#you can hear about my mother's aggressive early onset alzheimers

[hollowboobtheory]

i think that when people say they hate small talk and they wanna talk about deep shit you should trauma dump on them. that would be funny i think

[a-bau-tiful-mind]

On the Line (Spencer Reid x Reader)

A request fill for anon who wanted angst with a fluffy ending. Spoilers for 11x11 “Entropy” if you aren’t caught up. Everything italicized is from the show, not my words. Hope you all enjoy it. xx 

“I don’t understand why you keep asking me, Y/N! There’s nothing to tell!” Spencer was raising his voice, darting around the bedroom grabbing his coat, gun holster, and pistol, placing them on his person with over-exaggerated movements. 

“There clearly is and you’re hiding it from me!” You said from your spot on the bed, watching him helplessly. Ever since he got back from visiting his mom, Spencer was slowly distancing himself from you. The phone calls on his trip were short spoken. The fights you’d been having were more frequent. Instead of spending the rest of his time off together, he had hid away at his desk and ignored you. When you spoke up about it the first few times it happened he’d deny it, but then he started leaving abruptly without any reason, taking phone calls outside, and become increasingly more suspicious. Every time you pressed him about the situation, it’d escalate into a screaming match.

Spencer’s personal cell rang on his nightstand, the screen glitched and automatically answered. You could faintly hear JJ’s voice.

“Son of a bitch!” Spencer shouted, frustrated. He brought the phone up to his ear. “No, JJ. Not you, I’m sorry. I’m having a rough morning and now my phone’s acting up. Yeah. Alright. I’m on my way.” He aggressively hit the End button.

“Spence, we’re not done here.” You reminded him quietly. “Well it’s funny that you said ‘we’ because I’m definitely done here.” He retorted harshly, turning and leaving the bedroom.

You sat there, annoyed that he’d leave things like this. You always understood that his job came first, but always taking the backseat was taxing. Especially when he was being so closed off emotionally, it was like being in love with a shadow.

As the day went on your annoyance turned to anger, then to regret and sorrow. There was nothing you hated more than him going into work in the middle of the fight, his job was too risky. Anxiety set in and you started panicking. You started letting your mind wander to questions Spencer never wanted you to fixate on, what if he got hurt? What if the last thing you heard from him was how done he was with you and your relationship? You didn’t tell him you loved him before he left, you always made sure to do that, but you were just so angry and hurt that you let it slide. Overwhelmed with guilt, you started getting a sick, sinking feeling in your stomach and all you wanted was to hear his voice, have him home.

You looked at the clock and saw that it was close to 8, he should have been home by now. You tried to rationally think that he was probably working on case files and that he lost track of time, or that he was still annoyed and wanted to cool off. Either of those options would have been better than what your mind was stuck on. Your imagination was your worst enemy and you couldn’t shut it off.

Tears steadily flowing, you reached for your phone. You had to call him. If he didn’t answer, you’d call JJ, Hotch, or even have Penelope track him. Intuition telling you that you had to know if he was alright or not.

Holding your breath you heard the line ring, grateful that his cell wasn’t off. You heard a small click and caught on to muffled words. You remembered that his phone was answering calls automatically. You listened carefully heard Spencer’s voice speaking softly, relieved that he was okay. You caught onto a woman’s voice that wasn’t familiar to you. A week ago you’d never believe he could cheat on you, but lately you didn’t know what to believe. Spying on your boyfriend felt wrong, but you justified that you knew he would probably do the same thing if the roles were reversed. You turned on the speaker so you could hear better.

“My mom has schizophrenia and the doctor’s changed her medication which seemed to agitate her, so I went to the treatment center to help her.”

“That’s it? You just risked your life over mommy’s pills?”

“It’s the truth.”

“It’s part of the truth. You’re holding something back.”

You felt paralyzed, your gut proving you right. He wasn’t alright, and now his life was at risk because of some woman. What was so private that he’d risk his life to hide it? You held your breath, scared you’d get him caught if you made noise. You were shaking as you listened on to Spencer go back and forth with this killer, hearing him profile her and get stuck in a twisted game. Did he know he was going under cover? Why didn’t he tell you? Your mind was running a million miles per minute as you listened on.

“Wait. Your mother - tell me.” “Is this part of the game?”

“No. The game’s over.”

“When I looked at her medical chart, it didn’t make any sense. The medication that they gave her should have been helping, but I couldn’t figure out why it was making her so angry. So, I, uh, went to see her. The moment I walked in her room, I saw it. For three seconds, she didn’t know who I was. I had her tested that morning and I found out that night that she had early onset of dementia. Most likely Alzheimer��s.”

Everything made sense now, and you knew he wasn’t lying to her. Your broken heart shattered once again, hearing the unsub ask Spencer if he tested himself, exposing his fears of inheriting not one, but now two of his mother’s illnesses. You wanted to kick yourself for fighting with Spencer so much and not catching on to what was happening, but inside you knew that he didn’t want you to know.

“I can’t stop it. I can’t help her. All I can do is find people that I can help.”

Even under the weight of his world crashing down on him, he didn’t want to cause anyone any grief. He just wanted to help.

You heard commotion and movement, you deduced that she had Spencer at gunpoint and Derek was talking her down. After some intense words, she agreed to let Spencer escort her out of the building.

Once you heard the click of the handcuffs, you allowed yourself to hang up. You let out the sob you’d been holding in for the past hour. You didn’t know what to think. You were scared for Spencer’s life, worried about Diana and all the uncertainty she’d face, and you couldn’t help but feel betrayed that Spencer told a serial killer all of this before he told you.

You waited up for Spencer to come through the front door, when you heard the his key turn in the lock, you got out of bed and padded towards the living room.

“Spence,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse from crying.

“I, uh, know you heard everything,” he said just as softly. “I saw my call log as I was leaving the bullpen. I shouldn’t have had my personal phone out on the field, I’m so sorry you had to hear all of that.”

You’d started sobbing all over again running towards him, “Oh god, Spencer.”

“Shh, it’s alright.” Here he was, having just come home from being held hostage, consoling you for what was happening. He stroked your hair as he held you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked, “Why did a contract killer hear it from you first? Why do insist on doing everything on your own?” You were still frustrated with his stubborn independence.  “I don’t know, Y/N. Ever since I got back, I had this idea that if I kept you out of this and distanced myself, I could learn to live without you. Eventually, I’m going to have to know a world where you and I don’t exist.” You could tell he was terrified at the concept.

“Hey,” you said, grabbing his face so he’d look at you. It was your turn to comfort him, “We aren’t sure what’s going to happen eventually. With us. With your mom. Anything. We don’t. What we do know is what’s going on right now. And right now I am here and I will be here to remind you that we exist. We are real. I love you and you love me. Don’t let anyone or anything take that away.”

“I love you so much,” he said, he was holding you so tightly that his voice muffled by your neck. “I don’t want what we have to die. I really don’t want to have to live without you.”

“You’ll never have to.” You promised.