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beautiful-bau-beau · 3 years

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Crutches

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Gender neutral! Reader- [Revised as of 06/03/2021]

Warning: mentions of Spencer being shot from season 5.

Contains: Fluff

A/N: just a short little rewrite for y’all.

Imagine: taking care of Spencer while his leg heals

Masterlist

————–

“Spencer Walter Reid!” You huffed as you entered your shared apartment, keys clinking as you set them on the side table next to the door. Your boyfriend whipped his head towards the door at the sound of your entrance, greeting you softly.

You made your way to the front of the couch he was draped upon, hands combing through his locks before pushing his head away before he had the chance to kiss you hello.

“Y/n!” He mocked, rubbing the spot where you pushed him. “What was that for?”

You raised your eyebrow at him. “Tsk tsk, Spence, acting “cute” isn’t going to make me stop scolding you.” You chastised, annoyance lacing your tone.

He looked up at you, the corner of his mouth twitching as he prevented himself from smiling. “Acting?” Before you had the chance to move away he stretched his arms to wrap around your neck, causing you to bend so he could finally give you a sweet kiss.

You momentarily forgot your annoyance, leaning your head to the side and capturing his lips for a more loving embrace. Your hand returned to his hair and you leaned into him, your leg bumping into his crutches, reminding you why you were a bit upset with him. You groaned against him, hands pushing against his chest to pull away.

“Spence.” Your tone became stern. “You flew with your injury when the doctor said you weren’t cleared to fight! You were shot, remember? Now that your stitches came undone and had to be re-stitched , you can’t go to work for another week.” You expected him to apologize, eyebrows furrowing as he simply smiled, hand cupping your jaw.

“Well then, it’s a good thing I have you to take care of me.” You sighed deeply, relenting in your mixed emotions to give a quick peck to his nose, his smile widening in return.

“It’s a good thing I love you or I’d leave you to take care of yourself.” You retorted.

“Oh,” He exhaled in a low voice, eyebrows cocked. “You know I’d be lost without you.” He mumbled and you felt your cheeks heat up, rolling your eyes.

“So,” You began, standing up straight and escaping his grip. “Since I’m in charge of babysitting my boyfriend for a week, I get to improvise the perfect Spencer Reid Get Well Stuff. I’ll be back.” You sauntered upstairs and grabbed some stuff out from your book and movie shelf.

Spencer had been resting his eyes when you reentered the living room, jumping as you released the load of items you brought back with a loud thump.

“What’s all this for?”

“Hold on Princess, you’ll see.” You teased, throwing his pillow from your shared bed into his face that you had brought. Soon to accompany him was a quilt, a cup of coffee, and a sandwich.

“You’re too good for me.” He sighed contently. “What books and movies did you grab for me?” You kneeled down, holding them up as you said their titles.

“Harry Potter Series: The Sorcerer’s Stone, Chamber of Secrets, Prisoner of Azkaban, Triwizard Tournament, Order of the Phoenix, Half-Blood Prince, Deathly Hallows. Then, Twilight, because I need someone to rant with about how utterly stupid it is- well, the movies, not the books- I’m getting off topic, anyways; Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse, and Breaking Dawn. Then, since I know you’ll be done with these in like an hour, Hunger Games; then Catching Fire, and Mockingjay. And Lastly, Maze Runner; Scorch Trials and The Death Cure.” He raised his eyebrow at you.

“JJ once told me on a case that you haven’t read them, so, I thought you could read those, and then we can start watching the movies. And when we’re done with those, maybe I can coax you into reading the Percy Jackson Series. And speaking of movies, I know you really enjoyed Wes Anderson’s Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou so I brought The Royal Tenenbaums, Moonrise Kingdom, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Bottlerocket, Rushmore, and The Grand Budapest Hotel. I know you prefer reading more, but if you’re intent on forming your ass-print on the couch, then why not?”

“Okay, I’ll expose myself to the young adult fiction section of your library if it makes you happy.” He chuckled at your explanation. “But you know I don’t read much in English.” You returned his laughter and ran your fingers through his hair once more.

“Just tell me when you finish a book. I think I’m just gonna clean up around the house a bit m'kay?” He nodded and you kissed his cheek. “Have fun!”

——

(Third person POV)

Spencer found out that every time he mentioned he finished a book, Y/n would kiss him…feverishly. If he couldn’t read 20,000 words per minute, he would definitely be motivated to do so.

After he had read all the books you had recommended, you two decided to cuddle and watch the first movie of Harry Potter, laughing and smiling when Spencer would point out the mistakes and differences, trying to quiet him with a playful “shut up and enjoy the movie, would you, chatty Cathy?”

Spencer turned to you, face illuminated by the third Harry Potter film, your head resting on the side of his chest under his arm. You held on to his hand, squeezing occasionally. His heart twisted, reveling in the fact that he loved you, and was so happy that you were here with him, making sure he was not only physically alright, but entertained as well.

“Y/n, I’m starting to think that being in crutches isn’t so bad. Not as long as I have you with me.”

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beautiful-bau-beau · 3 years

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I might have made an announcement about this in the past, but as I rewrite old works from 5 years ago, I am also uploading them to AO3 under the username @real_beautiful_bau_beau (because someone already took mine?). I get that the format of that website is easier for some so please go check it out!

#spencer reid #Criminal Minds #beautiful bau beau

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beautiful-bau-beau · 3 years

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My Love

Listen to this as you read: Turn Around- Camille,

Somewhere only we know- Lily Allen

My Love

Masterlist

Contains: Fluff, Spencer on the spectrum, gender neutral!Reader

[Revised as of 5/24/2021]

A/N: I relied on a speech someone made about autism, a video directed by a woman on the spectrum about her daily life on the spectrum, and a few different government websites to try and be as accurate as I could. I appreciate feedback regarding this topic as I want all of my works to be relatable to any reader!

At the very least Spencer, in this work, falls under the umbrella of autism spectrum disorder (ASD) but I defined his behaviors as Asperger Syndrome because canonically, in Criminal Minds, Spencer exhibits behaviors such as a “remarkable focus and persistence, an aptitude for recognizing patterns, and attention to detail” source. In this work specifically spencer is hypersensitive to loud noises and has difficulty with nonverbal communication.

I linked some sources at the bottom if you would like to understand my mindset while reading this. —-

The early morning smell of coffee grinds filled your brain with the false hope that you wouldn’t be drowsy for your first day on the job. You were lucky that a coffee shop nearby was able to accept your application so quickly after being fired from your previous one due to your manager being a sexist asshole. The fact that your wallet was denying your hearts wishes of marrying rich had nothing to do with it.

The coffee house was slightly packed when your manager put you on the counter, but the work was the same old thing after a while. You heard the doorbell ding as a few new customers came in, one particular man catching your attention when you looked up. He was groaning slightly, hands fiddling around. His brown doe eyes looked up from the short blonde woman next to him. You assumed she was his girlfriend, and you smiled softly.

She approached you and smiled, ordering their drinks. The man stood next to her, watching you very studiously. You were about to turn around to start preparing their order when, “Hi I’m Spencer.” made you pause. After a moment, you decided to reply, not wanting to be rude. “I’m-”

“Y/n. I can read your nametag. Isn’t it funny how most employees wear a nametag, but usually people only use it when they’re complaining? In reality nametags are there so that people can feel more comfortable when talking to strangers, although how could anyone not be comfortable when greeted with such a charming smile?” You blushed, registering that he didn’t seem like he was flirting with you. It didn’t even look like he knew what he was saying.

“Thank you. How could one not smile when such flattery is bestowed?” You responded in the same manner and he responded with a child-like smile, causing his companion to look at him with a look of amusement and slight caution. She told him to go sit down for a few minutes while she collected the coffee.

“I hope that wasn’t offending you in anyway.” You offered to the woman , who seemed puzzled. “You’re his girlfriend right?” To that she laughed, and you pinked with embarrassment.

“Sorry, but no. He’s single, lucky for you. He’s a very special guy.” She smiled, taking the drinks and straying to lead him out the door. Before he left, he turned around and waved a shy goodbye.

- (3rd person POV)

Being born with slight Asperger’s Syndrome, Spencer’s life had never been normal. When he was a child he seemed to offended a lot of people with his observations, which he didn’t keep to himself. For the short period of time when he was in high school, he was viewed as a freak for taking senior classes as a freshman and not conforming to anything that was seemingly ‘cool’ at the time. Now in his adult stage of life, he was blessed enough to make a few friends at the job he had worked out for 13 years.

Something was missing.

Someone who he would be truly unique to in the world, and vice versa. JJ liked to tease him for not knowing much about romance but that’s one of the few things she was wrong about. Spencer’s eyes were drawn to every couple who held each other’s hands, hugged, and kissed as he traveled to work every morning.

After a lifetime of rejection, whether it be from his father, girls who didn’t understand him in school, or the slight pang of hurt he still felt from Gideon so many years ago had felt like another crack in his fragile glass heart. It seemed so difficult for him to even fathom a life with someone who truly loved him.

He liked your smile. That day at the coffee shop, your gaze held no pity, no cruelty, just kindness. Garcia had poked some fun at him, telling him that he should go back to try and get your number. That wasn’t exactly his plan but she did have a point. Maybe he would try and go back…

“Don’t come in.” Spencer told Morgan as they stood outside the door to the coffee shop a few days later. His friend chuckled, thinking Spencer was joking until he saw how serious the young doctors face looked.

“I can’t get coffee?” He asked, brows raising. Spencer hurriedly rolled his eyes. “No, you can’t get coffee, I’ll get it, just stay outside.” Spencer looked over his shoulder to see you working the counter. Morgan noticed this and a smile started to grow on his face.

“Oh I see, you don’t want me around to cramp your style. What’s their name?” Morgan laughed under his breath noticing how nervous Spencer was. The aforementioned man ran a hand trough his hair and tried straightening his tie.

“Statistically men with muscles are more attractive to the average male-seeking person. A physical demonstration of strength makes them believe that males can protect them. Not to mention that you have an inexplainable talent to charm any anyone who dares lay their eyes on you…I’m afraid after they see you…” He trailed off leading Morgan to connect the dots. “Their name is y/n.” He mumbled quietly.

“Well, Their name is about to be Y/n Reid because I know you, and if you like them then I know they’re perfect for you. Especially because you normally blush as soon as any of us mention you having a partner.” Morgan teased with a gentle expression, lightly shoving Spencer to the door. “Flirt all you want but remember my coffee!’ He called out before Spencer shut the door.

(Your POV)

"Hi!” An overenthusiastic voice startled you as you turned around to greet your next customer. You jumped but smiled once you realized it was Spencer. “Uh, hi!” You mumbled, hand over your heart as you tried to stop your cheeks from burning out of embarrassment. “It would be really great if I could get two black coffees.” He asked and you nodded, beginning the order.

“You don’t want anything in them?” You questioned and he shook his head. “Ah I get it, you don’t trust me do you? I know I’m new and all but I can tell you, I’m a lot better with the cream to sugar ratio then some people who have been here for years.” You smiled teasingly and his eyes widened.

“I’m sorry Y/n, if you think I don’t trust you!” He began, his long, bony fingers shake slightly and fiddle with each other. as he spoke.

“No, no, I’m sorry. I was just teasing you but I think my tone came of sharper than intended.” You explained, mentally reprimanding yourself.

“Oh, I get it…” His eyes widened in understanding. “That was a joke, wasn’t it? I have a hard time differentiating sarcasm sometimes.” He swept a lock of his hair behind his ear and you observed the tips of his ears were pinked in embarrassment.

“Do you like chocolate?” You asked him, a smile hinting at the corner of your mouth. He paused as if he had to seriously think about the question before shyly nodding, goodness he was cute. You handed him one of the muffins that laid in the glass display case for purchasing, telling him that this one was on the house, blushing when a slight look of awe crossed his features.

(3d person POV)

Morgan looked up from his phone as he heard the bell ring from the door opening, standing up from the bench he had situated himself down upon. A deep chuckle escaped his throat when he saw the bewildered face of his friend.

“I’m guessing it went well?” He gestured to the muffin. “You usually don’t order muffins.” He pointed out, remembering Spencer’s usual routine.

“No, I don’t. This one was for free, y/n said so.” Spencer handed Morgan his coffee, the aforementioned man about to take a sip when he noticed some writing on the side of his cup. “I think this one’s for you, Dr. Love.”

“Hope to see you soon! -Y/n” —- (Your POV)

The next time you saw Spencer he was by himself, sitting at one of the tables set for two. You had decided to take advantage of your employee discount on your day off. When he saw you enter, his eyes lit up, waving you over. He opened his mouth to say something but the sound of the blender distracted him and he put his hands over his ears and started humming the 1963 Dr. Who theme.

You had looked up patterns of behavior that Spencer had expressed and came up with articles that suggested he may have be on the autistic spectrum, not that it mattered. You just wanted to make sure you understood how he perceived certain actions and phrases and in turn be able to communicate in the proper way. You believed at that moment he was stimming, trying to calm himself down.

“Dr. Who, right?” You asked softly, sitting down next him. He looked up and nodded, a slight grin on his face. “Are you here by yourself today?” You asked, sitting in the chair across from him. “You’re usually not alone.”

“I came to see you.” He stated as if it was the most obvious thing. “I wanted to come by myself.” He slowly reached for the cup of water he had, taking out a few pills. “They’re for anxiety.” He explained. You eyed him up and down as he swallowed the medication, eyes catching sight of the thick book resting at his side.

“Are you actually reading that?” You asked out of disbelief. He nodded, fiddling with the bindings of the book, making sure not to damage it in any way. “What’s it about?”

He opened his mouth to reply, when the continuing of loud machines startled him. You knew that he wasn’t that comfortable with his surroundings and offered to take him somewhere else. He seemed hesitant to change locations until you explained that you weren’t working that day and would be leaving soon regardless.

“Yes please.” He answered, tone sounding like he was being suffocated. “How about we take some hot drinks with us?” You suggested, getting up to order once he nodded. You knew he may be sensitive to new tastes so you stuck with his usual order of black coffee.

You had led him to a park, the hot drinks favorable for the gloomy autumn weather. The sidewalk was littered with leaves that survived falling off the trees, a muddy pod and an empty playground. It didn’t look like much but Spencer thought it was beautiful…because you were there.

“So…I think I’ve deduced something about you.” You broke the moment of silence, and Spencer perked, remaining quiet. You nodded, pausing to take a sip and sigh, steam visible when you exhaled. “You’re a genius, aren’t you?”

He furrowed his eyebrows which you noticed were strangely groomed while his hair wasn’t. “I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified but I do have an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.”

“So you’re a genius.” You smiled, eyebrows raising. “What was that like growing up?” You continued to sip your drink, clearing your throat every once and a while, listening to him talk about his advanced schooling, FBI profiling and his friends. When he finished, you were about to reply when you saw the perfect tree.

“Hold this, please.” You placed the paper cup in his hand. He watched with a puzzled expression as you approached a tree with a million branches. You stood on your tiptoes to grab a branch, pulling yourself upon it, feet climbing vertically up the trunk until you laid your legs on a thick branch. From your knees down to your head you were upside down until you pulled yourself up into a sitting position. “Are you going to come join me?” You asked, starting to stand.

“In the United States, more than 5,600 children die annually from unintentional injuries. Each year in the U.S., 140 children die, and 3 million more are injured in falls. Falls are also the second leading cause of death from unintentional injury in the U.S. a-a-and Tree climbing is so unsafe, lumberjacks can’t even buy life insurance. Not to mention that 36% of all hunting accidents in Georgia are caused by falling out of trees.” He looked uncomfortable watching you.

“So you’ve never climbed one then?” You asked, starting to make your way up the different branches. You recounted childhood memories, consisting of dirt, chalk, bruises, bicycles and tree climbing, you couldn’t imagine it any other way.

“Played chess, read, I cleaned obsessively, learned all I could about anything I ever questioned.” He stated obviously, secretly thankful that most of the leaves had fallen off the trees so he could watch you climb. You seemed to make it look easy, but he hoped you didn’t fall or hurt yourself.

“Is there anyway I could try to convince you to join me?” He shook his head, nervously looking around.

“If you get down from that tree this instant then I’ll think about it okay?” He pleaded, bouncing a leg frantically. He sighed heavily in relief when you started to make your way down.

“Sounds like a deal.” You groaned at your feet hit the pavement, hoping you didn’t make him too uncomfortable. Though you had researched ASD it didn’t mean you were an expert in it and how those with ASD functioned. “I’ll teach you and make sure you don’t fall.” You accepted the drink he held out to you, stifling a laugh as his wide eyes met yours.

There was something about you… he couldn’t quite identify it… perhaps it was the warm smile you gave him that made him want to know you more. -

From that day on Spencer came to your work every day that he could, trying to adjust his schedule. Change was hard for him but he knew if he wanted to see you he would have to make an effort.

After a while you realized you had a crush on the agent. You had gotten to know each other pretty well and started to understand more about his life, wishing that you could be a part of it. However, you couldn’t really be sure if he felt the same, as relationships never came up in conversation.

You decided you would try to discuss your feelings the next time you met him. Even if he decided he didn’t want to pursue a relationship, you knew you wanted him to remain in your life and be your friend.

You had reached out to him and decided to meet up close to his apartment, started out with the usual conversations, just silly formalities until halfway throughout the conversation. You had tried to come up with a way to explain your feelings with no room for misinterpretation, deciding to be blunt.

“Spencer, I like you and would like to pursue a romantic relationship with you.” You gazed up at him nervously, trying to gauge his reaction. His lip twitched, repeating your phrase a few times before falling silent.

"Y/n. I hope you know as someone on the spectrum, I’m still a person. I want the same things you do. I want to know love, and I want respect. I have a job, but it’s hard for people to take me seriously. You’ve been so sweet to me since the first day we met. I’m not stupid, I know people see me as a child in a man’s body, but you were one of the first few people who didn’t even hesitate to treat me like anyone else. Ever since I first saw you, I’ve preferred your company than that of my own mind.” He seemed to struggle in communicating his feelings. “Being in a relationship with me won’t be easy. We’ll both have to work harder than you would in a relationship with someone else. I may need downtime from you and I may not reciprocate touches or kisses even if I want to. You have to understand that or we can’t function.”

"I understand and I’m willing to work on the relationship if you’re willing to start one.”

“Yes.” He agreed, face flushing. It may not have been the grandest romantic proposal to ever go down, but you could tell it meant a lot to you both.

“Would you like to hold my hand?” You asked, barely getting the question out before his fingers tangled with yours. Your cheeks ached as you smiled, gently squeezing his palm. Your stole a glance at your partner, blush deepening as he squeezed back, a dopey grin mirroring your own.

He was no longer alone.

references: x x x

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beautiful-bau-beau · 3 years

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“ Just gather us all in one place and kill us all with missiles. Let us all die at once as martyrs. Because what you’re doing right now is torture! “

I am still sorry if putting this in blm and stop asian hate offends anyone, but as you know by now, social media platforms are preventing Palestine from trending. And you deserve to know the truth. And Palestinian deserve to be heard

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beautiful-bau-beau · 3 years

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Okay so it's a bit long... Can you do an imagine set in season 6 where instead of Emily "dying" it's spencer and YN and spencer have been together for long time but she doesn't get told he's still live (and she's on the team) after about a month jj visits her at Spencer's apartment and finds out she's pregnant, when spencer comes back she's further along, and he can tell, and I don't know, you can make up the ending aha x thank You xxxx

Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

[Previously titled: “Wishing I Was With You,” rewritten 5/19/2021]

Contains: Angst with a happy ending.

A/N: For the sake of fanfiction, there’s obviously some tweaking of the plot and the functions of certain elevator buttons. Set around Season 7, episode 1.

tw: pregnancy

I do not own Criminal Minds or any events/characters.

——

Had Spencer been gone for years? Weeks? Months? Hours?

Somedays you woke up and knew you wouldn’t make it out of bed, your tears staining your cheeks, throat too tight to speak, pain as raw as it was then. There were other days where it seemed bearable, being able to get up and go to work, eating lunch by the portrait of Spencer that hung against the wall of the fallen.

You both had known the risks of being agents, let alone being involved with each other, but you could still barely believe he was gone. It was like running your tongue over your gums after a tooth fell out or running your hands through your hair after a haircut. So obvious but so surreal.

“No!” A scream had ripped through your throat. Spencer lay on the ground unmoving, blood pouring from his chest wound. You and Derek had stumbled into the storage unit to find that Spencer had been wounded and Doyle had escaped, but not before shooting Prentiss in the arm.

You started crying, kneeling to the ground and rubbing some strands out of his pale face. You started muttering incoherent words, silently begging someone, or just anyone really to make this all a bad dream.

Morgan must have called for the paramedics, because it seemed as soon as you had touched Spencer, the medics were loading him onto a gurney, heading for the nearest hospital.

You watched him go, Morgan holding you back because they wouldn’t let you ride with him in such fatal conditions. He whispered reassuring things in your ear, trying to calm you down, never leaving your side as Spencer went into immediate surgery.

Silence had never been quite so loud, you remembered, the waiting room full of nervous energy from the entire team. In times like these, it seemed that even the unreligious would pray until their hands turned red and their words turned to much.

It was at 4 in the morning when the nurse finally came by, announcing that Spencer was dead.

You snapped out of your daydream when a kick to your belly startled you, reminding you of the months that had passed since that day. You smiled softly, rubbing your stomach. Spencer may not be around anymore but at least there was a little part of him that remained near the team, his child.

You didn’t know you were pregnant until a few weeks after Spencer’s funeral. At first you thought the frequent vomiting was from grief, or stress, pregnancy the last thing you could think of. After Garcia and JJ urged you to go to the hospital, you were surprised to hear your doctor even mention the possibility.

You were upset at first, not wanting to raise Spencer’s child in a world without him, thinking how unfair it was that something so happy, the idea of raising a child, was tainted with so much sadness. How were you supposed to answer the tough questions, like, “Where’s daddy? Why isn’t he here?”

After a while you realized you were thankful for the chance. For a son or daughter who may inherit his advantageous intellect, his brown eyes, dark hair, lanky limbs, his soft smile, his love for Halloween, or even his name, no matter what the born sex of your child.

“What?” You had asked, Morgan’s face not quite reacting in the way you had thought he would. Penelope looked over her shoulder to catch the unsure facial expression he wore.

“Is Spencer considered a girls’ name?” He asked carefully, causing you to roll your eyes. Thankfully Penelope had this one covered.

“Haven’t you ever seen Pretty Little Liars?”

“I think it’s safe to say I haven’t. Why? Was I supposed to?” He teased, causing you both to huff.

“It doesn’t matter if you haven’t seen it because we’ll force you to watch it next time you come over.” You elbowed Penelope, who nodded vigorously. “Besides, it’s a good gender-neutral name, in case our kid identifies as something other than their birth sex. You have to think of these things when you have kids, Morgan.”

“Well see, now Morgan’s a good gender neutral name, why don’t we work that in somewhere, hm?”

“Oh my god, here we go again!” Penelope had cried out, causing a silly argument you couldn’t quite remember the rest of.

Garcia and Morgan became the shoulders you would lean on during your appointments, midnight cravings, your emotional outbursts, your back, shoulder and foot pain. They were always there for you and you had decided early on that they were the perfect godparents.

The rest of the team was also quite caring and helpful to you when you announced your pregnancy, JJ and Hotch both offered cribs, extra clothes, bottles, baby bags, etc. in case you were in need. Rossi, never having been the best father, thought this might be his chance to do something right for a child, intent on helping you, Penelope and Derek with the baby nursery.

The best gift itself being a scrapbook that the entire team collaborated on, filled with pictures and stories of Spencer for your child to grow up with. One page in particular stood out, a tale about Spencer’s fascination with phantasmagorium and a certain paragraph about him wanting baby geniuses someday. You knew it was written by Emily, who you hadn’t seen since Spencer’s funeral, being placed in the Witness Protection Program for her safety. You didn’t ask how she was able to collaborate on the project, happy enough that your child would be born into the world with a group of kind and caring people who would love them no matter what.

You could almost feel Spencer’s happiness, as if he was still there with you.

You were now in your third trimester, which meant you were stuck on paperwork duty. No more missions for you since you were prohibited from flying and because extreme stress might send you into early labor.

Which is why you were so surprised when Morgan called you into the debriefing room, presenting the current case of a missing Declan Doyle and making you aware of

“Why do you guys want me on this case? It seems like a conflict of interest.” You swallowed thickly, trying not to focus on the fact that the man who murdered your boyfriend was so close by. “You know Strauss will throw a fucking fit once she finds out.”

“Hotch and I agree, we’re going to need all hands on deck for this. If we don’t find him soon, an innocent child might die. Hotch swears he will be at fault if Strauss finds out, your job won’t be in any jeopardy.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“We think your state might make Doyle more willing to cooperate, reminding him of his own son and what he might lose if he refuses to comply.” You knew you couldn’t refuse, agreeing to the proposition softly. Though you couldn’t name it at the time, you knew something was off.

The past few hours had thrown you up, down and sideways, from Emily and Hotch coming back and interrogating Doyle. Declan was still missing, and time was running out. Little did you know that the stress was just beginning.

You sat in the round room, eyes barely catching sight of Hotchner as he entered the room.

“Everybody have a seat.”

“Why?” Derek asked. “What’s going on?”

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” An uneasy feeling immediately entered your gut as he continued, avoiding your stare. “As you all know, Spencer had lost a lot of blood after protecting Emily from Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilize him and he was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration. Since Doyle thought he was dead, he was the perfect candidate to follow him. His identity was strictly need-to-know and has been living under several identities. He’s the reason why we have Doyle in custody now.”

You let out a shaky breath, hand reaching for your stomach.

“She’s alive?” Penelope asked softly, reaching for your free hand.

“We buried him.” You declared, voice wobbly. “He can’t… he can’t be alive?”

“I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues they should be directed towards me.”

“Any issues?” Derek snapped, standing and resting a hand on your shoulder. “Yeah, I got issues-” his raised voice was cut off by approaching footsteps.

It was him. The man you had cried over, grieved over, buried, the father of your children. The man whose mother you had been writing to every day since he passed, standing in front of you. Perfectly healthy.

You couldn’t believe it.

Spencer’s eyes met yours before dropping down to your stomach, opening his mouth to say something.

“No.” You spat the word out, standing to your feet. “No. You don’t get to say anything. I… I can’t even look at you, I’m so… so angry!.” You stuttered.

“Y/l/n..” Hotch began, before you whipped around to face him.

“No! No! You saw me grieve and prepare to be a mother. You just watched me struggle and you didn’t say a damn thing!? And- and not even for my own sake. Were you going to continue to lie to me and my child for years? What if we didn’t catch Doyle?”

“We have a case-” He tried again. You grabbed your badge out of your pocket, slamming it on the table.

“You’ll have to finish it with one less agent.” You hissed, heading for the door. Spencer stood in front of you, unoving, eyes still fixed on your stomach.

“Get out of my way.” You tried to stop your voice from cracking.

“I-”

“Get. out. of. my. Way.” You bit out, tears spilling down your cheeks. He continued to stay still, only moving as you pushed past him, heading for the elevator.

“Y/n!” You heard him call after you, furiously pressing the “close door” button to no avail. He made it in the elevator just in time for the doors to shut.

“Don’t.” You tried to stop him, reaching to press the button of the closest floor. You could try to lose him on the stairs, if you waddled fast enough.

“Y/n!” He raised his voice, jamming the ‘emergency stop’ button, the shaft lurching in response.

“What are you doing?!” You cried, latching onto the railings.

“Please, hear me out. I never wanted to be separated from you. But I had to think of the mission. Of Emily. You would have done the same, I know this, you know this.” You avoided his stare, knowing he was right. “Y/n, it was one thing to leave you. But neither Hotch nor JJ told me that you were pregnant. If I had known I.. I would have-”

“No you wouldn’t have.” You admitted hoarsely. “Because I wouldn’t have. You and I both know we have to prioritize the masses before the individuals.”

“You have to believe me.” His pleading sounded out of character for the man who seemed to know everything. “I would never want to miss this, and there wasn’t a day that passed by that I didn’t want to call you, drop everything and take the first flight back home, to be here with you.” Tears threatened to spill from his eyes.

You were so caught up in your own emotions that you had refused to think of his. Spencer, who swore up and down that when it was his time to be a father he would never abandon them the way his dad did. Spencer, who cared for Henry like he was his own. Spencer, who was the love of your life.

You knew many a coworker before and during your time at the B.A.U. to know that they would give anything, anything, to have a moment where their loved one was actually alive. So, instead of stewing over the rights and wrongs of the situation, you let your anger and sadness go, wrapping Spencer in your arms.

“How about Andrew?” You sat on your bed, watching Spencer try to read through the instructions of how to assemble a crib. He may be able to read 20,000 words per minute, but he wasn’t able to construct as quickly.

“It’s Greek for valiant.” Spencer chimed in, more focused on trying to connect to pieces together but still listening as you read through a book of baby names.

A few weeks had passed since the Doyle case had passed. Thankfully, after you and Spencer made up, you both agreed to put a hold on your feelings until after the case had been solved, Hotch remaining quiet as you re-entered the round room directly after, a simple nod sent your way.

You were just glad that Emily was safe and that the suspension had been lifted off of you following the trial that occurred shortly after. Now you and Spencer could focus on your up-and-coming due date.

Thanks to a recent ultrasound, you both found out you were having a boy though it didn’t matter the sex. At least he would have a father, the most loyal and caring one you could have asked for.

Spencer, although flattered by your idea to name the child after him, felt it was a little odd now that he was “alive” so now you both were coming up with new ideas.

“Let’s call him…Sergio.” You teased, smiling as you heard him chuckle.

“After Emily’s cat?”

“Oh! You’re right, I completely forgot about that. We could try… Butch? Or…. Hans?”

“I think we should put this conversation to bed soon.” Spencer warned, and you could tell you were losing your credibility.

“No! Wait, wait. Um… what about Morgan?” You tried as a last-ditch effort, thinking back to your conversation with Penelope and Derek..

“…It means ‘of the sea,’ Welsh origin, gender neutral.” He answered, peering over his glasses to meet your stare. He wasn’t saying no…

“So you like it?! Morgan Reid?” You sounded it out, repeating it a few times under your breath to get used to it on your tongue.

“What about Morgan Gideon Reid?” He suggested and you felt your face get warm. It was all so… real. You couldn’t have possibly imagined when you started at the B.A.U. that you would be pregnant, while your coworker and long-term boyfriend who had been previously dead three weeks ago was trying to build a crib in your bedroom, deciding on a baby name.

“Well,” You flipped through the book, finding the name in print. “It means ‘he who cuts down’ and if i recall, in the bible he was a hero and judge of Israel who won battles through skillful planning and faith rather than strength of arms alone.”

You looked down at your stomach, tossing the name around in your mind. “Welcome to the family, Morgan Gideon Reid.”

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