START PRE-ORDER + RELEASE NEW SINGLE & VIDEO FOR "BYE BYE CAROLINE" (FEAT. FRANCIS ROSSI)

'Defrosted' released in 1997 - was GOTTHARD‘s very first live album. The extremely popular acoustic version was only the fourth album release from the Lugano based hard rockers and within three months it reached double-platinum status in Switzerland. Still, to this day it‘s seen as a cult milestone within the band's career that helped establish their reputation as the most successful band from Switzerland. For more than 25 years, GOTTHARD have thrived in the global spotlight thanks to their outstanding songwriting and spectacular live shows; with a career that includes 16 No.1-albums, over three million records sold, multiple awards and over 2000 shows all over the planet. Now, 21 years after the first edition, the circle is completed as GOTTHARD return to SONY Switzerland and Nuclear Blast with 'Defrosted 2', an ultimate unplugged-compilation of GOTTHARD‘s greatest hits, recorded on the "Defrosted Tour" in March. Even though the concept is the same as it was over 20 years ago – to capture the unique chemistry between the band and the fans – the circumstances that the band find themselves in are different. Both the band and their audience have grown, and yet after 25 years it‘s the same unparalleled intimacy that GOTTHARD bring to their live performances that makes this record what it is. After celebrating their silver anniversary with their latest studio album that achieved chart records and saw the band play shows at a number of prestigious festivals, 'Defrosted 2' combines the pride of their lengthy career by showcasing 22 of the bands most iconic tracks, as well as a sense of ambition as the band look to the future with 2 brand new songs all in the same release. It provides a perfect cross-section of the band's formidable career that can be appreciated by all. As soon as Leo, Freddy, Hena and Marc begin to play the first notes of the purest acoustic sound while vocalist Nic casually greets the audience in three different languages, even those who are new to GOTTHARD will soon feel at home. If you‘re not sold by this point then the first chorus of the album‘s first track, the sensual and groovy 'Miss Me' will serve as a stark reminder that the only important thing is the joy of live music. Andy Pupato is as faultless behind the kit as he was on the first 'Defrosted', Ernesto Ghezzi once again proves his talent as a live keyboard player and The G-Strings (the string quartet centered around Barbara Kubli) who perform live with the band from time to time, provide a perfect dose of elegance. Newly appointed backing vocalists Maram El Dsoki and Barbara Comi‘s velvety soft vocals and radiant power give the band wings and imbue 'Defrosted 2' with an exciting new charm. Whether it‘s 1992‘s 'Hush', the gilded 'Heaven' from 2000, the comeback single 'Remember It‘s Me' after the tragic loss of original vocalist Steve Lee, the hard rocking 'Bang!' from the eponymous 2014 album, the tender 'Beautiful' or the recent 'Stay With Me', 'Defrosted 2' is a well-paced journey through the years, including breathtaking solos, wild honky tonk interludes ('Sweet Little Rock‘N‘Roller') and sincere declarations of love. And if you think you've heard everything after the wild trip through 25 years of classics, there are two new tracks on top. First, there's the mighty ballad 'What I Wouldn‘t Give', which tears everything down in a powerful wave of emotion, and the party-hit 'Bye Bye Caroline', which is also the first single from 'Defrosted 2'. Lyrically inspired by STATUS QUO‘s 1973 hit "Caroline", the live opener of the UK rockers for 25 years, the track was created with Francis Rossi himself, who was also involved in contributing guitar and duet vocals. The song was spontaneously written backstage on the last 'Rock Meets Classic' Tour, when Francis, Leo and Nic sealed their new friendship directly by writing a new song together. Watch the video for 'Bye Bye Caroline' (feat. Francis Rossi) here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4-o_uatH2Ag Order the single digitally here: http://nblast.de/GotthardByeByeCaroline Or listen to the Single in Nuclear Blast Novelties Playlists: http://nblast.de/SpotifyNovelties http://nblast.de/AppleMusicNovelties 'Defrosted 2'was produced by Leo Leoni in collaboration with Nicolo Fragile and as usual, Charlie Bauerfeind was responsible for the mix. The double album, which will be released in the high-quality Ecolbook format and as a 4-fold vinyl version worldwide on December 7, 2018 was further refined in the Wisseloord Studio Hilversum, where legends like the ROLLING STONES, U2 and the SCORPIONS have already worked and recorded. A lovingly selected array of sophisticated acoustic arrangements and with two and a half decades of Hits, GOTTHARD celebrate exuberantly great moments, quiet memories and unsurpassed riffs on 'Defrosted 2'– and make both old and new fans a cheerful unplugged gift that has really earned the best place on the shelf. 'Defrosted 2' will be released as: -2CD Digibook - 4LP Box Pre-order 'Defrosted 2' here: http://nblast.de/GotthardDefrosted2 The Tracklist reads as follows: CD1 01. Miss Me 02. Out On My Own 03. Bang 04. Sweet Little Rock ’N‘ Roller 05. Beautiful 06. Feel What I Feel 07. Hush 08. Remember It‘s Me 09. Stay With Me 10. Tequila Symphony No. 5 11. Mountain Mama CD2 01. Why 02. C‘est La Vie 03. One Life One Soul 04. Tell Me 05. Starlight 06. Sister Moon 07. Right On 08. Lift U Up 09. Heaven 10. Anytime, Anywhere 11. Smoke On The Water 12. Bye Bye Caroline (Acoustic Version) 13. What I Wouldn‘t Give (Acoustic Version)

www.gotthard.com | www.facebook.com/Gotthard | www.twitter.com/Gotthard

Pre-order 'Defrosted 2' here: http://nblast.de/GotthardDefrosted2 Order the single digitally here: http://nblast.de/GotthardByeByeCaroline

#Gotthard #Francis Rossi #Bye Bye Caroline #Nuclear Blast UK #Defrosted 2

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365footballorg-blog · 6 years

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Los Angeles Football Club vs. Columbus Crew SC | 2018 MLS Match Preview

June 21, 20186:15PM EDT

LAFC vs. Columbus Crew SC 2018 MLS Regular Season – Week 17 Banc of California Stadium — Los Angeles June 23 – 10:30 pm ET WATCH: ESPN+, MLS LIVE on DAZN (Canada)

Ten days after a nine-match unbeaten streak was snapped by Atlanta United, Columbus Crew SC head to the West Coast attempting to end a four-match winless run against an LAFC side that dramatically defeated the San Jose Earthquakes to end their own stretch of four consecutive games without a victory.

LAFC average 2.01 expected goals per game this season, one of just five teams to average 2.0+ xG/g. Columbus average 0.81 goals against per game – no other team averages less than 1.32 expected goals against per game, per Opta.

LAFC

It was more late-game drama for LAFC (7-4-3), which needed an 89th-minute winner by Latif Blessing to solve Sacramento Republic FC, 3-2, in the U.S. Open Cup Round of 16 Wednesday night at Banc of California Stadium.

LAFC, which will host the Portland Timbers in the quarterfinals next month, trailed 2-1 in the final half hour, but Diego Rossi leveled in the 67th minute and Blessing crashed in at the back post to latch onto Rossi’s service.

“Overall, I thought we played a lot of good football,” Bob Bradley said. “By now you know me. If I see a lot of good football, I think that’s positive, you advance in the Cup, look forward to Portland on [July] 18th and now we go back to the league and it should be a good game against Columbus.”

Suspended: None

Suspended after next caution: None

International duty: F – Carlos Vela, F – Marco Urena, M – Omar Gaber

Injury Report: OUT: GK Luis Lopez (right tibial stress fracture); QUESTIONABLE: F – Adama Diomande (left hamstring irritation)

Projected Starting XI (4-2-3-1, right to left) GK: Tyler Miller — Steven Beitashour, Laurent Ciman, Walker Zimmerman, Joao Moutinho — Benny Feilhaber, Eduard Atuesta — Mark-Anthony Kaye, Lee Nguyen, Diego Rossi — Latif Blessing

Notes: Walker Zimmerman has won 72.2 percent of his duels since the start of May, the best percentage of any player with at least 50 duels … LAFC have yet to be beaten at home this year (2W-3D). They average 1.4 goals per game at home as opposed to 2.4 on the road.

Columbus Crew SC

After three consecutive draws, Columbus (7-4-6) dropped a 2-0 decision to Atlanta United on June 13 at MAPFRE Stadium, their first loss since a 1-0 defeat to D.C. United on April 14, which was their third in a row at the time.

Crew SC had a number of near-misses on the night, including a Federico Higuain shot from distance in the first half that was deflected and nearly snuck under the crossbar, and a Gyasi Zardes tap-in chance on a low cross in the 75th minute in which the striker just missed the shot.

“We haven’t had a bye week since the beginning of the year so it was good,” Gregg Berhalter said of the weekend off. “We were going a long stretch in a rhythm and it was good to break that a little bit and I think now the guys are anxious to get back on the field.”

Suspended: None

Suspended after next caution: D – Milton Valenzuela

International duty: None

Injury Report: OUT – GK Zack Steffen (knee)

Projected Starting XI (4-2-3-1, right to left) GK: Jon Kempin — Harrison Afful, Jonathan Mensah, Lalas Abubakar, Milton Valenzuela — Wil Trapp, Artur — Pedro Santos, Federico Higuain, Cristian Martinez — Gyasi Zardes

Notes: Zardes has taken 48 shots inside the box this season the most in the league. His 10 goals from inside the box are tied for the second-most in MLS this year. … After scoring two goals in their season opener in Toronto, the Crew have scored just one goal over their last six away games (1W-2L-3D).

All-Time Series

This is the first all-time meeting between LAFC and Columbus Crew SC

Officials

Referee: Kevin Stott Assistant Referees: Adam Garner, Felicia Mariscal 4th Official: Baldomero Toledo VAR: Alex Chilowicz

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Los Angeles Football Club vs. Columbus Crew SC | 2018 MLS Match Preview was originally published on 365 Football

#2018 #Angeles #club #Columbus #Crew #football #match #Preview

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Armchair Analyst: Sporting's defense, LAFC's attack & more from Week 2

March 11, 20187:44PM EDT

Why does the SuperDraft matter? Because it’s a free way to get talent, and over the years we’ve seen 1) that talent, if given room to breathe and if properly coached up, can compete at the highest levels of this league, and 2) we’re still not at a point — and because of the geographic and demographic realities of North America, will probably never be at a point — where pro teams are efficiently hoovering up all the top talent directly into their programs.

There will be kids who grow up nowhere near a development academy, or kids who grow into their bodies a little later in life, or kids who find the right mentality later in life, or kids who just really want to go to college, or kids who just fall through the cracks. Even if MLS expands to 40 teams and USL to 100, those kids will always exist, and my belief that good coaching can mold them into good players will thus always exist as well.

So, in turn, the draft’s always going to exist, and there’s always going to be good players to find and develop via that mechanism. If you’re committed to that, like Gregg Berhalter and Bob Bradley (to name two) seem to be, you’re going to find players who can get you points. Occasionally you’ll be able to find a Jack Harrison or Cyle Larin, a player you can sell on for millions of dollars. Now you’ve gotten points and money — which is, I’d imagine, a lovely thing to show to ownership the next time you’re negotiating a contract.

The difference between now and five years ago is that if you crush it with other player acquisitions mechanisms, you probably don’t need to draft players who can win you points. Got a booming academy, locked-in USL team and an owner willing to splash on imported talent? There’s mounting evidence you can ignore the draft pretty comfortably and compete at or near the top of the league.

But even in the TAM era, even after just two weeks there’s Joao Moutinho, Tristan Blackmon, Ken Krolicki, Brandon Bye, Chris Mueller, Mason Toye, Luis Argudo, Niki Jackson… that’s a good haul. And then there are players from last year’s relatively shallow draft like Lalas Abubakar, Jake Nerwinski and Jacori Hayes who’ve made obvious year-over-year improvement, and then there are other guys who will tear it up in USL for a year or two before pushing their way into the full MLS team.

That’s not going to be the story after the first two weeks of MLS. The story is going to be — justifiably — “we’re in a new era of young goalscorers coming from Latin America and the academies.” But it’s a story, and one you should be aware of if you want to understand and appreciate the full scope of the way the league’s been developing.

How the Turntables

Sporting KC, in the midst of some lineup flux, went on the road and got three points. Normally that’s an unvarnished good thing, but I’m choosing to be at least a little bit worried about what we’ve seen out of SKC after two weeks.

In their first outing they lost 2-0 at home to an admittedly very good NYCFC side. In their second they took a 2-0 lead at Chicago, then in very un-Sporting-like fashion, coughed it up and went down 3-2. Then in arguably even more un-Sporting-like fashion they grabbed two late goals via some clinical finishing to take a high-scoring, open and dramatic 4-3 road win at the death.

When is the last time you were able to use the words “seven-goal thriller!” to describe an SKC game? Ben a while.

Even though they were on the right end of the scoreline this is pretty shocking to me, and more than a touch worrying how vulnerable they’ve looked on the defensive side:

#CHIvSKC xG. Oh how the tables turned. pic.twitter.com/q9bEOEe8sI

— Ben Baer (@BenBaer89) March 11, 2018

This is an expected goals map provided by Opta. The larger the circle, the better the chance. Yellow circles are goals.

You can see the total xG they allowed at the top of Ben’s graphic, and 3.48 conceded is a monstrous number. Columbus barely got over three even with a penalty, and RBNY got their four goals on 2.72 xG. Only LAFC (4.9) topped Chicago’s number on Saturday.

Look again at that shot map, and focus on where Chicago’s shots came from. Through two games Sporting have allowed five goals. In 34 games last year, they allowed 29. Through two games Sporting have allowed six shots from inside the six-yard box. in 34 games last year, they allowed… 17.

It pretty much doesn’t matter how well Tim Melia plays (or doesn’t); if you’re giving up three shots per game inside the six, you’re roasted even if you’ve got prime Lev Yashin.

The Fire were able to able to simply drive play right down Sporting’s throat in a way that teams basically haven’t been able to do for almost a decade. In the second half they switched from their typical 4-2-3-1 to a 4-4-2, and then banged cross after cross to the back post. If Aleksandar Katai hadn’t stopped helping out defensively after Chicago took a 3-2 lead — or if Veljko Paunovic had made a sub three minutes earlier — the hosts probably see out the win.

Here’s the scary part about that: In the past, if you switched to a 4-4-2 against Sporting you were dead. They’d just swarm the hell out of you in central midfield, dominate the ball, dominate possession and strangle the game. That didn’t happen on Saturday as Chicago took over 60 percent possession in the second half. SKC’s defensive issues started up top, embiggened in midfield and became almost fatal on the backline.

Peter Vermes has some work to do, and he knows it. He also knows those three points matter more than my nattering.

“I do for sure have to go back and look at the goals that came against us. I have a pretty good idea in my head and I’m not very happy with them but like I said, what’s really easy, especially away from home, you can put your head in the sand and be done. We didn’t do that. And the fact that we got the tying goal and then the winning goal really showed a lot of heart within the group.”

It did. He’s not wrong, and Daniel Salloi in particular deserves some freaking dap. But he’s not going to play like that every week, and they’re not going to finish like that every week. And that means SKC can’t defend like that every week.

They’re not in trouble yet, but if they keep playing like they’ve done through two weeks, they’re pointed at it.

Why Are You The Way That You Are

It’s supposed to be hard to be an expansion team. It’s supposed to be hard to go on the road in MLS. It’s supposed to be especially hard to do so against conference foes, and let’s just add the obvious that it’s supposed to be even harder than that against conference foes who are/were supposed to be good. Seattle made it out of the West and into MLS Cup last year, right? And RSL were the West’s best team in the second half of last season, ok?

Add in the unique-to-MLS experience of going from turf in a rainstorm to the 4400 foot altitude of the high desert in winter, and you arguably couldn’t have drawn up a more daunting “welcome to the league” experience than what LAFC have had over the last two weeks. So naturally they went smash-and-grab in Week 1, then put on an absolute clinic in Week 2. They destroyed RSL by 5-1 at Rio Tinto, and it honestly wasn’t that close.

This game was an avalanche of black-and-gold breakaways with Diego Rossi and Carlos Vela and the ever-underappreciated Marcos Ureña ripping the hosts apart. My colleague Bobby Warshaw broke down the simple principle guiding LAFC’s approach:

As with everything about this game of ours, there’s more than what’s happening on the ball. Bobby points out the direct runs from the wingers, which ripped up RSL’s fullbacks. There were also direct runs from central midfield – notice how Damir Kreilach doesn’t track Benny Feilhaber on that second goal from Bobby’s vid? Never did the fundamental work of checking his shoulder to get a sense of the danger. Add in a sloppy performance from Kyle Beckerman, and that’s how you ship five.

The simplicity and decisiveness of LAFC’s front six (shout-outs to Latif Blessing and Mark-Anthony Kaye, who’s been a revelation) has allowed the back four to play relatively uncomplicated soccer through the first two weeks, and to spend most of their time out there defending a lead rather than chasing the game. Steven Beitashour got two assists this weekend, but for the most part didn’t get that high; Moutinho was asked to support the attack rather than overlap and generate it; the center backs, who can’t really run, were exposed in transition only once.

It feels like this whole thing has been planned out and scripted, down to the touch. Now Bob Bradley’s got three weeks off to do some fine-tuning, maybe add another DP, and see if he can build upon the most impressive start any expansion team’s ever had in MLS history.

A few more things to ponder…

7. Adrian Heath finally got his Orlando homecoming, and it was a very happy one, the least he deserves given what he meant to that franchise during their USL days and then taking them into MLS. Minnesota United won 2-1 behind a pair of goals from Ethan Finlay and Toye made a sterling debut.

Orlando City were shorthanded again, but it’s nonetheless not good enough. Their backline was disorganized, they defend way too narrow and they’ve already dropped five points.

6. Our Pass of the Week comes fromFidel Escobar in RBNY’s 4-0 disintegration of Portland. Bobby and I broke it down:

Here’s what happens when you combine the @NewYorkRedBulls high press with slick, one-touch play. https://t.co/Hjx57WJFMx

— Major League Soccer (@MLS) March 11, 2018

This is called a third-line pass – a pass that splits defenders and cuts them out of the play – and if I were a video analyst with a tracking system I would absolutely, positively be collecting third-line pass data. My hunch is that RBNY play both more and a higher percentage than any other team.

Was it the best pass of the weekend? No. But it was the most emblematic of how a given team plays.

By the way, notice Liam Ridgewell jogging behind the play after Derrick Etienne’s backheel? Timbers fans did.

5. Kei 100! In the 28th minute ofVancouver’s (probably significant) 2-1 win at Houston, the well-traveled Kei Kamara got the 100th goal of his regular season MLS career, converting a penalty he himself drew. He’s now scored for six teams, but at age 33 it looks like he’s finally home. Dude’s simply built for how the ‘Caps play – tons of long balls, a predilection for crosses, and not much emphasis on possession at all. The default setting is “get the center forward into isolation on a single CB” and so he’s rewarded them with two goals in two games.

There was nothing shocking or unexpected about how the ‘Caps played in this one. It’s always shocking, however, to see Houston drop points at home.

My initial impression of the game last night was that the Dynamo had lacked ideas in the attack, but upon a second viewing this morning I have to take that back. They did their usual “get out into space on the flank and use overwhelming speed” thing, but there was also a hefty serving of playing right up the gut. If Mauro Manotas could head the ball even a little bit, Houston probably take three points.

They do need, however, to find some reinforcements along the backline.

4. Columbus got up big, took their foot off the gas and nearly paid for it in an eventual 3-2 win over visiting Montreal. Gyasi Zardes got two more goals and through 180 minutes has looked like one of the league’s better center forwards.

The Impact are, as of now, a very week defensive team. But they’re fun as hell in attack and are showing signs of life in midfield. Expect them to grow into the season.

3. Jackson scored a goal in his debut but Colorado lost 2-1 to the Revs after a deflected Chris Tierney free kick buzzed by a strangely rooted Tim Howard in second-half stoppage. The Rapids played 98 long-balls, which is about 20% higher than any other team in the league. They clearly need a dose of on-the-ball creativity in midfield.

As for the hosts, New England attempted 19 open play crosses – a huge number. They connected on two of them, which is not a huge number.

These two teams, for the time being, lack ideas.

2. Atlanta United started looking a little bit more like last year’s Atlanta United in their 3-1 win over visiting D.C. on Sunday. Turns out it helps to have Jeff Larentowicz in there at d-mid rather than miscast as a center back.

United, on the other hand, lacked structure, cohesion and clarity. They didn’t seem to know how to cover for each other, especially when the fullbacks pushed up:

Armchair Analyst: Nobody loves running lanes the way Atlanta United loves running lanes. DC played themselves. pic.twitter.com/PkHhrnoi5d

— Matthew Doyle (@MattDoyle76) March 11, 2018

Atlanta’s 3-5-2 was interesting, by the way. But it definitely didn’t look as fluid as what they were trotting out a year ago at this time.

1. And finally, our Face of the Week goes to Galaxy ‘keeper David Bingham, whose team lost 2-1 at NYCFC:

We have a contender. pic.twitter.com/iUhMr3gxBp

— Tom Ritz (@ritzfitznbitz) March 11, 2018

I honestly thought that LA were going to get blown out, but they may have been saved by an otherwise unfortunate injury. Gio Dos Santos popped his hamstring in the first half, and so at halftime he was subbed out for defensive midfielder Servando Carrasco, switching the shape from a 4-2-3-1 to more of a 4-3-3, with the wingers higher and Jonathan Dos Santos – whose turnover led to the first NYCFC goal, and who didn’t track on the second – into more of a playmaker’s role.

It worked. LA were more solid in defense, better in possession and more dangerous going forward in the second half (with JDS getting the goal). NYCFC still fully deserved the three points, but at least it was a contest. In the first 45, it wasn’t.

Whether or not Gio maintains his place as a starter whenever he returns from injury is something worth keeping an eye on.

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Armchair Analyst: Sporting's defense, LAFC's attack & more from Week 2 was originally published on 365 Football

#Analyst #Armchair #attack #defense #from #LAFC&039s #more #Sporting&039s #week

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