#like i stop breathing whenever i make eye contact with this can badge and i’m not joking lmao

[akkivee]

i wake up with them and these on my mind and i’m devastated tbh lmao

[tinyinvadr]

New chapter yay!!!

Psychoborrower

Chapter 3

I almost had a heart attack when I made the jump into Raz’s pocket before he left. I got a bit too used to Sasha’s complete obliviousness to my existence that I forgot that most people tend to notice when something small jumps on them.

“Huh? What was that?”

I held my breath as he shook his jacket off. I wasn’t too worried about falling out, but I was definitely concerned this motion would make me throw up. That would easily give me away. And it’s gross.

He gave up pretty quickly once he realized there wasn’t a bug or animal on him, and went off like nothing happened.

Either way, this was probably the stupidest thing I’d ever done. Really. Thanks for guilt tripping me into making up with this kid, Sasha.

On the way there, I overheard his conversations with the other campers, and he came to the conclusion that one of the kids’ brains had been stolen.

Personally, I thought he was just paranoid. The kid in question was Dogen. He’s just like that.

When we got to Milla’s class, he asked Lili about it. It turns out, Raz had a vision in the tumbler about a creepy doctor that perfectly matched up with a nightmare she had been having.

That… was a lot more than paranoia.

Lili ended up leaving class early, but told Raz to meet her later by the lake so they could talk about the situation further.

I tried not to let myself get too worked up about it. After all, none of this concerned me. But at the same time… if Dogen’s brain really was missing, that could mean trouble.

The kid was extremely powerful. Too powerful. To the point where he couldn’t control his own abilities. Head-exploding abilities. And the only thing keeping them at bay was a crumby tinfoil hat. If that brain fell into the wrong hands…

No. Everything was fine. Raz and Lili were just having shared nightmares. That’s… probably normal.

Milla was hesitant to let Raz into her mind, and wasn’t thrilled when she learned Sasha was training him. She has the tendency to be very protective. It took me forever to convince her to train me. Which is kind of strange, because between her, Sasha, and the Coach, her mind is the safest. There are a few Censors here and there, but there aren’t any platforms that you can really fall off of. The course is designed for levitation training, and it accommodates for that very purpose perfectly.

After some convincing, she let us in. Raz wasn’t as shocked by my presence, but he did seem annoyed. As for Milla, she was overjoyed.

“Flint! It’s so good to see you again, darling! And it’s so nice to see you’ve made a friend!”

Raz and I kind of just avoided eye contact for a minute, and Milla stopped dancing on the TV monitor when she took note of the uncomfortable silence.

“Oh, I see… Well, not to worry! A party is the best place to work out your problems, so I’m sure whatever’s going on between you two will sort itself out! Now then, Razputin, I’ve given you your Levitation learner’s permit. Finish the course, and you’ll get your merit badge! Start whenever you’re ready!”

I’d already done the course before, so I just hopped on my Thought Bubble and rolled on ahead.

“Hey! Wait for me!” Raz called after me.

“Sasha said I had to attend class with you. He didn’t say we had to stick together the entire time.”

“But he also said we have to try and get along. If we’re gonna become Psychonauts together-”

“Whoa, together? Where’d you get that from? It would take a miracle for them to let either one of us in, but there’s no way they’d accept both of us. And frankly, I’d question their judgement if they picked you over me, newbie.”

It didn’t take long for him to catch up to me. It was infuriating how quickly he took to every single thing he learned. He was a natural, and I hated it.

“What makes you so sure they won’t take us both? I mean, even if it’s not at the same time, eventually-”

I bumped my Thought Bubble into his, sending him rolling backwards. I was so sick of him. Natural talent. Misguided optimism. He really thought we could be teammates. Maybe in a perfect world that wasn’t pitted against me and actively sought out people like him. Maybe in a world where the game wasn’t rigged in his favor. But no. He was gonna get everything he wanted, and I’d be left with nothing, stuck at this stupid baby camp that I was only a year away from aging out of.

He rebounded from the bump and caught up to me again as I desperately kept trying to lose him.

“I just don’t get what your problem with me is. What did I ever do?”

I kept going, trying to ignore him. Then, he surprised me once again, bouncing right in front of me and bumping me back. It was with a lot less force, but enough to stop me.

“Hey, look. I can tell you’re going through something right now. And… I am too. To tell you the truth, I’m starting to doubt I’ll get there in time. My Dad’s gonna be here tomorrow. He’ll take me back to the circus where I’ll never be allowed to use my powers again. But even if it seems hard, that doesn’t mean we can’t still try, right?”

I sighed, rolling ahead and motioning for him to follow me. We made our way to the first dance platform, where the other campers and several mental dancers were enjoying the party. I sat myself down in one of the lounge seats and pointed to the space next to me until Raz got the hint.

Neither of us spoke for a minute. We just sat there, observing the party. At one point, a mental waitress brought us drinks. I started drinking mine right away while Raz looked at me like I had just committed a crime.

“Um… are these-?”

“Nonalcoholic. Milla would never think of giving a kid the real stuff.”

Even after I told him, he still looked at the glass in his hand like it was full of poison, until he eventually decided it was fine and took a sip.

“It’s good.”

We continued to sit and take in the atmosphere of the party. I knew I had to say something, but I didn’t know where to begin, or how much to reveal. So, I started the simplest way I could.

“I ran away from home too, you know.”

Raz seemed surprised.

“But… you’ve been coming here for years. Didn’t the counselors try to contact your parents?”

I chuckled. “My folks aren’t exactly easy to get in contact with, so they’ve been begrudgingly letting me live here ever since. It’s not like they can do much about it, since no one ever sees me.”

“Why do you do that? The invisibility thing, I mean. And how are you able to hold it for that long? Milka’s invisible pretty much all the time but I still see her between recharges.”

Right. There was another kid at camp that did the whole invisibility thing. Well, she was actually invisible. I just lied about it so no one would realize the real reason they haven’t seen me in the physical world. Ironically, it’s my weakest psychic power.

“I value my privacy. And just because I agreed to talk to you doesn’t mean I have to reveal all my secrets. But it looks like things are pretty hopeless for us right now, so I don’t see much of a point picking a fight with you anymore.”

“It’s not hopeless! There’s something weird going on around camp. Have you seen Dogen lately?”

I nodded. “Yeah. But are you sure his brain is missing?”

“There’s nothing between his ears! I could see right through his head!”

Oh wow, that’s… horrifying, actually.

“I saw a vision in the Brain Tumbler of Dogen with this creepy dentist who said he was gonna take his brain out. I couldn’t get all the way up to the tower without levitation, so that’s why I’m taking this course.”

At that, I got up from my seat and got back on my Thought Bubble.

“In that case, we should get moving. No time to sit around and chat. If this is as serious as you say it is, you need that merit badge ASAP. Follow me, I’ll show you the fastest way through.”

I could see the way his eyes lit up when he realized I was finally gonna help him with training. I hated to admit it, but it did feel nice knowing that this kid looked up to me, even after I was such a jerk to him. It felt like maybe all my training meant something after all.

We made our way up to the next part of the course, where you use your Thought Bubble to roll over dangerous elements. It was really the only major hazard in Mills’s mind, and as long as you levitated like you were supposed to, no harm would come to you.

At least, nothing happened to me. Raz, it turns out, was a special case. He could easily roll over fire, electricity, even radioactive waste. But when he tried to roll over the pool of water, something strange happened. His bubble suddenly popped, and he started flailing around as if something was trying to pull him down.

I grabbed onto him right away and pulled him up so he could get back on his bubble.

“What was that? Water is like, the least lethal obstacle. Why did that one throw you off?”

He looked back at the pool warily as if he could see something in it.

“My family has this problem with water. Psychics cursed all of us to die if we go into any deep body of water. I guess not even my own powers are enough to combat that.”

Wow… With every new thing I learned about psychics, I kept falling into the same trap of thinking I knew everything.

“I didn’t know psychics could curse people.”

“I don’t think it’s common. But… just once was enough to make my Dad hate all psychics. That’s why I ran away. It’s just so frustrating… I never asked for these powers. They’re not going away, and I don’t want them to, either. They’re a part of who I am, but that doesn’t make me evil! And I’m pretty sure he’s also a psychic, so why is he being so hard on me? I just… I’m sorry for dumping all this on you.”

I’d heard this all before in my own mind. Being forced to suppress a major part of yourself in order to please everyone around you… I could understand that from more than one perspective. Against my better judgement, I felt genuinely sorry for the kid.

My parents always told me not to think of humans as being like us. They didn’t deserve our pity because they could never understand how easy they have it compared to us. There was no point in thinking of them as complex people because they would never see us that way. Instead, they were nothing but living obstacles to be avoided.

But Raz knew what it was like to be treated like an outcast, even by his own family. Maybe it wasn’t the same. Maybe he still had it better than I did. Maybe this was all a side effect of me astral projecting as a human for too long. But I didn’t see him as a threat anymore. I saw him for what he was: a lost, scared kid just trying to find himself.

I saw… me.

“Hey, Raz… it’s okay. I get it. And if you ever need to talk, I’m here, okay?”

He nodded, giving a slight smile.

“Thanks, Flint.”

We rolled on ahead to the racetrack, where we won the race, and more importantly, kicked Bobby Zilch’s ass. From there we floated up towards the end of the course, blew up a few Censors, and finally made it to the end, where we were greeted by Milla.

“So glad you could make it! Now the party can really start! Let’s get you that merit badge, darling!”

We didn’t have much time to stick around and party, so Milla let us take our leave after Raz got his badge.

When we were back in our bodies and Raz started to head back to Sasha’s lab, I was lost in thought. For once, it wasn’t in a paranoid way. I was content. Even though I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the full truth, it felt like we were still supporting each other in the physical world. Sure, he had no idea I was in his pocket, but that didn’t matter. I was there as a hidden source of moral support, and he was unknowingly carrying me and sheltering me from danger.

It was sort of like the dynamic I’d come to have with Sasha and Milla, but it was nice to have someone around who was closer to my age. This was the closest I could have to a real friend.

In short, Raz was far from the worst thing to happen at camp. No, that was yet to come…

[shemarmooresfedora]

A Bump in the Road

Summary: You and Spencer had kept your relationship a secret from the team until something changed your plans.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: brief mentions of a case but other than that, just pure fluff!

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: this is the first of my 3 fics for me and @samuel-de-champagne-problems 500 follower co-celebration! the prompts for both of us today were: Accidental Pregnancy, Reader/Spencer looking for excuses to hold the other’s hand, “I need to talk to you…like right now”. To see her fic today and our upcoming prompts: click here!

Masterlist

“Prentiss, Morgan, you go to the neighborhood of the victims. Y/L/N, Reid, go downtown and just look around for anything strange,” Hotch stated, “I need you all to look casual while scoping out the area so try to look like normal citizens and don’t flash your badges.”

Derek raised his shades to put them on but Gideon gently grabbed his arm to stop him, “Less official.”

Emily let out a chuckle, “Let’s go, Morgan.”

“You ready, Spence?” you grabbed the keys.

“Yes, lov- ,” he played it off as a cough, “Yes, Y/L/N.”

“That was a close one,” Spencer said as he adjusted his satchel as you walked out of the police department together.

“You’re the one who keeps almost calling me ‘love’ in the conference room in front of the whole team! And on the jet!” you added with a giggle.

“It’s not my fault!” he insisted, “My brain short-circuits whenever I look at your beautiful face.”

“You’re hard to stay mad at,” you playfully rolled your eyes.

You and Spencer had been dating for about 4 months now. You decided to keep it a secret from the team until your six month anniversary. You didn’t need the teasing at the beginning of your relationship when things were still a bit new and awkward. But now, you both had said ‘I love you’ and you were practically living at his apartment when you weren’t away on cases. It was perfect.

-

You and Spencer were walking down the sidewalk downtown, looking for anyone who seemed to fit the profile.

“Hmmm we seem too official,” you smiled, grabbing his hand, “I guess we have to act like a happy couple. You know, just for the case.”

“Yep, just for the case,” Spencer squeezed your hand, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“For the case,” he grinned.

You cupped his cheeks and pulled him back in for a much longer kiss on the lips.

“For.” you planted butterfly kisses along his jawline, “The.” another kiss, “Case.”

Spencer opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the sound of his phone buzzing in his pocket.

“Hotch,” he said before swiping accept and putting it on speaker phone, “Hey Hotch. You’ve got me and Y/L/N.”

“Morgan and Prentiss caught the unsub trying to grab another victim off the street. They fit the profile to a tee. We’re bringing them in for questioning but we’ll take shifts. You and Y/L/N can go back to the hotel and get some rest first.”

“Alright, thanks Hotch,” Spencer hung up the phone.

“Oh I think there’s one more thing we have to do when we get back to the hotel room…for the case,” you winked, pulling him back to the SUV with your hands still interlocked.

-

You were in the bathroom stall of the sixth floor, anxiously bouncing your legs up and down.

The timer on your phone started vibrating, indicating the time was up. You stared at the stick in front of you, waiting to be flipped over.

You flipped it over quickly like ripping off a band-aid. Two lines. The second one was faint but definitely there. You were pregnant. 5 months into a relationship with Spencer.

You rolled the test up in toilet paper before placing it in your purse. You washed your hands and splashed some cold water on your face. You took a deep breath before walking back into the bullpen like you hadn’t just received life-altering news.”

You grabbed a random file from your desk as you passed by and approached Spencer’s desk. He looked up from his paperwork with a soft smile as he saw you coming.

“I need to talk to you…like right now,” you whispered, “About the Johnson case,” you spoke a little louder so no one would question what you two were whispering about.

Spencer began to stand and grab his jacket to follow you but Penelope came charging into the room, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards her bat cave.

“Actually, Penelope, I have to ask Spencer some questions about a case. I’ll come find you in a bit.”

Spencer nodded to back you up.

“Trust me, the news I have is wayyy more important,” Penelope continued to tug at you.

“Penelope, I really need to finish this. Just give me the highlights now,” you resisted her pull.

“I found a pregnancy test box in the bathroom and I didn’t find the stick. I’m no profiler but usually people would only keep the test with them if it’s positive,” she confessed, “Someone on this floor is pregnant!”

Your eyes widened and you mentally slapped yourself on the forehead. How could you forget to throw the box away?

You made eye contact with Spencer, shooting him a sheepish grin as if to say ‘surprise?!’

Penelope started to drag you along again but Spencer grabbed a hold of your other arm.

“Actually, Hotch really needs her to get this done, Garcia. I promise she’ll be over as soon as we finish it.”

Penelope and Spencer were engaged in an intense staring battle with you in the middle.

“Ugh, fine! I’ll just have to gossip with Morgan! Now you don’t get to know all my theories,” Penelope huffed.

“I’m sorry, Penelope. I’ll make it up to you at lunch tomorrow.

As she clicked away with her high heels on, Spencer pulled you into a supply closet.

“You’re pregnant?!” he asked.

“Um, yeah I am. I understand if this isn’t what you want though, it’s not really the timing either of us had in mind,” you spoke softly, rubbing your arm.

Spencer pulled you in for a hug, “I’m happy if you’re happy. I’ll support whatever decision you make. I can schedule you an appointment at the clinic and I’ll be right by your side the whole time. But if you do decide to have this child, have no doubt that I will be there every step of the way with you in raising them.”

“I think I’m going to keep it,” you smiled softly.

“We’re having a baby?” Spencer beamed.

“You’re gonna be a dad, Spence.”

The closet door swung open, revealing a confused Anderson.

“I don’t know why this is so emotional for you, Reid. We’re out of paper clips,” you crossed your arms as Spencer wiped his happy tears away.

Anderson grabbed some extra staples and scurried out of the closet.

“Most women tend to find out they’re pregnant from 4 to 7 weeks and we’ve been together for 15,” Spencer stated.

“Even your sperm is smart. They managed to get past my birth control so quickly,” you laughed.

-

You and Spencer decided to wait to tell the team until the end of your first trimester. After that, you couldn’t put it off any longer because you were beginning to show slightly if you wore tight shirts. Also, it was killing Spencer to have to pretend that his child was not inside your tummy all day.

You tried to schedule ultrasounds before or after work but sometimes one of you would have to take the day off in advance for ‘a family thing’ while one of you would mysteriously ‘fall ill’ the day of.

Your doctor had just given you the all clear that the baby was perfectly healthy at the end of the first trimester so you were ready to tell the team.

You wore a tight shirt with a jacket over it for the announcement. You let go of Spencer’s hand right before he entered the bullpen.

“See you on the other side,” you winked before sneaking off to the other entrance of the round table room.

You heard Spencer ask if everyone could join him in the conference room for a special announcement.

“What’s all this about, Kid?” Derek asked.

“I have been dating someone for just over 7 months now and she is amazing, beautiful, smart, kind, and I love her so so much. We found out about two months ago that she is pregnant. We actually just got back from the final ultrasound of the first trimester,” Spencer announced.

The team was speechless for about a minute.

“Congratulations,” Hotch finally spoke for everyone.

“WHO IS IT?” Penelope asked.

“She’s actually right out here. I have a feeling you’ll like her,” Spencer smiled.

You stripped off your jacket so your belly bump was on full display as you entered the room.

“Hi guys,” you waved as Spencer wrapped his arms around you from behind and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

The team erupted into gasps and cheers.

“You…and her???” Derek couldn’t seem to process this new information, “How did a group of profilers miss this?”

“Because my boyfriend is a genius,” you grinned up at him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“No, my girlfriend is way smarter. She scheduled all of the ultrasounds and how to get the time off,” Spencer smiled down at you.

“Okay, we’re both geniuses so the baby will be a genius too,” you concluded.

Spencer bent down to give your belly a kiss as the team ‘aww’ed.

taglist (just ask to be added or removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly

[spectaclespencer]

P.H. // Part 1; Alone

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A/N; Here’s the first chapter! Let me know what you think <3 this is based off of this request I got. Any and all feedback is appreciated. Please know I know this theme/part has little to nothing to do with the actual meaning of the song, but some lines work if you ignore the rest 😅

Summary; After Gideon leaves, Reader takes up chess to comfort Spencer through the difficult time.

Category; Fluff, Angst(?), Hurt/Comfort

Content Warnings; Sad Spencer otherwise none!

Word Count; 3.5k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next

It started when I found Spencer one morning. He had fallen asleep on a chair at the bau, and he explained to me that he’d been waiting for Gideon because he promised to play chess with Spencer that night.

“Is Hotch in yet?”

“No, he will be soon. We have a case, JJ is gonna brief us and we leave in 30.”

He thanked me and left the room, with his head down. He kept the same mood during the briefing, he kept drifting off as JJ was talking. Spencer was known to be stuck in his head often, but this was far more unusual behaviour. I figured maybe he slept wrong, or maybe just was simply looking forward to playing chess with Gideon. That was their usual routine, to have a game or two after cases to relax. It was understandable to see him on edge after not hearing from him all night.

As we got on the jet he didn’t sit with me on the couch right away as he usually did, instead he walked over to Hotch in the back corner. I craned my neck to try and see what he was doing and hear what he was saying. He spoke in soft whispers, seemingly asking questions I assumed were about Gideon’s presence. I saw Hotch shake his head, to which Spencer’s expression dropped. He thanked him, then made his way over to the couch beside me.

“You okay?” I asked.

He gave me a quick nod -- yet didn’t meet my eyes -- then curled up at the end of the couch to presumably take a nap before we landed.

We were all worried about Gideon, none of us had heard from him since the last case. We figured he just needed a break from the chaos; having a loved one die would take a toll on any of us. It was logical really, any one of the team would need time to recover when presented with that situation.

Spencer remained more quiet throughout the case, not engaging in conversation when it wasn’t crucial to the work. We ended up sharing rooms but even then he didn’t budge. He mostly sat in the corner and played chess against himself, often zoning out and staring at the wall. It was hard to see, and even harder to sit back and let him try to get through it. I could tell he was fighting himself in his head, probably going over scenarios on Gideon’s whereabouts. I imagine the stress was affecting him heavily -- or at least it was clear with the way his forehead had been creased all night.

Chess. Nobody on the team had a fair shot at him besides Gideon. Sitting there staring at the pieces probably wasn’t doing him too good, only making him worry more.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care because I did, but when it comes to certain things Spencer can be defensive and refuse help, so I wanted to give him a chance to get better. It wasn’t unlike him to refuse help, and I didn’t want to make the situation worse by opening my mouth. Instead, I opted to ask, “Mind if I join in for a game?”

“What? Uh- no it’s fine. I mean, okay yes. Sure,” Spencer stuttered, spooked by my sudden appearance beside him.

“Stop slouching, you’re gonna make your posture even worse,” I chuckled lightly, patting his shoulder to remind him. He shot me a small smile, watching as I rounded the table to sit across from him. I wasn’t too good of a player, but I wanted to make Spencer feel just a little less alone.

“Do you even know how to play?”

“Ouch,” I mocked offense, slapping a hand over my heart. “So cruel, Spencer.”

He raised his eyebrows in a form of asking again, to which I replied with, “Kind of. I haven’t played for years but I’ve observed you.”

“Y-you’ve observed me?” Spencer questioned, resetting the chess pieces on the board.

“Well, yeah. Kind of hard not to. You’re a pretty interesting guy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

I smiled when he finally made eye contact with me. He looked tired -- more so than usual -- with his eyebags a deeper shade than they were normally.

The game didn’t last long. In only seven minutes, he managed to beat me. I groaned at my loss, lips pulled into a tight line. Spencer didn’t react, however.

“Okay that’s enough for me,” I said, heading over to the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. “Goodnight Spence. Get some sleep. No offense but you look like you need it.”

He hummed at me, cleaning up the table before he climbed into his own bed.

I could tell he didn’t sleep much that night, as he kept a lamp on and littered his bed with various books. He looked cute, all swaddled up in the blanket he brings with him on every case for a sense of stability. His glasses were perched on his nose, and he was chewing his fingernails -- a habit I’ve tried to get him to kick over the past two years.

We didn’t talk during the night, but we both knew that each other were awake. I was kept up by my thoughts, trying to figure out how to get Spencer out of his slump. Re-learning how to play chess seemed like a decent enough idea -- yet one that would take some time. I was proved tonight that my skill needed to be greatly improved. It was nice in the moment, but realistically it would take a few weeks, if not more, to get the hang of.

The next day at the precinct I was stationed at the map, trying to figure out our geographical profile. I heard faint chattering coming from outside, and looked over my shoulder to see Spencer and Derek talking. I couldn’t hear much, but I did get that Spencer mumbled about calling Gideon, to which Derek answered that he might’ve just missed the call. It was possible, but likely deeper than that.

“Six times? Six calls? Something’s wrong,” Spencer sighed, rubbing his eyes.

I didn’t intervene with the conversation, instead deciding to finally speak to him about it after the case had ended.

On the last day, we all headed to our rooms after grabbing some dinner, to get a good rest before we took off early the next morning.

“Hey Spence, you awake?”

He hummed in response, and I could hear the rustle of the sheets as he rolled over in his bed to face me.

“I know you’re worried about Gideon. How about when we get back tomorrow I’ll drive you down to his cabin? We can go check on him.

“Would you really?” he asked softly. I couldn’t see him fully in the darkness, but I could sense he was looking at me with pleading eyes.

“Of course. I don’t like seeing you this stressed and down. I want to help.”

“Thanks ____, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

After our conversation it was like a blanket of grey was lifted over his head. He settled in more, drifting off to sleep within minutes. I hated seeing him sad, and I did my best to try and fix his mood whenever I could. Spencer didn’t like change, I knew that, and the team knows that. A part of me had a sneaking suspicion that Gideon wasn’t coming back, and I had fear for what that would mean for Spencer.

-----

“Do you want me to come in with you?” I asked, pulling up in front of the cabin and turning off the engine. The only sounds were the faint hum of rain outside, splattering against the windows.

Spencer shook his head and took a deep breath, before unbuckling himself and opening his door. He mumbled something about being right back, as he headed off towards the building. It wasn’t dark yet -- only being four pm -- but it wasn’t too light either.

It looked as if the lights inside the cabin were off, and I could just hardly see Spencer as he knocked on the door. He waited on the porch for a moment, waiting to see if anyone would come to the door.

Nobody did.

It was hard to just sit there and watch, as his desperation grew stronger by the millisecond.

-----

I took deep breaths, trying to even out my intake of air and remain calm. When nobody answered the fifth time that I knocked, I reluctantly grabbed a hold of the knob and turned it. Much to my surprise the door opened, creaking inch by inch as I stood there unmoving.

“Gideon?” I called into the home, taking one step inside. “Jason?”

I wasn’t greeted with an answer, he didn’t come to the door and thank me for coming to visit. It was eerily quiet -- so quiet I took a few more steps inside to create some sort of volume.

“Hello?” I spoke again, louder this time. Shutting the door behind me I took off my jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the entrance.

The place had been mainly cleared out, there weren’t many personal items behind. I stalked over to the kitchen, to see if there was any trace of someone within the last few days. It’s been officially a week and a half since anyone had last heard from him that I was aware of. I thought someone must have eaten, or at least left a bit of a mess behind them that would signal a presence.

As I turned the corner to enter the new room I noticed something on the table. I stopped in my tracks, leaning down to take a closer look.

Gideon’s badge, gun, and an envelope.

I swallowed thickly, walking around the table and took a seat in front of the items. When I saw the envelope had my name on it, my heart dropped. With shaky hands I picked up the paper and opened it, seeing there was a letter inside.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me.

You must be frightened, I apologize for that. I never meant to cause you any pain. But then I also never envisioned writing this letter. I’ve searched for a satisfactory explanation for what I’m doing, all I’ve come up with is: a profiler needs to have solid footing. I- I don’t think I do anymore. The world confuses me. The cruelty, indifference, tragedy.

I stopped there, my eyesight becoming blurry from tears. I shoved the letter in my pocket, not caring at the moment if it got crumpled or not.

I was out of the cabin in no time -- choosing not to stay there and sulk in a deeper sadness.

-----

Waiting in the car for Spencer felt like torture. It was difficult, letting him go in there alone to be met with possibly no answers. I was thrown out of my thoughts by the sound of the cabin door slamming shut, Spencer jogging over to the car.

“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked, red flags hanging immediately as he climbed in the car, tear soaked face pointed down towards his lap. It took me a moment to realize he was crying -- the rain had completely soaked through his top layer of clothes. He didn’t reply with words, instead reaching into his pants pocket to retrieve a piece of paper. He handed it over to me, still not meeting my eyes.

I unfolded it and began to read -- it was hard, through the tear stains smudging the ink across the page.

“Oh, Spence…” I whispered and stopped after the first few sentences, leaving the rest for him. I didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him.

“He’s gone,” Spencer sniffled, wiping his eyes on the sleeves of his nearly drenched jacket. “He just left. He didn’t say goodbye. He left me a note,” he froze, taking a few deep breaths. “Just like my dad did when I was a kid.”

“It’ll be okay. Wherever he is, I’m sure he’s okay,” I assured him. “You know he cares about you, right?”

“I know he is. It’s just-” he started, trying to find the right words between his gasping for more air. “Can you just take me home, please.”

I nodded, while turning the car back on to drive away. Spencer kept his gaze towards the window, refusing to let me see his face. I’m selfishly almost glad for it, because I don’t know if seeing his heartbreak is something I could handle.

It was a long, quiet drive, taking around an hour and a half to finally reach his apartment. He scrambled out of the car fast, but I still walked him up as I usually did. He got to the door before me, thanking me for driving him home. He shut the door just as I got fully up the stairs, leaving me standing with my mouth open.

‘Baby, when you fought me at the door

Kinda hard to force what's natural

Maybe you don't want what you need most’

-----

The next day when he came over after work he was almost back to normal. It was weird to see, to see such a shift in his behaviour after less than twenty-four hours. As much as he tried to hide it, I could tell just how hard it was for him. The sudden change didn’t go well with anyone, we’d all been informed that Gideon wouldn’t be returning and that he’d moved on from the BAU. It was especially hard on Spencer too, since Elle had just left not too long ago, and then Emily joined the team. First he loses a friend, someone who truly understood him as I did, and then someone he considered a father figure.

And neither of them had said goodbye to his face. It was scary, knowing a member of your team could walk out and never return before you know it.

We were seated on the couch, a game of chess displayed on the middle cushion between us.

It wasn’t anywhere near a fair game -- Spencer’s skills were still far ahead of mine. However I noticed it made him smile, and that’s all I wanted. For him to feel loved, and secured. It was a sense of grounding, a routine that was regular in his life. I still wasn’t very good -- not having played since high school and that night on the last case. But I downloaded an audiobook and several player’s guides for the plane ride home to study, because I wanted to learn for Spencer’s sake. However I soon realized it was easier to watch Spencer and how he plays, and to ask him questions. He seemed to enjoy it, having someone else in his life to play with.. And he loved to teach, to help people learn. He was so good at it too, his big brain being used to help people no matter the context.

Eventually he won the game as usual, causing me to groan in frustration..

“You bastard.”

“Not my fault you kinda suck,” he laughed bashfully, lips curling up into a small smile. It was nice to see a bit of happiness on his face, no matter how temporary.

“You’re so rude to me,” I joked, moving the board to the coffee table. “I thought we were friends.”

It was silent for a few moments, with me figuring out what I was going to say next.

“Spencer I know you haven’t wanted my help, but please tell me what I can do for you. Tell me how you feel, at least?”

‘Maybe you don't want what you need most’

“It’s nothing, ____,” he breathed, looking away from me and instead at the wall the couch was facing. He could see our reflection on the blank tv, and instead opted to just look down at his lap. “I’m better now.”

‘You ain't even there for me

Now you're scared to be alone’

“Respectfully, that’s bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on. I know you don’t want to talk about this but at least give me something. Don’t keep it all in. It’s not healthy.”

His face screwed up at my words, eyebrows furrowed and lips twitching. I could tell he knew I was right, as much as he hated it.

“I’m just- I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Spencer whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear.

‘Got me thinkin' that you scared of yourself, not me’

It all made sense -- the way he’d been distancing himself lately. It took me promising candy and Star Trek for him to come over tonight, and even then he almost declined. Too many blows to the heart made him afraid to get attached. He didn’t want anyone else from his life to disappear in a flash.

“Look at me,” I said, and he snapped his head to face me. “I’m not going anywhere. I can’t claim to be far in the future, but right now? I’m here. You’re stuck with me for a while, Spencer.”

He smiled, closing his eyes as a stray tear graced across his cheek. I used my thumb to wipe it away, and pulled him into a tight hug. He relaxed against me, I felt the tensions in his shoulders deflate as I held him.

“I’ve got you,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. His breath shuddered, and he wrapped his arms around my middle tighter, pushing his face into my shoulder to muffle his crying.

We sat for a while, my hands tracing patterns along his back. It took a few minutes for his cries to calm down, but eventually his breathing evened out with only a few hiccups here and there. He was practically sitting in my lap with his legs flung over mine, suddenly not caring about his personal space. I couldn’t blame him -- the boy was so touch starved he so clearly craved all contact he consented to.

“Do you want to spend the night?” I asked, quietly so I didn’t scare him with the sudden sound.

“Could I please?”

“Of course,” I smiled, pulling away. He still held on tight, not wanting to let go.

We made our way to my bedroom, repeating our usual routine. This wasn’t the first time we’d had a sleepover, and it won’t be the last I’m sure. Sometimes after particularly harder cases he would spend the night, just to be close to someone.

I went into the bathroom to change, giving him the opportunity to do the same. When I returned, he was dressed in a t-shirt and flannel pants he left at my place for sleepovers like this. He was already in bed, and when he saw that I was done in the bathroom he lifted the side of the blanket to welcome me in.

I joined him, grinning as he scooted over and pressed his back to my chest. I felt him breathing softly, my right arm slung over his torso to bring him in closer. He held onto my hand, and didn’t let me drift away. I was happy to comply, happy to feel his body warmth radiate through me.

“Thank you, ____. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Spence.”

From that day on for the foreseeable future, I swore to myself to have check-ins with Spencer whenever it seemed necessary. Whether it was in the form of words, sleepovers, movie nights, or chess.

His smile got brighter everyday, and eventually he no longer felt as much weight on himself a few weeks down the road. He still cried to me about how he missed Gideon, but it had gotten less frequent. And I was always there for him, offering my shoulder and the promise of my embrace. I knew he appreciated it too.

After a few months since our first game, I beat him in a game of chess. We were on the jet on the way to Montana for a case, and Derek was sitting beside Spencer. He kept annoying him, doing little things like twisting his hair and fanning him with files. Spencer kept shrieking quietly -- trying not to alert Hotch of the bickering.

“Checkmate,” I said, biting back a smile.

“What?!” Spencer froze, arm raised in what looked like to be a poor attempt of whacking Derek’s head.

“Awe, pretty boy. You’ll get her next time,” Derek threw his head back in laughter.

“What?” Spencer repeated quieter, eyes darting across the board, likely running calculations in his head.

“Better luck next time,” I smirked, tilting my head to the side. I wiggled my eyebrows, my small victory boosting my ego.

Spencer tried to keep a neutral face, but I could see by the tension in his cheekbones that he was happy. He was enjoying it.

-----

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[boldlyvoid]

Of Quartz I Will

Amethyst You So Much✨ Part 2: Of Quartz I Will

Summary: after 2 years of dating, Spencer decides it's finally time to get Y/N something to match her Amethyst bracelet.

Warnings: fluff, gun violence, shooting tw, Reid's season 5 knee injury, hurt/comfort, emotional smut, body massage, hand jobs, riding, penetrative sex.

word count: 6K

Spencer notices her as she walks in, through the briefing room window, she’s wearing his purple shirt. He wanted to wear that for work today but couldn’t find it anywhere, now he knows why.

“Excuse me,” he says to his group of teammates as they contribute reading case files.

“Hey,” Spencer grabs her attention from the railing beside the briefing room. “I’ve been looking for that shirt everywhere.”

“It’s mine now,” she smiles, setting her things down at her desk for the night. “I’ll buy you a new purple dress shirt.”

“Buy yourself one, I like that one,” he whines.

“Finders keepers, doctor Reid. Either stop leaving your shit on my bedroom floor or move in already.”

Everyone hears it. All eyes are on them as they bicker in the middle of the bullpen, including the team of profilers just beyond the window.

“Okay,” he agrees. “We’ll talk about this later.”

She climbs the stairs quickly, giving him a good morning hug even though it was 9pm. “I love you, that’s why I’m wearing your shirt.”

He smiles against her shoulder as he holds her, “I love you, more so in my shirt.”

When he sits back down at his chair at the round table, everyone is waiting with a raised brow. They want details, they want his opinion, they want to hear him stutter and see him blush like he used to. But he doesn’t.

“Yes, I will be moving in with her. We have people to save,” Spencer reminded them. Avoiding eye contact and flipping through the files.

Derek tugs on his amethyst bracelet, he hasn’t taken it off since he got it, almost 2 years ago. “Are you ever going to get her any other jewellery?”

“When she goes home I’ll show you,” he whispers, still avoiding eye contact as they all gasp. “Keep it cool or I will kill you.”

He keeps an eye on her at her desk, smiling when she looks up to see him. She blows him a kiss and waves softly a few times, but other than that, they don’t talk for the rest of the day.

—

The next time She sees him, he’s in her bed sound asleep as she’s coming home from work. She sits on the edge of the bed and brushes his hair away from his face to wake him up gently, he blinks into the morning sunlight to see her.

“Good morning,” he smiles.

She’s in his pink shirt today. She liked to keep something of his close on bad cases that take him out of town. In this case, out of the country. He was in Canada for a few days, the case was horrific and she had to deal with all the office work in Penelope’s absence.

“Amethyst,” she whispers, it was part of their secret code.

Spencer, being a cunning linguist, he loved anagrams.

They had Amethyst for I miss you, Quartz for of course, and Olive for I love you. It was easier to keep the PDA to a minimum at work, not wanting to sit in a seminar like Derek and Penny about sexual misconduct and hostile work environments.

“Olive,” Spencer replies, pulling her down into the bed so she can cuddle in.

“We can’t stay, there’s another case. JJ told me to bring you in on my way home,” she explains softly. “They need you to go to ER Doctor Barton’s house, in McLean, he got a note saying someone was going to kill his son. So far they’ve also connected him to a few surrogate kills of Hispanic men, they need the speed reader to go through all his recent surgeries.”

He sighs, holding her tightly and snuggling in against her back, “no.”

She laughs, “Spencer, you can read really fast and the faster you read the faster you can come home to me.”

“Fine,” she has perfect logic, he always tells her that. “Are you driving me to the guy's house?”

“Yep, so we can stop for coffee and talk in the car, I really did miss you a lot,” she struggles out of his grasp to turn and face him, opting to hold his face in her hands as she looks at him. He’s exhausted, just like her.

“I missed you too, I’m sorry I was gone so long,” his voice is barely a whisper, “We should take a day off together soon.”

“Yeah,” she smiles wider, completely in love with him. “I’d really like that, maybe we can look at apartments?”

“Apartments?” He repeats the word with a grin, raising his eyebrow softly. “I thought you liked it here?”

“It’s too small, I want to get a cat, if you’re bringing your closet here we’re going to need a bigger one,” she ranted. “And actually, I was thinking if you’re on the same page as me and this is a long-term thing for you too, what if we just got a bigger place and got a mortgage and start a little life outside the FBI, together?”

He’s so in love with her, “get my bag?” Is all he can say.

“What?” She’s so confused, shaking her head softly as she comprehends it.

“On the floor there, grab my bag, please there’s something for you in there,” he points behind her, trapped under her and the blanker so it’s not like he could get it himself.

She gets up, placing the bag on the bed for him as she watches him dig through it for a little box. “Arminius helped me pick this out.”

He had become best friends with the owner of the rock shop, she wasn’t surprised to hear that he had gotten something else from there for him. It made her giggle with excitement, bouncing softly as Spencer sat up and moved his bag out of the way.

But then he got out of bed, he’s in a pair of purple boxers and his hair is a mess and he’s so nervous and she has no idea why until he gets down on one knee.

“I was waiting to do this.”

“Holy shit.”

He nods with a shaky laugh, “yeah, I’m in it long term if you are?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to drive you to work now?” She laughs, unable to stop smiling as the two of them stare hopelessly at each other. She hasn’t even looked at the ring yet, too occupied with the wonderfully happy look on his face.

“Quartz,” is all she can say, flabbergasted as she keeps laughing with a shocked smile.

He takes it from the box and she watches as he slides the most beautiful purple Amethyst ring over her ring finger and then her hands are back on his cheeks. Pulling him into a kiss, she can’t seem to hold him close enough as she breathes in. Holding her breath as she keeps him there.

He pulls away with a laugh, “when are we supposed to be there?”

“Now.”

“Damn,” they’re all giggles.

And it doesn’t stop, she takes off Spencer’s shirt and he puts it on instead, matching it with a vest and a tie while she makes him a coffee and can’t stop smiling as she glances at the ring.

It really only made sense for their engagement to happen in the same place she fell in love with him.

Sure, she liked him a lot when he was getting her rocks and she really wanted to get to know him more after his last note, but it was the bracelet that made her fall in love. He went out of his way to make her smile on what felt like the worst day of her life, and she knew she wanted forever with him from then on out. Now she was going to get it, she was going to be Agent Y/N Reid, and her ring was absolutely perfect.

He catches her taking photos of it in the sunshine when he comes out of the bedroom. She still can’t stop smiling, it’s just so perfect and she’s just so in love with him.

They get muffins from the bakery under her apartment before getting in her car, “where is it?” Spencer asks, playing the role of GPS whenever they drove together.

“120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia,” she members it clearly.

“Take a right,” Spencer smiles, and she’s off.

She drives with one hand, looking at her ring almost more than the road as Spencer held her other one. She pulled up to the Doctor’s house and he didn’t want to leave. Sighing, he looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

“I will see you when you get home, I’m going to call out after this case is done and you get mandatory 24 hours off for back-to-back cases,” she said, knowing protocol almost better than him. “Go to work.”

“Fine,” he frowns again, getting out of the car and walking around to her door. She rolls the window down and tilts her chin up, leaning out for the kiss he’s waiting to give her.

“Let me know when you’re done, I can come and pick you back up,” she whispers against his lips between kisses.

One last smooch and he pulls away, backing up so he isn’t tempted to stay any longer, “olive.”

“Olive,” she replies with a smile, waving slightly before he disappears behind the door.

She releases a long sigh, melting into the chair as she lets the butterflies swarm around a bit in her stomach, it felt wonderful.

She went home, napped from 10 till 2 and then sat in bed to stare at her beautiful ring for a little while. She couldn’t believe he proposed just like that. All she asked was if he wanted to get a mortgage on a house and she guesses he heard "spend the rest of your life with me."

Sometimes, when Spencer was on a case in Virginia and too busy to keep her updated, she would turn on the police radio and listen to what was going on around in the area. It was good to keep her mind preoccupied and to remind herself that he was safe.

At least that’s what it used to do.

“Shots fired at 120 Kensington Road, McLean Virginia, 10-999, 11-41, all units in the area are requested.”

“10-999, officer down, 11-41, send ambulances,” she whispers to herself, remembering all the dispatch lingo from the office.

She doesn’t have time to panic, she unlocks her safe and grabs her gun, loading it and then she’s out the door, in her car and pulling up behind the sheriff's car as she’s running out.

She tosses her badge up to show the cops as she tries to run onto the scene, “I’m an FBI agent on his team, let me through!”

She slides her knees along the grass, surely ruining her jeans as she dives for him. She places a hand on his bloody knee and looks everywhere else, “are you okay? Are you good? Holy shit, Spence?”

Her breathing is so heavy, she clutches her chest with her left hand and tries to calm down as he looks up at her and they breathe in and out a few times without breaking eye contact. He’s completely fine, there’s just a bullet in his knee, he assures her.

“I’m fine,” he laughs lightly, wincing at the pain as he leans forward to kiss her gently.

She’s there only 2 minutes before Derek, JJ and Rossi are pulling up on the scene. Everyone huddled around them on the grass as the EMTs bandaged his knee up before taking him to the ambulance.

“You need to call Emily,” Spencer speaks over everyone, “something happened to Hotch, I’m fine here with Y/N, just go see him.”

He was always going to be fine with her, that was for sure. She never left his side, except when they took him in for surgery and forced her back into the waiting room. But as soon as he was okay again, his hand was in hers.

—

He was given a month off after his knee surgery, but he still ended up in the office most nights. Becoming more of a night owl than usual as he accompanied his fiancé to her desk and sat beside her as she did her work. It was really nice to spend time with her and not have to do anything.

Of course, he filled his time by going over other case files, things they weren’t able to get to as a team and things that didn’t fit the criteria of the BAU. He made phone calls and sent emails, helping small-town cops make simple connections and doing more good that way.

He sat at her desk, his leg resting over her lap as she made a few phone calls. Handing the background of the cases, filing off invoices and approvals. Dispatching units and requesting files and overrides from other departments. She was amazing.

She hangs up the phone, finally, after 45 minutes of rolling her eyes and sighing as she was transferred from office to office all around America. She places her hand on his leg and absentmindedly runs her hand along his shin, staring off at the desk, silently.

“Are you okay?”

She nods, “do you think you’re healed enough to start looking at places?”

He nods back, “actually, I already found one. Hold on,” he slides his leg off her lap and stands with his crutches, hobbling over to his desk where he looks through his files for a new folder.

When he comes back to her, he places the folder in her hands, “forever homes,” is listed on the tag and he sees her heart melt in her eyes. She opens the folder as he sits down, there are about 15 pages of house and apartment listings printed off.

“When did you do all this?” She whispered, shocked and not wanting to cry at work.

“Before I got shot, I was on the phone with Penelope and I asked her to help me find some, she printed off like 50 and I selected the good ones, but there’s more if you don’t like an-“

“Babe,” she cut the rant short, “I’m sure I’ll love any of them, as long as they come with you.”

He pulls a specific sheet from the pile, “this one is my favourite.”

She can see why, it’s a large, green exterior, Victorian home. There’s a turret and a porch, large windows with a bench seat in the kitchen. A garage, 4 bedrooms, a finished basement, a study and a pretty nice backyard.

“It’s a bit of a fixer-upper, but Derek said he’s willing to help teach me how to fix some stuff,” Spencer pressed his lips together awkwardly. He really wanted this on.

“Let’s get a Realtor and set up a walk-through,” she agreed, “and we should bring Derek because he’ll know more than most inspectors anyway. I don’t want to get a place with a cracked foundation or a faulty water heater.”

He smiled again, “remember last week when I had that extra appointment?”

She tilted her head, “no, there is no way you’ve already been there to check it out without me.”

“And I put an offer in, but I was waiting for your approval,” he adds, nervous for her to hate it.

“With what money? I thought we were doing this together?” He’s not sure why she’s upset, normally she loves his surprises.

“When I sold my moms house, I invested the money and it’s been gaining interest for years now,” his voice is soft, “I got through college with scholarships and if I was ever down on money I just had to go to one casino and I always leave with two grand, minimum, I promise, I’m really in this for the long run. I know what I'm doing.”

She smiles, picking up the listing and calling the agency. “Hi this is Y/N Y/L/N calling, my fiancé, Doctor Spencer Reid, recently put an offer in on the listing for 247 Chestnut Drive, I’d love to come and see it soon and take some measurements and things. If you could call me back…”

Spencer is so in love with her it hurts. He wants to scream right then and there, like a kettle on a hot stove for too long, he’s bursting at the seams. She hangs up the phone with the best smile he’s ever seen, “I’m going home early, cause I’m sick, care to join me?”

She stands then, putting her hand out for him so he could stand with her help. “Quartz,” he replies, taking her hand and stands, she gathers their things and she clocks out. No one really cared about all her sick days, she did her job well and they wanted the good doctor to be taken care of.

When he finally gets to show her the inside of the house, she is so in love with it. The hardwood is all original, same with the railings, shelves, banisters and countertops. They're all rustic and beautiful, she can’t help but run her finger over everything as she looks around with an open mouth. X

The kitchen cabinets are green, there is a beautiful colourful wallpaper as a backsplash… and it’s completely empty. It was a remodel, some house flippers did it up and didn’t want to stay. It was made more modern, updated appliances and every safety protocol met. It was perfect.

She turned to him with a smile after only 5 minutes of looking, “this is it.”

“Good,” the women showing them around said, “because your offer was approved, with your say so I can get everything started with escrow.”

“Holy shit!” Y/N cheered, jumping a bit and showing off while Spencer just leaned on his crutch. She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek a few times.

“You can start that paperwork,” Spencer smiled, holding her back with his face in the crook of her neck.

—

The hardest part of moving is transporting all of Spencer’s books from one home to another. It's at least 30 boxes of books and Derek will be faxing his chiropractor bill to Spencer within the week.

His office here was huge, floor-to-ceiling oak shelves and green walls, full of all his books and belongings now. It was his own space in the house he shared with his future wife.

It felt crazy to him.

She used to just be the cute girl in the office, he can remember the exact moment he laid eyes on her. She was walking around aimlessly with some files in her hands when he turned around at his desk. She looked lost, overwhelmed and like she was about to have a breakdown.

She looked at him with the same fear he felt on his first day, he took the file from her and knew exactly where it was meant to go. She followed behind him, quiet as a mouse as he placed it in a folder by the wall under a sign that said "Anderson."

He turned with a press-lipped smile and a nod and then they went their separate ways. Silent conversations became their thing, the only time he really heard her voice was when she called him in in the middle of the night or when he heard her on the phone.

Other than that; she smiled when they passed each other, she’d tap her watch when he needed to be doing something Hotch asked for and was preoccupied with something else, she even knew exactly what he was looking for by just observing his chaos. Always able to pull a sheet of paper from the bottom of the stack with ease, and always silently, until that one day she said sorry to him after slamming the phone.

Now he knows that she talks in her sleep, she likes to go over her plans out loud in the shower every morning, and she sings all day long. Be it little tunes, hums, random tongue clicks or whistling, she’s always making noise. His favourite, however, was when sometimes she’d remember something she was trying to remember during a conversation they had, 4 days prior, and she’d scream it out like he knows what she’s thinking every second of every day.

He was in love with her voice, he never wanted to stop hearing it.

He was in love with her face, he never wanted to stop seeing it.

He was in love with her body, he never wanted to stop touching it.

He was in love with her mind, he never wanted to stop exploring it.

All those thoughts rushing to his brain and rushing a new form of butterflies for him. Like anxiety, but happier. Like he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with her. It was anticipation rather than fear.

She really was it for him, and as he unboxed his life into the house they were about to share for the upcoming future, it all became very real. This was how the rest of his forever was going to look with her. All their memories from here on out were going to take place in this house, in these rooms.

When he picked this house, it was just a fun idea, and now he looks at the hardwood floors and thinks about how wet baby feet are going to sound during bath time. He wonders how many times the creaky steps are going to let him know she’s coming up to bed, he wonders what screaming matches and fights and love-making will happen beyond the bedroom door across from his study.

He wonders if she’s going to love him as long as he wants to love her.

He opens his study door then, “Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” She calls up from the bottom of the stairs.

“Can you come up here?”

She marches up the stairs, still not used to the creaky staircase or the length of stairs she had to climb, soon enough, she’s on the second floor and walking into his study, “what’s up?”

He doesn’t know how to ask, he doesn’t even really know what he wants actually. He just missed her, and she was only just downstairs.

“Can I have a hug?”

It comes out more pathetic than he predicted, cringing at the embarrassment as he shrunk into the couch.

“Quartz,” her voice is soft as she approaches him.

Sitting on the brown leather couch that was once in his apartment, she wraps her arms around him and he holds her back softly.

Resting his head on her shoulder, he just wants to hold her for a while. Eventually, they end up laying down with her on his chest, still holding each other as silent as they were in the beginning.

“I love you,” Spencer whispers against her hair.

She snuggles in more, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder softly, “I love you, too, are you okay?”

He nods softly, “I was just thinking about everything and I wanted to hold you.”

She swoons, “do you remember the first night we cuddled like this?”

He nods again, brushing his chin against her head each time, “it all feels like history repeating like it’s supposed to be this way for us.”

“I like to think so,” she agreed. “I actually think you’re my twin flame.”

He hums, thinking about it, “I’m not sure I know what that means.”

“So soulmates are kind of like mirror souls, they are exactly everything that the other needs and they fill the missing parts for each other." She explains softly and he can already tell where her rant is going.

"I don’t think that’s us because we are too similar; sometimes we butt heads and don’t see eye-to-eye, and you drive me crazy a lot of the time because we have the same anxiety and daddy issues, but it’s also because you do things I think about doing and then I can’t do them because they're done already and they’re my calm down things so then I have nothing to calm down with, like yesterday-“

“Babe,” he whispers, “I know, we finish each other’s sandwiches, that’s what your niece said when she saw us together.”

It makes her smile and he can feel her cheekbone against his chest, “twin flames are what happens when one soul is ripped in half and sent to two bodies. They’re capable of surviving separately, as long as they have the right kindling, but they burn brighter together.”

“People sometimes think fire is living because it consumes and uses energy, requires oxygen, and moves through the environment,” Spencer says softly, “have you ever seen something catch fire on both ends?”

“Yeah, a few times, why?”

“It’s never about burning the item entirely, both fires are only concerned with connecting to each other for mass destruction. They always burn in the strangest patterns, but they always connect first before devouring the victim.”

She sits up to look at him, “are you saying I devoured you?”

“That would be de-flowered,” he teases, “but no, I’m saying it makes sense. We really have been burning through everything to find each other.”

“I cannot believe you just said I de-flowered you before the most beautiful thing you’ve ever said,” she laughs, “and it was a mutual de-flowering, might I remind you.”

“I will never forget,” he coos, leaning forward and pressing his lips against hers.

She pushes him back against the couch, it’s been forever since they’ve really done anything. With moving, Spencer’s recovery, her working nights and sleeping all day. It hasn’t been rewarding in a long time, it’s just been enjoyable.

“No,” he whispers as she starts to trail kisses down his neck. “I’m not having sex on the couch the first time we do it in the house.”

She laughs against his neck, pushing herself off the couch and extending a hand to him, “did the doctor even say you can yet?”

“I can’t do all the work, but I can give a second opinion?” He couldn’t stop the grin on his face as she hauled him to his feet.

“Let me heal you,” she whispers, and he knows exactly what she means.

She lays him down on their bed, on top of the covers with no clothes on as she gathers her things. She closes the blinds, turns on her amber lamp, and lights her candles. But his favourite thing that she adds is the sound therapy… helping the water in his body vibrate at the right frequency to calm him completely. She’s going all out for this one.

Much like the first time.

She’s naked too, both of them completely unfazed by each other’s naked form by now. She sits between his legs with all her chakra stones in her hands and she sets them down on his stomach before arranging them in order where they’re supposed to help on his body.

The Amethyst is just above his head for his crown chakra, touching his scalp gently. He closes his eyes as she places a Lapis Lazuli on his third eye, in the centre of his forehead. An Aquamarine on his throat. Rose Quartz on his heart, Tiger’s Eye on his solar plexus, Pyrite on his belly button and finally, Fire Agate at his core.

He always felt so totally relaxed like this, even the first time she ever laid him down like this. He was so calm, he knew he was in good hands and seeing her bless the room made him feel even better.

“Only good may enter here,” the words she repeats every full moon when she opens the windows and blessed the whole house. Keeping them safe, happy, healthy and loved.

She kissed the scar on his knee, causing him to open his one eye to see her. She was laying between his legs now, head resting on his hip as she lightly ran her fingers over his knee, ticking the skin where he finally had feeling again. It took forever for the numbness to go away, even longer for the pain. But she was so patient with him the whole time, taking the best care of him.

She doesn’t mind that he’s hard, she’s very close to his dick as it rests on his stomach beside the crystal.

She kisses his hip, inching each kiss over until she’s pressing one right to the shaft of his dick and he takes a deep breath. Knowing she’ll stop if he forgets how to do the breathing exercises she showed him. He wasn’t allowed to tense his body, this was about pleasure and there was no rush.

For either of them.

He’s done this for her a few times over the years too, just as slow and sensual as she was being. It was calming, rewarding, they bonded with each other and really felt like one being this way.

He heard a cap open, but he was so used to it by now that it filled him with contentment rather than excitement. He remembers the first time she said she wanted to do this, getting some skin-safe, homemade, vegan massage lube and almost turning inside out with how awkward she was asking to do this for their first time.

She sat on her knees between his legs with a small bounce as she got excited about her favourite part. She sat with the bottle resting between her thighs, warming up while she ran some of it over her hands. She massaged his thighs first, getting all the knots and making sure there was no “Charlie's on any horses”, the first time she said that he almost cried laughing and ruined the mood for a little.

She took the rocks off him then, sitting more on his hips as she drizzled the warm oil on his chest. He let his hands rest on her knees, wanting to feel her skin while she felt his. Her hands felt like magic, running over his chest, arms and shoulders like this was her job. She knew every crook, every cranny, every pressure point and soft tissue on him. His body was just as much her’s now.

It's when she presses her body flat against his that he knows the mood is changing. Her breasts are flat against his chest, her hands are behind his head as she looks down at him, her groin pressed right against him as he aches for contact, grinding up into her slowly as she stares into his eyes.

“Better?” She whispered with a small smile, already feeling how much calmer he was, she just wanted confirmation.

“Much,” he’s just as quiet in his reply. “If I don’t bend that knee, it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t mind doing all the work, baby,” she kisses him quickly, “I know you like it more like this anyway.”

She slithers down his body then, his body slick with oil as she easily glides down and creating the most wonderful amount of friction with him. He groans, tossing his head back against the Amethyst on his scalp.

She sits on his good thigh, avoiding pressure with his bad knee like he was an old man now. She makes contact with the only part she didn’t message, adding more of the massage lube to her hand before lazily jerking him off. He keeps a hand on her thigh, groping and managing her right back as she kept a perfect rhythm.

She occasionally grinds against his thigh, mostly when he moans and groans. Extremely turned on by him having a good time, proud of herself for relaxing him, always complaining that he was too tense, she really knew how to release the pressure.

Just as she gets into it, the calming sounds of rain and high-pitched frequencies come to an end… Rhiannon starts playing and he literally watches her come alive; changing her rhythm to match the beat as she starts to grind against him more, she only added his song to the queue, somehow an hour had passed and her music was resuming.

And when Spencer said she was eclectic, he meant she could go from listening to a rare Canadian band called the Tragically Hip, to Kanye West, Taylor Swift, Evanescence and back to Fleetwood Mac. He had no idea where the mood was about to go.

He moved his hand up her thigh as he tried to power through the pleasure, her hand was so amazing he was bubbling away under his skin. He manages to get his middle finger between his leg and her, massaging her clit as she bucked her hips down on him.

Mutual pleasure in any sense was enough for them, seeing the other being perfectly content after everything they went through; it was euphoric. She leans up then and kisses him desperately, unable to stop stroking him as she sucked his tongue into her mouth.

She smiles against his mouth as the song changes again, it’s the song from the ending of Dirty Dancing, he knows how much she loves that movie. Her kisses get softer, she’s so gentle as she strokes him just a few more times before throwing a leg over his hips and lowering herself onto him in one go. Bottoming out faster than before, both of them making the same moan as they curled forward for each other, mouths clashing as they held onto each other.

Grinding together, Spencer kept a hand on her to help her ride as she was preoccupied with her hands in his hair and kissing his neck as they moved in tandem. It was so good, he was incredibly close but he wanted to hold off as long as possible to feel her finish first.

His ultimate pleasure was knowing she was pleasured, he massaged her clit once more between their bodies and she shuttered, “right there,” her words are small as she kisses under his ear, tugging his hair softly as he moans so she can lick at his neck as she moves her hips up and down, gloriously.

He can’t keep his eyes open, everything is too much and he’s so relaxed; it’s like his body is floating on a cloud as she rides him like they’re actually in heaven. He was really having the time of his life and it made him smile at the end of the whimper he released as she tightened around him suddenly and on purpose.

She moves faster, and so does his wrist as he helps her over the edge first. She’s panting in his ear as she rides him with purpose. She cums with a gasp and then he’s gone, her whole body stuttering as she let out the most relaxed and uncontrollable moan he’s ever heard from her.

His grip on her ass tightens as he holds her hips down, he cums with a gasp and it’s so powerful he passes out.

—

He’s so cute when he sleeps.

She’s got him all cleaned up, everything put away and where it’s supposed to be in their new room. She just lays beside him as she watches him nap, blissed out and relaxed, she doesn’t even care that it’s such a typical guy thing to fall asleep right after.

That was kind of her mission.

He’s been so stressed, he wasn’t going to tell her because he didn’t want his stress to become her stress like it so often did. Feeding off each other like a fire, he really knew how to give a phrase to a feeling. But he was stressed because he was in pain from his knee and no matter how much he lied and said he was fine, she knew he wanted to relieve the pain but he was afraid of even taking a Tylenol.

This is the most relaxed he’s been in months.

She ordered a pizza while he was asleep, it arrived before he woke up too. She sets the pizza box, 2 bottles of pop and a roll of napkins at the end of the bed, gently, before getting back into her spot.

She brushed his hair from his face and kissed the tip of his nose gently, seeing him scrunch his face and swallow before blinking awake. She smiled at him, “Hi, sleepyhead.”

“Hello, beautiful.”

“I ordered pizza,” she whispers.

“Olive,” he replies.

“Well yeah,” it makes her giggle but she has to say it, “I got our regular green olives, mushrooms and extra cheese.”

He laughs too, extra happy after both the sex and his nap. “I love you,” he says the full thing this time.

She presses another kiss to his lips before hauling him into a sitting position, “I love you, too.”

It’s the best night of her life so far.

the house

Taglist: @dreatine for inspiring a part 2 <3

@shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk

[howtosingit]

Fic: And Every Birthday After

TK makes a decision about his relationship with Carlos.

*

AU after 1x05.

3K | Also on AO3

A/N: This is up a day later than I wanted it to be, but considering it’s the first thing I’ve written in two months, I’m still going to take it as a win. Happy reading!

- - - - -

TK climbs out from the car, his eyes on his phone as he shouts a quick “thank you” over his shoulder to his Uber driver before closing the door behind him. The car pulls away from the curb as he glances up at the glowing Austin Police Department sign before him, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth while he thinks about what he wants to do next.

With another look down at his phone to check the time, he nods, turning his back on the precinct to cross the street. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for: Carlos’s blue Camaro draws attention no matter where the police officer parks it. 

TK gently runs his fingers along the shiny, unblemished surface, his attention divided between the car in front of him and the building across the street. Carlos should be appearing any moment, fresh off his shift, and TK smiles as he leans back against the door, crossing his arms in front of his chest, trying to adopt a casual pose. He can practically hear Carlos’s laugh now, his brain supplying him with the memory of the last time he failed to casually lean against the Camaro, while they waited for Paul outside the 126. 

(TK thinks that just because Carlos has perfected the art of a casual lean, he shouldn’t get to laugh at those who are still learning.)

“TK?”

He’s so lost in his memories of that night - dancing close to Carlos in the club and sneaking kisses whenever the lights left them in the shadows - that he misses when the man himself appears right in front of him. TK jumps when he hears his name to find Carlos already halfway across the street, heading right for him.

“Hey there, officer,” he calls.

“What are you doing here?” Carlos asks, and TK’s eyes shift down just in time to see Carlos hide a giant green gift bag behind his back. “I thought we were meeting a little later.”

“We were, but I got out of work earlier than I planned and thought I’d surprise you.” 

TK waits for Carlos to come a little closer, maybe even give him a kiss the way he usually does, or at the very least a smile, but the officer does none of those things. Instead, Carlos stops a few feet away from him, his beautiful brown eyes wide as he presses his lips together in a tight line. TK notices the gift bag peeking out behind his back, fidgeting in his fingers. “Did someone get you a gift?” TK asks, breaking the weirdly awkward silence with his mounting curiosity.

Carlos freezes for a nearly imperceptible moment, looking like he’s been zapped by his own stun gun, before he lets out a sudden high-pitched laugh, his face morphing into a mask of forced normalcy. “Oh, this?” he asks, pulling the bag out from behind his back. TK watches as his eyebrows furrow - truly an adorable sight - as Carlos glances between the bag and TK. “This is from my boss, for Employee Appreciation Week.”

A smile suddenly appears on Carlos’s face as he steps closer, swinging the bag at his side before wrapping an arm around TK’s waist and pulling him in. TK goes willingly, his brain still trying to catch up to Carlos’s abrupt mood shift, and lets Carlos press their lips together in a chaste kiss. 

“Thank you for surprising me,” Carlos murmurs against his mouth. “Seeing you was exactly what I needed after today.”

“Long shift?”

Carlos hums in reply, stealing another quick kiss before backing away to pull his keys from his pocket. “Something like that.”

“You want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” Carlos admits. TK notices the way his eyes are twinkling under the streetlights. “Right now I’m starving. Did you finally decide on a place to eat?”

“What do you think of that Greek place on Lavaca?”

“I think,” Carlos starts once they’re both in the car, tossing the gift bag in the back seat before leaning over the console to invade TK’s personal space, “that if that’s what you want, then that’s exactly what I want.”

TK lets out a breath at Carlos’s claim, a feeling of contentment running through his body from head to toe. He feels Carlos’s hand on his cheek, his breath on his face. It’s overwhelming in the best possible way.

“You’re kind of sickeningly sweet, you know that?” TK teases, pressing forward to steal another kiss. 

“That doesn’t sound like a complaint,” Carlos fires back, his eyes crinkling as a cocky smile takes over his face.

“You’re far too confident.”

“Now I know that’s not a complaint,” Carlos smirks, his eyebrows practically dancing. 

“Shut up,” TK whispers, claiming Carlos’s lips again to ensure that he does just that.

- - - - - 

“No, I’m telling you, Paul actually said that, no hesitation whatsoever. It was pretty badass.”

“Sounds like it. Though, I’m guessing Marjan didn’t really appreciate it, did she?” Carlos asks, pulling the front door closed behind him as TK flips on the light before toeing off his shoes.

“Oh, she definitely did not. I kind of thought flames were going to shoot out of her eyes, she looked so pissed.” He flops down on the couch, pulling his feet up to get comfortable. 

“I know I’ve only met her on calls, but I can still picture that face so perfectly,” Carlos laughs, cutting through the room to the kitchen, where he drops his gift bag on the counter before opening the refrigerator. “I have cake for dessert, if you want any?” he asks, glancing back over at TK.

“Oh my god, yes,” TK moans, pulling himself off the couch and towards the alluring appeal of something disgustingly sweet. He drops his phone on the table before taking a seat on one of the barstools, watching as Carlos pulls out a small chocolate bundt cake before reaching into the freezer for a pint of vanilla bean ice cream. He flits about the kitchen with a casual ease that TK is more than happy to observe, his eyes drawn to his striking figure. There isn’t a single part of Carlos that TK doesn’t like, and he knows he could sit and watch the other man every minute of every day and never get bored. 

He gives himself a little shake, trying to clear his head, and his eyes land once again on the gift bag sitting on the counter next to him.

“So,” he starts, his tone laced with curiosity, “what exactly does APD give their best patrol officers for Employee Appreciation Week anyway?” He smirks, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure it’s got nothing on AFD, we all know firefighters have you badges beat.”

It’s not something he really believes in - the whole firefighters versus police officers rivalry - but that doesn’t mean that he and Carlos don’t like to joke about how they’re “sleeping with the enemy” every now and then. It’s even made for some very satisfying, competitive moments in bed, though they’re always followed by laughs and kisses and comments about how ridiculous it all is.

TK turns back to Carlos to find him completely frozen for the second time tonight, the ice cream scoop clutched firmly in his hand with ice cream melting down the sides as he looks from the bag to TK. 

This time, TK doesn’t let it go unnoticed.

“What is it with you and this gift?” he asks, reaching out to flick the bag with his finger. “You’ve been acting weird about it all night.”

Carlos swallows, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he drops the scoop back in the carton. 

“I lied to you.”

TK stares at him across the counter, taking in the tense set of his shoulders. It’s been awhile since Carlos was this uncomfortable in front of him, and he really doesn’t like it.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, having no idea where this is going. 

“This,” Carlos says, pointing to the gift bag as he circles around the island to stand next to TK, “is not a gift for Employee Appreciation Week.” 

“Okay, what is it then?”

Carlos stares at him for a moment, his eyes wide, before nodding and taking a deep breath, looking like he’s about to jump off a cliff.

“It’s a birthday present.”

“I don’t understand what…” TK trails off, his confusion disappearing as his brain works to put all of the pieces together: the gift bag in front of him, the chocolate cake and ice cream sweating a few feet away. His mouth goes dry, his heart hammering in his chest. His gaze darts back to Carlos, standing in front of him looking a little terrified but also a little eager, like he’s waiting to see what happens next. “It’s your birthday?” TK asks, his voice tight and barely more than a whisper.

Carlos nods.

“Oh my god, Carlos, it’s your birthday!” TK exclaims.

“It is, it is, but it’s fine, it’s nothing, it’s not a big deal,” Carlos rushes to assure him, reaching out to take his hands in his own.

“Not a big deal? It’s your birthday!” TK cries, trying to figure out what to do with this new information. His brain unhelpfully supplies a detail he had forgotten. “Wait, you’re the one who said we should get dinner together tonight,” TK reminds him.

“Yeah, we both had the night off and I wanted to see you,” Carlos mumbles, staring down at their fingers, intertwined between them. TK feels his breath stutter in his chest.

“You wanted to spend your birthday with me?” TK hedges, the words uneven as his heart threatens to choke him from where it’s become lodged in his throat.

Carlos wordlessly shrugs, a complete inversion of his confident attitude from just a few hours ago. TK takes a moment to appreciate how layered he is, how he sometimes feels like a million people in one, but how he’s still always Carlos, no matter what. “I like spending as much time as possible with you,” Carlos states, still not making eye contact. 

TK lets the words roll through him, feeling the way they light up every single nerve ending in his body. He’s surprised to find that they don’t scare him like he thought they would. Ever since the failed dinner date, they’ve both been careful to keep things from getting too serious. They’ve been having fun, hanging out and exploring Austin before coming back to Carlos’s place to roll around in bed together. They’re friends - TK is sure that Carlos is his best friend - and they’re a little bit more than that. 

Maybe TK’s finally ready to face the reality of what that could mean.

He thinks about finding out about his dad’s cancer diagnosis a few weeks ago, and how Carlos was the first person he ran to with the news. He remembers how Carlos talked him down from his uncontained anger and hurt, how he held him tight when he cried. 

Carlos was there for him when he needed him. TK’s only known him for a few months, but Carlos has always been there, strong and steady and grounding. A beacon of safety and comfort.

And TK knows that he wants to be there for Carlos in the exact same way. He honestly can’t imagine being anywhere else, now that he really thinks about it.

“Come here,” he says, tugging gently on Carlos’s hands to pull him closer, opening his legs for Carlos to stand between them. Carlos lets out a sigh, moving to place his hands on TK’s waist when TK wraps his arms around his shoulders. They rest their foreheads together, taking a moment to stare at each other, truly open and honest for maybe the first time. 

“Happy Birthday, Carlos,” TK whispers, waiting for Carlos’s smile to break through his frown before leaning in to steal it from his lips.

His breath catches again as their tongues tangle, their bodies sinking into each other as they give into their embrace. Every kiss with Carlos is worth writing a poem about, if TK was the type of person to write poetry, but this one would definitely inspire TK’s best work. He has a feeling that it’s because of him; he knows that Carlos gives his everything every time, but it’s TK who is now meeting him there with his whole heart. It’s like the wall that he’s put up has fallen away, crumbled to dust in the blink of an eye. Honestly, TK can’t even be bothered; no wall stood a chance against Carlos Reyes anyway. 

Carlos pulls away much sooner than TK thought he would, and as his eyes blink slowly open, he finds the other man staring at him, his brows furrowed once more.

“Are you mad that I didn’t tell you?” Carlos asks, his voice tight.

“No,” TK assures him immediately, reaching up to cup Carlos’s face in his hands. He feels the way Carlos sinks into his hold, letting him take some of his weight, like he trusts TK to keep him upright. “I’m not mad, Carlos. Though, I do wish I would’ve known.”

“I know,” Carlos sighs, reaching up to grip his wrists, dragging his thumbs along TK’s skin. “I know, I should’ve told you. It just… I didn’t want to make it a whole thing, spending my birthday together. I didn’t want to freak you out, I know you’re not looking for that kind of thing, I know this is just us having fun and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything…” Carlos trails off, his grip tight as if he’s scared TK will jump up and run out of the house again. 

TK feels Carlos’s fear as if it’s hammering against his heart, but he definitely can’t blame the other man for his thoughts. Their past mistakes are all the evidence he needs to understand why Carlos hid this from him. He nods, biting his bottom lip, trying to figure out how to make it clear that he feels differently now, that he actually wants this to be a whole thing. That they’re on this path together now.

The idea comes to him so suddenly that he almost barks out a relieved laugh. Instead, he smacks a quick kiss against Carlos’s lips before jumping up from the stool, watching as Carlos’s eyes widen in panic.

“Wait, what-”

“I think I know how to make sure this never happens again,” TK interrupts, continuing to hold Carlos’s face in his hands as he backs him up a few steps towards the dining table. He pushes Carlos against it, taking pleasure in the way the other man automatically widens his stance, allowing TK to step between his legs and press their hips together. Without a word, he reaches down to grab his phone, smirking as he brings it up between their faces. 

“There,” TK says a moment later, turning his phone to show Carlos, who has stayed silent and slightly terrified this entire time, if his face is anything to go by. He looks over at the screen. “Now I’ll never miss your birthday again.” TK can tell the moment that he processes what he’s seeing, watching as Carlos’s face softens and his arms come up to wrap around his waist. 

“You want to remember my birthday next year?” Carlos clarifies, and TK is surprised to see tears in his glassy brown eyes. He tosses his phone back down on the table, reaching up to run his fingers along the stunning features of Carlos’s face.

“Babe,” he says, testing out the word for the first time and thoroughly enjoying the way it causes Carlos to vibrate against him, “I want to remember everything about you.”

There’s barely any warning before Carlos is on top of him, their lips attached once again as Carlos lays claim to him like a man unleashed. TK gives it all back to him, the two of them speaking paragraphs in touches and tastes and sighs and moans. There’s no holding back, not anymore.

When they are finally forced to pull back for air, TK takes pride in Carlos’s disheveled appearance, his curls wild and his face flushed and his lips bruised. He knows he probably looks the same, and he loves seeing the proof of their want and desire and need for each other with his own two eyes. He drags his fingers along Carlos’s plump lips, realizing for the first time that they are his to kiss, for as long as Carlos will let him. 

“This is the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” Carlos sighs, and TK meets his eyes to find them blown black but fixed on him, his gaze never wavering. 

“While I am obviously very glad to hear that,” TK begins, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to his favorite lips again, “you should see what kind of birthday gifts I give when I’ve had time to plan them. I can promise you, you’re not ready for next year.”

“I’m ready for anything, as long as I’ve got you,” Carlos says without hesitation.

TK groans, falling forward to press his face into Carlos’s neck, feeling the vibration of his soft chuckle against his cheek. “You’re so sickeningly sweet, I can’t stand it.” Carlos merely hums, dragging his hands up and down TK’s back to soothe him. 

They stay like that for a few moments, just enjoying the way they get to hold one another, before TK pulls back to give Carlos a look.

“Speaking of sickeningly sweet,” he teases, his fingers dancing along Carlos’s thighs on either side of him, “what do you say we take that cake and ice cream upstairs and unwrap some other presents, birthday boy?” He finishes the suggestion with a raise of his eyebrows, watching as the blush on Carlos’s face deepens before he lets out a loud, bright laugh, the two of them falling into each other as they struggle to remain upright against the table.

And TK decides that this, right here, being deliriously happy in Carlos’s arms, is everything that he could ever want or wish for.

On this day, and every birthday they’ll spend together after.

[maybe-itll-be-someday]

Teenage Dreams

The one where someone disrespects Emily and Jack remedies it by punching them in the face.

Read on AO3

Emily was a great Mom.

Despite the fact that they weren't related by blood, she was the only mom he truly ever know. He never really knew his actual Mom since she had died so long ago now. He had snippets of memories, barely threads now since it's been over a decade since she passed, and the stories that his Dad would tell him. About how they first met in the Pirates of Penzance play in high school, how she supported him through law school and the Academy, and how she loved strawberry ice cream and will always love him.

But Emily had always been around, on the sidelines of his soccer games and baseball tournaments, wiping his tears and kissing his bandages when he scraped his knee or slammed his finger in the car door. They had gotten married almost five years ago now and it was only in the last three that Jack had insisted on calling her Mom.

"You're the only Mom I have." He had said when she was stunned into silence as he tested the moniker on his lips on a Wednesday afternoon. He doesn't think he'd ever seen Emily cry so hard before.

The only thing Jack Hotchner didn't really like about his mom, is all the snide comments and half whispers among his friends whenever they came over. He was aware that Emily was beautiful, if the way his Dad always told her was any indication.

It was after school and Mom had come to pick him up after his first soccer practice, his friends quickly starting to elbow each other as his Mom made his way towards them, still dressed from work with her FBI badge hanging off the side of her blazer.

"Hi sweetie." Emily greets. She smiled brilliantly at all his friends, some of whom quickly averted their eyes at the sight of her.

"Hey Mom. These are my teammates." He says, introducing her to the gangly group of teenagers who were either outright staring or doing everything in their power to not make any eye contact.

"I just need to go grab my stuff from the locker room. I'll meet you at the car?" Emily nods, knowing that now that Jack was getting older he was starting to enter the phase where everything his parents did embarrassed him, even if it was just something as simple as picking him up from practice. If Emily were a betting woman, she would wager a large amount of money that Jack wanted her to park down the street so his friends never saw her.

If only she knew exactly why Jack was keeping his friends far away from her.

His friends immediately start whispering to themselves as Emily makes her way back towards the parking lot to wait for Jack.

"That's his mom?"

"Holy shit."

"That is a MILF if I've ever seen one." Jack is quick to shoot an angry glare at his teammate, who at the stern look in Jack's eye, had the decency to look embarrassed before they made their way into the locker room.

Jack could still hear the rumblings among his friends, catching the words sexy and red from the direction of the showers. He tries to block it out, but he can feel the tips of his ears go read as his teammates swapped remarks about their list of hottest Moms and somehow, his own makes it on the list.

He's still bright red when he hops into the car, Mom with a concerned look on her face.

"Are you alright, Jack? You're not catching a fever, are you?" She frowns, checking his temperature with the back of his hand as he swats her away.

"Mom, I'm fine. It's nothing." Emily tuts, Jack's tone toeing the boundary between upset and disrespectful.

"Jack, you know that as a profiler I can tell when you're lying to me, right?" She says, her eyebrow raised and Jack grumbles to himself. Emily smiles at the muttered words, but for her benefit, she asks him to speak up.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said yes ma'am, I am well-aware."

"And you also know that I won't force you to talk about anything unless you want to talk about it?"

A small smile breaks on Jack's lips. Mom never did push him to talk about anything, always just letting him know that she was available when he eventually did want to. Her only condition was that he would talk to her eventually, no matter how long that took. It was one of Jack's favorite things about her, since she could really calm his Dad down when he had that vein bulging from his neck whenever information was withheld from him.

"I'm aware of that too."

"As long as you know." She says, before turning up the radio and singing in an off-tune pitch to the latest pop song on the radio, clearly unaware of the actual lyrics or which key the song is supposed to be in.

Okay, maybe there were two things he didn't like about her.

--

The next time someone makes a comment about his Mom, they make it to Jack's face.

Dennis Smith was one of those kids you'd consider an outcast in school. Always dressed in torn jeans and black, followed by thin cronies who were too afraid to stand-up to the kids who picked on them so they ended up hiding behind a larger bully. He had been taunting Elliot, Jack's lab partner, for the past three weeks. Elliot had run into class that day, his shirt torn and bag half-opened as he rushed to sit next to Jack.

"Dude, what happened?" Jack asked when he spotted the torn pocket and the hastily stuffed belongings in his backpack. Some of his books were wet and if Jack had to guess, they had roughed him up in the boy's bathroom.

"Dennis." Elliot just mumbles, pulling out his notebook and cursing when he realizes that they took his wallet.

No one was going to pick on his friends if he could do something about it.

At least, that's what his Dad taught him.

So when Chemistry ends, he stalks Dennis and finds him bent over a water fountain, his friends chatting away while leaning on the locker next to him. Jack reaches over and taps him on the shoulder, a bewildered expression on Dennis' face.

"What do you want, Hotchner?" He spit out, puffing his chest to make him seem bigger than he actually was. Dennis didn't like him, since he was one of the only ones who wasn't scared of the bully. Jack found it hard to be scared of him, considering the fact that both of his parents were in the FBI and dealt with much scarier things than insecure teenage boys with an anger issue.

Jack crosses his arms, Elliot hiding behind him as he stares Dennis down.

"What's your problem with Elliot?" He asks flatly, interested in getting to the bottom of this. The hallway slowly starts to flood with students exiting their classes and the commotion causes a small crowd to form. In the corner of his eye, Jack can see cellphones being pulled out and aimed right at them.

"My problem is that little pipsqueak told Ms. Gardner that I was cheating." The bully stares directly at Elliot, who cowers further behind Jack despite the fact that Jack was only a few inches taller than him.

"But you were cheating."

"Well, if he learned to mind his own business, then maybe we wouldn't pick on him so much." Jack sizes Dennis up - he notices the muddy state of his shoes and pants that dangle just above his ankles, clearly too short for him. He smells faintly of body odor and some form of energy drink and if Jack had to guess, no one was providing him parental supervision at home.

He was angry, and had no one to direct that anger towards except for a student who was just doing his due diligence.

"Look, Dennis. I get it - your parents don't spend enough time with you, they leave you alone a lot, and you're angry about it. Can't you find something better to do with your time? Like actually studying so you don't need to cheat?"

Dennis flushes bright red and Jack turns and motions for Elliot to follow him. Hopefully, that would be enough to stop them from bullying Elliot. It's only then that he hears what Dennis mutters under his breath.

"Not all of us have a hot ass stepmom to tend to our every need. If I had a stepmom like that-"

Jack's fist connects with his nose, his knuckles flashing in pain at the contact. He feels a white hot rage spark under his skin, directed at anyone who would think to badmouth his family. The crowd gasps as Dennis falls to the floor, clutching his nose and yelping in pain. Jack flexes his knuckles and winces at the dull ache that settled in his joints. He freezes when he hears a familiar voice call out his name.

"Jack Hotchner!" Jack's eyes close and hopes that it isn't who he thinks it is.

He plasters a smile on his face and turns around, hiding his swollen hand behind his back.

"Hi Principal Gibbons."

--

"You are grounded for at least three months." Aaron says, his knuckles white around the steering wheel. It was just his luck that his Dad would be the one to pick him up. Apparently, Mom was off on a case with the BAU and Jack had a feeling she would be more understanding of him breaking Dennis' nose after fifth period.

After all, she was the one who signed him up for self-defense classes.

"What were you thinking Jack? Breaking a kid's nose?" His Dad had been furious upon arriving at the Principal's office. To the normal outsider, he looked calm, but Jack knew the fury that lay underneath. Dad had an excellent poker face and he managed to keep his anger under wraps until they got back into the car.

"He was being a dick."

"Language." His Dad warns and Jack sighs, knowing that swearing probably wasn't going to save him from the thin ice he was already on.

"Look, he was bullying my friend Elliot and I stood up to him."

"So, instead of talking it out, you punched him." Aaron says in disbelief and Jack shakes his head in frustration.

"No, I told him that his parents weren't around and that he was angry, so instead of picking on Elliot, he should just study."

There's a beat of silence.

"You profiled him?" Aaron curses the pride that blooms at the realization, not wanting Jack to get off that easy. After all, he did get suspended for three days and had to visit the school counselor with Dennis upon his return for 'mediation'.

"I did. Then I walked away."

"Then why did you punch him?"

"Because he said something about Emily." Jack's arms cross, his gaze out the window and Aaron sighs. He had been ecstatic when Emily came to him with tears in her eyes because Jack wanted to start calling her Mom. It was a decision that Aaron always left entirely up to Jack, not wanting to force him into feeling like they were replacing Haley since they were getting married. She had always been perfectly fine at being called Emily, not wanting to infringe on Jack's view of Haley. Jack only reverted back to calling her 'Emily' when he wanted to distinguish Emily and Haley.

Aaron lets the silence sit for a minute, his anger deflating. "What did he say?" He eventually asks.

"That not everyone had a hot ass stepmom to tend to their every need."

A different flash of anger runs through Aaron, his grip around the steering wheel tightening a little bit and his knuckles flashing white.

"That's why I punched him. I don't want anyone to talk about Mom like that."

Aaron lets out a breath, the last of his anger dissipating with Jack's words. He had always taught Jack to stand-up for those who couldn't stand up for themselves and he did just that. He stood up for Elliot and he stood up for Emily as well, not tolerating any disrespect for the people he cared about.

"Hot ass stepmom?" Aaron asks, a curious eyebrow raised.

"Oh Dad, you have no idea."

--

Emily comes back home to the angry marks on Jack's hand settling into purple and yellow bruises.

"You did what?"

"He punched a kid at school. He'll be suspended until tomorrow." Emily crossed her arms, disappointment in her expression. "Did this kid attempt to hit you first?"

Jack shook his head, hung low from the stare his Mom was baring into him. Aaron chuckles, rescuing Jack from what he is sure is a tongue lashing with a gentle hand placed on her shoulder.

"He was actually defending a friend." Mom's stance softens ever so slightly and eventually, she uncrosses her arms and sighs.

"As long as it was for the right reasons. But I still don't condone the violence and you're grounded until next week." Jack nods, knowing that it was a lenient punishment considering he spent the last month grounded because he had snuck out to see a girl.

Later, when Jack is in bed, Aaron tells Emily the true reason why he had gotten in trouble. Her heart swells with pride and an absolute adoration for the boy she's watched grow up and felt honored that he would defend her from his peers.

"Hot ass stepmom, huh?" She teases as Aaron bristles. She loved that even after years together, he still got jealous. Many cops and detectives have been the end of the Hotchner glare when he caught them checking her out and somehow, it doesn't surprise her that a few harmless teenage crushes would cause his heckles to rise.

"Oh sweetheart." She coos, snaking her arms around his neck as his hands land on her hips. She doesn't miss the way his grip is just a little tighter and giggles as he grunts in acknowledgement.

"You don't need to worry about a bunch of teenage boys stealing me away."

"Who says I'm worried?"

Emily just laughs, smoothing the frown on his forehead.

"Whatever you say, sweetie."

--

Later that week, when Jack's friends come over before they head to the high school football game, Emily comes home from her run. Her hair is thrown up in a messy bun, her sweat slick on her skin and her running shorts hugging her behind tightly. Aaron walks into the living room to greet her to see two pairs of eyes glued to Emily's form as she walks into the kitchen to get some water.

He throws them a death glare and doesn't fight the smirk on his face when Emily presses a kiss to his lips in greeting.

--

[fanficbitch]

Spencer Reid // Night Terrors

The cold floor sends chills through my body. The fact that the floor is sticky with my blood does not make it any better.

I try to remember how to got here, but my memory is blocked. I try to push myself off the ground only to realize I am chained to a large pipe supporting the room. I lean against the pipe the best I can and try to take a self inventory. I pat my right hip and realize that my gun is missing. I tap my left back pocket and discover that my badge and credentials are missing. Great. Next, I do the part I’m most scared for. I slowly move  my hand to my head to assess how bad the damage is. There is at least a two inch long cut along my forehead, but it doesn’t seem too deep which is good.

Next, I look around me to see where I am. From the dripping water and amount of pipes, I assume I am in a basement or cellar. I try to think as hard as I can and truly cannot remember how I got here.

I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and instinctively clutch the pole tighter. He stands at least 10 feet in front of me, but I can somewhat make out his features. He has shoulder length dirty blonde hair with a matching beard. He is very tall and bulky. I couldn’t take him on even if I was in my best shape. He tilts his head and smiles at me. “Good, you’re awake,” he says then steps closer to me. “I brought you some food,” he says then places a paper plate with a sandwich in front of me.

“I’m not hungry,” I murmur.

He shrugs. “Fine, suit yourself,” he says then turns around to go back up the steps.

“Wait!” I yell and he stops. “What am I doing here?”

“Oh, you don’t remember?” he laughs. “From what I put together, you went on a solo mission to come get me. I got that from your FBI vest-,”

I look down at my chest and realize my vest is missing. Shit.

“I anticipated that you did not realize how strong I would be so I overtook you fairly quickly,” he says. “Anyway, now you’re my bargaining chip to get some things before I ditch town.”

“They won’t cooperate with you,” I spit at him.

“The FBI? Oh, they already have. My supplies are on their way.”

“You think that you can get some supplies and just disappear?” I ask. “That we won’t find you again?”

“I’m smarter than you think,” he says, his tone shifting. 

“Really? I found you all by myself and I’m just a little girl.”

This clearly upset him because he starts to contort his face. I decide to egg him on even more. 

“And my team will find a way to overtake you. They always do.”

“Not this time sweetheart,” he barks.

“I’m sure they’re surrounding the house as we speak,” I say and he scoffs. 

“I’d know better.”

“Would you? Because you seem pretty stupid to me,” I say which sets him off the edge. He pulls out a gun and points it directly at my head. I only take a quick look at it, but that’s all I need to realize it’s mine.

“Well I have your gun. Could a stupid person do that?” he asks.

“If you kill me, how will you get your things?”

“As long as they get your body they’ll be happy,” he says then prepares to shoot me.

                                                       **********

I wake up breathing so hard that I am nearly choking and I am covered in cold sweat. I clutch my sheets to gain some form of reality as I catch my breath.

Even though it has been over a week and the wounds are healing, the memories from my capture appear in my mind nearly every night. Tonight was worse than normal. It went up all the way to where he was about to pull the trigger.

Reliving these moments is taking a toll on me. I can’t sleep or work properly. What I really need to do right now is talk to someone. But it’s the middle of the night, I think no one I know is awake. Except for maybe one person.

I grab my phone off my nightstand and press his contact. It only takes two rings for him to pick up. “Y/N?” Spencer asks.

“Spence? Wow, I’m relieved you’re up,” I say.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m just-,” I try to say. “I’m having a hard time.”

“Nightmares?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say slowly. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been there.”

“What do you do to make it go away?”

“It just takes time,” he tells me.

“That is not the answer I was hoping for,” I say. There is a silence on the line which reminds me it is the middle of the night and I really shouldn’t be bothering Spencer. “Um, thanks Spence. I’ll see you at work,” I say and hang up before he can respond.

                                                      **********

I decided to make myself a cup of tea in an attempt to relax. I bounce the tea bag up and down as there is a knock at my door. Anyone with common sense wouldn’t open the door in the middle of the night. But me, I go to grab my gun, take a deep breath then open the door.

“Geez Y/N,” Spencer yelps as he throws his hands up.

“Spencer, what are you doing here?” I say as I lower my weapon.

“I figured you’d be up for a while so I thought I’d keep you company,” he says as he steps inside my apartment.

“Oh, that’s actually really sweet,” I say slowly. “I was actually about to go up to bed.”

“Okay,” Spencer says. I grab my tea and he begins to follow me down the hall.

“Spencer Reid, are you coming to my bedroom?” I ask once I stop at my door.

“If you’ll let me,” he says. I shrug and open the door which we both walk through.

Once we both settle on separate sides of the bed, Spencer turns to me. “So tell me everything.”

I tell him about my nightmare that has been occurring for the last few nights. He sits on it for a moment before speaking. “I wish I could say it’s going to be easy, but even now I still struggle with what happened to me.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

Spencer holds out his hand which I take. “Just call me whenever you get the nightmares and I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

“Spence, I can’t ask you to be on call like that.”

“You aren’t asking. I’m offering. I want to be here for you,” he says. Tears brim my eyes at his words. With that, Spencer pulls me into his chest while still holding my hand. “That’s what friends are for,” he whispers.

My heart sinks a little at his word choice. It just affirms the point that we are only friends, and that is all we will be. 

[beautyiswithinchaos]

Night Shift

*** disclaimer: all new work is here @chaos-is-beautifvl ***

pairing: spencer reid x reader (no specified gender)

summary: you leave as he comes. neither of you want to let go... but is the pain worth holding onto?

warnings: ANGST, so much angst, i’m sorry (not really), some fluff at the end to make up for it, bonding time with the lovely BAU women

word count: 5.04K (i know... it’s a lot, but enjoy!)

---

You got a 9 to 5,

So I’ll take the night shift

And I’ll never see you again if I can help it

— Night Shift by Lucy Darcus

It wasn't how it used to be, your relationship that is. You knew how life worked, how relationships worked. Sometimes things would change, and whether they were for the best or the worst was up to fate. Well, the three spinsters weren't on you or Spencer's sides.

You had felt the shift - the change in the natural flow of your dynamic. It was like a spool of thread, and you were walking on it. After a while, the sturdiness and solidity of the beam slowly fell off, piece by piece. It happened so slowly that you hadn't even registered that it was falling apart until it was.

Had the two of you had a proper conversation in months? No, and it wasn't because of your jobs - not that you both hadn't used that as an excuse. It was because both you and Spencer felt the drift. You both were holding onto that last piece of thread, holding onto some semblance of hope.

"Hey." His voice came out sharp and clear. The voice that once calmed you and brought you comfort was now a memory of the past. When he spoke, it was a constant reminder that what you once had was falling apart, dissenting into an empty pit.

You muttered a quiet "hello" as you searched the room for your work badge. Locating it, you breathed a sigh of relief. Your interactions with Spencer had continuously been this way. Well, at least that's how it had been for the past few months. Or, was it always this way, and either of you had yet to notice? Or maybe you did notice but pushed the feelings away in turn of keeping your spool of thread.

Your coat was the next thing you grabbed. It was routine. Spencer would come home from work or a case, and you would be leaving. It hadn't always been this way. At one point or another, you didn't take the night shift, opting for the day shift so that both of you could spend time together. You weren't sure why you did it, why you decided to change shifts. Your best bet was that it was easier, not seeing him, not having to talk. Talking revealed things, things that you couldn't hide with a profiler psychoanalyzing your every move.

"We should talk," Spencer said as your hand touched the doorknob. You shut your eyes, trying to keep your mind away from him. The only you wanted - no needed, to be focused on was work. It wasn't healthy what you were doing, but it helped.

"I have to get to work," you sighed, still facing the door. You could feel eyes on your back, but you couldn't allow it to phase you. Spencer took a step forward, and you could only imagine how he looked. His routine eyebags would be present, disheveled look on his face, but clothes as crisp as a teacher's assistant. He would step forward, right foot in front of left, hands in the pockets of his trousers.

He released his own sigh, and you could feel the disappointment radiating off of his body. "Okay, then. When you get home." He wasn't asking you if that was a good time, and you preferred it that way. If you had a choice, you would decline as you hated confrontation. But this was better.

You agreed before walking out the door, the night sky greeting you as a star twinkled. In your mind, it was mocking you, the way the stars twinkled. They built constellations, something that would stay forever. You had built a relationship, but you weren't sure it would last another day.

---

You received a phone call during your shift. It was "lunch" time. Well, since lunch wasn't until a few more hours, it technically wasn't. You couldn't find it in you to eat anything. You didn't feel sick or anything, just not hungry. You poked around at your food, passing it over to Paula. She was a mother of three, one grown with a baby on the way, another about to graduate, and one in middle school.

You and Paula had grown close over your time working together. She was a good woman who worked hard for her children. She eyed you as you slid the food over to her. Paula knew things hadn't been happy go lucky with Spencer lately. Hell, anyone with working eyes and common sense could tell there was something wrong.

"How are you doing, honey?" Paula's voice was soft and comforting, much like Spencer's had been one point in time. You pulled yourself away from your thoughts, a sad smile crossing your face as you shrugged, "I don't know, Paula. I feel like we're holding onto something that isn't there anymore."

"Oh, hun," she said gently, hand reaching across the table and touching yours. You closed your eyes at the contact, feeling as though at any minute you would break. "I know it hurts, and I know you're scared..." she paused, and you opened your eyes to meet her soft green ones, "But you have to talk to Spencer."

You shook your head, anxiety already piling up. I can't do that, you thought, worrying your bottom lip with your fingers. If I confront him, will this be the end?

"Of course, you don't have to," she grasped your hand in her own. Even if you and Spencer didn't survive this, she knew this would be good for you. There was so much unresolved pain settling between the two of you, and it grew every day.

You were about to speak when a buzz sounded from beside you. Grabbing your phone, you saw Spencer's name pop up. He was calling you. You flashed a look to Paula, and she sent a reassuring smile before grabbing her food and allowing you some privacy. You were grateful for that.

Answering the call, you released a shaky breath before pulling the phone to your ear, "Spencer." Your fingers tapped anxiously on the table as you awaited his response.

"Y/N," the sound of him calling your name calmed your nerves. It had been so long since either of you had even uttered the other's name. Whenever the two of you saw each other, you would mutter a hello or goodbye, and that was it.

"We don't have to-" You cut him off before he could continue. You already knew what he was going to say, well, at least you thought you did. "It's fine. I get it. You don't want to talk. Right? It's okay, Spence."

Unbeknownst to you, Spencer felt the corner of his mouth tugging upward at the nickname that left your mouth. He looked down, his fingers fiddling with the cord attached. You had always picked fun at him with how anti-technology he was. That was until his old-timey habits started rubbing off on you, and you began reading on paper rather than a screen, amongst other things.

"Y/N." His voice made you stop speaking, and you hated it. You hated the effect it had on you. After all these years, you would think it would lessen, but now that you and Spencer were at a crossroads constructed by the three spinsters, it seemed to be growing like a waxing moon.

"I want-" His sigh came through the speaker of the phone, "I want us to talk. We need to talk."

You nodded before remembered that he couldn't see you. Your voice was steady as you spoke, "Yeah, I think we do. Uh, I'll see you when I get home."

You both muttered your goodbyes before you got back to work, and he, doing whatever he had been doing before calling. Other than having a hiccup with one of the patients who insisted on being independent, the rest of your shift went smoothly.

The drive home reminded you of your relationship with Spencer. Not only was he your lover, your significant other; he was your best friend. He knew some of your deepest thoughts and fear, and you, his. Besides that, he could read you like a book, and it wasn't because he was a profiler. There were just little tells about yourself that he noticed. He noticed you would rub a hand down your neck when you were uncomfortable or how excited you got when your favorite music would play.

You noticed the little things about him too. You picked up on how when Spencer got really invested in a newfound topic or something he wanted to share - he would scrunch his nose. You thought it was adorable, but you had never brought it up to him, not wanting him to stop doing it. You also noticed when his mood had shifted, no matter how hard he attempted to hide it.

The question at hand was how had you not noticed that the thread you were both holding onto was straining.

When you had gotten home, an anxious feeling filled you. You were nervous, to say the least, and it wasn't the good kind. With a deep breath, you opened the front door, hung your coat up, and kicked your shoes off.

Spencer was sat on the couch, papers in hand, but he put them aside when he saw you approaching. You sat across from him, opting to look down at the floor instead of his face. Both of you sat in silence for a while. The tickling of the clock on the wall and kitchen faucet dripping water were the only sounds filling the living room.

"We can't keep doing this." He was right. You couldn't keep doing this. The back and forth, the not talking to each other. It was beginning to become too much, and you both wished things could back to the way they were. But Spencer was a realist, and even though you could be a dreamer at times, you knew it wouldn't work out that way.

"I know." It was silent after that, those familiar sounds from before filling the room. You couldn't help but feel as though this was the end. You could barely look at him, and it seemed he couldn't look at you either.

"Spencer..." you paused before speaking. Was this what you wanted? To confront him and hope for the best? At this point, it seemed like your only choice is you wanted to salvage whatever was left.

"What are we doing?" You saw Spencer open his mouth, about to respond when you continued, "I mean- we can't keep doing this. I can't remember the last time we even had a proper conversation, one that wasn't exchanging pleasantries."

"45," Spencer said after a moment. You raised an eyebrow as you played with your bottom lip, "45? What are you-"

"That's how long. 45, 45 days ago was the last time we had a proper conversation, but I'm sure you're referring to before all of this happened." 45 days? The piece of thread waned.

You nodded, a soft sigh leaving your lips. Spencer shifted on the couch, running a hand through his messy hair. "I felt something odd happening between us exactly 92 days ago. I don't know if..."

He stopped talking, and you rose your head to look at him, "You don't know if what?" Spencer looked to you, mouth dropping open slightly. "What were you going to say?"

"Nothing," Spencer sighed, shaking his head as he stood. You followed his movements, standing up as well, "Don't 'nothing' me. What were you going to say?"

"I don't even know if I still love you, okay?!" His words hit you hard. It seemed as though he hadn't meant to blurt them out as his hand flew to his mouth, and he avoided your eyes. You took in a deep breath, contemplating your next words. He doesn't know if he still loves me, you thought as you stared at him. He doesn't love me anymore...

The silence was overbearing. It allowed you to wallow in your thoughts, be consumed by them. The piece of thread grew thinner and thinner. You blinked back tears. How long had Spencer been feeling this way? And did this mean your relationship was over? You didn't know, but you were about to find out.

"Y/N..." Spencer started, taking a cautious step towards you. You shook your head as you wrapped your arms around yourself. A gnawing pain entered you, causing your chest to tighten and your head to hurt, swarmed with thoughts about how this was your fault.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." You wanted to believe him; you truly did. The problem at hand was that even though he seemed sincere, you knew it was true, at least partially. If there was one thing to know about Spencer was thought he was factual. Everything he said was a fact, and that - what he said about not loving you anymore - was a fact. You didn't want it to be, but it was.

"Yes, you did," your voice wavered as you spoke, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze. Spencer's bottom lip jutted out. He looked at you as he rubbed the back of his neck, "I didn't."

"It's okay, Spence." Your hand quickly shot up and wiped at the tear falling down your face. It hurt, but you wanted to do what was best for both of you, what was best for him.

"If we can't-" you shook your head as more tears fell, and all Spencer wanted to do was hold you. He never liked it when you were sad - even more so when it was by his hand. There were few times either of you had made the other cry. But none of those occurred because one of you wasn't sure how much you loved the other.

"If us being together isn't good for you, then maybe..." You couldn't finish your sentence, but Spencer knew what you meant. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, shaking his head. "That's, that's not what I want. I don't want to lose you."

He stepped forward and rested his hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, inhaling his scent, "But, is it what you need?" He was silent after that. Was this what he needed? He didn't want to be apart from you, but you were right. Being apart from you, from your relationship as each other's significant others, was what he needed.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled softly, leaning forward and resting his forehead against yours. You smiled sadly, tears falling down your face. "Don't be."

He nodded, and you felt something warm on your face. He was crying, something that didn't happen often. Spencer was the type of person to hold everything in - when something would happen, he would bottle it up. It wasn't the case now, though.

He was about to speak when you wrapped your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his chest. He was quick to hold you close to him as he brushed the tip of his nose against the top of your head.

Your shoulders shook as you sobbed into his chest, tears wetting the fabric of his sweater vest.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." And he was, sorry, that is. He never wanted to hurt you, ever. But here he was, breaking your heart.

"I love you, Spencer." There was so much pain and love behind those four words that it was overbearing. It felt like you were suffocating, swallowed by the pain in your heart.

"I love you, Y/N," he said as he rememorized the way you felt in his warms because soon, he would no longer have you. As the two of you held each other, eyes closed as you relished the memory, the thread snapped, leaving you both on two cliffs, far away from the other.

---

"So," JJ came back to the table, drinks in hand, "how'd your date go?"

It had been almost two years since that night when everything changed. It hurt - the distance, the not being able to be with him, the loneliness. But you did what you knew was best for him. The rest of that night, you two held each other, no words spoken but small 'I love you's and sorrowful 'I'm sorry's.

Penelope accepted one of the fruit drinks JJ had just whipped up in the kitchen with grabby hands, "Yes. Your date. Spill." You all shook your head and laughed at her antics. Penelope raised her brow as she sipped from her straw, "Well?"

"It was nice," you said, resulting in the three ladies in front of you to lean in excitedly. While they were serious and professional when it came to their work, they loved to gossip.

"What happened?" Penelope asked, her grin growing. That was one of the things you loved about Penelope - she was so optimistic, and while others may find that annoying, you loved it.

"Well," you started, taking a long sip of your water as you weren't in much of a drinking mood tonight. You almost laughed at how invested the three were. It was like you had just left them on a cliffhanger, and they were waiting for the next episode.

"It was nice. He took me to dinner, and we had a nice walk around the park..." You were telling the truth, well, partially. The date wasn't as nice as you made it seem. Emily squinted her eyes at you, "What aren't you telling us?"

Ah, there it is. The perks of having profilers as friends, you couldn't lie to them or hide anything without them knowing. It was like they had a sixth sense, and sometimes you wished they didn't.

"He kissed me, and I'd be lying if I said I enjoyed it," you stated as you leaned back in your chair, munching on a few pretzels. The date had gone smoothly, and you were having fun. There was good conversation, and your date was nice company, a good distraction. The problem came when he took you home and gave you a goodnight kiss. When you got inside your apartment, you felt sick.

"It was a bad kiss, wasn't it?" Penelope pouted as she swirled her straw around, "Oh, I think I know what it was. Did he have one of those piercings?" she asked, gesturing with her hands. "You know, the hoop kind? I remember making out with this guy a while ago, and he had one of those. Worst decision ever."

You stared at her, amused, as she shuddered, thinking of the kiss. Emily leaned forward and took your hand in hers, "Well, hey, at least it wasn't as bad as the time you called your date the wrong name?"

JJ nodded, grabbing some pretzels of her own, "Yeah, what'd you call them again?" You sighed, looking down as you muttered it. The women looked at you in confusion. They had no idea what you said.

"Can you speak up, hun? We didn't hear you," JJ asked, making you sigh again. You fiddled with your fingers as you spoke, embarrassed about what you were going to tell them, "I called them Spencer."

It was silent for a second before Penelope spoke, bringing a light air to the room as she always did, "Oh, honey. You're not over him, yet, are you?"

You chuckled sarcastically, running a hand down your face frustratedly. "No, Pen, I'm not. Honestly, I don't know what to do anymore. I mean, no matter what I do, it's always him, always Spencer."

"Have you..." JJ paused, waiting for you to look at her, "Have you tried talking to Spence about it?"

You shook your head as you stood up from your chair, "I can't, Jayge, you know that." You could; you were just afraid. It took a while for you and Spencer to become friends again, not that you'd ever stopped, but someone falling out of love with can put a toll on your relationship with them.

"You can," Emily replied, voicing your thoughts. "I know it's hard-"

"Yeah, Em," you sighed as you paced back and forth, "it's really hard."

The three BAU agents felt for you. They didn't pity you, but they understood and sympathized with what you were going through. It's hard letting go of the people that you love, and they had all experienced that one way or another.

"We know, and all we're saying is for you think about it. The two of you are still friends, and I think it would be good for you to talk to about how you feel," the blonde said as she threw another pretzel in her mouth.

And you did, think about it. Which led you to where you were now - standing in front of a forest green painted door, decided whether or not you would knock.

Nope, not today. I'll just tell him that I got busy or something, you thought as you turned around, ready to leave. Fate wasn't in your favor because just as you were about to leave, the door opened, and the familiar smell of cinnamon wafted through the air.

"Are you leaving?" You could hear the hesitancy in Spencer's voice. Was he nervous? He shouldn't be. He's not the one who wants to talk about the past because he can't get over me.

"No, sorry. I thought I left my phone in the car," you said quickly, trying to cover up your blown cover. Spencer's eyes flitted down to your hand and raised an eyebrow, "It's in your hand."

You looked down, feigning surprise, "Right. My mind escapes me sometimes," you nervously laughed as you tapped the side of your head.

He eyed you suspiciously before widening his door, "Come in." You nodded and stepped in, Spencer closing the door behind you.

You took in your surroundings. It had been a while since you were last here, but everything was the same. Everything down to the books on the shelves and the photos on the wall was as it was before. The familiarity eased your nerves as you sat down on the couch while Spencer went to the kitchen.

Something caught your eye as you looked around the small apartment - it was a photo of the two of you. You had given it to Spencer as a gift one day. It was your favorite picture - the two of you were doing something crazy, and one of the team snapped it. You both looked so... happy. That was an emotion you hadn't felt in a while.

Spencer pulled you from your thoughts when he came back and handed you a cup. You took a sip and smiled softly, "You remembered." He made you hot chocolate, just the way you liked it.

"Of course, I did," he leaned back on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. "I do have an eidetic memory, you know." You did know, but you also knew that wasn't why he remembered. He remembered because, at one point, it was another one of the little things he noticed about you. You didn't like it too hot, warm but not too warm. And you only wanted a little sugar in it because the kind of hot cocoa you used had sweetener already added.

"So," you started, turning your body to face him. You were trying to give yourself enough confidence or courage to tell him how you felt. Honestly, you had no idea what you were going to say, but it was now or never. And you preferred the now.

"So," Spencer repeated, eyes twinkling as he mocked you. He had missed you, missed your presence, your touch. As much as he wished that night had never happened, he knew it was for the best.

"I wanted to talk to you about something that's been on my mind lately," you fiddled with your fingers nervously, "Well, it's been on my mind for a long time."

Spencer perked up at this, straightening up as his honey brown eyes watched you. He noticed all your little ticks, things you did when you were upset or nervous. He assumed it was the latter. "Is everything okay?"

You shrugged as you looked down at the floor, "Ye- no. No, I don't think so." You could see him about to say something, so you held up a hand, making him close his mouth, "Just let me finish. Please?"

Once he nodded, you dived back in, decided that if you didn't do it now, then you would never do it. "I've been trying really hard, Spence, but for some reason, I just can't... let you go. And I miss you all the time. I miss listening to you ramble on and on about quantum theory. I miss waking up next to you and coming home to you. I just miss you so much."

He didn't say anything, so you continued, "No matter what I do, everything comes back to you. And it hurts. It hurts so bad because I know that I'll never get to have you the way I once did."

You looked up to Spencer as silence filled the room. It was like that night when he had said something you hadn't expected, and you didn't know what to say. Except, this time, you were the one who said something he wasn't expecting, and he didn't know what to say.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop your eyes from watering. He has to say something. I need him to say something.

"Spence..." you called out softly when he still hadn't said anything. You were growing nervous. Had you ruined everything? Way to go, Y/N. You screwed up. Your head was swarming with thoughts as you watched him walk the length of the living back, avoiding your eyes each time he turned your way.

You covered your face with your hand as you shook your head, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even - god, what is wrong with me?" Tears prickled your eyes as a sick feeling filled your body. It hurt, and it wasn't because you weren't with him anymore. It was because you knew that now you'd never be with him in any capacity.

You rose your head, eyes filled with tears, when Spencer placed a hand on your shoulder. His hazel-colored eyes seemed to hold a cluster of emotions - sadness, regret, longing.

"I've missed you, too," his words came out in a hushed whisper, but you heard them loud and clear. He missed you. After all of this time, he missed you. You needed to hear it again, hear those words come out of his mouth one more time.

"Say it again." You sat up and locked eyes with him, "I need to hear you say it. I need to know that you've felt the same."

Spencer sighed softly as he grabbed your face in his hands, "I missed you, Y/N. I missed you so much. I've..." he paused, eyes searching yours to see if there was any hesitation - there wasn't. "I've had time to think, think about us, our relationship."

You nodded, prompting him to continue. "It wasn't that I never loved you. Because, believe me, I did. I just think that I fell out of love with you." Another stab to the heart. You tried not to let it show, but Spencer caught on the way your face dropped and how you looked away to avoid crying.

"But that doesn't mean that I haven't missed you. I've missed you a lot," he said quickly, attempting to correct his mistake. He hadn't meant for it to come out that way. "I'm sorry. That came out wrong. I'm just nervous."

"Why? Are you nervous to tell me that even though you missed me, we can't be together? Because if that's the case, then just tell me now." You couldn't just sit here and listen to Spencer explain why he stopped loving you. It was selfish, but you didn't want to hear it because you weren't sure if you had fallen out of love with him too.

Spencer frantically shook his head, "No. That wasn't what I wanted to say." You nodded your head slowly before meeting his gaze, "Then what do you mean?"                

"I'm not sure how or exactly when our love for each other starting waning, but all I know is that I've missed you." You had missed him too, but this didn't tell you what the fates had in store for you.

"So..." you looked up at him in confusion, "what do you want?"

He sighed before taking a step back as he shook his head, "I think..." his eyes met yours, "What if we started over?"

You raised an eyebrow, even more confused. What did this mean? Spencer must have caught on to your confusion because he was quick to explain his thinking, well, his introduction. "Hi, I'm Spencer."

You just stared at him, no expression on your face. What the hell is he talking about? Of course, I know he's Spencer. Is he... maybe he's confused. Yeah, that has to be it.

"I miss you, Y/N," he said, quietly, as he looked down, "If we start over, we can rebuild our relationship - from the beginning. I know it sounds crazy, but I don't want to lose you... not again."

"Maybe I can learn to love you again, and you can learn to strengthen our love for me? We could just start over." He paused, looking at the indecisive look on your face, "I'm sorry. This was stupid. I shouldn't have even-"

You were quick to cut him off, "Hi, I'm Y/N."

He let out a soft breath of air before sitting down next to you on the couch, a small smile on his face as he held out his right hand, "Spencer."

It was then, at that moment, that you felt the fates winding up a spool of thread. But this time, it was a new piece for the new chapter for both of you.

—

a/n: done! i hope you guys liked this, angst and all :)

[write-orflight]

Like Real People Do. Chapter 4

*Gif not mine*

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Rating: M, eventually will be smut.

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Sexual themes, talk about sex (not NSFW though), fainting, reader just being thirsty in general. 

Request: OPEN/CLOSED

A.N We’re getting into the main crux of the story now! Message to be added to the taglist. thanks for reading! Much love, Cia

                Chapter 4: Why were you digging?  

Months pass and the early spring turns into hot humid D.C summer. You were never a big fan of the summer, you preferred the colder months despite the bad memories you had associated with them. 

Things changed and some things stayed the exact same. You caught bad guys, which was typical, you actually ended up getting tackled by a drunk Unsub once which results in you being out of the field with a broken arm for four weeks. You found a cat in an alley digging through the trash near your apartment one day when you were walking home. You left food out for him since until one day he decided to come up to you. And now you have a cat you affectionately named Garbage. 

You and Ethan (the guy from the bar) had a “situation-ship”, as Garcia liked to call it for about a month and a half. In your opinion, there was no situation-ship, you guys had mediocre sex until he wanted more and was upset you “worked too much”. So when he “broke up” with you, you weren’t really upset. Your heart wasn’t in it anyway. 

You and Spencer never talked about that night at the bar. In fact, you hardly talked at all. Your Saturday’s together stopped, you had no excuse to see each other now you were finished with school. Now that there was no thesis, there was no thesis for him to help with. 

That didn’t stop Spencer from occupying the space in your head rent-free though. You couldn’t help yourself, he was always in the forefront of your mind and frankly it was starting to affect how you worked. It was a paperwork day and everyone was working silently, merely coexisting and since there was nothing really going on your mind couldn’t help but wander. Spencer was sitting across you reading case files, taking occasional notes in a legal pad next to him. Your eyes instantly went to his hands as he traced it down the page as he often did when he was reading. You studied them for a while, long slender fingers resting on massive palms. You never thought you were someone who’d be attracted to hands but the amount of times you thought about them on particularly lonely nights, specifically the things he could do with them. 

Yea, it was enough to make you a cheirophile. 

You went back to watching him when suddenly one of the aforementioned hands were waving in your face. 

“Y/N” he said. “I’ve been calling your name for 3 minutes.” 

“I’m sorry, Spen.” You flush instantly at being caught. “What did you need?” 

“I asked if you had a red pen I could borrow?” 

“Yea.” You rummaged through your drawer, producing the pen in question. His hand brushes yours as he grabs it, you try very hard not to shiver at the contact but you couldn’t help it. “Keep it.” you say. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He says. “You’ve been extremely out of it lately.”

He was right, you have been out of it lately. Spencer was putting you out of it. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that night at the bar and your almost kiss. Since then, it was like he was trying to constantly bring your attention to his mouth, whether it was by his habit of stealing lollies from Garcia’s office or the constant biting and licking of his lips whenever he was deep in thought. They had seared their way into your frontal lobe without permission. 

Working with him had become exceptionally hard and an unwelcome distraction, especially out in the field. Last month, the two of you had gone undercover in a nightclub, an unsub had been murdering young couples who were overly affectionate in public, so you had to spend the night practically wrapped around the man you had an insane crush on, breathing in his scent. You sipped your “cocktail” (it was just cranberry juice) as Spencer kept his arm steady around your waist. Eventually, you hear Emily in the earpiece you were wearing. 

“You’ve gotta do more guys if we’re going to draw him out.” She says. 

“Yea and loosen up. If  you guys look uncomfortable, no ones going to believe you’re a couple.” Morgan adds. 

You and Spencer look at each other for a beat.  

“If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, you’ll tell me right?” He whispers to you. You nod instantly. Suddenly Spencer’s arm is tighter around you, pulling you flush to his body. He dips down attaching his lips to your neck and jawline. You gasp, you had not been expecting that at all, you clutch your drink harder other hand moving to his side. He pulls you in tighter somehow, suddenly you feel his hand move downward until he is palming your ass, you bite your lip to keep your composure but his lips suddenly meet that spot behind your earlobe that he couldn’t have possibly known about prior. A quiet moan unintentionally rips through you and you could’ve sworn you felt his fingers twitch, squeezing your ass slightly. Emily and Morgan were right, the Unsub did approach you guys shortly after that and led you into the alley like he did so many couples before only to be met by your badges and guns. 

Then there was the time a couple of months ago when you and Reid had gone to interview a child psychiatrist and discovered that he was a molester. Spencer had been livid talking to the man, making threats that honestly should've been promises to throw the man in jail. You had never seen Spencer angry or at the very least this angry, and for some reason that turned you on beyond belief. 

You decided to close that can of worms and save it for another day. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” You say, smiling tightly at him turning back to your stack of files. You couldn’t be mad at Spencer for your inability to keep it in your pants while you were working. So that’s what you did, worked and tried to avoid Spencer as much as you could. And if that night from the club replayed in your head often while you were alone in your bed that night like many nights before, it was no one’s business but your own. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the morning, you woke to the sound of construction equipment being used next to your apartment. D.C’s already so dense. What more could they be building?   You thought as you got up to make yourself a much needed cup of coffee. 

Now without your schoolwork or  standing date with Spencer, Saturdays always felt too long. You drank your coffee, read a book, watched some TV and when you looked at the time it was still only noon. You sighed heavily before getting up to get changed. The weather was nice, you hoped a jog would at the very least tire you out so you could waste a couple hours napping. 

So off you went, down the path of a nearby park. You had been jogging for about 30 minutes when you see a familiar shape in the distance. As you get closer you notice it’s exactly who you wanted it to be. 

“Hey, Spen!” You say excitedly as you slow to a stop in front of him. He looks up from the book he was reading on the bench. He smiles once he sees you. “Y/N, Hey.” He says. 

“What’re you doing in the park alone?” You ask. 

He lifts up his book. “I just came to read, thought a change of scenery would do me better than sitting around my apartment.” He says 

“Same here. Now that I finished school, it feels like I have too much time in the day. Now it just feels like I’m doing stuff just to keep myself busy, hence the jogging.” You say lifting your leg slightly, pointing out the running shoes you were wearing. You felt his eyes slowly trail up your bare legs, taking in your form slowly and diligently as if he thought he would forget it all the second he blinked. His eyes finally stopped at yours and you released the breath you didn’t know you holding. 

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your book. I’ve still got 2 miles to go.” You say, as you start to jog away, you hear Spencer call out to you. You stop and turn back. “Yea?” you ask. 

“Umm…” He says trailing off before taking a breath. “I’m going to see a movie later, I was hoping maybe you’d wanna come? It’s in french, but I can whisper-translate for you.” He says. 

“Yea sure, I’m doing anything else.” You say, a little too excitedly. Calm down, Y/N, he didn’t even say it was a date. You think to yourself. “What time should I meet you there?” 

“7?” He says. 

“Great! See you at 7, Reid!” You say before jogging away. 

------------------------------------------------------------------

You leave your house around 6:45, after spending about an hour and a half trying to find something to wear. Since it wasn’t a date, or since he didn't say it was one, you opted for something casual. A pair of comfortable jean shorts and your favorite band’s t-shirt. You did light makeup, and after an inspection in the mirror you decided you looked the right amount of cute and comfortable. 

Spencer was waiting outside the theater when you arrived. He was dressed casually too, a blazer over a simple t-shirt, cuffed jeans and converse. He smiles brightly at you as you walk up to join him. 

He insists on paying for the movie and you have to fight him to get him to let you at least pay for snacks but soon you are seated in the almost empty theater together. 

He moves close to you as the movie starts, whispering translations in your ear. At some point halfway through the movie, his arm ends up around your back as he continues to translate, your hand falls instinctively to his thigh. 

The movie ends eventually, and the two of you begin to walk outside together. You know a really good ice cream place that’s not a far walk from the theatre so you suggest going Spencer instantly says yes. You guys walk in silence for a while before you open your mouth to say something. 

“Can I confess something to you?” You ask him. 

He turns and looks at you. “Yea, what is it?” 

“Je parle quatre langues, dont une est le français.” (I speak four languages, one of which is french.) You say. 

He looks at you incredulously. “Pourquoi m'avez-vous laissé traduire le film entier pour vous?” (Why did you let me translate the entire movie for you?) He asks 

“Tu veux dire, pourquoi t'ai-je laissé chuchoter à mon oreille pendant deux heures d'affilée?” (You mean, Why did I let you whisper in my ear for two hours straight?) You smile flirtatiously at him. “Je suis sûr que tu peux comprendre celui-là.” (I'm sure you can figure that one out) You nudge him with your arm. “Come on, I believe you owe me ice cream.” 

----------------------------------------------------

You and Spencer, deciding you don’t want the night to end just yet,  take your ice cream and walk to a park. You lick lazily at the cone you opted for opposed to the cup he got. You guys seem to try and catch up on everything the two of you had done since your last coffee shop visit. He tells you about the books and Doctor’s journals he’s read. You explain to him the entire plot of the latest season of Drag race. You talk and talk and talk, to the point you don’t even realize it’s getting late. 

“It’s late.” he says, “We should head back.” 

And so you do, the two of you walk back to your cars parked near the movie theatre in semi-silence. As the two of you approach your driver door, you turn to look at each other. 

“This was fun, to hang out, I mean.” You say. 

“Yea, it was.” He adds. “I’d like to do it more, if you don’t mind.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’d love that.” you say. 

He takes a step closer to you and you do the same. This was it, he was finally going to kiss you. He looks down at your lips and up to your eyes again as if searching for the approval you give a quick tiny nod. He smiles, moving a hand to the side of your head leaning into you--

Your phone rings. He takes a step back. 

Moment ruined.   

You look at your caller ID. “It’s Hotch.” you say, he nods at you while you answer the phone “Y/L/N” you say. 

“Y/N/N, you need to meet me at the office. Right now.” He says. 

“Why sir? Is there a case?” You ask. 

“No case.” He says. “Gabriel Ferguson’s date has been set.” 

That name. 

You tried everyday to forget that name. 

The name of the man who took your family. 

Your innocence. 

Your way of life. 

Gabriel Ferguson. 

The Beechwood Killer. 

You freeze. Spencer is watching you, concerned now. “W-Why do you need me to come in for that?” You stutter. 

“Because… he’s refusing to tell us where he dumped the first bodies.” Hotch pauses. “Until he speaks to you.” 

You drop your phone. 

The last thing you hear is Spencer calling out to you while everything fades to black.

Taglist: @haylaansmi​     @yoruebeautiful​ @kianagilder-blog​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @bihoeofmanyfandoms @dreamer7black​ @baby-banana​ @drreidshands​ @blameitonthenight21​ @slyskyeey​ @liaabsurd​ @di-essere-amato​

[catlynhoss05]

How Far We’ve Come Ch. 2

Tony DiNozzo x sister!reader Jethro x reader

Tony DiNozzo x sister!reader Jethro x reader

Summary: (Y/n) gets home from deployment and surprises her older brother, Tony DiNozzo. What she didn’t expect was to fall head over heels in love with Leroy Jethro Gibbs. (You guys remember in season 14 where Alex Quinn and Nick Torres’s desks were facing each other? That’s how (Y/N) and McGee’s desks are.)

     (Y/N) sighed, running her hand through her short platinum blonde hair as she leaned back in her chair. She was set up at a temporary desk while things got figured out. She was now doing all the required paperwork that needed to be done for her to become an agent. ‘Man, this is taking forever.’ She thought to herself as she continues working on her paperwork. (Y/N) didn’t expect the paperwork to take this long and required so much reading. “Hey, sis. How’s the paperwork going?” Tony asked as he leaned up against his desk. “It’s taking forever, Tony. I honestly did not expect this much paperwork. I just want to be done with it.” (Y/N) groaned, resting her head in her hands. “At least you have two more papers to do. It’ll be worth it, I promise.” Tony said, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Thanks, Tony.” (Y/N) gives him a half smile.

     When (Y/N) had finished her paperwork and gave it to HR, it was about 2 o’clock in the afternoon. As (Y/N) walked back into the bullpen, she wasn’t so sure on what she was supposed to do now. So, she had decided to go sit down at her desk that was next to Tim’s. “Hey, (Y/N).” Ziva called out from her desk. “Yeah, what’s up?” (Y/N) asked. “Has Tony always been so...?” “Tony? Yes, he has. Oh, the stories I could tell you about our childhood.” (Y/N) chuckles. “Those’ll have to wait, (Y/N). Got a dead Lieutenant. Grab your gear.” Gibbs says as he walks into the bullpen and to his desk. “Me too, Gibbs?” (Y/N) asked, standing up from her desk. “Yes, you too. And, here’s your badge and gun...... Probie.” Gibbs gives his signature smile as he hands her her stuff. He turns on his heel, making his way to the elevator where the other three agents are waiting. (Y/N) smiles and grabs her new NCIS jacket off the back of her chair and hurries to the elevator with the rest of the team.

     Once the team arrived to the crime scene, (Y/N) notices that the crime scene was in an alley way next to a country line dance type of bar. “Man, I love me a good line dance.” She said as she walked up to Gibbs. “You like line dancing?” Gibbs asked, smiling. “Yes, sir. I have soft spot for everything country. Especially line dancing and old western movies. So, what-” (Y/N) was interrupted by an excited McGee. “Boss, you’ve got to hear (Y/N) sing. She is amazing.” McGee said excitedly. “Look, I was in the back of the van and the song ‘My Maria’ by Brooks and Dunn had come on and I just couldn’t resist to NOT sing along. Can we please get to work now?” (Y/N) blushes. “I like that idea. (Y/N), do crime scene photos. Ziva, bag and tag. DiNozzo and McGee, get witness statements.” Gibbs barks out.

     “Hey, (Y/n). You should tell Gibbs about those home movies that we’ve made.” Tony chuckled. “Just get to work, Anthony. I’m a Sniper and I will end you.” (Y/n) said, starting to take the crime scene photos. “What do we have, Duck?” Gibbs asked as he crouched beside Ducky. “Well Jethro, looks like he was beaten with a hollow object. I do believe that either this blow to the head or this needle mark on his neck had killed our Lieutenant. I’ll know more when I get him back to autopsy.” Ducky explains. Gibbs stands up from where he was crouched down at when he sees Tony and McGee were walking back over to the scene.

     “What did you guys find out from the witnesses?” Gibbs asked. “They all pretty much said the same thing. They all saw Lieutenant Andrews having some drinks with some buddies for a few hours, but didn’t see the Lieutenant leave. That was all that they remembered.” McGee explained. “There was one guy though, Alan Michaels. He said he saw a man about 5′8″, red hair, medium build, follow Lieutenant Andrews out of the bar last night.” Tony said. "Did you get his number just in case we may need him, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked. "Yes, boss."

     Once (Y/n) was done taking the crime scene photos, she was making her way over to Gibbs, McGee and Tony when a truck's exhaust backfires. The sound of the exhaust backfiring triggers a bit of (Y/n)'s PTSD that she didn't know that she had. The noise makes her drop to her knees and covers her ears with her hands while she still had the camera strap hanging from her neck. Tony and McGee take notice of (Y/n)'s actions when she goes down to her knees and run over to her. "Hey, hey, hey. (Y/n), it's okay. You're okay. Just breathe." Tony says to her as he's on his knees in front of her.

     Gibbs ran over to the commotion to see if he could be of any help. "N-No..... Make it stop. M-Make it stop, please." (Y/n) begged. "(Y/n), it's okay. It's over; it's all over. It was just a truck exhaust that backfired." Tony soothed as he pulled (Y/n) into a hug. After a few minutes of hugging, she spoke up. "I think I'm good now, Tony. Thank you." Tony pulled away and helped his sister up off of the ground. "No problem. But, are you sure that you're okay?" He asked. "Yes, Tony. I'm okay and I'm sorry if I had scared you guys. I never had that happen before." She said as she looked at McGee and Gibbs. "It's okay, (y/n). We're just glad that you're okay." McGee reassured her. She gave him a shy smile in return. "I've been home now for two weeks and not returning back to home base anymore is something I still haven't gotten use to. But the hard part of being home was having to bury two of my Marine brothers." (Y/n) explained to the agents. Gibbs knew all to well how that was like when he had gone through the same thing and then some. "Anyway....." (Y/n) sighed. "I was actually just coming over to tell you, Gibbs, that I'm done with the crime scene photos. Oh, and that Ducky and Palmer are done as well and are actually loaded up and ready to go." (Y/n) explained. "Alright. (Y/n), you ride with me this time and the you two and Ziva take the van." "Yes, sir." (Y/n) gave McGee the camera and started to follow Gibbs back to the squad car.

     The car ride back to the office had started out pretty quiet between Gibbs and (y/n). "So, does Vance know about your fallen brothers?" Gibbs asked as he glanced over at her. "Yes, he does. That's why I didn't come back into the office to start filling out the rest of my paperwork right away. I, uh...... Had to bury one of my brothers the other week and then my other brother last week with some time in between to cope with the losses." (Y/n) rubbed her face and sighed. "Do you mind if I turn on the radio?" She asked. "It doesn't work." Gibbs chuckled, earning a smirk from (y/n). Gibbs had started developing feelings for the young agent since the moment they met. He had a suspicious feeling that she had the same feelings for him by the lingering looks and the way she occasionally looked away when they made eye contact.

     “So, what are these home movies that Tony was talking about?” Gibbs asked with a chuckle. (Y/n) groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “When I decided that I was going to enlist in the Core, it was like two weeks before I graduated high school. Tony and I had made this promise with each other....” She trailed off. “We made this promise that before I left for boot camp and for whenever I came home on leave, we would make as many home movies as we could before I had to leave again.” (Y/n) explained with a smile as she recalled the memories. “What were the movies about?” Gibbs asked curiously.

     “We played the piano and sang random songs together for some of them. Then there were some where either Tony or myself played the piano while singing as the other would make up some random dance behind the other. And then the rest were just of us in the kitchen acting like we were professional chefs and making complete fools of ourselves.” She laughed as she described the home movies. Gibbs smiled and laughed along with her as he pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. Gibbs and (y/n) made their way back into the NCIS building. They were in the elevator back up to the bullpen when (y/n) spoke up. “I’m sorry if I had scared you at the crime scene today. That’s never happened before and I’m pretty sure it’s from what I experienced in the Core.” (Y/n) apologized.

     “It’s alright. I’m just glad that you’re okay.” Gibbs said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Oh, I almost forgot. Do you have any plans this weekend? Because, I need some help with the moving truck and getting everything into my apartment. I’ll even order us some take out. What do you say, Gibbs?” (Y/n) asked. “Of course I’ll help. I can bring the beverages. Beer or Bourbon?” He asked. “Uh, duh. Bourbon!” “Deal.” Gibbs chuckled. He loved the way she smiled at him and the way she looked at him with a sparkle in those big brown eyes of hers. “Thanks, Gibbs. I’m just glad that I made a deal with my landlord. And that I have a pretty awesome boss too.” (Y/n) chuckled, lightly bumping shoulders with Gibbs.

     When everyone on team Gibbs had gotten back to the office, it had been a couple of hours or so and every lead that had came through was a dead end. Until (y/n) came across Lieutenant Skylar Andrews’ phone records. “Found something.” She spoke up as she did some more digging on the phone records. “What did you find, (y/n)?” Gibbs asked, coming over to her desk. “I think that the Lieutenant was gay.” She said, looking up at Gibbs. “You think?” He quirked an eyebrow at her. She raised her eyebrows at him and leaned back in her chair. “May I continue or do you wanna do this instead?” She challenged. Gibbs chuckled and shook his head. “Go on.”

     (Y/n) smirked and sat back up. “Well, the Lieutenant had made a lot of calls and had messaged the same number for the last two years. I’ve gone through and read some of the very detailed messages to where I came to know that he, in fact, was gay. He was calling and messaging his boyfriend of two years.” (Y/n) explained. “And how do you know for sure that he was gay and contacting his boyfriend?” Tony asked. “The messages were very detailed and by very detailed, I mean there were VERY graphic photos too.” She explained again. “If that’s the case, then how do we catch our guy?” Tim asked. “You can send two of us into the bar acting as a gay military couple to lure the man out. Then we can catch him there.” (Y/n) said to Gibbs and waited as he thought about it for a minute.

     “Ziver. You and (y/n) go into the bar tonight as a couple But, what’s our game plan here?” Gibbs asked. “Do you know how to line dance, Ziva?” (Y/n) asked. “Yes, but I haven’t been line dancing in a few years.” Ziva answered. “Okay. C’mon, David. We gotta practice line dancing before tonight. Oh, and Gibbs. What uniform should I wear?” (Y/n) asked. “Wear your fatigues.” “Got it, boss. And, Tony. I got a hotter girlfriend than you do.” (Y/n) joked.

[lutbys]

Christmas Party

Day 1 of Christmas at Hogwarts:

1st – You and Draco are sworn enemies. Always have, always will. But an evening spent decorating the Slytherin common room has got you both rethinking your choices.

a/n: MY DUMB ASS! I woke up this morning to no notifications for day one and i was lowkey sad bc I thought no one like it but when I checked again, I POSTED IT PRIVATELY UGHHGUGG *biggest facepalm of the century. No, at this point I've smashed my head against the wall* So I guess its on the 2nd of December then hHHHH I’m truly sorry for my dumbmity.

Draco Malfoy x Slytherin reader

“You want me to do this all by myself!” you gawked at the boxes upon boxes of Christmas decorations Pansy dug up for tonight. “And how do you expect this to look good?”

“That’s where you come in silly! I’ve seen your decorating skills back home and its impressive. That’s why you’re our party decorator” Pansy replied, gleaming at the shiny tinsel and the mountain of fairy lights. Who knew there was enough space in this dungeon to store such cheerful items?

“But I didn’t agree to this stupid party in the first place!”

“Typical of y/n to back out at the last minute. What next? You didn’t plan on getting married so why host a wedding?” you hear Draco scoff as he descended down the stairs that lead to the dorms, his arms tucked into each other and his face disgruntled just like how he would every time he caught sight of you.

“Shut it Malfoy. I don’t see you being of much help either.” To that he only scoffed and turned his back to join in on a conversation with Blaise.

It wasn’t rocket science for anybody to realize you and Draco were never on the same page. Its been like this since the first year, from the awful hair pulling to sabotaging each other’s cauldrons during potions class. You never knew why but when you first caught sight of the boy, you’d knew you’d hate him.

“Now that the venue is all settled, Nott, Zabini and I are going to Hogsmeade for the snacks. Draco you coming?” Pansy ticked off errands from her endless to do list, her eyes racking through the list multiple times like the perfectionist she is.

“Waste my time walking around? No thank you.”

“Then its settled, Draco you can help y/n doll this place up. The faster, the better.” Before he could utter an excuse, the busy girl had pushed the two other boys away and exited the common room.

You stood in awe at the situation your best friend put you in. The two of you stood dumbfoundedly among the boxes as you raked your brain on how you were going to turn this musty dungeon into a welcoming hall.

“I suggest we throw all this shit out and call it a day.” Draco grunted, kicking a box of ornaments till it toppled and you watched as three glittery green globes fall and break into little pieces. “Unlike you, I actually have important things to do.”

“Like what? Being a git? Who do you think is going to clean that up Draco?” You bit back, pointing to the scatter of broken glass that once used to be delicate trinkets. 

“you know what? I’ve had enough of you for today. I’m going to decorate this part of the room” You gestured your hands around the fireplace “And you can decorate all the way over there”

With a dramatic roll of his eyes, Draco agreed and moved over to the tables along with his pick of decorative items.

-

You’ve been staring at the fireplace for longer than you wished but your mind is blank. Completely blank. And you dreaded to turn and see how much Draco has done because all you’ve been hearing for the past half hour are the crinkles of the tinsel and his frustrated moans whenever the wrapping paper didn’t fold the way he wanted it to.

Your eyes shifted from box to box as you tried to come up with something creative. Sure, your living room back at home would look extravagant to guests but that was all mom’s doing, all you had to do was help put them up. 

-

It was the absence of the gold chain that once perched itself on top of the dodgy Santa stuffy that caught your attention.

I swear I saw it a moment ago

You were also wondering why the gold star for the tree was missing too! After rummaging through the countless number of boxes, there was only one other person you could think of to have stolen it.

“Oi Malfoy! Next time you take something from my side, ask!” You rolled your eyes at his obliviousness.

“Why would I want things from your side? Mine looks better to begin with.” “Then where did the star for the Christmas tree go?” your confusion grew as he mirrored your expression. What is happening?

Just then, you caught sight of a little dark grey blob running across the room, its little feet making little to no noise against the carpeted floors. You and Draco turned to each other with wide eyes, Care of Magical Creatures taught you well enough to identify it as a Niffler, the little rodent who steals.

“What the hell are we going to do?” you whisper-shouted, eyeing the single seated sofa you last saw it run by.

“Its your problem y/l/n. I’m not touching that thing.” 

“Don’t be daft Malfoy, if we don’t catch it, your stupid watch will be next!” Draco scoffed at your exaggeration, but his reaction quickly dimmed as he fingered his wrist at where his fathers watch used to be.

“My watch! You jinxed it you little minx.” 

“See! If we don’t catch it now who knows what will be nex- Hey!” you watched the sly critter reach out for the string of tinsel on the floor, barely grabbing hold before going back into hiding.

Your feet worked faster than your brain as you lurched towards the sofa, trying to grab hold of its little tail but to no avail, it was faster. “Draco look out! He’s coming your way!” 

Before it could dodge the white-haired boy, Draco had caught it swiftly. The poor creature tried to wriggle himself to escape, but Draco’s grip was stronger. “Hagrid’s right. It does feel funny.” His face grimaced at the sight of the thing, its flat beak and teeny arms was not sitting right for him.

“From what I remember, all you have to do is hold it by its hind legs and shake it.” You watched him follow your instructions and everything instantly fell out of its pocket. From coins to a small piece of confetti, it rained gold. You laughed in bewilderment at the sight in front of you. Sure, you’ve learned anything and everything about these magical creatures but having the opportunity to see one in real life was quite a scene to remember. It seemed Draco too was amused with the sight.

“What a cheeky little rat! Look at all he’s stolen.” Draco said after trapping the Niffler in a nearby crate. “I don’t think this is the only house he visited.” He held out a gold Gryffindor badge that once belonged to a prefect.

“That was pretty impressive. Never seen one in my life!” your hand raked through the lost knick-knacks like it was a treasure chest. “I’m going to put this back, Pansy should be back anytime now and I know she’d freak if she came back to this mess.”

Draco too took the liberty of scooping from the pile and just then, your hands touched. You couldn’t tell if it was the adrenaline of having seen a Niffler or never have had contact with Draco, but it felt different. Almost, nice. 

It was when you looked up when you realized how close you both were to each other, close enough that your breaths mingled, close enough that if your lips were to touch-

“We’re back and we’re ready for the biggest party yet!” Pansy excitement boomed from the picture frame they entered through; her hands filled with bags from Honeydukes. 

Like acid being poured over, you both pulled away instantaneously. “What the hell happened in here!” The once happy girl’s smile went agape when she saw the mess beyond her. The chairs were toppled, the lights that were supposed to be on the walls were scattered on the floor, and a suspicious looking crate was moving on its own.

“We had a bit of a Niffler situation” you scratched the back of your neck guiltily, you had failed the one task you were given, and miserably at that. “But it’s okay! I promise you I will fix all of it.” Your words seemed to encourage her, knowing her trust on you was strong.

“You have an hour and an HOUR only.”

-

“The most memorable party of the year!”

“This beats Gryffindor’s for sure” 

You rolled your eyes at the cocky compliments thrown around, knowing well enough it all came from your group of friends. You didn’t know how, but you miraculously made this place lively with the time given. Having your friends entertain you whilst at it added bonus points. Now, you awed at how the lights made the room glow and the green, black and white banners hung proudly by the fireplace.

But one thing kept running through your mind as the party went on in full swing.

Draco.

You couldn’t get this afternoons incident out of your head. You never noticed how his eyes were so mesmerizing and his scent so intoxicating that you would have all your clothes doused to smell like it. 

And he couldn’t get you out of his head too.

Draco stood lonely near the staircases, having no mood to mingle as he was knackered from the days events. But it was also an excuse to think over things when it came to you. He rewinded the scene over and over again, wondering what would happen it the moment never stopped, if Pansy wouldn’t have opened her loud mouth and disturbed them.

You both parted -quickly at that- as soon as the group came back, not daring to look into each others eyes for the rest of the evening.

But here you were, searching through the crowds for the one pair of eyes that had made your heart stop.

And you found them.

Staring straight back.

[prettyboyreid]

tell me about the stars

Request: For the prompt list could you do number 1 from the angst/sad section and can it be reid speaking to cat? Maybe at her execution or him visiting her in prison or something? Thanks!

Cat Adams had one last request of Dr. Reid before her execution.

Warnings: Mentions of needles, mentions of death

Word Count: 6,014

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

He looked over the letter he had just received from the Mount Pleasant Women’s Correctional Facility one more time, both at the official announcement he had requested after his last meeting with her, along with a handwritten letter with the name “Spencie” written in wide, neat letters, signed at the bottom by none other than Cat Adams. 

He leaned forward on the round table as he looked it over again, glancing up at the door at the sound of a light knock.  He gave Jennifer a small, obviously forced smile, looking down at the flimsy notebook paper once again. 

“Everything okay, Spence?” she asked him in her motherly voice, knowing it was more of an impulse whenever she noticed him under duress.  His hands grasped onto the edges of the table until the bones in his knuckles pressed against the skin, burning them white.  He simply shook his head, some of his light brown curls falling down into his eyes. 

“Her execution is next Thursday.  She requested the lethal injection,” he told her, his hazel eyes scanning over her writing again to make sure he actually understood what she had asked of him.  Knowing her, however, made the entire letter feel more like a demand.  He slid the paper across the table to his friend, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes as he let out a groan.  The blonde woman picked up the paper, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she read what had been written to him.

“Spencie, 

I hope you haven’t missed me too much since our last date.  I know I left you probably missing me like crazy, but I’m sure you managed to control yourself without me around. 

They gave me the execution date, two weeks from today - two days before your birthday, if my math is correct.  Of course, by lethal injection.  I might as well shoot up once before I die, right? 

I managed to get my lawyer to work out a deal with the warden.  I didn’t want any special last meal - I’ll end up looking too bloated in my best dress when you bury me, and I can’t have you having that as your last image of me.  

I want one last date with the good doctor - you, of course. 

I figured you’d be at the execution anyway, but I wanted to make sure you got to say your last goodbyes to me before you lost me forever.  Now, whether you decide to bring me a Happy Meal or not is entirely up to you.  Whatever you need to set the mood.  Personally, I’d prefer something more classy for our last meeting, but it is up to the gentleman to bring it all together.  It’s just my job to look pretty. 

I can’t wait to see you again, Spencie.  I know you can’t wait to see me either.  Tell Maxine and Mommy Dearest I said hi! 

-Cat Adams xoxo”

She even went so far as to draw a little heart at the bottom of the page, with “S+C” written on the inside of it.  

“I have to go.”

“No, you don’t Spence,” she quickly assured him, folding the letter up before making her way around the table to talk to him.  She leaned herself against the edge of the table as she spoke to him, her hands folding together in her lap as she looked over at him.  He kept his focus on the execution notice in front of him.  

“She’s just trying to get into your head one last time.  It’s what she does.  If you go, she wins,” she tried to convince him.  He looked over at her after a few moments, pushing out a breath of air through his nose.  

“What if she’s planning something else?  What if she’s trying to hurt someone again and I’m the only one who has the ability to stop it?”  He asked, knowing that every time she wanted to speak to him someone was getting hurt.  He didn’t want to talk to her, he told himself, but he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt at the hands of Cat Adams.   JJ sighed out heavily as she listened to his concerns, knowing where he was coming from, but still not liking the idea of him being in the same room as her again. 

“I know it’s frustrating, but she doesn’t have a taunt about anything specific this time, besides you mom and Max, but we know that they’re both safe and will be.  I really just think she’s trying to get in your head.”

He tugged at the tightly knotted tie that clung to the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling as though he was being suffocated by his choice.  He paced around the room as he thought  through all of the possible situations and outcomes of what she could possibly do, but it was no use.  She was the one person that was always able to stump him.  She was by no means as smart as him, but she was by far one of the most clever people he’d ever come in contact with.  It was one of the handful of things he hated about her. 

“I don’t think I can take that chance, Jennifer,” he said softly, his feet finally coming to a stop in front of the large window overlooking the bullpen.  He watched as Tara and Luke talked at his desk, and Emily and Matt having their first cup of coffee in their little kitchen.  Emily had a stack of files under her arms, probably looking into a replacement for Rossi.  Kevin Lynch was currently covering for Garcia while they searched for her replacement, but he knew that a lot of the team would rather keep him on since they at least knew him.  He looked back to his best friend, her hands still laced together in her lap as she watched him, letting him make the decision for himself.

He couldn’t risk any of them getting hurt because he was too prideful to go face a woman that they had outsmarted three times before.  

JJ already knew that. 

-

After work on Thursday, he had called in a takeout order for an Italian restaurant that was on the way to the prison.  He figured he could at least play into her fantasy if she did have something planned.  It was probably the best way to protect everyone. 

He picked up the order and drove to the prison.  It was a silent drive, but his mind raced a mile a minute.  For the past week and a half, she had been stuck under his skin like a splinter, and he couldn’t wait to put it all behind him.  For five years now, she had followed him and his team, trying to break them down and beat them.  Today was the last time they’d ever need to think about her. 

He decided on going alone, mostly to minimize any possible damage she could try to inflict, and because he didn’t know what really was going to happen.  He had a habit of losing his temper around her, and he didn’t want to give her the benefit of the doubt by letting his team see the way she could affect him. 

Once he had parked his car in one of the available spots near the entrance, he turned off the car and sitting at the wheel, his eyes fixated on the sign in front of him, reminding him where he was.   He didn’t want to be here.  It was the absolute last place he wanted to be in the entire world.  But, of course, he worried what she would do if he didn’t show up.  

As the watch that clung onto his wrist showed the time of 7:45 PM, he gripped tightly onto the steering wheel and let out a heavy breath.  He thought for a brief moment, he should just turn around and go back home.  He should forget about all of this, forget about her, and let her execution play out the way it was supposed to.  

He pushed the car door open and grabbed the bag of food, locking the doors before he made his way to the front doors of the prison.  Upon entering, he flashed one of the guards his FBI badge, letting them know why he was there silently.  The guard nodded towards another in the little booth by the entrance, and the door pushed itself open.  

He led Spencer back through a dark hall of the building, the only sounds he could hear being his heavy steps and the heartbeat in his ear.  The hall seemed to drag on for miles, as if she was trying to make him walk as far as he possibly could to see how far he would go to see him.  He checked his watch as the guard unlocked the door he presumed she was behind, watching it barely hit 8:00 before he walked in. 

“Spencie!” 

Her voice was much too cheerful for what she was about to endure in four hours.  He half expected her to be wallowing, feeling bad for herself, or to try and start a riot to put it off even more.  

He realized she was really ready to die. 

She could tell, simply by his demeanor, he was ready as well. 

“Hello, Cat,” he said, walking further into the room as the guard pulled the door shut and locked it behind him.  He set the bag of food down on the table in front of her, though she paid no mind to it.  Her focus was primarily on him.  It made his stomach wrench. 

“Italian, my favorite!” she exclaimed, her gaze still on him as she pulled the plastic apart, grabbing the two to-go boxes before setting them on the metal table, each in front of one of the rusting metal chairs. 

“Have a seat.  You look like you’ve had a long day,” she coaxed with her infamous mischievous smile, opening her box before grabbing one of the small packages of silverware the restaurant had added in. 

He sat across from her, his hands folded neatly in his lap as she began to dig into the food, keeping up an act as if she was trying to be on her best behavior.  It didn’t last long. 

“Come on!  Eat!  You couldn’t have gotten all of this food just for me,” she said with a grin, twirling a bit of spaghetti around her fork as she spoke to him.  He silently opened his food and did the same, taking a bite of his dinner while keeping his eyes on her. 

“Aren’t you going to ask me why you’re here?” she pressed.  He imagined her waiting a little longer before beginning to taunt him.  He couldn’t blame her, though - she did only have four hours left to torture him as much as she could. 

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” he said simply and emotionlessly, twisting the spaghetti around his fork.  He wanted to do his best to give her as little attention as possible, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for that long. 

She hummed a little bit at his answer, almost unsatisfied with it.  She almost didn’t respond to him, wanting him to actually ask her, but she knew she didn’t have that kind of time.  They both knew she didn’t. 

“I wanted you to make up for our last date.  It wasn’t exactly a girl’s dream evening, you know,” she quipped, trying to get a rise out of him, trying to get him to break his little charade and try to humor her.  She was going to be dead in three and a half hours, and then he could forget about her for the rest of his life.  He could be happy and not even remember her name.  But all she wanted was tonight. 

He held back from rolling his eyes at her answer, crossing his ankles under his seat as he continued to eat his meal quietly.  He wanted to hear everything she said, and he knew the only way was to lure it out of her with his silence.  The one thing she could hardly bear.  Of course, it worked.  A few quiet minutes passed as she ate, her eyes shifting over every inch of her date’s face, trying to profile him the way he had done to her since the first time they spoke. 

“Although, you really did surprise me with that kiss.  Did you ever kiss Maxine like that?” she questioned, grinning as she noticed his grip tightening on the plastic utensil.  It was the most she’d gotten out of him all evening. 

“Do you really care about how I am with her?  I thought tonight was all about you?” he asked, taking another bite of his food as he watched, waited for her next move.  

Talking with Cat Adams was like a game of chess - strategic, long, and a big waiting game.  It was her move, yet he was already four moves ahead, thinking of what he could do next to stay ahead of her. 

“Yes… no,” she said, rolling her eyes a bit as she slumped back in her seat.  She folded her arms across her chest, pushing the food away as she looked at him.  “At least you have the right idea.  It is all about me, so why don’t you act like it is?  You can make up for last time and then drop me off at home at the execution table.”  

He watched her body language, relaxing in the small room they had to themselves.  She noticed, leaning forward again so her elbows rested on the table.  “Come on, Spencie.  Just act like you’re on a date with her.”

He paused for a moment, doing his best to remain stoic as he watched her move.  Almost too slowly, like she was drawing each and every second out as if it would give her more time with him. 

He cleared his throat before closing his box and tossing it in the flimsy bag he had brought it in.  “How are you, Cat?”  She found the question rather humorous, considering she knew he’d probably been keeping tabs on her and her behavior since she had told him she was going to be put to death.  

“You can do better than that, Spencer,” she pressed on, her dark gaze flicking from his lips back up to his hazel eyes.  Once she realized he wasn’t moving on without her answer, she let out a soft huff.  “I’m doing great.  I’m dying in…” she grabbed his wrist and slipped his watch off, checking the time before looking back up at him.  “Three hours.  You wasted one hour trying to profile me, when you could’ve made it worth my while,”  she reminded him, wrapping the watch around her much smaller wrist. 

“What did you want me to talk about?” he asked, leaning back in his chair again, his hands laced together in his lap as he waited for her response. 

“Me, of course!” she said, throwing her hands up to bring more attention to herself, like the bright orange jumpsuit didn’t already have her sticking out like a sore thumb.  “Ask me about the baby, ask me why I wanted to have the lethal injection, talk about me.  I know you haven’t been able to get me out of that pretty little brain of yours.”

“I don’t think about you.  Quite honestly, I haven’t thought about you since our last date,” he lied to her, knowing she wouldn’t pick up on it as easily as he would be able to. 

He thought about her at least once a week.  He thought about her whenever he called his mother to talk about how she was doing.  He thought about her whenever Max kissed him last month when he got back from a case.  He thought about her when he bought a new watch, not wanting to wear something so plagued with her touch around every day.  He hated that she had become so prominent in his life, wanting nothing more to forget about her.  He pushed her to the back of his mind, but her maniacal grin always found his way back into his thoughts.  He would never say it aloud, but he couldn’t have been more relieved when he found out she was going to be executed.  He hoped it would bring him peace, finally getting some sort of justice for himself after all she had put him through. 

She gave him a playful frown.  She knew it wasn’t true, but she’d rather not waste her last hours arguing with him over what he would never admit.  She knew he would stand by that statement until midnight, as they plunged the lethal needle into her veins. 

“Why did you really want to see me, Cat?” he asked her just as she had opened his mouth.  Her lips broke into a smile, standing up from her seat before walking over to him, standing beside him and hoisting herself onto the metal table.  

“Do you really want to know the truth?”

“Did you hurt anyone this time?”

She smiled down at him, flattered he would think that of her.  She wanted to lie to him, make his blood pulse against every inch of his veins out of anger, but she knew it wouldn’t do either of them any good. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.  And I knew since you’d be here anyway to watch me die, I figured you could try to make me feel better about not ever being able to see you again,” she told him.  She truthfully didn’t have some big elaborate scheme planned out.  She thought about it, of course.  She even planned out a few ideas.  But somewhere deep in her gut, she wanted to have a good memory with him.  One where all of his focus was on her, not someone else he cared far more about. 

His eyes watched her check the time again, and she let out a hum.  9:17.   She’d been counting down the minutes all day.  She probably didn’t need to check the watch.  She did it for him.  She did it to remind him how little time she had left.  She hoped it would make him feel bad for putting her here, for having her next up on the execution block.  And it almost worked. 

“How do you expect me to make you feel better?  What do you want me to do?” he asked.  His mouth was pressed into a flat line, his eyebrows raised as he waited for a response.  She pretended to think for a moment as if she hadn’t planned out how the evening would go down to the last move she would make on him before he sat in an audience for her final performance. 

“Take me out on a walk.  In the yard.  The stars will be out, right?”  she asked, raising an eyebrow at him.  He nodded at her question, looking back to the window where a guard was more than likely watching over their every move.  The door unlocked and was pushed open, and Spencer stood up, holding out a hand for her.  He would play into every last move she set up for him at this point, mentally picturing his girlfriend to make everything easier.  

She laced her hand with his quickly, following behind him like a little school girl following her crush around the playground.  He only looked ahead as the guard led him down the hall again, two big red doors awaiting them at the end.  He felt her eyes burning into him, the bright flash of her white teeth catching on the light out of the corner of his eye.  She was enjoying herself, much more than she was supposed to be. 

“Did you really never think about me?” she asked as the guard pushed the door open, a gust of cold air washing over the two of them.  He looked around for a moment, looking up at the clear sky before his gaze landed down on her.  She looked at him, silently pleading for an answer. 

“Not until you sent me your letter,” he answered coldly, walking towards the benches that were scattered around the spacious area.  He sat down in the center, and she sat beside him.  Her eyes never left him, even when he was barely a shadow before the motion sensored lights kicked in and lit the area up like Times Square. 

“Why not?” she asked, her voice carrying the same tone as a pouting child.  He realized long ago that she might as well be a child, considering she always wanted it to be about her and she would do anything to keep it on her.  Which was why he was out in the cold 53° weather, with the last person he wanted to be with on October 26th. 

“Why, Spencer?” she pressed agitatedly, just wanting an answer out of him.  She knew it would be an answer she wouldn’t want, one that she’d be better off if she never heard what he had to say.  He didn’t have to worry about her feelings anymore, since she wouldn’t remember anything he ever said to her in two and a half hours.  

“Honestly? I can’t stand the thought of you.  I can’t help but think about every bad thing you’ve done, every victim you took, every person you put through hell just to get back at a man whose face you probably wouldn’t be able to pick out in a lineup.  You hurt people close to me just to see me, so pardon me for not exactly being thrilled about the idea of you.”

And, for the first time in her shortened life, Catherine Adams didn’t know what to say.

His words stung in her chest, like he reached into her and squeezed her heart until it couldn’t beat anymore.  But, she wasn’t capable of being hurt.  His words rang in her head that he always told her - “You’re incapable of having the same emotions as me.”  She never believed him when he said that to her, but that didn’t keep them out of her head.  It was one of the many things she could never stop thinking about, along with the way he looked when he met her for the first time and the way he kissed her outside his apartment a year ago.  

She stared up at him blankly, hiding any emotions she allegedly didn’t have as she watched him.  He never looked down at her when he spoke.  He stared straight ahead at the brick wall in front of him, and she figured he was counting each and every brick so he could ignore her. 

She laid her head on his shoulder as he stayed silent, not knowing what to say to him.  Nothing she could say would change the way he felt about her, and she figured it would be a waste of breath to try and convince him otherwise.  

She sat with him for an hour in silence, a single tear falling from her eyes, but she wiped it away before he could notice.  She was a psychopath.  She couldn’t have emotions.  He’d accuse her of faking it for sympathy, and the last thing she really wanted right now was to be lectured by Dr. Spencer Reid. 

He had noticed it, his focus turning to her the moment he noticed she was no longer paying attention to him.  He noted the way her breathing would speed up every few moments, and he couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were running through her mind.  He wanted to know if she actually was ready for her fate, if she wanted everything to finally be over for her.  He wanted to know if she felt like she had done everything she wanted to, if she had a bucket list she was or wasn’t able to complete.  

He couldn’t find the words to ever ask her. 

“Spencer?”

“What?”

“Tell me about the stars.” 

He looked down at her, not noticing he had become lost in his own thoughts.  She was looking up at the sky now, her arm looped around his as she remained as close to him as he possibly could.  Her body was pressed to his, as if she was trying to stay behind with him.  He thought it was the least he could do, before looking up the clear night sky once again. 

For about half an hour, as the air chilled around them minute by minute, he told her about the constellations that they could see.  He talked about how the Zodiacs came to be pillars of Astrology and where superstitions about each star sign came from.  He told her anything he could remember about everything above them, until the guard came up to them. 

“They need her back inside, Dr. Reid,” he informed him.  Spencer looked down at Cat again, her gaze dropping from the spheres of gas millions of miles away to the man beside her.  She took in his features for the last time, committing every freckle, every eyelash, every wispy curl to memory before she stood up.  The guard placed the handcuffs around her wrists and tightened them, leading the two back into the prison and towards the back of the building, towards the execution chamber.  

The walk was long and silent.  Cat’s gaze focused on the end of the long hallway, staring straight ahead.  Spencer’s eyes locked on the three pairs of shoes that shuffled down the quiet hall, chewing on his tongue as he thought of the last thing he would say to her.  He thought about why he cared so much about it.  He wondered if she’d care if he even said anything to her. 

They had reached the chamber in a matter of minutes, stopping outside the door as Cat looked up at him.  The guard took off her handcuffs, letting her have a few more minutes of freedom before everything was taken from her.  Spencer could tell from the look in his eyes that this night wouldn’t leave his memory for a while. 

Cat slid the watch off of her wrist, taking his hand in hers before sliding it back to its rightful place.  Both of them stared down at the time. 11:52.  She had eight minutes left.  Eight minutes left of breath, eight minutes left of life. 

Eight minutes left of him. 

She looked up at him after watching the small arms on the watch tick around the circle, and his eyes followed her.  She gave him a soft smile.  It was genuine.  It physically hurt him to see it. 

“Did you mean it?” She asked him in a quiet voice.  She didn’t sound like herself.  If he thought she was capable, he would think she was scared.  He never answered her question.  He hated to lie, but he didn’t want to make her last moments any worse than they already were.  She simply nodded, looking down at her feet before back up at him.  

“Thank you.  For today,”  she admitted to him.  He treated her with the same amount of respect as he would have given a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, but it had been the best memory she held with him.  She leaned up on the tips of her toes and swayed closer to him, pressing her lips to his scruffed cheek before returning to her normal height.  She stared at him for another moment before the door opened, and they were faced with the warden. 

“They’re ready for you, Miss Adams.”

The guard ushered her into the room slowly, and she stole one last glance before the heavy metal door closed behind her.  He let out a heavy breath he had held since he walked into the first room, looking up into the fluorescent lights for a moment.  This was the moment he’d been waiting for for five years, one he practically prayed to come quicker.  

He made his way around to the viewing area, noticing some of the family members of her victims - wives, parents, children.  People who have waited for justice longer than he had.  People who he helped grieve.  He weaved his way around the seats and towards the front, taking a seat at the center. 

He watched as they strapped her to a chair in the center of the room just on the other side of the glass, holding her in her place.  She almost looked as if she was at peace as they inserted the needle into the vein of her right arm, her head resting against the back of the chair as her eyes searched for something in the room across from her.  Once she had found what she was looking for, she let out a sigh, her eyes locking with Spencer’s for the last time. 

“Do you have any last words?” the warden asked, making his way to the large set up that displayed the chemicals that were soon to find home inside the girl strapped to the chair.  She simply swallowed and nodded, her hand gripping on the edge of the chairs arm as she watched Spencer. 

“I’m sorry,” she managed out after a moment.  He watched as her eyes welled with tears and she unapologetically let them fall on her round cheeks.  Right before the warden pressed the button that would send her to her final fate, she blurted out one last thing. 

“I really did love you, Spencie.”

His eyes didn’t leave her once she admitted her deathbed confession, but he could tell that her fate had officially been sealed.  He watched as her face slowly relaxed, her body slumped into the chair as any life she had drained from her eyes.  The recorder announced her time of death to be 12:02 AM, October 27th.  He let out a shaky breath as the blinds lowered, separating him and the families from her.  He heard quiet sobs let out around him, the families finally having a storm cloud that had been hovering them for years clear away.  One person, a father of one of her victims, he presumed, slowly clapped.  Everyone began filtering out of his room, but he didn’t move.  He couldn’t. 

He was escorted out by the warden at 12:15.  They walked quietly down the barren halls to the front of the building, Spencer’s hands digging into his pockets.  He thanked the warden for making a few exceptions, promising that he owed him before he made his way to his car.  He unlocked it and sat in the driver’s seat, but didn’t put the key in the ignition.  

He tugged on his tie roughly until the loop was wide enough to pull it over his head, throwing it into the passenger's seat with his leather messenger bag and his gun holster.  He held onto the steering wheel tightly as he rested his head against the steering wheel, taking long, deep breaths as he ran through the events of the evening once again.  

But her last words rang in his ears like a gunshot.  

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Emily’s number after a few minutes, hoping she would still be awake as the phone rang twice. 

“Spencer?  Is everything alright?” she asked, her tone laced with worry.  Her voice instantly helped release the tension that had built up over the past few hours, rubbing at his eyes tiredly with his large hand before leaning back in his seat.

“I think I need to take a sick day.”  He swallowed thickly again as he looked at the prison sign, his head falling  back against the headrest as he waited for her to respond.  She was silent for a minute, trying to pick up on his breathing and assess what was going through his head.  Of course she knew what this evening was, but she never got to talk to him about it before he left.  She didn’t really know what he was like going into the situation, which didn’t help her figure out how he was leaving it. 

“Of course, whatever you need,” she reassured him.  He let out a quiet sigh, nodding as he let his eyes close for a moment. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He let his eyes slowly open, looking to the center console between the two front seats, where her letter was opened and on display for him to reread quickly. 

“Her last words were that she loved me, Emily.”

It was dead silent on the other line.  He couldn’t even hear her breathing.  He pulled the phone from his ear for a moment just to make sure he hadn’t lost their connection before pressing it back to the spot it was before. 

“She was trying to get under your skin, Spencer.  You know that she was-”

“Incapable of emotions.  I know,” he cut her off, the heel of his hand digging into his eye as if it would clear everything up for him, explain why she said what she said, why she did what she did. 

“Go home.  Get some sleep.  We’ll all come visit you after work tomorrow.  Saturday, we’re all going to Rossi’s.  He wanted to host your birthday this year,” Emily told him.  He nodded again, practically forgetting what this weekend had even held for him and his friends.

“Alright.”

“Spencer?”

“Yes?”

“It’s all over.  You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” she reminded him.  Her voice of reason comforted him, wiping at his eyes with the sleeves of his button-up once he felt hot tears falling over his cheeks. 

“Thank you. Goodnight, Emily.”  He hung up the phone as soon as he pulled it away from his cheek, putting the keys in the ignition finally.  He listened to the engine roar to life before putting the car in reverse, pulling out of the parking lot before turning the car to the road, and finally heading home for the night. 

He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.  He couldn’t be bothered to show her at least a little more kindness on her last living day.  He treated her the way he wished he could have after she took his mother, after she took Max’s family.  He didn’t even treat her as poorly as she had treated everyone else, yet he felt bad.  He felt bad because he wasn’t the same as her, he tried to tell himself.  He repeated it to himself on the long, quiet ride back to his apartment. 

I’m not like her. 

I’m not like her.

I’m not like her.

When he had pulled up to his apartment complex at 1:23 AM, parking the car in the spot he always parked in, turning off the ignition before gathering his things and heading into the towering building.  His feet trudged up the stairs as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb any of his neighbors at the ungodly hour.  

He unlocked this door before walking inside, hanging the keys on the hook once he closed the door.  He dropped everything down on his large leather couch, his body carrying him over to his bedroom.  He was too drained to even take off his tight slacks and the button-up that hugged his chest, crawling underneath the heavy duvet and resting his head against the feather pillows.  

He slowly let his eyes close in the comfortable darkness, falling into a deep sleep he felt he earned after the day he had.  But for at least a few more moments, before his body finally had been drained of every last drop of energy left in him, one thought kept his brain turning over and over.

If he hated the thought of her so much, why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Night at the Museum | Adam Milligan x Reader

Prompt: Family

Fandom: Supernatural

Words: 2230

A/N: Wasn’t feeling well for a few days (still don’t but oh well), so here’s yesterday’s story prompt. This is a continuation of [True Winchester Fashion]. I’ll have today’s prompt up later.

-

The cases were getting more confusing with each passing day. One incident looked clearly to be the work of a vampire, the next is a witch, and another a werewolf. All in one town in the span of two weeks. Sam and Dean gathered in Adam’s apartment, their things scattered on the medium sized Ikea dining table.

Adam had been checking up on you every now and again, and you appreciated it, which was why he was the first person you thought of when something bad happened again. You had been working in the museum after hours when you heard noises coming from one of the exhibits under construction.

“Larry?” you called out to one of the security guards in the walkie talkie.

“Everything alright, (Y/n/n)?” Larry asked.

“Yeah, just thought I heard something from the west wing.”

“I’ll check with surveillance and have someone stick with you until you go home if you want.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“No problem.”

You went back to finish sorting through the bookstacks, a small hand radio softly playing nineties music on one of the desks.Twenty minutes later, you were finished with one large stack and deciding to call it a night. You checked your phone and realized how late it got. Looking sound, you had assumed that one of the security guards were guarding the library entrance, but no one was there.

“Larry?” you said through the walkie talkie. You waited, hearing nothing but static. “Larry? Bill?”

You grabbed your things, stuffing a thick and old leather bound book in your bag, and clutched the walkie talkie close to you as you closed up. With every sound or movement you thought you saw in the corner of your eye, you would try to contact the security guards again.

Whenever you had seen these types of situations on screen, you always thought of how foolish that person was for being in a building after hours, alone at night. But, you had always felt safe in the museum. The staff was friendly and the security guards were caring and protective. The fact that none of them were answering was worrying. You thought back to the night that your friend died, your heart racing in your chest as you try to make one last call out before leaving.

“Larry?” you tried again as you made your way towards the exits.

You waited. Static. Then tried again. There was an echo of your voice from a walkie talkie nearby. You turned, but saw no one. You squeezed the walkie talkie, pressing the button one more time without saying anything. You heard the noise again, looking around the dimly lit room and spotted the walkie talkie lying on the ground next to a pool of dark liquid.

You forgot to breathe as you rushed out of the building, your back feeling vulnerable as you jogged to your car. Your hands shook as you tried to unlock the doors and climbed in, locking them again as soon as you sat down, then started the engines.

This was a small town, so you had always tried to stay out of trouble or else the entire town would know about it. Meaning, not once had you gone above the speed limit, in fear that your parents’ friend and classmate gave you a ticket and then they would never stop bringing up the one ticket you ever had and how you disappointed them. This time, however, a ticket and frustrations was not as scary as the possibility of getting murdered.

Once you were locked away in your apartment, you sat in your bathtub and called Adam.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asked.

You let out a long breath, wanting to steady your heartbeat. “I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know why this is happening,” you whimpered, “I didn’t know what to do, I just… i needed to talk to someone to calm down.”

“Okay, we can do that. Do you wanna talk about what happened?”

A hot tear rolled down your cheek as you tried to make sense of the past events. “I think… I think something happened to the security guards at the museum. I panicked. I didn’t get a good look, but I just wanted to get out of there as soon as I could. Am I being silly?”

“No, of course not,” Adam assured you, “Listen, I’m in contact with those feds that came by that night at the bar. I’ll go speak to them and see that they can look into it, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Adam. I’m sorry for bothering you-”

“You’re not bothering me. I want you to be safe.”

“Okay,” you said softly. “I, uh, I’m gonna call a coworker and see if she can notify the police of what happened. Can you… can you come over?”

“Yeah, sure. Just text me your address.”

Adam hung up, clenching his jaw as he pictured you at home, too afraid to even go outside after what’s been going on around town. You didn’t deserve to deal with all of this. Whoever or whatever is killing people will have to face the Winchesters for what they’ve done. 

He walked out to the living room and slumped down in a chair next to his brothers. Sam noticed his tired expression, wordlessly passing a can of beer to him. Adam nodded in thanks, popping it open and taking a swig.

“What’s up?” Dean said, looking up from his laptop screen.

“Something’s going on at the museum and I want to go and check it out,” Adam said.

“What, like a Night at the Museum thing or like a new contemporary modern art exhibit with canvases that just have random splashes of paint worth thousands of dollars kind of thing?”

Adam frowned, thinking back to cases in the past few weeks and how they were connected. You were always nearby when they happened. He stood up and grabbed his jacket and car keys.

“I don’t know. The police are heading over there right now. I’m gonna go and check on (Y/n).”

“Right. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Dean teased.

“So do everything except eating healthy?”

Adam shut the door behind him before Dean could retort. The oldest brother shook his head. 

“What an asshole. Where the hell does he get it from?”

Sam gave him a pointed look, then turned his attention back to his research as he cleared his throat.

-

Sam and Dean had arrived at the museum, flashing their badges and speaking with the sheriff. They had found one surviving security guard who was knocked unconscious while the rest who were on duty had been killed.

“Anyone else was here during that time?” Dean asked the museum’s director.

She shrugged. “Usually some curators, conservators, and one or two archivists. Everyone’s been working hard to get the new exhibit up and running, which is why we usually have more than one security guard on duty.”

“Exhibit?”

The director’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes. We’re doing something fun this year and diving into myths, legends, and magic. These stories have contributed to our history and we’ve wanted to do something different. We even had a few donors who’ve had records and items from the Salem witch trials-”

Sam and Dean exchanged a knowing look. “When did these donors come in?” Sam asked.

She tapped her chin and hummed. “About two weeks ago? Oh, dear. You don’t think someone would kill for these items, do you?”

Sam offered her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure out who did this. In the meantime, I suggest postponing the exhibit.”

“Of course, of course.”

“Mind if we check the exhibit? You know, just to make sure nothing was stolen.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Follow me.”

The director led them to the back where they stored the items and displays, leaving them for a moment to retrieve the inventory list. Her heels echoed through the spacious warehouse until she reached the back. She frowned at the list, going back and forth between the opened crates.

“Oh, dear, there’s something missing,” she muttered, “Oh, I see. It must have been one of the historians or the archivists. Usually they’d make a note of it, though. They know not to leave the building with any of the items here.”

Dean asked for the list, which she readily handed over. She pointed at the missing item, a thick leather bound book with a metal lock on it. He flipped through the pages, looking for a picture of the book before handing it back.

“Are there cameras in the warehouse?”

-

Adam pulled up in front of your building, double checking the address and apartment number. He climbed out and immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“Be careful,” Michael said to him, “There’s something here. Get to your friend quickly.”

“Why do you think they’re all after (Y/n)?” Adam asked, speed walking towards the steps.

Michael paused for a moment. “There must be something they’re not telling us.”

Adam knocked on your door and waited a beat. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door followed by two locks clicking open. You poked your head through the door, opening it wider when you saw that it was Adam. He walked in, watching as you relocked the door and made your way towards the couch.

You slumped against the arm rest, burying your face in your hands. “This is all my fault,” you mumbled.

“What do you mean?” He slowly sat next to you, eyes scanning the room before looking back at you.

“I knew better than to take the book, but… I don’t know what I was thinking. It was almost like it was telling me to take it. Because of me, Rachel is dead. And so is Larry and Billy.” You rubbed your face hard, tears falling out before you could do anything about it.

“(Y/n)), start from the beginning. What book?”

You got up on shaky legs to retrieve your bag from your room. Reaching over to your desk, a bang from the window startled you. A shriek escaped your lips, heart threatening to follow after. Adam rushed over, wrapping a protective arm around you. He narrowed his eyes at the window but saw nothing. He led you back to the couch where you handed him your bag.

He unzipped the bag and pulled out a heavy leather bound book with a padlock holding it closed. In closer inspection, the leather material may not be leather at all, just that it was dyed and weathered to look like it. With one quick look, Adam could easily identify it as some kind of grimoire.

“Where did you get this?” Adam asked.

“The museum,” you said, wrapping your arms around your knees as you curled up again, “The director needed someone who spoke Latin to help translate some of the pages. The historian that usually does it is away, so that left me, though I can’t translate quite as well as the historian, the director insisted that I translate it as soon as possible… Now that I think about it, it seems all ridiculous. I don’t know why I listened.” You shook your head. “I guess I was too scared of losing my job, but I didn’t really realize until I translated the first few pages how dangerous it was.”

“What does it do?”

“I didn’t think that it was real! I just thought… I didn’t know…”

“(Y/n),” Adam said more gently.

You took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. “It… apparently it has a spell that draws in all creatures within the vicinity, as if it was a beacon. It sounds crazy-”

“(Y/n), trust me. This is not crazy.” Adam inspected the book before putting it down on the coffee table. “Those feds that you met at the bar a couple of nights ago?”

You nodded.

“Well, they’re my brothers…. And they’re not feds. They…. My family comes from a line of hunters,” Adam began to explain.

“Hunters are quite different from brewery owners,” you muttered, trying to lift your mood up.

Adam chuckled. “Yeah, they hunt everything that goes bump in the night and then some. They’re the best at what they do and they’re looking into what’s been happening around town. They can help you with the book, (Y/n).”

You huffed out a laugh and shook your head at the situation you brought yourself into. “That’s great, but is there anything else that you failed to tell me?”

Adam looked down and smiled. “The, uh, the notes from micro lab? I didn’t need them. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“Adam, if you’re lying to make me feel better about endangering the entire town-”

“I’m serious!”

There was another thud at the window closest to the living room. You jumped, your eyes immediately landing on that cursed book lying among your stained coasters, ripped envelopes and spare rubber bands. The cursed book that started all of this. It shook with each thud that hit the window, a tall dark shadowy figure standing on the other side of the curtained window. You covered your ears as Adam stood, quickly texting Sam and Dean to hurry over.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n). I won’t let anything happen to you.”

[ofieugogyshz]

Fic;; Memories: Riolu III

Word Count: 4900

Warnings: None

Summary: Slowly accepting that maybe she might be having difficulties with Riolu, Sarah accepts that Lance was right, and that she might want to get in contact with someone like the Sinnoh Champion Cynthia in order to figure out what was wrong, and how to fix it. 

Notes: This fic was published as Lucario II, but I changed it to Riolu III to better suit the focus of the naming convention.

Read First | Second | Third

(Alternatively, Series Masterpost)

-----------

It was difficult, trying to train Riolu. What started out as an instant bond felt like it was tapering away. Trying to bond with him the traditional way wasn't working, either. It was getting harder and harder to understand him, his battle style, his personality, and I could tell that he was getting frustrated too.

Maybe Lance was right. Training a Riolu was going to be difficult because I wasn't open or honest about my emotions. And, honestly, I didn't want to be. Maybe it would have been more accurate to say that I didn't want to feel those emotions, much less share or admit them. I always tried to hide them, except when I was angry or hurt. Then I wanted everyone to know it. But then I'd try to hide it again, because that's what was right, was socially expected. And it just made it harder to figure out how I was supposed to respond to something. Everything just felt like a spiral, and it was on several occasions that Riolu commented on how confusing and chaotic it made reading my aura, until I couldn't understand his thoughts anymore.

And admitting that I needed help? That was hard. Difficult. But, if it was the Sinnoh Champion, then maybe I could challenge her to a battle as well, ask to train with her a bit...? I could use that as a lean in, and casually bring up Riolu, and see what she'd say.

I asked around. Some people told me that she was partial to ruins and mythology, suggesting that I might want to try Celestic Town, Solaceon Ruins, or the Library in Canalave City. Although Canalave City was where my next Gym Badge was located, I decided to go north. I battled against several trainers along the routes there, becoming more discouraged when my connection with Riolu felt more and more out of sync.

No one said they had spotted her around Solaceon Town or the Ruins, so I pressed on north. I decided to take a break at the Cafe Cabin. I stepped inside, greeted by the employees. Pika and Riolu walked in beside me. My Pikachu was used to this sort of thing, but I had forgotten that Riolu, only a few months old, hadn't yet been inside a battle cafe. I took a seat at a booth, while Riolu followed behind slowly, eyes wandering as it took in the busy atmosphere.

“Can we get you anything?” asked a waitress. “A battle? Food? Or just drinks?”

“Just drinks for now,” I said. “Pinap juice for Pika, Pomeg-Watmel smoothie for me, and...” I looked at Riolu, who was sitting across from me. It was standing up on the seat, looking over its edge at all the trainers and their Pokemon in the cafe. It was rather busy, so there was a lot for it to take in. I felt a tinge of worry that it might be overwhelming for it, but it kept staring in awe.

“Ri....”

“Um. I think a Moomoo Milk for my Riolu?”

The waitress nodded, hastily scribbling down the order before leaving.

I sighed. Part of me wanted to believe that maybe there was a quick fix-all for being able to bond with Riolu better, so I could understand him better, but I knew that that wasn't going to be the case. Still... Riolu looked around, and I followed its gaze wherever it went. A trainer with a Machamp, another with a Glameow, one with a Meditite, and so on. More Pokemon in one spot than it had seen yet. His eyes wandered until he saw something towards the corner. I watched as it continued to stare in awe, and followed its gaze. My eyes widened.

“Isn't that...”

I thought back to Eterna City. I had met someone that looked just like her. Long blonde hair, a long black coat over black pants, with quiet serenity. I had come to look at the statue on the far side of that town, and found her there, reading the inscription with an intense focus that was more than touristy.

What did she say her name was...? I flipped through the e-mails on my phone, trying to see if I had mentioned her in any that I had sent to my friends, whenever I was updating them about my adventure. Any posts I may have made on social media. Anything that might have mentioned the person I met back then.

“Today I met a trainer in Eterna City. She was beautiful! I wish I could be as pretty as her... Oh, but! More importantly! She was looking at the statue there too! She explained to me that it was part of Sinnoh mythology. I introduced myself to her, and told her alllll about my victories in the last three regions I been in! She said I was cute, and reminded her a little of herself when she started her journey.(I'm not cute, but whatever.) Then, I showed her my Pokedex. We had a lot of fun. I forgot to ask for her contact info... But she told me that her name was Cynthia, and that I'll probably see her around again!”

Ah. There it was--

“Wait...” I said quietly, to no one in particular. “Is she... No way, it's gotta totally be a coincidence!!”

I quickly looked up online “Champion Cynthia”, her photo coming up online as she held a trophy, the proclamation “Cynthia Wins the Sinnoh Cup Again!” titling an article. It matched the person that Riolu was staring at, with much focus.

“Nononono...” I buried my face in my hands and suppressed an embarrassed whine. I totally made a fool of myself back then... Ugh. Why did I act like that? Now the local Champion thinks that I'm a total child and-- AAAAAAAAA!!! This is awful, totally awful, uggggghhhh!!! Now how'm I supposed to ask her for help with Riolu?!! I screamed inside my head out of embarrassment at my past self.

I took a breath, trying to see if I could cope with having my face visible. I cupped my hands around my face and pushed them back into my hair, fingers running between strands as I tried to recompose myself. Well, no, maybe she wouldn't notice me... Ah. But that doesn't help with the 'trying to find her' part, and ask for her help training. I could probably find other trainers with Lucario! I mean, there's Blaze! He's the one who got me Riolu, after all! Or that person that he said he got his egg from! What was his name... I... R-something? Guh. Crap. I don't wanna ask Blaze though, because then I'll have to let him know why, and I don't wanna let him know that I'm having trouble with Riolu!! My pride wouldn't've allowed it, and there I was, just stewing in my thoughts, not even aware that our waitress had arrived with our drinks.

“Pi! Pika!!” Pikachu had eagerly grabbed at hers as the waitress pushed it past me.

“Are you okay, miss?”

I looked up at her. She had a mildly concerned expression on her face.

“Ah, I-- I'm fine, I promise. Thanks for the drinks.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.”

She left. I was alone once more with my thoughts. Pika was happily drinking from her juice, slurping it up noisily. Across from me, Riolu was still watching Cynthia, unaware that it had a drink in front of it. I let out a long sigh, stirring my smoothie with my straw as I continued to watch its fixation on the region's beautiful Champion. I pushed the bottle of Moomoo Milk across the table, letting it make a loud noise in an attempt to distract the Riolu.

“Riolu, here! I got you some tasty milk to drink!”

<<...strong!>>

I blinked. Riolu turned around to me, an excited expression on his face.

<<...really strong! ….meet? >>

Maybe I was imagining it, or maybe that was how he really felt right now. It had been so long since I felt his voice, that I wondered if I was making it up, inserting my own understanding of how it felt. Riolu's tail wagged a little, hopeful that I might say yes to what it wanted.

“Uh... N-not right now, Riolu. C'mon, sit. We can go say hi after,” I said, half-lying. Riolu's tail stopped. He looked at me, uncertain; as uncertain as I was about if I was still interested in talking to Cynthia. Riolu plopped down, taking the Moomoo Milk and drinking, looking a little angry, upset with me. Maybe I might change my mind after we rest a bit, but for now...

When we were done, I paid for our order and left. The Champion wasn't anywhere in the cafe anymore, as far as I could tell, and I felt a little safe leaving now that she wasn't around. Riolu yipped loudly at my side, partially in excitement, partially in impatience. I didn't need to have a connection to know what he was wanting right then and there.

To meet Cynthia.

“No, we are NOT going to look for her right now, okay? Let's just keep heading north and see if we can't find her at--”

An angry thought burst into my mind.

<<But that WAS her!! I know it was!!! She had a Lucario!!!!!>>

Riolu had ran in front of me, cheeks puffed up and tail standing up straight as it glared at me. It felt like a stare-down. Beside me, Pika looked back and forth between the two of us, unsure of what was gonna happen. Riolu growled softly. Pika ran in front of it, trying to mediate between the two of us, waving her arms.

“Pika pi!! Pi pika, pikachu!”

The attempt only made Riolu growl more. It pushed her away, speeding towards me with a charge. Its head hit my chest, knocking me over. I couldn't hear what it said as it ran away. Pika started to give chase.

“Pika!!! Pikachu chu chu!!!”

I groaned, sitting up slowly. I let out quick hisses of pain as I propped myself up with my elbows. Pika yelled after Riolu. But instead of continuing her chase, she turned back around to check up on me when I sat up.

“Pi?!”

I groaned. Tears were in my eyes from the aching, stinging pain. I clutched at my body, trying to will myself not to cry more from it.

“Ow!!” Touching had made it hurt more. I could tell that a gnarly bruise was in store when the pain would subside.

“Pika!!!”

“It's okay, Pika. I'll--” I let out a hiss of pain, impatiently waiting for the pain to dull. “I'll be fine. But more importantly, do you know which way Riolu ran off?”

She ran over to the edge of a thicket of trees and pointed. “Chu!!”

I stumbled to my feet and set off after Riolu.

I didn't know what kind of Pokemon lived in these trees, and it worried me that something might have happened to him in here. Unfortunately, I didn't have too many Pokemon that could help me look, and the thicket was getting denser the more I went in. Pikachu was leading me on the ground, trying to follow Riolu's scent. I had to backtrack when she lost it, and when we were in a slightly wider trail, I let out my Crobat, Janet. I quickly explained to her that we were looking for Riolu.

“He ran off somewhere in here. Please help us find him!”

She let out a noise of agreement and zoomed off, hastily flying between trees until I couldn't see her anymore. Pika and I continued with our search on the ground.

I was getting more anxious with every step I took.

The path we followed opened up into a small clearing. It looked like a Pokemon battle happened there. Branches and leaves were scattered across the floor, with some of the thicker ones still having their leaves on them. The ground had been disturbed, with indentations from the fight. Several of the trees had claw marks on it. I felt my heartbeat quicken, worried that Riolu had gotten himself into trouble.

“RIOOOOLLUUUU!!!!” I shouted.

“PIIKAAAA!!!”

Our voices echoed slightly. The sound disrupted a handful of Starly in the trees. They flew away. I heard the sound of wings flapping towards us. It was Janet; she had returned to find us.

“You find anything?!” I asked her.

Janet nodded, making a noise that sounded like a 'whsk'. She kept making it as she flew around us, impatiently waiting for the command to go.

“Lead the way!”

-----

Riolu had ran out of the thicket. He wasn't afraid of the Pokemon that he had encountered, since he had won. The moves his Lucario father and his trainer had taught him were incredibly useful, more than he had realized under his current trainer. But, after all the battles he had done on the way here, that last one had made him tired. He had decided to head back, still mad about what had happened, but also apologetic about hurting his trainer. He hoped he didn't hurt her too badly. His steps quickened until he could see the growing light of the exit of the forest.

-

Cynthia had returned back to the cafe, carrying a small bag containing medicine for the Psyduck that had taken up residence along a major path by it. It was causing difficulties for the cafe to receive and distribute its product along the one side. The owner of Cafe Cabin had called her over, asking her to help take care of the issue. And what those Psyduck needed was the Secret Potion, a rural recipe capable of helping relieve even the recurrent headaches that Psyducks got.

Cynthia's Lucario was helping her distribute the medicine to the Psyduck that lined the road. He stopped suddenly, looking into the forest with sudden focus. That had gotten Cynthia's attention, and she turned, looking to where her Lucario did.

A small, black and blue Pokemon came out of the thicket. It rested against one of the trees, sighing. It lifted up its head, looking around, and came across the sight of Cynthia and her Lucario looking at it. Its eyes widened, and excitement overcame it. With renewed vigor, it ran over, letting out happy yips as it bounced around them.

“Hm? What's this?” Cynthia knelt down to brush some twigs and leaves out of its fur. “A Riolu?”

They're usually not common in this area, she thought to herself. But the mystery of where it came from wouldn't last for very long. A Crobat had come out of the woods, quick on the tail of the small Riolu. Cynthia and Lucario tensed, prepared to help protect the small Pokemon if Crobat proved aggressive.

The Crobat stopped a few yards away, calling out to the Riolu.

“Ri. Ri!” It ran out to greet the large purple bat. Crobat landed, folding its wings around the Riolu as it hugged the Pokemon.

“Well, that's interesting,” said Cynthia. Her and Lucario looked at each other and nodded. Lucario closed its eyes and held out its palms, allowing both its trainer and the two Pokemon before it to better understand one another with its aura powers.

“Crobat, were you looking for this Riolu?” It nodded. “Is your trainer nearby?” Crobat turned towards the trees, twitching an ear as it listened. There was the faint call of its trainer, shouting out for the Riolu, but it was far too distant for Lucario, much less Cynthia, to hear. It turned back around, letting go of Riolu as it flapped back into the air.

“Okay then, Crobat. Go and get your trainer, and I'll wait here with Riolu. I promise I won't go anywhere.”

Crobat looked at Cynthia, then to Lucario. Its eyes shifted back to Cynthia, who gave it a gentle smile. Normally, Crobat wouldn't have trusted anyone to take care of one of her trainer's Pokemon without her permission, but Lucario helped communicate what was in their hearts. These were good people. There wasn't an ounce of malice in their hearts. With some reluctance, Crobat turned towards the forest, flying back into it in order to grab its trainer.

“Now then, little Riolu. Do you care to tell me how you and your trainer got separated?”

-----

I ran out of the clearing, following Crobat's directions. She flew out into the clearing, circling low, and Pika followed her all the way out there. I rested a hand against a nearby tree, trying to catch my breath. I could hear a happy cry from Pika that let me know that she had found Riolu. I stood back up and hurried along, coming into sight of a trainer and several Pokemon, not including the line of Psyduck that was lying about neaby. I stopped when I recognized the black clothes and long, blonde hair.

Cynthia turned around to greet me.

“Hi there! You must be Riolu's trainer.”

I nodded, walking towards them once again.

“Thanks for finding him,” I said. I didn't know what else to say. I hadn't planned on this, and my mind was drawing up a blank, still stuck on the “find Riolu” plan, that the “Talk to Cynthia” plan hadn't yet intersected. As I got closer, her expression changed to one of curiosity, as she seemed to recognize me.

“Oh! You're the trainer I met back in Eterna City. Thank you for that day, by the way. You really helped me out.”

“E-eh!?” I felt my face flush, and held up my hands, shaking them in an criss-cross motion. “No no no, thank you, for. Um. Well, talking to me, I guess. And humoring me? I'm so sorry that I wasted your time though! I didn't know who you were, and I'm sure you're pretty busy as the Champion, and, oh! You said you were researching, so I'm so sorry that I interrupted your day that day!” I bowed my head, apologetic. My face was still flushed.

She laughed. It was an amused laugh, one that reminded me of Lance's.

“Don't worry about it!” Cynthia said. “Like I said, you really helped me out that day. I kept hitting a wall in my research, but spending some time with someone who wasn't from here, and sharing the myths with them really helped me get out of that rut. You won't believe how much it helps shifting your focus for just a moment.”

I lifted my head to look at her. Now that I knew who she was, she looked more beautiful than I first thought. A part of me became bitter. It was a small, envious feeling, and I could shush it away, but it hurt, just a little bit, to see her. A female Champion that was beautiful, well-respected, famous, and had amazing synchronicity with her Lucario. Speaking of...

I looked at Cynthia's Lucario. It didn't seem to mind having Riolu hop around it excitedly.

<<...look! ...Lucario!!!>>

“I'm sorry if Riolu was interfering with your training.”

“Oh, not at all! Actually--” She turned around, looking at the Psyduck that were lying in the middle of the road. “--We were trying to help these poor Psyduck. You said you were from Kanto, right? So you must know how hard it is for Psyduck with their chronic headaches.”

“Yeah. Misty mentioned that it made it difficult for her Golduck to focus on training when he was still a Psyduck. Is that why they're all lying about in the road like that?”

“Yes. I went to get them some medication, and when I started treating them, your little Riolu came up to us. I was having Lucario help me treat them, but he seems to be pre-occupied with your Riolu now. Why don't you help me instead?”

I nodded, taking a couple of the bottles from her. We began to treat the Psyduck. Some of them let out pro-longed quacks, dramatic cries of pain. Some only whimpered, until we administered the medicine. We worked from the outside in, meeting each other in the middle as the Psyducks we treated still lamented, rubbing their heads.

“Okay, that's the last one!” Cynthia said.

We waited.

“How long does it normally take for them to get better?” I asked.

“It shouldn't be too much longer.”

The first two Psyduck we treated suddenly bounced up. They looked at us with their vacant expressions, before suddenly tilting their heads in confusion.

“Psy?”

Several more followed. The cries of the loudest ones stopped, though a few of them kept crying until their buddies picked them up. They talked to them, and the Psyduck slowly pulled their hands from their heads, letting them fall against their feathery bodies. They looked at their companions with a vacation expression, before tilting their heads in confusion.

“Psy?”

The group was satisfied that all of them had been thoroughly treated, and they waddled off together. A few of them waved at Cynthia and I as they left, and we waved back. Both of us were happy that we had helped alleviate some of the pain that these Pokemon had, at least for now.

I looked down at the empty bottles I held in my arms.

“That's amazing! What is this?”

“It's a Secret Potion.”

“A secret potion?” I repeated. It was now my turn to tilt my head in confusion. “Why's it a secret?”

Cynthia laughed. “It's the ingredients! The recipe is a secret; only my grandmother knows how to make it. I went to visit her in Celestic Town before I came back here to treat them.”

“Aww. I wanna know how to make it!” I said, arms flailing.

“I can't tell you. My own grandmother hasn't told even me the recipe, and she brags to everyone about what a great trainer I am!” She laughed, and I pouted.

“Now, now. I'm sure there's plenty of chances for you to find something just as equally amazing. Oh, but that's right! I wanted to talk to you about your Riolu.”

I felt my face heat a little as I looked away in shame.

“Y-Yeah... That's, um, actually-- I came up this way because I was looking for you. Because we're having trouble staying on the same wave length.”

Cynthia looked at me, quirking an eyebrow. I continued.

“Y'see...” I explained to her about Riolu-- how long I've had him, where he came from, and that my friend who hatched him had named him after someone I liked. I vaguely talked about the embarrassment I got whenever Riolu was there for my phone calls with Lance. Except, I didn't tell her who, or that I had a crush on them, just that I was speaking with a friend. Cynthia nodded along thoughtfully, and when my cheeks heated up, there was a small, knowing smile. The way I stumbled through explaining more about it, the more my cheeks heated up, caused me to finally admit that it was someone I had a crush on.

“Mhmm.... Mhmm. I see. From what you've told me, and from what Riolu's told Lucario, it seems that your emotions are getting in the way of your connection.” I gave her a look of dismay, and she continued. “I'm sorry, but it's what seems to be the truth. The two of you need to be open and honest with each other, or else that connection will suffer. Riolu are very sensitive Pokemon. They can see auras as colored waves-- Oh, I feel like I've just told someone else this very same conversation.”

I felt a sudden jolt of fear and stood up straighter, afraid that she might connect the thread between the two.

“Ahahaha... well, I bet it's because people think you're the number one authority on this, huh? I bet all kinds of people from all over ask you about Riolus and Lucarios! ”

“You're not wrong about that...” Cynthia said. She sounded a little distracted, lost in thought. Silence fell between us for a moment, before she suddenly came back to the present. “Oh, I apologize. Sometimes I get a little lost in thought when I'm thinking about something. Where were we?”

“Uh. Outside the Cafe Cabin?” I said, a half-hearted joked. She smiled.

“Well, your emotional honesty and openness aside, you also need to make sure that your Pokemon know that you love them. It's that connection that will help them filter through any conflicting emotions that you might have.”

“But I do love Riolu, I really do!!”

Cynthia looked down at Riolu, who spoke to Lucario.

“Ri ri!”

“It doesn't seem that way to him.”

The weight of that feeling suddenly pressed down on my heart. I found myself angry, frustrated at myself. I turned towards my Riolu and knelt down. I held out my arms towards him.

“Riolu, I'm sorry. I'm really really sorry. I didn't know you felt that way about me. That you thought I felt that way, I mean. I don't want you to think that I hate you or dislike you, I really don't. But please, please please come back with me? We can try again, and I'll try my best to do better at listening, and-- um, well, I can't guarantee that my emotions will get any easier, but I'll promise to go over them with you, when, um, we have time? I promise I'll try to help you understand me.” I sighed. “It's just, that... I don't understand myself very well either. So I won't always have the answer about it.” I felt tears well up in my eyes and I closed them. It felt like that was going to cause a permanent block in my bond with Riolu, and that wasn't something that I wanted. But I didn't know how to get around it.

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I looked to see Cynthia, a sympathetic smile on her face. There was some semblance of understanding, some sort of feeling like that. I could sense that from her, but I couldn't quite understand how I knew that she did. It just didn't feel like something she knew in the present.

“It's okay. You don't need to understand yourself just yet. That's what your emotions are there for. They help you learn about yourself, and what you think of certain things. But your emotions aren't always going to be easy to understand, either. But you can ask Riolu to help you understand them, when you feel like you're uncertain of yourself. You just have to trust that Riolu will know what they mean.”

I felt my heart lurch in my chest. Her words were potent, important. Even I could tell that much at that moment. Things that I would save and keep in my heart for many years to come. I would come to rely on that wisdom that she gave me that day, even when over decade passed. But in that moment, as powerful as I knew they were, and as true as they were, I felt myself start to cry.

Riolu took a few steps forward. I could feel it's concern, its hesitation. It wanted to reach out, but he also felt just as upset as I did, mad at me for never... never calling him by his name?

“Now...” I could hear Cynthia's soft voice in my ear. “Why don't you try calling out to Riolu by name?”

I felt my face flush up at the same time that my pain waned. I was afraid. How many people name their Pokemon after their friends? After people they were in contact with? But I was more afraid of what Lance would think, if he knew, if he found out that my friend named Riolu after him. All because I had a crush on him. It was embarrassing.... And causing Riolu pain, too, to not be called by the name he was given. He was proud of his namesake. As he ought to be. But it was so... It was so difficult. I couldn't even say that name normally. How could I be expected to call out my Riolu's name, when it was named after my crush?

As my mind wavered between the two extremes, I could feel Riolu sense that struggle. He took a step back, withdrawing that connection from me. But I knew what was right. I knew that Cynthia was right. What was right for him, for both of us.

I took a deep breath. I gulped, before nodding, slowly.

“C-C'mere...... L...Lance.”

I could feel the surprise from Riolu. The shock, appreciation, happiness. He ran towards me and jumped into my arms. I hugged him tightly, crying into him. It would have been wrong to continue to call him by any name other than that one. Whispering over and over again, “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lance.”

Riolu—Lance, I mean, buried his head between my shoulder and neck. He nuzzled me, happy and relieved that I had gotten it-- That I had finally called him by his name.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Yeah, I Would Part 2/Final Peter Mills x reader

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

warnings: swearing, mention of corruption, slightly Erin bashing, canon compliant bombing/accident

You arrived at the diner, taking a deep breath. You spotted Peter working the grill and talking to a man who was sitting at the counter, the detective Peter had told you about presumably. “What’s up buttercup?”

“Not much hummingbird. Gumbo and a milkshake?”

“Please.”

“What kind?”

“Surprise me, I trust you.”

“Ha, good to know. Before I get started on that, this is Antonio Dawson, the detective. He’s good, you can trust him, okay? I’ll be back with your food in a sec okay?” He kissed your hair, gave you an encouraging dimpled smile, and then left you with Dawson. “Hi, it’s good to meet you. So you’re the guy investigating my dad?”

“Yes, Ms. Voight and I-”

“It’s Y/L/N, actually. I took my mom’s name when I turned eighteen.”

“Alright, Ms. Y/L/N, I don’t know exactly what Mills told you, but I have been investigating your dad and I need to talk to you about that, and you can’t tell him.”

“My dad is corrupt. Dirty. There’s not enough time in the day to talk about it. But still, I was raised by a cop and a social studies teacher, so one thing I learned very early on in life is that evidence is key. So, here,” you handed him a Hello Kitty flashdrive that you’d kept in your bra, he took it very gingerly, clearly uncomfortable with where it was placed, “I started collecting evidence on my dad once I figured out what he was doing. And every piece of it is on that drive. It’s not the original, and I have multiple other spares, but there’s years of photo and video evidence as well as scanned copies of documents and written statements from me on there. If you need stuff in hard copy I can give it to you before the trial, if it even gets there, because I want to make sure this sticks.”

“Okay, thank you for your time. I’ll leave you with your food. Here’s my card, I’ll be in contact.”

“Of course, have a good night.”

“Here you go, let’s move to this booth over here.” Peter unloaded a tray of Gumbo and milkshakes onto the table on the booth behind you. “You ready to dig in?”

“Oh absolutely.” He held off on asking until you’d gotten a few bites of food and slurps of milkshake in because he knew you got drained just thinking about your family. “How’d it go?”

“Good. At least I think it went well.”

“And how’s the food.”

“Incredible, but it always is.”

“Only the best for you hummingbird.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A few days later you walked behind Mills over to the rest of 51. You were a bit skeptical, you didn’t think that a picnic was cause for wearing celebratory blues, but hey, you weren’t a firefighter. You were, however, proven right when you walked over to a picnic table with about six guys laughing their asses off. “I can’t believe you actually did it candidate!” 

“You look ridiculous!”

“Really? Cause I don’t think so.” The men you’d had yet to be introduced to watched as you pulled your boyfriend down into a full-on liplock. You bit your lip as Peter coughed, a little dazed, and you marvelled that you had that effect on him. “Uh, well, hi. I uh. My name is Brian Zvonecek but everyone calls me Otis. And who are you, exactly?”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, Peter’s girlfriend.”

“Peter did not tell you about us, we would remember if he had- uh, Joe Cruz by the way. No nickname, just Joe.”

“Capp”

“Tony.”

“Kelly.”

“Matt.”

“Well, hi, everyone. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry that didn’t happen sooner, but I thought it might be best if Peter found his footing with you guys first and then I had to work out of the country for a bit.”

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you. You should introduce her to the chief Mills.”

And so he did. Along with Mouch and Hermann, the chief teased him for the blues before congratulating him on snagging a great girl. Cindy was lovely, just as sweet as her brownies. The day was going really well, even with the tension Gabby was creating with just about everyone. She was basically drooling over Matt and literally everyone was noticing, and for some reason, she was acting particularly cold towards you. But all in all, the day was a success, especially since it ended with the arrest of your dad, brother, and sister.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Erin was glaring at you so hard that you were thankful Antonio had gotten a freelance security detail hired for you. As it turned out, since a lot of the evidence you had was about your dad covering up the shit your siblings did, that they were in violation of the law as well. Part of you felt bad for Erin, she had worked really hard to get where she was. Yes, she made some mistakes when she was younger, but most of that was due to her mother’s neglect or influence, which you made sure to tell the court, but she still looked like she was planning your murder. “Be grateful detective Lindsay, you’d be going to prison and losing your badge if it wasn’t for Ms. Y/L/N.” She hmphed at the judge and you shrunk into your seat. Peter rubbed your arms, everything about him calming you.

“I hereby sentence Justin Voight to five years in prison with the chance of parole on charges of theft, DUI, neglectful driving, and conspiracy to commit corruption.”

“I hereby sentence Hank Voight to forty years in prison with no chance of parole on charges of corruption, money laundering, stalking, property damage, witness intimidation, and drug conspiracy.”

You left the courtroom feeling much lighter. You obviously didn’t feel good about sending your only remaining biological family to prison, but what other option did you have? They weren’t going to stop or pay reparations to the people they’d wronged. Just threaten and scare everyone who got in their way. And while you knew that Erin agreed with you on some level, you knew that she believed they shouldn’t go to prison. She would cover for them too, she had actually. And it was because of that that she was demoted to officer and barred from taking the detectives exam for five years. She stormed up to you, resembling a raging bull, after both trials had finished. “How could you, they are your family-”

“They have cost people their livelihoods, Justin actually paralyzed someone! I couldn’t stand by and do nothing, if they weren’t going to stop they had to be stopped. You have to realize that.”

“I just can’t believe-”

“Erin, you’re not joining them, and the only reason you’re not getting arrested for any of the shit you’ve done is because I spoke up and said it wasn’t your fault. All of it would have come out eventually, you know that. Now you don’t have to worry about when that happens. Don’t you get that?”

“You just betrayed your family-”

“Nope, you don’t get it. Goodbye Erin, I’ll talk to you when you pull your head out of my dad’s ass and apologize to me.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ONE YEAR LATER

You woke up but it was difficult to see and breathe. You could feel dust entering your mouth and throat whenever you tried to get some air, there were some beams of light coming in but you could still see very little, only the shapes of concrete and metal.  You didn’t feel good. Nauseous, light-headed, pounding in your head, ringing i your ears, and your thoughts were moving so muddled and slowly.

You remembered Kim, the CFD logo, and something about the nurses’ station? None of it made any sense to you, and thinking only hurt your head more. You were so heavy, and so tired, so you just let your eyes close.

The sunbeams were gone when you woke up, you heard sounds instead. Machines and ‘whooping’ mostly. But there were some people, you could not for the life of you hear what they were saying. And then you realized, ‘for the life of you’, Kim, CFD booth, charity race sign-up at the nurses’ station, three steps away, boom, nothing, rubble, rebar, dust, minimal light, minal air. The hospital exploded and you were underneath who knows how much of said hospital in pieces! Panic built up quickly, and suddenly you noticed metallic smelling liquid, aches, pains all over your body, something on top of your right leg. You didn’t think, you just acted. You screamed. Loud. In terror. In pain.

Peter, pizza, apartment, cat, Netflix, Cruz, Otis, pancakes, Molly’s, Hermann, Dawsons, coffee, doughnuts, Platt, Al, Justin, Erin, dad. Images, memories, flooded your mind, panic still securing you in its chokehold. You found an engagement ring in Peter’s nightstand last week. You were going to die. You were going to die. You were going to die. You were going to die. You hoadn’t been aware that you’d spent the entire time screaming as much as your lungs could bear until you vaguely recognized someone yelling at you. “Hey! Hello! Are you okay?”

“No! Help me- please!”

Everything was a blur, whether from your tears or your memory you weren’t sure. But in what felt like minutes you were out from and above the rubble, the night’s sky and a group of firefighters meeting your eyes. Their voices were muffled as you felt hands over you and you let yourself fall asleep again. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Crying, someone was crying. It wasn’t you but you could hear sobs coming from right next to you. The room was dark, the only light in the room coming from the cracks in the door and the machines attached to you. You were still in a lot of pain. Your head was throbbing, but not as much as earlier, your lower right leg was in a cast, you could feel bandages on various parts of your body, gauze wrapped around your chest, and there was a plastic lining around your nose in mouth and stale air making its way into your lungs. Your body didn’t feel as weighed down as before, but you could still feel the exhaustion throughout your body. “Peter?”

“Y/N? Oh, thank God. Dr. Rhodes? She’s awake!”

After a flurry of nurses and doctors and tests, Peter was let back in. Dr. Rhodes followed, giving a tentative smile. “Well, Y/N, you are lucky. After being unconscious for five days you have a severe concussion, four broken ribs that we might have to perform surgery on to make sure they don’t pierce your lungs or heart, a broken ankle with three torn ligaments, numerous lacerations, and your oxygen levels were low when you came in. You were initially on a breathing tube but your levels improved so we took it out and put on the mask instead. Is there anything you want me to go into further detail about?”

“My ribs; how close am I to needing surgery?”

“Very, we’ve done our best to secure and monitor them but we really think that surgery would be best, it’s just that your next of kin are arguing about the best course of action.”

“What? But Peter is my next of kin, my only next of kin. Who has been coming to you thinking they have any power here?”

“Uh, it’s your dad, Y/N. They went to the hospital board and argued that they should be considered next of kin. The board agreed. I tried to fight it, but you know how many strings your dad can pull.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Well, I’m awake now, and I can make medical decisions for myself now, right?”

“Yes, I have been told by the hospital’s lead attorney that once you completely woke up you could make all the decisions necessary. We’ve actually been hoping for that because your family has been causing a lot of trouble over this.”

“Do you recommend surgery?”

“Yes. Based on our observations surgery is inevitable. And the fact that your family opposed Peter and your doctors has actually added a significant amount of risks for you.”

“Alright, do the surgery.”

“A nurse will be in to prep you shortly.” 

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You looked at Peter’s tear-streaked face. “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought that I was going to die, I hadn’t even been aware of where I was or what had happened for most of the time I was down there. I was so scared that I would never make it back to you.”

“When I found out that you were in that building before the bomb went off, I just lost my mind. I was digging through rubble screaming your name, Casey and Severide had to pull me away and restrain me from searching for you. When you weren’t found after eight hours, and all that crews were finding dead bodies, I... The look that Boden and the lieutenants had with each other... It was without a doubt the worst day of my life. I love you, so much.” He was stroking your face, looking at you as if you were a gift from the sun. “I found the ring, almost two weeks ago now.”

He smiled and pulled the black box out of his coat pocket which was draped over the back of his chair. “You mean this one?”

“Yes.”

“I had a much more romantic proposal plan, but I don’t want to wait until it’s too late. I do not want a life without you. I want to spend the rest of my existence with you. Will you please marry me?”

“Yes. I love you so much, Peter. So, so much.”

Your moment with Peter was broken by Doris entering the room “... I hate to break up this moment, I really, really, do, seriously you guys are adorable, but I have to prep Y/N for surgery.”

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The firehouse took turns visiting you and Leslie in the hospital, celebrating the fact that you were both alive and well and that you and Peter got engagement. Eliza, Peter’s kid sister, showed up with balloons and flowers. Peter spent the rest of your time in the hospital holding your hand and looking at you like you put the sun in the sky. And you looked at him like he hung the stars just for you. Everything finally felt like it was falling into place, and everyone, including your guilt-ridden dad, couldn’t be more happy for you two.