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#am I allowed to talk about this yet or does the FBI still have it listed as classified?
cheetour · 6 months
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i like when i see a fandom post that goes "People are constantly saying X about Y character and I hate it!!" when "people" are easily an identifiable niche online community of 5-10 people with no influence whatsoever
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hiramaris · 8 months
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Dusk til Dawn
Part 14
Summary: Following Episode 9. And spoilers for Episode 10. 
Author’s note: As Episode 10 is just released I just want to say heads up for those who are not yet finished. Completing the game without spoilers really made a difference, and as much as possible I want everyone to experience that. And for those finished, I’ll gladly welcome you to my domain where MC took a different route.
Disclaimer:  I do not own Duskwood or any of the related characters. Duskwood is created by and owned by Everbyte Studio. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Duskwood story belong to Everbyte Studio.
Warning: Mentions of blood, suicide, violence, pedophiles, drugs, gun, murder, sex offenders, kidnapping
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gif from weheartit.com
“Officer Alan! The stream was cut off! And the hatch won’t open!”
“What?! Miss Donfort and Y/n are still there! Go force it open!” Alan was barking orders. From sending more paramedics and firefighters to talking with the newly arrived FBI.
“The fire is spreading fast! Hurry up!”
Urgent shouts filled the air.
Lilly couldn’t comprehend anymore what was happening around her. One moment they were still inside the cabin panicking about Jake and Y/n’s lack of updates since they descended from the shaft and then Jessy got a call from an agent who claimed she was Y/n’s subordinate. Not long after, they were all escorted inside a vehicle along with the rest of Y/n’s squad.
They couldn’t understand what was happening. Why was the FBI here? Did Y/n contact them to finally capture Jake? But that’s unlikely, you would never do that to him. So just why?
The woman who contacted Jessy must have noticed the look of confusion among their group and began to explain. “Our Chief likes to do everything on their own. You can imagine how stressful that might be for our squad,” Agent Hartmann chuckled wryly. “But they mean well. We just wish they'd allow us to help more. After all, we're a team.” Her gaze hardened. “Now Chief L/n needs our help more than ever. That’s why we are here.”
“Did Y/n inform you of their location?” Cleo voiced the question that was likely on everyone's mind.
The raven-haired agent shook her head, her expression serious. “We tracked them.” She motioned all five of them to follow her to the back of the vehicle to see loads of computers and gadgets set up to perfection. If Lilly were to imagine Jake’s setup, it would probably look like this. “Did you finally manage to breach into our culprit’s laptop, Aerith?”
A redheaded woman swiveled her chair to face them, fingers dancing across the keyboard as she worked on her screens. “Affirmative,” she confirmed before returning to her task. “The guy doesn't even have a password on his computer. Seriously, who does that?” She scoffed as she manipulated the keyboards, bringing up multiple camera feeds. One screen displayed a blinking red dot on what appeared to be a map—presumably Y/n's location.
However, it was one particular monitor that seized their attention, and Lilly's heart sank at the sight.
A hand suddenly clutched Lilly's shoulder. “Lilly…” Jessy's voice trembled as she whispered, her eyes fixed on the monitor. “Why is Richy pointing a gun at Y/n?”
Agent Hartmann swiftly made her way to the driver's seat, her urgency palpable. “Viktor, we need to hurry!”
A loud screech of tires brought Lilly back to the present moment as another vehicle came to a sudden halt, and she strained to see through the commotion. Lilly could see Agent Hartmann, who had been in a heated discussion with Alan for a while, go pale as a tall figure emerged from the vehicle. The man was easily surrounded by men wearing the same uniform as Y/n's squad.
It didn't take long for her to realize that this must be the Director they had mentioned earlier. His presence seemed to command attention effortlessly.
Identifying him was not difficult. His deliberate, measured steps and the pristine condition of his black suit, along with his impeccably styled blonde hair, marked him as a man of authority. Even without doing anything, an aura of power seemed to radiate from him.
Shit. Lilly's mind raced. What could the Director be doing here? Her anxiety surged as she watched the unfolding scene.
Not long after, a gunshot rang out, followed by the harsh, echoing sound of metal striking the ground. The men who had been gathered around the hatch, attempting to force it open earlier, scattered to the sides.
Smoke rose from the newly opened hatch, obscuring the view. However, through the haze, the unmistakable silhouettes of two figures can be seen.
Tears welled up in Lilly's eyes, and all the emotions she had been trying to hold back since the FBI had dropped them off overwhelmed her. She watched, her heart pounding, as Hannah and you emerged from the hatch. You held a Glock in your other hand, which you had probably used to open the hatch, while your other arm was wrapped around Hannah's shoulders as she helped you walk.
However, before they could race toward the two of you, you were both escorted to the paramedics. The men surrounding the Director began to disperse and held Lilly and the others back, preventing them from approaching your location.
“Let me go!” Thomas bellows as he struggles to get past the agent. “Hannah! Hannah!” But the man didn’t budge. Thomas yanks him by his collar. “That’s my girlfriend!”
The agent, maintaining a stern demeanor, responded, “we understand, sir. But we can’t let you in just yet. Especially Chief Y/l/n is gravely injured.”
“B-but…” Jessy sniffed. She has been crying nonstop since they arrived here. “You already forbid us to see Richy and Jake. Now Hannah and Y/n?!”
“Ma’am, you need to understand.” The agent prompted indifferently. “Three of them are injured and Miss Donfort is still shaken up. So, please. Just give us a moment. We will let you see them once we’re through.”
“Damn,” Dan mutters, his shoulder slumping.
“We understand, sir,” Cleo responded, her voice cracking didn’t go unnoticed by Lilly.
Cleo urges them to back up a bit to the side despite the general protests from the gang. It was significantly far from Y/n and Hannah’s position, but they could still see them from here. Lilly is glad that despite the situation, Cleo was able to keep a level head which is exactly what the group needs right now because honestly speaking? Lilly is on the verge of going to her sister herself.
“Unfucking believable.” Dan rasped out.
“We need to calm down, okay?” Cleo faced them. “The more we resist, the more they won’t allow us to see them.”
“I just don’t understand!” Thomas couldn't contain his frustration. He covered his face with his hand, voice strained, “Why can’t they just let us see them? We’re not just some bystanders! For god’s sake, Hannah’s sister is here, too! At the very least, they should have let Hannah see Lilly!”
Lilly began to zone out as her eyes focused on where Hannah and you were. She can see your squad dotting on you as they carry you to the paramedics. Lilly’s mouth went dry as she noticed the numerous bruises and cuts on your body. And with your clothes being black, it's hard to make out any other wounds beneath them but the droplets of blood trickling down on the ground from what seems to be a wound on your abdomen already tells her you have a serious wound.
And Hannah…
Hannah seemed to be okay. Apart from her smoke-etched face and slight scratches from her arms, there don’t seem to be any noticeable wounds on her. Thank God.
But the look of sheer horror is written all over her face. She looked emotionally wrecked. The blanket and what seemed to be a mug of warm drink did little to Hannah’s shaking form. She had stopped crying, but her eyes were puffy and grim as she focused her sole attention on Y/n as the paramedics began to treat their wounds. If Hannah had noticed Lilly and the group, she didn’t show; not daring them any single glance.
Hannah’s still shaken; Lilly noted. Who wouldn’t? What happened down there was fucked up. And despite the irresistible urge to approach their place, Lilly knew deep down they wouldn’t be able to give much help.
****
It felt like ages before any of these people acknowledged their group. Jessy only allowed herself to breathe freely when she saw you stand up from the stretcher. The paramedics had you remove your shirt to treat your wounds, and now your whole torso was almost covered by gauze. There was still a glaring red stain on your right side despite the blood being stopped by the bandages. Your head was also wrapped with bandages, but the dried blood from the side of your head had been cleaned now. You seemed okay now, too, better than earlier when Jessy had almost thought you weren't breathing at all.
Once Agent Hartmann gave them the signal, Jessy practically raced towards you. You only have seconds to react on time when Jessy’s body collided with yours in a searing embrace. It didn’t last longer than she would have preferred because she heard you groan in pain, only realizing she held you a little too tight, earning one member of the paramedics to admonish her.
“I’m okay, I’m okay…” you managed to say amid grunts as you gently pulled her back into your arms. Jessy is careful now to not put any pressure on your wounds.
“Damn, Y/n!” Dan made a move to slap you lightly on your arm, but Jessy swatted his hands away, daring him to continue. “Geez, I just want to praise them.”
After ensuring you were okay, Jessy turned her attention to Hannah, who throughout the whole ordeal remained staring from the distance. Even when Lilly, Thomas, and Cleo tried to embrace her, she flinched away, unconsciously gravitating closer to you. Lilly and Cleo quickly understood and gave her space, but Thomas was a bit persistent in trying to comfort her. Just as he was about to reach out to her, Hannah scampered away, seeking refuge practically behind you, whimpering softly.
Thomas quickly withdrew his hands like he was burned, finally getting the message. “Hannah...?” He questioned, a hurt expression crossed his face at the thought of his girlfriend flinching away from him.
“Hannah,” Jessy started carefully. But when Hannah darted her eyes to her with a fearful look, Jessy closed her mouth shut.
“Uh…” you begin as you start shielding Hannah behind you away from their prying eyes. You only stopped moving when you were able to create a significant distance between both of you and the gang. “She’s still shaken up.”
“Hannah… no one’s gonna hurt you anymore,” Lilly finally spoke after a long while. She was practically begging for her sister to talk to them. And despite the guilty feeling rising in Jessy’s chest at the notion that she was far more worried about Y/n than her friend, she couldn’t help but notice how Hannah was holding onto Y/n’s arms like some sort of lifeline. And from the look on Thomas’ face, she knew he noticed it too.
“What happened inside…" you trailed off, shaking your head. "It was horrible. Give her some time.”
Thomas began to open his mouth, likely to voice his protest, but the man from earlier returned. Jessy watched as you visibly stiffened at the sight of him. Despite any discomfort, you tried to stand straight, fighting back the wince that threatened to cross your face as you attempted to salute. “Director,” you greeted, your voice steady.
“Agent L/n.” The Director replied, his voice a few notches lower.
His cold cobalt eyes bore into yours, and Jessy observed as you, for the first time, seemed to shrink in your place. It might have been imperceptible to others, but Jessy can easily see through your facade. That despite trying to battle the eyes of your own superior, fear can still be seen etched from your eyes.
“Agents,” the Director cleared his throat to address his men, but his gaze never left you. “I need a private moment with Agent L/n, if you may. You can assist Agent Hartmann and the others in securing the hacker and the mechanic. Do make sure they are patched up accordingly before you do so. After all,” he added with a small smirk that made your expression harden, “we are not that cruel.”
Jessy and the others visibly bristled at how the Director referred to their friends. What did he mean by ‘restrained’?
Richy may have done something horrible but that doesn't make him a terrible person! And Jake! Y/n has stated he was wanted with the same people they are working with. What happens to him now?
This is the only time Hannah acknowledges the Director's presence. Her eyes widened and there was obvious panic in them. Lilly almost wore the same expression. Jessy's not entirely sure but they are probably just as shocked about the words that flew from the Director's mouth.
“Everyone,” you said, commanding their attention. Everyone but the Director was surprised at your sudden change of demeanor and tone. It was cold and calculating. There was barely any trace of emotions that could be seen in your eyes and that scared Jessy. “Please give us a moment.”
For a brief moment, nobody moved, and silence enveloped the atmosphere.
“Now, please,” you stressed. You turned towards Hannah, giving her what Jessy assumed was an encouraging nod. Hannah seemed to understand and let herself be guided by Lilly a little further to Y/n's location.
“What the hell was that?” Dan was the first to react. “Richy's a douche I know, and Hackerman's weird and all but what the fuck? What are they going to do with them? Is Y/n going to let something happen to them?”
“Calm down,” Cleo interjected. “I'm sure Y/n wouldn't let anything happen to them.”
“If they are going to arrest them,” Hannah spoke for the first time. Her eyes are a bit different now. Despite the tears staining her cheeks, there's a subtle fire in them. “They should arrest me, too. After what...” She shook her head as she fought the tears from coming. Thomas instinctively tried to reach out to her but— “DON'T TOUCH ME!” She shrieked and everyone froze.
Hannah had never been one to raise her voice. Actually, the words ‘shouting’ and ‘Hannah’ are two completely different concepts. It was quite hard to picture the past Hannah to the Hannah in front of them now. But Jessy couldn't really blame her if this whole ordeal changed her.
Her outburst was loud enough to capture your and the Director's attention. Jessy could see that you wanted to go to them, but it seemed you were in the middle of a heated discussion, even if it didn't look like it.
“Don't touch me,” Hannah repeated with a sob. Now quieter that it was barely audible. Thomas, once again retreated back, clutching his hands as if to physically stop him from doing something. “We're murderers, okay?! And we deserve to be in prison if that's what they want!”
“Hannah, honey...” Cleo took a cautious step but didn't dare to touch her. Tears glistened in Cleo's eyes as she struggled to find the right words. “None of that. We heard everything. Ted's responsible to...” Cleo paused, not wanting to bring out Jennifer's name in the middle of Hannah's outburst, “to everything that happened. Not you. Not Richy...”
“You don't get it!" Hannah cried. “Accident or not, we moved the body. Can't you see how sick that is?!” She turned to Thomas, her eyes searching for any sign of his feelings, her chest heaving with emotion. “What do you think about me now, huh? Do you still want to stay with someone like me?! Do you still think I can be able to tell you something like that and expect you to accept it?! Were you disappointed when you got to know me? The real me?!”
“Hannah!” Lilly bellowed, her voice cutting through the heated exchange. “Enough!”
“But that's the truth!” Hannah shouted back with a bitter laugh, her voice trembling with emotion. “You all probably go all through all this trouble just to find out your sister, your lover, and your friend was a murderer all along.” She looked at each of them in turn, her eyes filled with pain. “Can you really say that it was all worth it?”
“Y/n and Jake go through the lengths of the world just to get you back to us.” Jessy finally spoke. Her tone wasn't angry or argumentative. She was trying to make her understand. “Try to look at them and tell yourself that what they did is meaningless.”
Hannah went silent, her shoulders slumping as she wiped away her tears.
“It wasn't at all meaningless. I admit that we weren't exactly prepared for the truth.” Jessy went on, taking a tentative step closer. “But we go on as before. All we ever wanted was to find you, and that already meant something. And that something is you. You're our friend Hannah. You and Richy may have done a terrible thing, but that doesn't mean you're terrible people.”
“You don't understand...” Hannah's head shook slowly, her voice filled with despair. “After what happened... even if I could go back, I wouldn't belong here anymore.”
Jessy placed a hesitant hand on Hannah’s shoulder, and this time, Hannah didn’t resist. “It's okay if you don't accept it just yet, but please do remember,” Jessy said softly, her eyes filled with empathy. “We didn't go through all this for nothing.”
****
“We will take the hacker into custody,” you announced as you approached them, Alan following closely behind you. Your agents moved with practiced efficiency, swiftly dragging a barely conscious Jake toward a waiting black SUV, its engine idling and the doors held open by two agents.
“Y/n!” Lilly exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief. Her eyes darted between you and the vehicle. “What the hell?”
“As for the case of Miss Donfort and Mister Roger,” you continued, maintaining a composed demeanor amidst your friends' shock, "we will have to discuss it further at the Headquarters."
You could feel their stares burning into your back, but you resisted the urge to turn around. And for the sake of your own self-preservation, you didn't turn to witness Jake being ushered into the van. You didn't want to see the betrayal in his eyes.
“I expect to see you in my office, Officer Bloomgate,” you added, addressing the man beside you.
Alan almost scoffed. “Just earlier, I was inviting you to my precinct, not the other way around. But I will see you there, Agent L/n.”
“And the media?” you asked.
“We'll handle them.”
“You better make sure,” you replied, your gaze fixed on the van as it prepared to depart. Not daring to meet the eyes of your friends, all bewildered and questioning your actions.
“Y/n…” You felt Lilly tug your arm to face her. “What the hell is happening? Why was Jake–” she couldn't finish her sentence. “I thought…”
“I will handle him,” you answered as truthfully as you could. You turned to Hannah who wore the same expression as Lilly. “don’t worry. I got everything under control, okay?”
“Okay…” she nodded, her mind still clearly racing with confusion.
Your eyes briefly caught the Director's gaze, and you knew it was time to go. Despite the pain surging through your body, you straightened up. “Officer Bloomgate will explain everything to you.”
With that, you forced yourself to leave, but you were well aware of how stubborn your friends were. They wouldn't back down easily, and you could feel their questioning eyes on your back as you walked away.
“Y/n! Hold the fuck up.”
You sighed, not daring to turn around. “Mister Anderson, as I said–”
“Drop the formalities, Y/n, you know that’s crap!” Dan shouted as he tried to follow you with his wheelchair, frustration, and anger clear in his voice and demeanor.
With a deep breath, you willed yourself to continue walking. The vehicle's engine rumbled softly in the background, a stark contrast to the tension in the air. As your foot finally touched the cold, hard floor of the vehicle, a hand shot up to grab you back, and you turned to face a very angry redhead. A crack seemed to appear in your façade, and you desperately tried to fix it before Jessy noticed anything.
“You’re leaving?” she asked, her voice dripping with disbelief, the words echoing in the confined space of the vehicle. Her eyes bore into yours, demanding answers. “You’re just going to leave without saying goodbye?”
“Miss Hawki–”
“No!” She cut you off vehemently, her words laced with frustration. “You don’t get to call me that! What is wrong with you? What happened? Was it the Director? Did he tell you something? Did he threaten–”
This time, you silenced her with your lips, a brief and intense kiss that tasted like a mixture of desperation and farewell. It was a dangerous move, and you knew it. You knew you shouldn't. You knew the risk. You had convinced yourself that it was better to leave without saying anything. The less you opened your mouth, the less you'd screw this up. But seeing Jessy this way, almost broken and full of questions, almost broke down your resolve.
You knew to yourself that you just couldn't allow yourself to leave without saying the words to her.
The night air hung heavy with tension as you drew close, your lips almost touching hers. "I love you," you all but whispered to her lips, the words a fragile promise, a plea. You hoped she heard it, felt it, and understood the depth of those words. "Trust me."
With that, you gently pried her fingers away from you as you finally entered the waiting vehicle. The engine hummed to life once more, vibrating beneath you, and the door closed with a soft thud. As the vehicle pulled away, you couldn't help but steal one last look, seeing her standing there as Lilly and Cleo tried to hold her back from even following after you.
Your heart broke at the sight.
"Are you okay?" You felt a hand squeeze your shoulder.
"Yeah..." You answered absentmindedly. Charlotte took that as her cue to leave. Leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You left her. Leaving her nothing but a chaste kiss and two words. Two words you badly hope she will hold.
She didn’t have to believe the three words you uttered. After all, you just left. But you hoped she believed the two words. There was so much you wanted to say, so many emotions you wanted to convey, but you were afraid that no words would suffice for you to stay. It’s the only thing you could say at the moment. It’s the only thing you could give.
It was funny, in a bitter way, to think that Jessy only needed to be herself and nothing else for you to love her like this. It never took too much to love her. But it took everything in your willpower to even step away.
As you settled into the vehicle, your eyes glanced at the moon on the horizon, its pale light fading as the sun began to rise. You couldn't help but laugh quietly to yourself, a hollow, rueful sound. Like the moon, you left as quickly as you came.
You left.
And you didn’t come back for a long time.
~~~~~
Previous
A/n: Apologies for the wait. I lost track of time from the past days reading some awesome fanfictions. Anyway, I was wondering if I should end it here. Actually, I'm already thinking of ending it here, and possibly starting another series or providing one-shots or drabbles or prompts whichever y'all prefer in the same verse so let me know what y'all think. Also, I'm not really certain if I have given this story a satisfactory ending so I would really appreciate hearing your thoughts about it.
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marvelcriminalhoe · 3 years
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Stumbling West
Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Chapter 5
What They Say About Bikes
chapter summery: Training, dating, and bike rides.  i.e. season 7, episode 10 TW: talks of blood, death, typical criminal minds case jargon word count: 2,503
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Your lungs are on fire. With every breath you take, every time your lungs expand and deflate, the fire spreads, getting warmer, hotter. The coldish air still lingering in the morning daze outside does not help with the fire raging inside, and this is all Jack Garrett’s fault.
Though, he would tell you that you actually just need to run more, and he wouldn’t be wrong, but you don’t usually run 5 miles, in 60 degree weather, first thing in the morning. You haven’t even had your cup of coffee yet.
You also don’t run 5 miles in the field, so you don’t beat yourself up too much, for being so winded this morning.
Jack Garrett convinced you to run the FBI triathlon with him in a few months, with the promises that it would A. Be fun, B. Allow you guys to workout together, and C. Give you something to brag about.
But right now you are A. Not having fun, B. Having to workout alone because Jack is on a case, and C. Not bragging, because you realize you suck and instead will probably make a fool of yourself.
You finally finish your last lap around the park closest to your apartment, coming to a complete stop and resting your hands on your knees.
That’s supposed to help you breathe better right? Or are you supposed to put them on your head?
As you are debating the best method of getting the most oxygen back into your body, a pair of black running shoes come into your line of vision. Slowly ranking your eyes up the persons body to see who this intruder of space is, you come into contact with none other than Aaron fucking Hotchner, in all of his amazing glory.
See, your small attraction you had on your stoic, and yet, surprisingly charming boss, has slowly grown into a full blown, am I back in middle school, type of crush. Maybe it’s all of the sarcastic comments he makes under his breath during cases, that only you can here, or perhaps it has something to do with all those late nights you’ve been spending in his office, helping him with paperwork while bonding over Chinese takeout, or maybe, it’s that he is so attractive, and he doesn’t even know it, that it just makes him even more attractive.
He might be the person your closest to on the team. You’re both sarcastic, workaholics, with control issues. You are able to bond over similar trauma in a way no one else on the team would understand, except for maybe Rossi.
You’ve opened up to him a little about your late husband Zack. How you met your second year of college, his last, how you quickly fell in love, and, despite both of your parents wishes, we’re married 5 months later. He joined the CIA a year after your marriage, which would inevitably, lead to the catastrophic downfall of your relationship.
He similarly, opens up to about Haylee. How they met in high school and got married after graduating. How hard it was when he decided to leave his prosecution job and join the FBI. How scared he was when he found out she was pregnant with Jack.
Though, neither of you have opened up about the events of their deaths. The pain of losing your spouses, years before someone should. You both know each others stories, his from the team gossip, and yours from your file. Instead your talks are more about a bittersweet reminiscing, with someone that will actually understand, without the fear that they will push a boundary you aren’t ready for. You know it’s been 2 years for him since he lost Haylee, and going on 4 years for you, since you lost Zack, but theres not this pressure to talk about something you don’t want to. Boundaries were set long before either of you knew each other, and that safety in your relationship, is something you didn’t even know you needed.
He clears his throat, drawing you away from your thoughts, and you realize you’ve been staring at him like a fish out of water. He has a cocky little smirk on his face that makes you either want to roll your eyes or kiss it off.
You go for the former option. Sadly.
You take in his attire, running shorts and a fitted running long sleeve, that’s pushed passed his elbows, he doesn’t appear to be out of breath, and you can’t help but be envious, “Have you just started?”
His cocky smirk turns into an amused grin, “No. Just finished 6 miles.”
You frown at him.
6 miles. 6 miles and he looks like that? Did he even break a sweat? Does he even know what sweat is?
Scoffing, you can’t help but roll your eyes again, “Who are you, Jason Bourne? Why aren’t you out of breath like me? I ran one less mile than you.”
Laughing, he ignores your question for one of his own, “Why are you running 5 miles on a cold morning?”  
You put your hands on your hips, breathing better than a few minutes before, “Garrett convinced me to run some stupid triathlon with him in a few months. But now I’m forced to workout alone because if he’s not on a case, we are.”
Hotch raises an eyebrow at you, “That wouldn’t happen to be the FBI triathlon, would it?”
“Yeah.” You tell him questioningly, before it clicks in your brain, “No way. You’re doing it to? Oh that’s just great. Is everyone that’s doing it as in shape as you? Because I might as well drop out now.”
He laughs, shaking his head at you, “You’re not dropping out, I’m sure you’ll do fine. You still have a few months to train.”
“I’ve been training for the last 2 already.” You deadpan.
He grimaces, “How’s your swimming and biking?”
“Swimming is the best, my dad lives on the lake so I can practice in open water, though I’ll need to move indoors soon with the weather dropping. My biking is okay, we don’t have much time to really do that with our job and it’s faster to squeeze a run in before work.”
He nods along with you, “I feel the same way. My swimming is okay, I go to the Y, but my biking could use some work.” He places his hand on his hips, looking at you up and down, taking you all in, “Do you need some water?”
Oh my god he really is an angel.
“Please.” You graciously accept.
He nods towards the parking lot, silently telling you to follow him to his car. You both make light chatter about your mornings and where you usually run. Apparently this is also where he runs, his apartment being 5 minutes away, yours 10, just both in opposite directions.
When you get to his SUV he opens the back and grabs one of the water bottles from the case he keeps back there, for you, before also grabbing one for himself.
You take it gratefully, the water soothing any left over burn in your throat, before Hotch sets his own water down, clearing his throat, “You know, if you ever want to train together, I plan on going to a bike trail-“ He gets cut off from finishing, when his phone rings. Pulling it out of his pocket he shows you the screen. Garcia.
Bad guys ruin everything.
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“Wait so you asked her out?” Rossi questions him
Aaron knew he shouldn’t have said anything, Rossi is not subtle, and he has been hinting at him, more like demanding him, for the past few weeks to make a move on you. He’s refusing to take the excuse that Aaron is your boss and that it would be extremely inappropriate.
“I didn’t ask her out, we bumped into each other and she’s training for the same triathlon.” Hotch repeats himself.
Rossi scoffs at him, “Oh come on Aaron, that’s your in!”
“That is not my in.” Aaron deadpans. “I need to focus on my training, not be distracted.”
“Yes, you should be distracted, distraction is good. Office romance even better, take it form someone who’s had a few.” Rossi argues.
Aaron rolls his eyes at him, not dignifying his comment with a response, though that doesn’t stop Rossi from making another one, “And you know what they say about riding a bicycle.”
That makes Aaron give his friend an exhausted look as they both walk into the conference room.
“Who’s getting a Bicycle?” Reid asks from his spot by you. Aaron is praying his cheeks don’t heat up as he watches you look up at Reid confused, not having heard the conversation between Aaron and Rossi.
“Nobody.” Aaron has to try and not clear his throat, that would be a giveaway, “Let’s get started.”
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You are sitting on the couch with JJ on the plane, while Garcia is on the laptop cam, Rossi, Reid, Emily, and Derek, at the table.
“Ok, Rossi, out with it.” Garcia draws your attention from the tablet in your hands, “Is Hotch dating?”
Rossi leans forward, “I. Don’t. Know.”
“You know statistically, widowed men start dating much faster than females, but Hotch is refuting the data. It's been two years and nineteen days.” You don’t even question Reid when he gives you the exact amount of time.
“Leave it alone.” You tell the gossip table, going back to your tablet. Honestly, you don’t want to talk about if he’s dating or not. Your stupid crush making you jealous at the idea that it could be true.
Wouldn’t he tell you? Maybe you’re not as close as you thought. Is that what your upset about? No.
Your command doesn’t stop Garcia from continuing the conversation as if she never heard you, “Venus has aligned with Mars which means love is in the air and maybe we will have weekends off.”
You see Hotch out of the corner of your eye, come out of the cockpit from talking to the pilot, and Derek clears his throat to try and stop Garcia, though he’s not fast enough, “What? Is he standing there? He's standing there isn't he?”
He leans down so she can see him, “Hello Garcia.” Before he takes a seat on the arm of the couch by you.
You both make eye contact, yours giving away amusement, his mock exhaustion, before Garcia begs someone to start talking about the case.
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“I talked to the M.E. It turns out Sam was hit with a pipe about 10 times. Bruce was beaten over 30.” Reid tells you and Hotch as he walks into the conference room you were given at the precinct.
“That’s a drastic change.” You state, “Could be from the adrenaline.”
Hotch furrows his brows, continuing off of your thought, “Or an extremely high endurance level.”
“Could be overkill.” Derek says walking into the room with JJ.
“Doesn’t that usually mean there’s a personal relationship?” You ask, no one in particular.
Hotch nods at you, “If the victims didn’t know each other, it’s unlikely the unsub knew them.”
JJ crosses her arms, “So what would account for this level of blood-letting?”
“It could be about the blood itself.” Reid supply’s, “If he’s enjoying the killing, then he’s getting aroused by it and developing a kind of blood lust.”
You can’t control how your face scrunches up at the thought, as Hotch side eyes you. You see a ghost of a smile painting his face, his clear amusement for your antics.
Worth being grossed out.
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Your at your desk, the case wrapping up fairly quickly, as you see Rossi leave Hotch’s office. He has a satisfied smile on his face, so you know whatever argument they may have had, he won.
You gather your after action report, along with everyone else’s, (they left them with you so they wouldn’t have to face Hotch after the plane embarrassment.) and make your way up to his office.
You knock on the door panel as He hangs up the phone gesturing you in, “Here’s all the reports.”
Raising an eyebrow at you he asks, “How did you get stuck turning everyone’s in?”
“They pulled seniority.” You reply flatly, but there’s no malice in your voice.
He gives you a soft smile and you return one, before turning around to head out the door. Your stopped by Hotch clearing his throat, making you turn back around with a questioning gaze.
“I was wondering, if your not busy tomorrow, if you would like to go on a bike ride.” His voice is soft, and if you weren’t a profiler, you would have missed the slight waver in the beginning.
Is he nervous?
He continues before you have the chance to answer him, “I just know you said you don’t have a lot of time for biking.”
You nod your head a few times, before giving him a shy smile, “Yeah. What time should I meet you?”
He looks almost shocked you agreed, before quickly masking it, “Is 9 good?”
“It’s perfect. See you then.” Really praying he can’t tell how flustered you are by him as you turn away, he only makes you more flustered by the whispered, “See you,” you hear as you walk out the door.
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You and Hotch are both competitive. Extremely competitive. And what you were thinking would be a peaceful bike ride, quickly turned into a bike race, which you sadly lost.
But, you did just spend you an hour in the park, with your very attractive boss, who is in very attractive bike shorts, where he was smiling, the whole time. So you’re not too torn up about loosing.
You are now at a coffee shop, splitting a big muffin together, “Oh please, you completely cut me off at the end so I couldn’t pass you.”
Hotch chuckles at you, “You could have passed if you were determined.”
“And get whacked by a tree? No thank you.” Causing you both to laugh.
“I had fun today.” He tells you, very softly as if it was a secret he wasn’t sure he wanted to share.
Smiling at him, you speak the same way, “Me to, Hotch”
“Aaron.”
“Pardon?” You question, not thinking you heard him right.
“You can call me Aaron, outside of work.” You can tell he is unsure with himself, so you reach across the table and grab the piece of muffin that was in his hand, before repeating yourself, “Alright. I had a good time with you today to, Aaron.” Eating the piece of muffin you stole.
He shakes his head at your antics, “I was going to suggest doing this again, but I don’t know if I can be around someone who steals my breakfast.”
You lean towards the table, taking another piece of the muffin, “It’s called sharing, Aaron, get used to it.”
And little do you know, Aaron thinks to himself, I already have.
215 notes · View notes
lipstickstainz · 3 years
Text
true lies - s. r. (12/?)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Series Summary: Spencer is furious, when you rejoin the team after a year and after you left him, when he got arrested. Little does he know, that you leaving him was the only option to ever get him out of prison.
Chapter Summary: A collection of letters Spencer and you share while you're gone - and then you're gone forever. At least, that what he thinks.
Warnings: some fluff, angst, angst, angst, smoking, slight ptsd, grief and loss
Word Count: 2.2k
A/N: I'm sososososo sorry. please don't hate me. I love you. gif not mine.
Series Masterlist
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previous part
Dearest little bear,
two months have passed since you had to leave, and not a day goes by that I don't think of you and wish you were here with me.
We are trying to do everything in our power to be able to bring you back home. But unfortunately, it seems to be taking longer than I would like.
I was told you were working on it as well. You are strong and smart and even though you can't be with me, I'm sure we can do it together.
Take care of yourself.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dearest Neruda,
I was very happy to receive your message. I always carry it with me, although I would rather be in your arms, but I can't.
I can't tell you where I am right now, but still I wish you were with me. It is warm and beautiful and I am sure you would like it here very much.
Except for these letters, I'm not allowed to talk to any of you, but I like talking to you best anyway. We've come this far. And we'll make it.
Thinking of you.
With love,
little bear
-
Dearest little bear,
It's been four months and with each passing second it becomes more unbearable. But a light is appearing at the end of the dark tunnel. We think we know who she is.
It won't be long before we can see each other again. And I can't wait to be able to hug you again. To be able to touch you. Or kiss you.
Not much longer. And then nothing can separate us.
Take care of yourself.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dearest Neruda,
It would have been too good to be with you again at last. But it still takes time.
I have found something that can help us, but for now, just know that I will do everything I can so that I can return home. Back to you. No matter what it costs.
Keep your eyes open. We're closer than you think.
I'm thinking of you.
With love,
little bear
-
Dearest little bear,
I was given time off to take a break. I was with my mother and she told me that a kind young lady had been here. She doesn't remember you, but she knows you are familiar and that she can trust you. As I do.
I am infinitely grateful. And I'm tired of waiting, but for you I do. For you, I do it all.
Take care of yourself.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dearest Neruda,
I can no longer grasp a clear thought, because whenever I close my eyes I see everything I have done in review. I can hardly sleep and the nightmares plague me.
I just hope that everything will end soon. It has already been a year since we saw each other. I can't promise you anything, but I hope you know that everything I had to do was for you. For us.
Thinking of you.
With love,
little bear
-
Dearest little bear,
it's been a few weeks since I've heard from you. I hope you are doing well.
We have found a trail that will take us further.And brings me a little closer to you. And that will bring you back home. I can't wait.
Take care of yourself.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dearest little bear,
It's been two months since you wrote to me.
Get back to me as soon as you can.
Take care of yourself.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dearest little bear,
Words cannot describe how much I miss you. Or how great the pain in my chest is.
I can't eat, I can't sleep. I can hardly breathe without you.
Thinking of you.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dearest little bear,
they hung your picture today. In the portrait you are smiling, proud to finally be part of the team. I can't look at it.
I was sent home, but everything there reminds me of you.
Thinking of you.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dearest little bear,
I keep your letters in a small box next to my bed. They are a part of you that I don't want to lose, even though I have already lost you. They are a part of you, just as you are a part of me.
Thinking of you.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dearest little bear,
I went to our bookstore and found a book of poems that you would like. I'll put it with your letters.
No book in the world could have prepared me for the grief I feel. The pain is too engaging for me to talk about it with anyone but you.
Thinking of you.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dear little bear,
it's been almost two years since we last saw each other. I don't remember what you sound like, or what you smell like. Why can't I remember that? Is it wrong of me not to think it's bad? It takes away my pain a little.
Thinking of you.
With love,
Neruda
-
Dear little bear,
A lot has happened in the two years we've been apart. Too much to ever be able to write down all the things. I just want you to know that this time was not easy for me. Not for any of us.
I put your letters away safely because you will always be important to me. But I have to let you go. And with this, I release you.
I love you. Forever.
With love,
Neruda
-
You pinch your leg to wake up. Your neck is wet with cold sweat and you have to blink several times to realize that you are in a cab. You run your hand through your hair as the driver looks at you curiously through the rearview mirror. He says nothing, which is why you glance out the window.
The drive from the airport to Quantico only takes an hour, but you still take the opportunity to close your eyes for a moment and doze a little. You haven't had a decent night's sleep in ages, you don't even know what a healthy portion of sleep feels like anymore, because you haven't had that luxury in the last two years.
As the car comes to a stop in front of the FBI building, you pay the driver and get out with your small bag. The building seems much bigger than you remember. You used to spend every day here, it had once been your home. But now you're not even sure you have a home anymore.
You take a deep breath and enter through the large doors, but are directly approached by a security guard.
"Miss? Are you visiting?", he asks suspiciously, extending his arm to keep you at a distance - something that wouldn't do him much good if you were actually trying to get past him.He eyes you up and down, which you can't blame him for. In your ripped jeans, dirty sneakers, and loose sweater, you don't look like someone who belongs here. By now, you don't either.
You look at him. "I'm here to see Unit Chief Prentiss", you reply coolly. You know he's just doing his job, but you're too impatient to let all this wash over you. You know Emily is already in the office. You know her too well not to. Why doesn't he just go get her? You just want to see your friend.
"Chief Prentiss?" He raises an eyebrow. "And what is your request?"
Your gaze is rock hard and your tone cold as ice. "Tell her Y/N Y/L/N is here to see her."
You wait outside the building, letting the morning sun warm your skin and the cigarette burn between your fingers before you put it to your lips and take a drag. Afterwards, you stub it out on a trash can. As you exhale the last bit of smoke, you turn around. And there she is.
Emily is standing at the door, and when you see her, you drop your bag and wrap her in your arms so tightly that you can't breathe. You cling to her, afraid that maybe this whole thing isn't as real as it feels, but you imperceptibly pinch your arm. And she is still with you.
"I thought - they said", she stammers, and it's the first time in your friendship that she's speechless. You hug her even tighter.
"I know", you answer softly, blinking away the tears that have formed in your eyes. The moment is too beautiful to cry. As you break away from each other, Emily wipes her own tears from her cheeks, but some have already landed on her blouse. There are dark stains now.
"I don't even know what to say", she says, smiling at you as you enter the building together. The guard gives you a look, but doesn't ask any questions as you walk past him toward the elevator. Inside, she pushes a button that takes you to the BAU floor. "I can hardly believe you're really here."
Neither can you.
The office is completely silent because no one is here yet except for you. Although nothing has changed, everything has changed because you are now someone else. It's been a long time since you've been here. Two years, but everything in this room is all too familiar to you. The coffee machine, the law books, the files. It feels like you've never been away. It's déjà vu all over again.
While Emily gets you both coffee, you sit down at the round table and wait for her. Your friend sets the cups down on the table before sitting down next to you. She smiles faintly. "How are you?"
You pucker your mouth. How are you? You haven't been asked that question in ages, and to be honest, you don't know how to answer it either. How could you possibly be?
When you don't answer Emily, she phrases her question differently. "What are you feeling right now?"
Your lips become a thin line. "I don't know. It feels like all of this," you point to the room, "isn't a part of me anymore. Nothing has changed, but it still feels foreign."
Emily nods. "You've been through a lot, I guess." She takes a sip of her coffee. "You're right, Y/N. Nothing has really changed here. But you're a different one now, aren't you?"
You open your mouth to answer her, but you don't know what either. Part of you feels at home here, but a bigger part of you knows your place is somewhere else. You just don't know where exactly.
"Do you want to see the others?", Emily asks. "I'm asking you because it's been a long time since you've seen them. And they think you're...you know. Are you ready for that?"
Are you ready for that? You haven't seen either of them in a long time, and it would probably be better not to see them for now, but to let Emily sort it out first. But the team is your family - the closest thing you have to a family. And you've missed them all terribly.
You nod and take a sip of your coffee as JJ and Rossi enter the room. When they see you, they glance uncertainly at Emily, as if they're not sure if it's just imagination, but she nods at them. And that's when all the dams break for JJ.
She pulls you from your chair and hugs you like the salvation of the world depends on it, and David has to pry her cramped arms from you so he can put his around you as well. They affirm to you how much they missed you and ask how you are, wanting to know what happened, but Tara and Penelope join them and that's when it gets too loud for you.
Penelope cries with joy and Tara also can't believe that you are standing in front of her. They besiege you and ask you questions to which you have no answers, so you just smile weakly at them. They definitely don't mean any harm, after all, you've just risen from the dead for them, but you've spent the last while in silence and are no longer used to this volume. So you turn away from them. They look anxiously after you as you sort of flee from them. You hope that this will make the headache go away.
Without paying much attention to where you're going, you find yourself facing the wall where the pictures of the deceased agents hang. And yours is hanging there, too. You don't know how long you've been standing in front of it - minutes? hours? -until a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts.
"Y/N?"
You turn around and there stands Spencer. His hair is a little shorter and he looks like he's seen a ghost. Well, he sort of has.
You want to throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, and never let him go. Seeing him knocks the air out of your lungs, which is why you can barely breathe. The two years without him had been hell on earth, but you got through them. For him.
For Spencer, who doesn't take his eyes off you as the blonde woman next to him, whose fingers are intertwined with his, looks at him and asks, "Honey, who's that?"
- tags -
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436 notes · View notes
boldlyvoid · 3 years
Text
New Romantics | Part Three
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18+
Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.
Categories: Fake dating, neighbours, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, Angst with a happy ending, Smut *as selected by my poll on what you wanted to read*
Warnings: Season 9 Spencer (no Maeve arc), Angst, kissing, drinking, police training mentions, case details, canon typical violence, self-doubt, autistic!spencer, age gaps (24/33), FWB relationships, period mentions, anxiety attacks, crying, misunderstandings,
Word Count: 4.7K
a/n: this chapter covers the whole week from Monday to Friday, thank you @awrfhi for making the gif I used here <3
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
Monday morning she’s in his arms still, and then again on Tuesday; he basically lives with her when he’s not on a case. They make dinner together at night and they drive in together every morning, and they have had sex all over her apartment… and he loves her but he was tired when he said it and in a post-orgasm haze and he’s her best friend.
But he loved her— just not the way she loved him. She was sure of it.
Tuesday morning at 10:53 am, she cracks her fake case. They’re apprehending the unsub by Noon and then she has the rest of the week off. So she heads to the main Quantico building, she gets a visitor's pass and she takes the elevator all the way up to the BAU.
She walks through the bullpen doors and Spencer is sitting at his little desk with his head buried in a book. Penelope sees her first, wrapping her up in a hug that gets everyone’s attention as she rocks her back and forth while telling her how much she likes her.
“You are so pretty, and nice and cute, and your hair smells so good?”
“Thank you, it’s Spencer's shampoo,” she laughs as she holds her back, “I just wanted to come and see him really quick?”
He’s standing beside her and she doesn’t even know until Penelope releases her from her grasp. He wraps her up next, “why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
She kisses him right on the mouth, holding his face in her hands she has missed him too much to wait till they are alone again, “I caught the unsub.”
“No way?”
She nods feverishly, “yeah remember I found that stray hair on the crime scene? Everyone was fighting over why there wasn’t a sexual aspect and I was trying to convince them she was a women unsub when the hair came back matching our victims best friend, who also knew victim number 1.”
He’s so happy, his smile is the biggest any of his teammates have ever seen, he lifts her and twirls her around and no one can believe the sight. Spencer Reid the uptight, overly smart, always following proper procedure, Doctor at the FBI; was spinning his girlfriend around as he kissed her cheek.
“You are a genius,” he compliments her as he sets her back down and places another kiss on her lips.
“I know,” she laughs, “I beat your score by one day.”
“I hate you,” he kisses her again and by now they don’t realize they have an audience. It’s incredibly convincing to everyone except each other.
“No, you love me,” she whispers, kissing him again before they hear someone clear their throat.
“Do you want to help with ours?” Derek asks, jumping into the moment and reminding them that they’re in public. “We’re just doing non-urgent consults today.”
“Am I allowed?” She lights up.
Derek nods, “I don’t see why not, as long as you just tell your ideas to us and don’t file anything then I think it’s legal?”
So she helps and it’s the most exhilarating thing since having sex with Spencer. She’s in her element, looking at small details and making connections that even leave Spencer humming and ha-ing. She has a younger insight than the rest of the team, she’s exactly why they hired Spencer in the first place and now she was shining brighter than him.
But he loved it.
Every time she made a connection or she had a suggestion that helped one of them on their own train of thought, Spencer would smile at her like she hung the stars in the night sky. He was proud of her in a way she hasn’t seen in many people before, filling her heart with warmth and hope that maybe he can love her for real one day.
She was possibly the love of his life and the more he saw her work and the more he knew her mind; the more he fell. She walked around his office and talked to his friends as if she was always meant to be there, and a part of him really wanted her to be.
He snuck away to go talk to Hotch, closing his office door as he sat down, “what’s wrong?”
“Y/N isn’t really my girlfriend,” he whispers. “She’s pretending so I could get everyone to stop bothering me about dating, and I understand it looks like she’s using me to get close to the team but I really do think she would be an excellent asset to the unit even if she was just in the office—“
“Reid,” Hotch cuts him off and a smile builds. “I already sent her an offer to take Anderson's job while he’s out on paternity leave.”
“Oh,” he smiles to himself. “Pretend I never said anything.”
“It stays in these 4 walls, don’t worry,” Hotch smiles back, “but you should tell her.”
“Tell her what?”
“That you’re in love with her.”
“I’m not,” he lies, “really, I do love her but I’m not in love with her, there is a difference.”
“I know,” Hotch reminds him. “Did you know that I only joined the school musical to get close to Haley? I did whatever I could to get her to fall in love with me and didn’t even realize it when she did because I was so worried she didn’t.”
“Oh.”
Hotch nods with another smile, “you don’t have to tell her until you’re ready, obviously, but you should tell her before it’s too late.”
“I will,” he whispers. “Thanks, Aaron.”
“Why don’t you guys head out early?” He offers, “we could all use a day off with the people we love.”
When he walks back down from Aaron's office, Y/N is with Emily and JJ discussing how she caught her fake unsub at school that morning. She doesn’t brag, she loves to mention her classmates by name and verbatim explains how they helped her. She is a team player, a genius, beautiful, kind… she really is the love of his life.
“Hey,” he places his hand on her lower back as he slides into the conversation. “Hotch said we can all leave early if we wanted?”
“Sure,” she smiles, “actually, did you want to come with me to buy a dress for your thing?”
“That would be fun,” he agrees, wrapping his other arm around her so he can rest his chin on her shoulder and hold her. “Remember I’m buying it so don’t stress about the price.”
“You’re too nice to me,” she replies.
“I just love you,” his voice is as low as he can make it but everyone still hears.
She holds him back tighter, in a silent ‘I love you, too’ and they hear JJ and Emily swoon.
They’re quick to get their things and head out, she hands Spencer her keys and lets him drive to the mall so she can relax, she’s done a lot today.
She’s so quiet on the drive, she holds his hand like she always does and she just looks out the window, she’s peaceful and content with the nothingness of spending alone time with Spencer. They were always just quiet together, sometimes they laughed till they cried and sometimes he could make her scream but most of the time they were quiet.
“Have you checked your email?”
She smiles as she turns to him and her grip on his hand tightened, “what did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything, I just told hotch the truth so that he could offer you a job, but he already had before I went in there but he’s a good secret keeper, believe me.”
“Oh,” her smile disappears. “So he knows we’re not really dating?”
He nods, “Is that okay?”
“Yeah, I guess we’re going to have to find a convincing way to break up for them and still be able to hang out all the time,” she worries aloud. “Because I don’t want to stop this any time soon, I hope you know that. I really like spending time with you.”
“I feel the same way,” he agrees. “I promise, we can just tell them we work better as friends and they might believe us?”
“I don’t think they will,” she frowns again. “JJ told me not to break your heart today, but I feel like if we break up I’m going to break all of theirs.”
“We could have a fake ugly breakup, and not talk to each other publicly for a bit and then be friends again?” He suggests, “Penelope and Kevin did that.”
She nods, still frowning. She interlocks their fingers this time and she holds his hand instead of just anxiously fiddling with his fingers. She really doesn’t want to let go, and he’s almost convinced she feels the same way.
The banquet is on Saturday, she has one last week of school before her graduation and then they’re done. He thinks about asking her, about what would be the best time to tell her he was in love with her and ask her to be his real girlfriend.
Maybe he’ll do it after the banquet? Maybe he’ll do it after her graduation? He just really wants to do it before she meets his mom. He wants his mom to meet her as the love of his life and his best friend.
He hated many things, but as he kept glancing at her as he drove he realized he hated one thing most of all. He hated that he couldn’t love her as much as she deserved, at least not yet. He wanted to shower her in love, he wanted to protect her and care for her, he wanted to show her off and make love to her and never leave her side.
It hurts, his heart physically aches as he thinks about that. If he had to feel like this to know his love was real, then the pain was worth it. She was always worth it, and he would hurt as long as possible, forever even, if it meant he could be around her just as long.
He held her hand tighter in the silence which made her turn to him, he had no idea he had been crying until she leans over and wipes his cheeks, “I love you, you know that?”
“I love you too,” he smiles but he can’t keep the conversation there, he’s feeling trapped and so he changes the topic. “What colour dress were you thinking?”
The quick-change makes her laugh, “probably black.”
“Are you sure?”
She nods, “I don’t need to stand out beside you any more than I already do.”
“What does that mean?”
She bits her lip, “some of the people in my class are saying that I’m only doing so well because you’re helping me cheat and that I’m just fucking you to get a job… just like I thought they would.”
“At the end of the day, we have a friendship they will never understand, we have great sex because we want to, you’re smarter than me, and the BAU wants you… so who is the real winner?” He’s always going to be her number one cheerleader.
“You’re right,” she smiles again finally, “as always.”
He convinces her to get a red dress.
She hasn’t had a pretty dress like this one since her prom and that was 6 years ago. She hasn’t been to a party or mingled with people in just as long, she didn’t realize how lonely she had been while chasing her dreams until Spencer came along.
He was one of the dreams. She saw him talk once, years ago on a school trip, and she fell in love with him a little, even back then. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be him or be with him back then, doing everything in her power to get into the criminal psych degree at her local college, she just wanted to be like him.
Now she’s liked by him.
Every night he goes to his home across the hall and he does his own nightly routine before coming back to her apartment for the night. She’s too emotional to sleep with him today, she knows that if she has sex with him she’s going to say something stupid or cry after because being this close to him without being honest with him is killing her.
Something in him has changed too, he’s less scared to initiate contact, he doesn’t jump anymore when she hugs him or when she smacks his bum as she passes him. Now he’s wrapping his arms around her while she cooks dinner, and he kisses her cheek randomly when they’re in public.
He tells her that he loves her.
She’s confused and she has no one to talk to about it.
She lays back against her pillows and closes her eyes, she knows she’s going to cry soon, and she doesn’t know what to do because she doesn’t want to cry in front of him and he would be upset if she told him to not come back tonight.
The stress of the situation just makes her cry more as she stresses herself into another anxiety attack, much like the first night she talked to him. She just lets it happen, the anxiety in her stomach builds and the tears slip past her eyes and suddenly she’s sobbing into her pillow hard enough that she doesn’t hear him come back.
She jumps at the feeling of his hand on her back as he sits on the edge of the bed, “what’s wrong?”
She just sits up and hugs him, and he hugs her back and they stay there like that for a while. When she calms down, she pulls back from him and wipes her eyes, “my period is coming.” She’s not really lying, and he believes her.
“Does it normally make you this emotional?”
He’s never really experienced her mood swings, he has no idea what he’s in for, she nods. “Yeah, and I have really bad anxiety which just gets worse around this time.”
“And you’re not on anything?”
She shakes her head, “I’m waiting to get onto the good healthcare when I get a job with the bureau, I can’t afford to work and go to school, I’m glad I had enough scholarship money left to rent this place long enough to go to the academy.”
“Oh.”
She just nods, “I’ve never had much money like my parents have been saving for 2 years to buy plane tickets to Virginia so that they can see me graduate. They started saving before I even got in. I went to community college on a scholarship and I get a lot of money from applying for bursaries.”
“Are you going to take the CARD job or the BAU offer?”
She shrugs, “I’m not sure yet, but probably CARD.”
“Why?”
“I can’t work with you,” she whispers. “It makes me feel like I don’t deserve to be there like I’m using you and that all my work isn’t that great. I’m just Doctor Spencer Reids girlfriend.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, imposter syndrome is a leading factor in depression among child prodigies, once you reach a certain age and you stop receiving awards for your work, it’s hard to believe that you’re still doing a good job.”
She knows he gets it, he has probably said the same fact to himself to calm down before. “Thank you.”
“Do you want me to stay?”
She nods, pulling back the covers and moving over so he can snuggle in beside her. She holds him, resting her head on his chest and taking a deep inhale of his cologne, this was the love of her life and if this was as close as she was ever going to be to him, she was going to take it.
He kisses the top of her head and holds her in his arms at just the right pressure to calm her down. She feels so comfortable with him but she still feels like shit, she doesn’t stop crying, and he just holds her through it.
“Do you want to tell me what’s really wrong?” He whispers after a while, he sounds worried.
“No,” she whispers. “I can’t.”
“Is it about me?”
“Yeah,” she cries again, “and I don’t have any other friends to talk to about us and now you’ve told hotch and I have no one to talk to about how this is kinda stressing me out.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” his voice is still scared and she knows he’s going to panic regardless and just send them around in a circle of constant anxiety. But his tone is more apologetic than one fuck up.
“Who else did you tell?” She sits up, “I thought this was just between us?”
“I needed advice, the same reason you are reacting right now, you’re stressing me out,” Spencer finally talks back with passion and she knows they’re about to fight for no reason.
“I never said you were stressing me out. I said our situation was, but I think I need to sleep alone now, Spencer” she’s confident and stern even though she’s crying.
“We can’t go to bed mad at each other. You even said the mornings are the worst, we can’t hate each other for no reason tomorrow,” he starts to cry, not knowing where he went wrong and she can see it on his face.
“I just don’t have what you have, and I’ve always been trying to copy you…”
“What?”
She sighs and wipes her tears, “I have had a big fat, fan-girly, crush on you since I was 18, I came here with my class to watch you do a talk on philias and phobias and then I knew I wanted to get into the academy and I wanted to beat your record and join the BAU, and I just thought; one day I’m going to be friends with this guy and catch bad guys with him and now I am and I’m so alone.”
“You have me?”
“I know,” she tries to smile, “but I only have you and I can tell you almost everything. Like my biggest stressor right now is that if just looking at fake crime scenes for 3 weeks has made me this anxious; what if I’m not cut out for this? What if I get to a real crime scene and I pass out or—“
“That’s only human,” he presses his lips together, awkwardly, and very Spencerly. “If you didn’t feel like this job makes you hate the world and untrusting of everyone around you; then I would think you’re crazy.”
“How do you do it?”
“I open up and let people in, but I typically wait till I’m at my lowest; crying in my friend's arms because I don’t know what to do anymore,” he smiles again, wider and toothy as she smiles back.
“Thank you,” she can’t help but tilt her head and smile as her heart settles and her brain calms down a bit, “I love you.”
“Can I kiss you or is that too much right now?”
She gets in closer to him, laying back down on the pillow and looking at him. They’re closer enough to kiss, and she just takes a moment to look at him, resting her hand on his cheek as he wraps around her waist and pulls her in closer.
“We’re okay?” He asks with his lips right against her, his breath is hot and he smells like toothpaste.
“We’re okay, but no more talking tonight, okay?” She whispers.
He nods, leaning in and kissing her finally. She knows she shouldn’t be kissing him, she knows that she should be mad at herself, but she also knew that even just pretending that he loved her back was good enough.
He gets called away to a case on Wednesday morning, he’s too busy to really call her and he doesn’t text back. He feels bad about it but he knows she wanted space to think anyway, what he didn’t expect was for her to reach out to Penelope.
She’s in the office with her on Friday, tired of Spencer ignoring her so she went to the one place he couldn’t avoid her; Penelope’s office.
“How can I help you today, my fine furry friends?” Y/N answers the phone with a smirk, copying Penelope’s line perfectly, they can hear them high five through the line.
“Y/N?” Spencer is the first to catch it, “what are you doing there?”
“I came to meet Anderson and see if I’d like to take his job or not,” she teases, pretending she wasn’t there just to bother him.
Hotch cuts in, asking the question he needed to ask before hanging up, “not sure what’s going on at home but we’re too close to cracking this case for schoolyard games.”
“Yes sir,” he nods and looks away, retreating to the other side of the room to stare at the map and pretend to find connections.
“Crack this and you can go home to her,” Derek whispers with a smile, thinking he’s helping the situation.
“That’s not where I want to be right now.”
“Woah,” Derek catches it, “what happened?”
“Nothing,” he’s quick to get him to stop it but he really wants advice, “she’s stressed out and she took it out on me and I wasn’t very nice back.”
“You said sorry and you pretended you were over it, didn’t you?”
He turns away from Derek with a nod, he wants to come out with it and get it over with and he’s so mad and embarrassed he just starts to cry a little, “I don’t want to lose her.”
“How could you?”
“You have no idea,” he rolls his eyes lightly and scoffs, confusing Derek.
“And I won't unless you want to talk to someone about what’s really bothering you, but you’ve been happier since you met her and I like seeing you happy, and Savannah likes double dates,” he scolds him with a smile, patting his shoulder lightly. “now let's crack this and maybe on the plane you will tell me what’s up?”
“Sure,” he says, but he doesn’t want to.
However, Derek Morgan is good at a lot of things, and one of those things is getting Spencer to calm down enough to tell him anything. Everyone is asleep on the plane, it’s just the two of them at the back together when Spencer finally feels confident enough to say it.
“I lied to you, a long time ago… and it’s just the first one.”
Derek doesn’t look angry, “okay, explain your thought process. I need to know how this pretty brain of yours works.”
He smiles a bit, “I slept with Elle the night before she shot that rapist in Ohio.”
“You did not?” Derek's voice gets a little too loud and they stop to make sure no one woke up.
“I did, but you still always made jokes about finally getting me some lovin’ and it bothered me for a while and I never told you, instead I offered to help my neighbour with her homework if she pretended to date me,” his voice lowers as the words continue and he only stares at the table between them.
“Spencer, I’m sorry,” Derek apologizes first. “I didn’t know I was upsetting you, is there anything else I do that upsets you?”
He shakes his head in a silent no, still not looking at him, he can't.
“What happened between you and Y/N?” He jumps to the main issue, fine with what happened because he feels bad for causing the issue in the first place.
“We started sleeping together.”
Derek sighs, “you have such a big brain, you can remember everything she’s ever said to you and yet you can’t see that she’s in love with you.”
“She’s good at pretending,” he pushes it away.
“No she’s not, because she’s pretending she doesn’t love you right now; the same way you are and you’re both fucking it up for each other,” Derek gives it to him straight. “You have always been loveable, but you have a very hard time accepting it, Spencer.”
“Yeah,” he starts to cry a little more.
“Go home and talk to her and tell her the truth,” it’s the best advice he can give and Spencer knows it. “What’s the worst that can go wrong?”
“She does love me back but in a few years, she realizes I’m too much and she leaves me,” his voice is the saddest Derek has ever heard it.
He gets up from his seat and hugs Spencer, sliding into the seat beside him and wrapping his arms around him, “you have never been too much. You just surround yourself with people who aren’t good enough to love you for who you are.”
“She’s better than me.”
“Which is exactly what I mean, she’s not going to leave you, believe me, once you love Spencer Reid for who he really is, it’s hard to stop,” he speaks from experience, thinking of what could have been between them if either of them had tried harder in the past.
“She’s the love of my life,” he confirms, “I’m never going to love anyone else the way I love her.”
They get the word that they’re going to be landing soon, Spencer wipes his tears and buckles in for the descent, avoiding everyone’s stares and questions on the ride back to headquarters. He’s nervous to see her, he knows his face is puffy and she’ll be there waiting for him with Penelope, but he has to do it.
“Would you wait here, I need to tell her now and she might not give me a ride home if it doesn’t go well,” he asks Derek before heading to Penelope, “she was already mad at me for telling Hotch the truth.”
“Okay, sure,” Derek smiles, reaching out a hand for Spencer, “come to me when you need me next time, okay?”
“Okay,” he agrees with a small smile, heading out to find his fake girlfriend.
She’s not with Penelope, no she’s in the filing room with Anderson and the other temps all talking and laughing, and it sounds far too interesting to interrupt. He waits outside the door and smiles at her laughter until he hears it.
“So be honest,” Agent Camden asks, “are you sleeping with Reid for this job?”
“If I was sleeping my way to the top, don’t you think I would have picked Morgan? Or Prentiss even?” She laughs and it’s like someone stabs a knife through his heart.
He turns around and heads back to Derek, “take me home.”
“Okay,” he doesn’t pry, he just grabs his coat and keys and follows Spencer to the garage.
He’s really ignoring her.
She finds out from Emily that Spencer left with Derek, and that he looked rather pissed off when he asked for a ride. It breaks her heart a little and she doesn’t know what to do next, she just drives home and finds herself knocking on his door.
“Let me in, please, Spencer!” She begs from behind his door.
He opens it and looks at her with a puffy red face, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips, he’s been crying for a while. “What?”
“What did I do?”
“You slept with me,” he whispers, “and I told you I wouldn’t react well.”
“Is it my fault you’re crying?” She asks softly and he nods, “do you want to tell me?”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head, “are we still going to the banquet together tomorrow?”
“I really fucked up,” is all he can muster, crying again as he closes the door and goes to cry in his room.
She just opens the door again and follows him inside. Kicking off her shoes she crawls into bed beside him and wraps herself around him, “you don’t have to tell me but I am here for you, always.”
“I love you,” he says it like it’s the problem before he rests his head in the crook of her neck and holds her back for the first time in days.
“I love you, too, Spencer,” she cries along with him. They cry until he’s asleep and she’s just there holding him in her jeans and she’s really uncomfortable but she loves him too much to let go.
“More than you will ever know.”
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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years
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Twisted 17 - Mind Games [Spencer Reid x Reader]
A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, angst.
Word Count: 4700
Summary: Love demands sacrifices.
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Not even once in your life had you ever imagined yourself in handcuffs, in an interrogation room on the wrong side of the table.
You weren’t even at the FBI headquarters though. The police had taken you to the station after the hospital, taking a blood sample and your fingerprints, then they had handcuffed you and left you there with a glass of water.
Of course they suspected you. Of course they thought you had murdered him.
Murder was your father’s legacy, after all.
You traced the handcuffs over your wrists, already feeling the bruises forming there. The shock still hadn’t worn off but you were starting to think it was a good thing. It felt as if you were watching all of this from behind some kind of glass window, perfectly aware of every single emotion but unable to actually feel them.
Spencer had said when you felt threatened, your body produced nervous energy, some sort of a fight or flight reaction but for once you weren’t trying to do any of that.
You just sat there, completely frozen.
“You look calm,” the police officer spoke, making you look up, trying to ignore the faint yelling coming from outside, possibly from the end of the hall.  
“I’m sorry?”
“Most people would be traumatized if this happened to them, they’d be crying, shaking…” he motioned at you, “But look at you. Still as a statue. You look pretty calm.”
“Would you rather if I were crying?”
“I’d rather if you were acting like a human being,” he said, “Why are you so calm?”
Why were you so calm?
Because your mother had taught you this much. Showing emotion when you were afraid meant weakness.
“My father was a serial killer,” you stated, looking him dead in the eye, “I’ve had a complicated childhood.”
“Yeah, I’d say…” he leaned in slightly, “You know, I’ve watched that documentary about your father. His interviews too.”
You raised your brows as he sniffled, trying to look like he was nonchalant about this whole situation.
“And I’ve spent sixteen years on this job,” he said, “After a while, you don’t even need anyone to speak for you to know what they’ve done. It’s all in their eyes and little girl,” he clicked his tongue, “There’s nothing behind your eyes but ice and death.”
You couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. Not in front of people, not even if they tried to kill you. No matter how much they tried to hurt you-
No emotions.
“Impressive,” you managed to say, “Very poetic. Have you ever considered changing your career?”
“You know what I think?”
“I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”
“I think you wanted to follow your father’s footsteps,” he said, “I think you killed Anthony, and all those other people. It’s not even your fault, is it? Some people are just born broken.”
That was more than enough to make your eyes snap up to his and you could feel the lump in your throat but you bit your tongue so hard that you swallowed blood, making sure to keep your expression still.
“Nothing to say?”
“You’ve already decided what to think of me,” you said, “And I already told you what happened. What more do you want to hear?”
“Right,” he scoffed, taking a look at the file in front of him, “You went to bed around 12, didn’t wake up whole night, when you woke up you found him like that. Lying in a pool of his own blood, in your kitchen.”
“You don’t look like a whiskey girl.” an unfamiliar voice made you turn your head and you lowered your glass, tilting your head. The guy smiled at you, and stole a look at the whiskey glass you had put on the bar.
“Yeah?” you asked, “What girl am I then? If you’re such an expert?”
He thought for a moment, “Hmm, wine?”
“Depends on the occasion.”
“What kind of an occasion does whiskey call for?”
“Apparently an occasion for meeting guys with bad pick-up lines.”
He let out a chuckle, “Yeah, I swear I’m normally smoother than this.”
“I would hope so,” you grinned, and offered your hand, “Y/N.”
“Anthony.”
“But you failed to mention the part you texted him to come to your apartment.”
“I didn’t text anyone.”
“We have your phone Y/N.”
“I didn’t text anyone,” you repeated, “Someone must’ve drugged me and taken my phone, the same person who killed him, the same person who obviously broke into my apartment.”
“How convenient.”
You clenched your jaw.
“I always wake up during night,” you said, your voice completely calm and controlled. “Always. I never woke up last night, there has to be a reason for that.”
“If you’ve been drugged, it will come up on the blood tests.”
“Good.”
“While we wait for that,” he said, “Why don’t we go over what you did last night?”
You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said “Went to work. I left work at 7 to go to my sister’s place. I left there around eleven, came home and went to bed.”
“Nothing else happened.”
“Nothing else happened,” you repeated and he sat up straighter.
“Okay. Well just so you know, Dr. Spencer Reid—” he started and your head shot up, your heart slamming against your chest, “He is giving us his professional opinion at the moment, about this case and what might have really happened this morning. Do you have anything you want to change in your story before he’s finished?”
You gawked at him, blinking a couple of times before you turned your head to look at the one-way mirror on the wall.
The BAU was there, behind the mirror.
“….They came back?”
“We’ve sent them the report, yes. They landed an hour ago.”
It was as if somebody was trying to claw your stomach out of your body as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to ignore the burning behind your eyes before you turned to the officer.
“I don’t have anything to change,” you managed to keep your voice stable, “It was a terrible thing, it definitely was but I didn’t do it.”
Someone knocked on the mirror, making you and the officer look that way before he pushed his chair back and left the interrogation room. You closed your eyes for a moment, focusing on your breathing through the blinding headache but opened your eyes when the door opened again.
Luke.
He offered you a small smile and pulled himself a chair.
“Hi.”
“Hello,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, sitting up with your back straight, your hands clasped.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” you stole a look at the one-way mirror, “Is he there?”
“Reid?” Luke asked and shook his head, “I had to basically wrestle him out of the hall, he’s…he’s not allowed here. Conflict of interest. He’s giving his statement at the end of the hall as we speak.”
You nodded, digging your fingernails into your palms. “Okay.”
“He also called your sister on our way here. Couldn’t reach her, but left a message. Listen, he can’t request it on your behalf, but you need to ask for a lawyer.”
“I didn’t kill Anthony.”
“I didn’t ask if you killed him, I’m saying you need to ask for a lawyer.”
“Does he think I did it?” you asked and Luke shook his head again.
“No,” he said, “But it doesn’t matter what anyone else believes at this point, Y/N. Ask for a lawyer.”
You kept your back straight, rolling your shoulders. “If Spencer left a message to Mina, she’s coming.”
“Is she a defense lawyer?”
“No but she knows a lot of them.”
He took a deep breath and put the bottle of your pills on the desk, “The officers also found this.”
You tried your hardest to focus, moving your wrists to help with the soreness of the handcuffs. “They’re prescribed.”
“I can see that. The side effects say confusion?”
You arched a brow, “I’m sorry, do I sound confused to you right now?”
“No, you sound way too controlled right now, I may as well have been talking to a robot.”
You gritted your teeth, trying to control the panic bubbling at the pit of your stomach, sending anger through your veins.
“I’m not confused,” you stated, “Besides, I haven’t been taking them lately.”
He threw his head back, pressing his lips together, “God, Y/N, you can’t say that. A psychiatrist prescribed you something and you—“
“They’re just for nightmares, they don’t make you…” you took a deep breath, commanding yourself to stay calm, “I didn’t kill him. I found him like that. It was terrible, but I didn’t do it.”
Someone opened the door again and Emily Prentiss cleared her throat.
“Luke,” she murmured, “Spencer.”
You could feel your heart skip a beat upon hearing his name but kept completely still as Luke left the room and Emily and JJ walked into the room.
“You’re taking turns now?” you asked and Emily cleared her throat,
“Me and JJ are the only people in our team who haven’t spent as much time with you, so we figured it would be better if we interrogated you.”
“I didn’t do it.”
Emily pulled herself a chair as JJ crossed her arms, standing by the wall.
“Can you walk me through what happened this morning?”
You took a deep breath, “I woke up,” you said, “With a headache. I knew something was wrong, I felt it. My window was open, the front door was half open and my phone wasn’t where I left it. I stepped outside my room, saw the blood, went to the kitchen and saw—“ you gritted your teeth and clenched your fists, “Saw my ex-boyfriend there. Dead. Lying in a pool of his blood.”
“But you heard nothing.”
“I never sleep for the whole night,” you said slowly, “Check my blood test. Something happened last night.”
“We don’t have your blood test results yet, but there was no sign of any sexual—“
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” You cut her off, a shiver running down your spine, “That’s not it. Whoever it was, they didn’t touch me, they wanted…”
“What did they want?”
You shrugged slightly, “I don’t know. They wanted me to see it I think. My…my father’s crime scenes.”
JJ took a deep breath and pushed herself off the wall.
“And you don’t think it’s a little too convenient?”
You pulled your brows together, looking at her and she stepped closer to the table, her eyes fixed on you.
“Two victims so far,” she said, “The ones that we knew that were in the same place as you, they had some connection to you. That woman who was killed at the charity ball, you didn’t get along when you were kids, you turned her down as a client before she was killed, and now your ex-boyfriend ends up dead, in your apartment because you sent him a—“ she scoffed, “I’m sorry, someone sent him a late night text, inviting him to your apartment.”
“JJ,” Emily started but JJ held up a hand while you tried to wrap your head around it.
She had a point. Two victims so far had some connection to you and that was not a coincidence, it couldn’t have been.
“You think I did it,” you rasped out and she scoffed.
“I think you had something to do with all of this,” she said, “I think you’ve been trying to manipulate Spencer for something. The best case scenario, you were cheating, that’s why Anthony was there and something went bad, the worst case….” She shook her head, “You’re behind every single murder we’ve been looking into, and Spencer was just a tool for you. He’s my best friend, and if I find one single proof that you put him in harm’s way, I swear to God I will destroy you.”
Two people had ended up dead, and that was your fault. The copycat was going after people who had some kind of connection to you, and apparently no one except you and your family was safe.
The idea was way too painful to even exist inside your head, but it was clear as day. JJ was right, you were putting Spencer in harm’s way just by being with him, and if it were him, if you had seen him lying in a pool of his blood, his eyes wide open—
You dug your fingernails into your palms until it hurt before you managed to lift your head, that invisible wall which kept you safe from anyone and everyone who could possibly see anything you felt going up again.
“You…” you trailed off, your throat burning, “You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“What does that mean?” Emily asked but before you could say anything, someone slammed the door open, making you and the agents turn.
Mina.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” she asked no one in particular and stepped aside so that 4 lawyers could walk inside before the police officer rushed to you to remove the handcuffs off your wrists.
“You’re not saying another word,” she snapped her fingers, “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“We’re going to need her to sign some papers,” the officer said as Mina grabbed your wrist to pull you out of the room, making you hiss in a breath and she froze, lowering her glances to check your sore wrists for any bruises.
“What did they do to you?”
You shook your head silently, and something in Mina’s gaze shifted. You had seen it only a couple of times, including that time you were getting stitches after some girls in your classroom had ambushed you in the bathroom, and more importantly, you had seen that look on her face when Lily had fever that one time and you all had to rush to the hospital and the doctors said she couldn’t see her.
It was fire, similar to yours, ready to burn everything in its path.
“Don’t say anything to anyone. You two,” she motioned at the two lawyers, “Read whatever she’s supposed to sign.”
The lawyers approached the desk by the door as Mina put her coat over your shoulders, rubbing at your arms as you swayed slightly on your feet, trying to focus.
“We’re leaving, okay sweetheart?”
“Miss—“
“No,” When Mina turned to the police officers and the BAU team, any trace of softness in her voice disappeared, “You don’t talk. If you don’t want to get into even more trouble, you’re going to listen to me right now.”
The officer that had been with you at the interrogation room just blinked a couple of times, obviously taken aback.
“Do you have any idea what you just did to yourself?” she asked, “What you did to this whole precinct? Because allow me to explain, my sister was a victim in this scenario, and you tried to pin this shit on her to make her a scapegoat,” she shook her head, “We will be suing you for defamation of character—“
“Mina, your sister—” JJ started but she snapped her fingers at her.
“I haven’t even started with you yet, wait for your turn.”
“Mina…” you murmured but she didn’t even look like she could hear you,
“Where was I? Defamation of character because press will be all over this, intentional infliction of emotional stress and wrongful arrest and hey, to make things fun we will also be requesting the security footage in the interrogation room and if I see one very small slip of anything that wasn’t supposed to be said and done in that room…” Mina tilted her head, “Well, let’s just say that by the time I’m done with you guys and this whole precinct, the only thing you will be able to afford is going to be a typewriter and a desk.”
One of the lawyers came to tell you the document was alright to sign and as soon as you approached the desk, a door by the hall opened and Spencer stepped out.
It was almost excruciating not to be able to run to him. He looked as shocked as he was and he took a step towards you but JJ stepped in front of him as you grabbed the pen, ignoring the way your name spilled from his lips in a whisper.
“Oh, hi genius.” Mina called out, “Were you getting a glass of water while your team was hounding my sister or something?”
Spencer looked almost confused only for a moment before he turned to look at JJ who deliberately averted her glances from him.
“Mina, this is not necessary,” you croaked out as you signed the papers and she shook her head.
“No, this is very necessary, trust me. You need to show these people what you’re capable of or they will try to fuck you up, case and point.” She turned to Emily, “You’re the one in charge, I suppose?”
“I am.”
“Good. Consider this your warning, because the next time anyone in your team, including the puppy dog eyes over there gets any closer to my sister, we will be getting a restraining order for each and every one of you.”
You closed your eyes for a moment, still swaying on your feet and you hugged the coat around you tighter.
Not that you could do anything other than watching this.
“Your sister is an active part of this investigation, your father specifically asked for—“
“My sister is a civilian,” Mina growled, “She has no responsibility for this case, you do. How about you surprise me and do your fucking jobs?”
You took a breath to say it wasn’t fair, that it wasn’t their fault but Mina turned to look at you.
“Get in the elevator, we’re leaving.”
You were way too tired to fight her, way too tired to even stand there so you followed the army of lawyers to the elevator, while Mina shot the officers and the BAU members a fake smile.
“Pleasure, let’s never do this again,” she said, and got in the elevator with you, and you tried to keep your expression still, Spencer staring at you until the doors slid close.
“4 lawyers?” you managed to say, “I don’t think even Bundy had four lawyers.”
“Tell that to mom,” she said, “She was on the phone with a congressman the last I checked.”
You couldn’t even smile at that, but Mina let out a breath before pulling you into a bone crushing hug, making the tears rush to your eyes as you wrapped your arms around her.
“Never do that to me again, you hear me?” her voice cracked for the first time and you nodded slowly.
“I won’t,” you said, “I promise.”
                                                   ***
It was as if someone had pulled all your energy out of your body. You were exhausted, you could barely understand what anyone was saying but you knew there was no way you could sleep anytime soon.
The blood test, as the lawyers had informed you, finally came back and just like you suspected, they had found traces of chloroform in your system. That and your team of lawyers combined were more than enough to get rid of any kind of accusations against you, so at least you had that.
On the other hand, the fear, the guilt, the sadness were still there inside of you, even if you felt way too numb to reach it.
You wondered if Spencer would have a scientific explanation for that.
Your mother had insisted you would never step a foot into your apartment again, she was already looking for a new apartment for you, one with multiple security systems and until that happened she had told you you would be staying at her house.
The damn thing was way too big anyway and you and Mina had grown up there so you figured it would serve as some sort of shelter.
If it even existed for you.
“Here you go sweetheart,” your mother pushed the tea cup towards you, “Drink it, it’ll make you feel better.”
“I’m fine.”
Kenzie heaved a sigh, “It’s okay if you’re not,” she said, “No one expects you to, anyone would be traumatized.”
“The real estate agent already sent me three apartments,” your mother said, “Huge windows, you love a bright apartment.”
“Mom,” Mina said silently and she heaved a sigh.
“It could help her distract herself,” her head shot up, “Y/N, you should go on a vacation! Somewhere far away from here.”
“Somewhere peaceful could be nice?” Kenzie added, “I think that’s a good idea.”
You and Mina exchanged glances.
“I heard Fiji is lovely this time of the year,” your mother said and you let out a breath.
“Mom, two people died because of me,” you croaked out, “I’m not going to Fiji for vacation.”
“Honey, you could use some peace,” she held your chin carefully and lifted it so that she could look at you better, “You look so…”
“I look like how I feel,” you said and turned your head when the doorbell rang, making Mina sit up straighter.
“Who’s that?” she asked when the maid walked in.
“Spencer Reid?”
“What?” you and Kenzie asked at the same time, your heartbeat getting faster and Mina jumped on her feet but you stopped her, shaking your head.
“It’s okay,” you sniffled, nodding to yourself, “It’s….it’s fine. There’s no point in dragging it out.”
“Dragging what out?” Mina asked you but you walked out of the living room and reached the front door, trying to ignore the warmth filling your system as soon as your eyes caught the sight of him. You stepped out of the house and he pulled you into a tight hug, burying his nose into your hair and inhaling deeply as if it helped him calm down while you just stood there, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay.
You had to do it. No matter how much it hurt you, no matter how much you didn’t want to.
No matter how badly it would rip your heart out.
“You okay?” he asked you, his fingers pushing your hair behind your ear, “I tried your apartment but I figured…”
“Yeah, I’m not going back there,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I’ll move out, it’s fine.”
“Do you want to stay at my place?” he asked quickly and you closed your eyes for a moment, every cell in your body begging you to change your mind.
You couldn’t though. You’d rather die than see him lying in a pool of his blood, all because of you.
“Don’t say that,” you whispered and opened your eyes again, “Please don’t say that.”
He looked almost confused, tilting his head to the side like a puppy before it dawned on him.
“Is this about the file on me?”
You shook your head and he took a deep breath.
“About today?”
“I didn’t send that message,” you said, “To Anthony, I mean. I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“I know that.”
“And I didn’t kill him. I don’t know if you heard, but the blood tests came back positive for—”
“I never doubted that, not even for one second,” he insisted, “With or without blood test.”
“You might be the only one,” you murmured and he paused for a moment.
“What did JJ say to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Because we had an argument on the jet on our way back here and whatever she said…”
You shook your head again, trying to smile.
“I get it,” you murmured, “She’s your best friend, she’s protective of you. That’s normal.”
“Yeah but if she thinks that you’re capable of—”
“I want to break up.”
You could swear the words burned your mouth, some invisible hand clutching your heart tighter and tighter as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the street, because you were sure that every wall you built to keep your emotions under control would crash down the moment you looked at him. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that he froze and he blinked a couple of times, as if he was lost.
“What?” he asked silently and you tried to swallow the lump growing bigger and bigger in your throat.
“Y/N, wait—no,” he said quickly, breathing hard, “Listen, whatever they said to you today during the interrogation, if that’s what this is about—”
“It has nothing to do with that,” you forced yourself to say, crossing your arms and he took a step closer to you.
“Whatever the problem is,” he rasped out, “We can solve it, okay? Don’t do this.”
That was when it dawned on you.
It wasn’t enough to push him away. You had to make sure to burn that bridge so that neither of you could ever find your way back to each other.
“It’s not one of your cases Spencer, you can’t solve this one,” you muttered and finally turned your head to look up at him, your stomach churning at the sight of betrayal on his face.
“I don’t understand.”
“You—it���s—“ you stammered, trying to find the words, “It’s going way too fast, alright? It’s going way too fast and it’s going to fucking crash, and I can’t—“ you cleared your throat when your voice cracked, “I’m not going to crash with this, I can’t.”
Your father had taught you this way too long ago, when you were too young to even question it.
Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.
Stab the prey.
“I mean come on Spencer, we’re not in love or anything,” you shrugged your shoulders, “Should be easy enough.”
He stared at you for a couple of seconds, his mouth slightly agape and his brows furrowed, shock written all over his face.
“We’re not in love?” he repeated, “You…you don’t love me?”
Twist the knife.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
His eyes searched your face, as if looking for any kind of clue that could tell him you were lying, or that it was a trick but for once, it was in vain.
You’d had spent years learning how to control your emotions and your expression when it came to heartbreak.
Pull it back.
“It’s not my fault if you’re in love,” you said, each word making you hate yourself more and more, “I can’t be held responsible for that.”
Stabbing yourself would’ve been less painful, you were sure of that but you knew you had to keep going. One last step, one last sentence and you would be done.
Watch them bleed.
“I never told you to love me.”
Then, silence.
You had to give it to him though, it took him faster than it would’ve taken you to pull yourself together if you were the one on the receiving end of this. He blinked back the tears, clenched his jaw and in a second, his gaze turned cold, exactly like yours.
“Yeah,” he said slowly, nodding, “You didn’t.”
But you had forgotten one small detail. 
Spencer knew how to withdraw that knife and stab back.
You cleared your throat and turned around to get inside the house but before you could step in, you heard his voice.
“I was wrong.”
You looked over your shoulder, clutching at the straws to keep it together, “I’m sorry?”
“I was wrong,” he stated, his voice was distant and held no trace of its usual warmth, “Before, I mean. In terms of behavior and psychology, you’re exactly your father’s daughter.”
With that, he walked away from the house, and you just stood there for a moment before stepping into the house and closing the door behind you, that comfortable haze of shock slowly withdrawing from your mind like mist. That hand squeezing your heart twisted it in your chest and you tried to breathe, pressing a hand on your chest.
“Sweetheart?” your mother called out as she stepped into the hallway, then slowly approached you, “You okay?”
It was impossible to stop the tears rushing to your eyes now and a gasp escaped from your lips as you shook your head.
“Mom,” you whimpered, “Please, my—my heart hurts...”
She rushed to you and shushed you gently, pulling you into a tight hug and caressing your hair as you slipped to the ground and you buried your face to her shoulder.
Then the sobs came.
Chapter 18
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jediken0bi · 3 years
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Boundaries
Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary:
When JJ makes an offhand comment about Spencer not being particularly fond of physical touch to his girlfriend it causes a bit of a misunderstanding.
word count: 3180
-
Ever since you and Spencer decided to ditch your colleagues for the third time in a row to watch Doctor Who at his place instead, which resulted in him awkwardly admitted to liking you at the end of the night, you two have been practically inseparable. You knew that Spencer was shy when it comes to physical affection from the start but you also knew that a huge part of it was the lack of said affection throughout his life.
Often times he looks surprised when you hug him or kiss him with no particular reason in mind other than that you wanted to.
It's like he's used to only experiencing soft touches in the context of challenging and heartbreaking events happening to him.
You were set on changing that. You're going to make up for all the people who have failed to treat him with the love he deserves.
So far he hasn't stopped you from trying either. You cuddle him every chance you get, you kiss him whenever the opportunity presents itself and the environment allows it, you hold his hand while you're on the jet. You make sure Spencer is on board for all of this though.
You always ask him if he's okay with it before. The last thing you want is for Spencer to feel uncomfortable with you.
He's never denied you though and your question is always received with a big smile on his face.
Despite being very responsive to your touches Spencer doesn't allow himself to outright ask for them. Your best guess is that it comes from a long line of people denying him these simple pleasures. The thought breaks your heart.
You two were in the elevator on your way to meet the rest of the team in the bullpen when it all sort of went south.
You were holding hands with Spencer and he subconsciously squeezes your hand a little once the doors open. You give him a smile and lean up to press a small kiss to his cheek.
He immediately turns bright red and you giggle. He's given up on asking you for their reasons. He's starting to accept that you like kissing him and that's reason enough.
He grins at you and you let go of your grip on his hand. You both walk to your respective desks and stuff your go bags under them.
Before you can make your way back to Spencer you spot JJ across the room seemingly headed straight to your desk.
You know JJ is Spencers best friend and while you admittedly had a hard time accepting that your boyfriends best friend was a woman he used to have a crush on, you decided that you had absolutely no reason not to trust Spencer. He was happy with you and JJ was married with kids after all. Hell, Spence is their godfather. There's no need to worry about either of them having feelings for the other. You're sure of it"
Plus, you really like JJ. She was the hardest to win over simply because she and Spencer were so close but she never treated you with hostility. She was kind and respectful but kept you at distance until she was sure you were right for Spencer. You would've been upset if you weren't so happy someone was looking out for him after all.
"Good morning JJ" you greet her happily.
It really had been a good morning.
You and Spencer woke up earlier than usual to eat breakfast together. He made you pancakes!
Or, at least he tried. They were a bit burned but you told him that they were the best pancakes you have ever had. And you meant it.
He, of course, turned bright red and refused to take the compliment so you shut him up with a kiss.
A kiss that said 'Thank you for making me breakfast. I love you and i can't wait to spend the rest of my life eating burned pancakes with you'.
"Hey Y/N i was wondering if you had a minute to talk. About Spence." JJ approached you with a certain worry in her eyes that immediately unsettled you.
"What do you mean? Did something happen? I just saw him a minute ago and he seemed fine" You say nervously. Was there something you overlooked?
You make a mental note to go through the events of this morning again.
"No, he's fine! It's not that. I just wanted to talk to you about how it's going with Spencer. You know, being a couple and all"
JJ seemed almost nervous.
You weren't sure what to think about that.
She never dug around in your business before and you don't think she's got any malicious intentions but it does throw you off a little bit.
"Did you have something specific in mind? We're doing great, JJ. I know you worry about him but i think he's happy with me"
You say proudly because you know he is.
He tells you every night when you two settle down to lie in each others arms to read for a bit.
That's code for Spencer reading to you while laying his head on your stomach and you playing with his hair.
You smile at the memory.
"Uh yeah i guess i do. I just don't want you to think of this as something personal but i think as his best friend i owe it to Spencer to talk to you about it"
She looks down at her feet seemingly uncomfortable but willing to go through with this.
You were shocked to say the least. What could she possibly have in mind that would potentially hurt your feelings? Your mind goes to the worst possible scenarios and it's giving you a good bit of anxiety.
JJ seems to spot the look on your face and grabs your hands.
"No, no, no it's nothing bad per se! Just something you should be aware of to avoid misunderstandings"
You let out a small breath and calm down a bit. You're still confused though. If it's so urgent, why wouldn't Spencer tell you himself?
You were curious though.
"Okay so what is this about then?"
JJ looks at you with a bit of pity in her eyes and you immediately decide you hate that look.
"It's just that, you know, Spence is a bit of a germaphobe and he just doesn't do very well with people invading his personal space. Not that you're invading his space! Gosh no, you're his girlfriend after all. It's just that it seems like he might be a bit overwhelmed. I know it's non of my business, but i think he's trying to be okay with the PDA because it's something you want. I'm all for expanding your comfort zones but i'm afraid Spence is not going to tell you himself"
She finishes her nervous rant and you felt your heart sinking.
Is that why he never asks for your touch? You thought it was because he was shy but maybe it's because it makes him uncomfortable.
Was he trying to protect your feelings by not denying you touch whenever you asked?
Or worse, did he think you would leave him if he put up some boundaries?
Your eyes are filled with unshed tears and you look down at your feet out of embarrassment. You don't want to see the look on JJ's face right now. You're humiliated and honestly just upset Spencer wasn't telling you all this himself.
"Oh. Well, i'm sorry. I didn't know. I thought we were okay but i'll make an effort to turn it down. Thanks JJ"
It's clear she wanted to say something in return but you already turned away from her to flee the scene. It was overwhelming and you didn't want her to see you cry over this.
You went to the only place you knew you could feel freely without having to downplay the whole thing.
Penelopes Office.
You knock twice at her door.
"Hey Pen, can i come in? Are you busy?"
She immediately opens the door and with it, her arms.
"Never too busy for you honey bun!"
You give her a sad smile and hug her tightly.
You sniffle a little and she closes the door behind you two.
"What's wrong Y/N? Did Spencer do anything? I'll kill him for you. I have about twenty seven different ways that would make it look like an accident! Perks of working for the FBI"
This actually makes you laugh and you immediately know you've made the right call coming to Garcia.
"It's more about what he didn't do. Pen, am i a bad girlfriend?"
She grabs your shoulders and pushes you out of her embrace to look at you.
"What? How could you possibly think that? Boy Wonder has never been happier and i've known the kid for a solid couple of years!"
You look down again with an empty smile
"Then why would he send JJ to tell me all about how uncomfortable i make him?"
Okay so maybe you were being a bit dramatic but it feels like he broke your trust by talking to JJ about it before talking to you. At least, you assume he did. Why else would she bring this up?
"He did what? Are you sure?"
You raise your arms in a frustrated manner.
"I don't know Penny all i know is that JJ had some thoughts on how to be in a relationship with Spence!"
Garcia looked shocked and it makes you laugh.
"Yeah, that was my initial reaction too"
She shakes herself out of it.
"Did you talk to Spencer about what he thinks?"
You look at her with sheepish eyes.
"I don't want to yet. I'm upset with him and honestly a little embarrassed. I just wish he would've told me certain things himself. I think i'm going to take a sick day, okay? Can you let Hotch know i'm out for today?"
She looks at you with understanding eyes and gives you a nod.
"Of course, Bunny. Take care. And don't forget that Spencer loves you!"
You smile and give her a nod in return.
"Yeah, i know"
And with that you're out the door and on your way to grab your bag from your desk.
Of course you end up running into the one person you don't want to talk to right now.
Spencer looks at you with a small smile and you give him one back. Admittedly, yours looks a bit forced but you don't have the energy to pretend right now.
"What are you doing?" He asks innocently. He must be unaware of your conversation with JJ.
"I- Uh i'm taking a sick day. I'm not feeling so well"
You try to avoid eye contact but you fail to ignore Spencers worried expression in your peripheral vision.
"Are you okay? Was it the breakfast? I told you you shouldn't have eaten the pancakes!"
He sounds so distressed you can't help but laugh.
You were still mad at him but he was just too cute for his own good.
Out of habit you raise your hand to plant it on the nape of his neck where you usually toy with his hair before kissing him.
Just as you were about to put your hand on him you shake yourself out of it and retreat it.
He looks at you with confused eyes.
"What's wrong?"
He asks you with sad eyes. He's giving you completely mixed signals and it's driving you insane. Did he suddenly want you to touch him?
"Nothing. I just- I'm really tired"
You look down at your bag and pick it up to make your way out of there.
Spencer grabs your hand and it causes you to stop in your tracks. You breath in and out and turn around to look at him once again.
"Are- I mean are you leaving now?"
He looks at you with an embarrassed glint in his eyes. But there's something more to it. He looks hopeful. Like he's expecting something.
Maybe he's waiting for you to kiss him goodbye like you always do says a small voice on the back of your head.
No, you shake your head, JJ was perfectly clear about these things.
"Yeah, i am. See you later okay?"
You say with a small smile. You weren't mad at him for not being comfortable with PDA. That's not it at all. You just wanted him to be the one telling you.
You squeeze his hand and he exhales a little.
"Yes! Yeah, um, we're still on for tonight right? Your place?"
He seems so nervous and it reminds you a lot of the first few dates you two had. He was so afraid of messing up, of being laughed at or rejected.
"Of course we are. I'll order us some Chinese"
You give him a real smile and he starts lighting up as well.
"Yeah i'd like that. See you, uh, tonight then"
He's still holding your hand and you squeeze it one more time before letting go.
As you step into the elevator you know that you two have a lot to talk about.
--timeskip approx. 8h--
You've spend all day trying to figure out how to talk to Spencer about what happened at work today. You didn't want to fight with him and you hope he's not going to try and shut you out.
All your worries pretty much wash away when you find Spencer at your door holding a beautiful arrangement of flowers.
When he finally reveals himself behind them you can't help but drag him inside and press a kiss to his lips. You smile into the kiss and it's not long before Spencer does the same. It's harder than it sounds like but you two aren't willing to separate yet so you keep kissing for a little longer before leaning back to accept the arrangement.
"Thank you, Spence. They're beautiful"
You push the curls out of his face and cup his cheek in your hand.
He leans into it and closes his eyes for a second
"Almost as beautiful as you"
It's barely a whisper but you heard him.
Putting the flowers down on the counter you don't waste a single second hugging him tight to your chest.
He hums in contentment and you melt into him.
You've missed him so much today. You weren't used to being at distance with him. Emotionally or physically.
Speaking of.
"Does that mean we're okay again?"
Spencer asks pressing small kisses to your neck.
You shutter slightly before leaning back to look at him.
"What do you mean? Were we not okay before?"
You brush the curls that have fallen back into his eyes away again and he looks at you with wide loving eyes.
"I don't know i thought we were but then you didn't- um i don't know you just left and i thought maybe i had done something to upset you?"
He looks nervous. Almost like he's afraid he's going to say something wrong. You give him a small sad smile and decide that now is as good of a time as ever.
"I didn't kiss you because i know you're not comfortable with that"
You weren't mad anymore. You had enough time to process what happened and you've come to the conclusion that Spencer must've had his reasons. You're willing to let him explain.
He on the other hand looks at you like you've grown a second head.
"What? No i- why would you think that?"
You huff out a breath and look at him for a moment with raised eyebrows. You really thought he was going to tell you now. Is he waiting for you to say it?
Spencer looked genuinely confused and upset you would even suggest such a thing. It makes you wonder if he talked to JJ at all.
"Look, JJ came to talk to me today and cleared some things up and honestly i'm not upset about what she said. Not really. I'm upset i had to find out from someone who wasn't you. You could've told me. You should have told me actually"
This didn't do anything to wipe off Spencers confused expression. If anything, his frown just got deeper.
"Y/N i seriously don't know what you're talking about. I haven't talked to JJ this week"
Now it's your turn to frown. Did he not know? Was it really just JJ making assumptions that weren't true?
"But she said- No it doesn't matter what she said. What matters is that i want you to tell me, right now, if my affections make you uncomfortable in any shape of form. It's okay if they do Spence! I know i'm a lot but it's important we're both okay with what's happening between us"
He stares at you with a mix of adoration and confusion.
"Of course i'm not uncomfortable with you! I would tell you if i was. It's not even like you're doing any of it without checking with me first! Why would i lie to you?"
You let out a frustrated huff.
"Because you don't wanna hurt my feelings! But it's okay. We're equals and we can set up boundaries if you want. All that matters to me is that you won't shut me out"
Spencer smiles at you and it confuses you. Why the sudden mood change? Not that you're complaining. His smile always did manage to make you feel better. This time is no exception.
He grabs your hands and pulls you closer again.
This is new. Not the hand holding, but the fact that Spencer is the one initiating it.
"I promise you i have never been more comfortable with a person. I don't know what JJ told you and i'm definitely going to have a talk with her about boundaries but as far as we go, i'm more than happy with where and what we are"
You give him a small laugh and he joins in.
You wrap your arms around his middle and bury your head in his chest.
"So you're okay with me kissing you or touching you in general? In front of the team"
He presses a small kiss to the top of your head.
"More than okay" He whispers
You smile and lift your head to give him a proper kiss. He grabs the side of your head and pulls you even closer.
Lips just millimeters apart you look him in the eyes and find nothing but love in them.
"Also, next time you leave work without kissing me goodbye i'll make a scene. No hesitation"
You laugh loudly and push him away. He playfully stumbles back a couple of steps and laughs with you. He shrugs his shoulders
"Try me"
You lean your head on his shoulder.
You don't even know what you were worried about anymore. Spencer has a way to make all the problems seem to minuscule. You can confidently say you've never been happier.
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Text
Shovel Talk
Summary: Hotch and Emily find out about Derek's relationship with Spencer and decide it's time for a chat.
Tags: fluff, humour, est. rel., protective!derek, emily, and hotch, relationship reveal, mentions of past hurt spencer
Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid
Word Count: 1.5k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
Inspired by this post by @penemily that I couldn't stop thinking about. Honestly I love this fic so much lol.
Derek isn’t quite sure how he’s found himself in a vacant office after hours, crowded into an office chair with broken wheels as the two most intimidating FBI agents he knows stand over him.
“Either of you want to tell me what the hell’s going on?” Derek asks, bewildered by how quickly his evening had changed. One minute he’s sneaking looks at Spencer over his computer screen, and the next he’s hauled off to a private room like some sort of hostage.
He’s not scared, but he’s definitely a little pissed off. It’s nearing 10pm and all he wants to do is go home with Spencer, curl up on the sofa and eat take-out in front of the TV as they celebrate closing a case in their own way. He used to celebrate by going out for a drink, falling into bed with a stranger if the opportunity arose, but a quiet evening on the sofa with his boy in his arms is surprisingly satisfying these days.
Hotch raises an eyebrow. “We know,” he says simply, something fierce behind his words.
Derek’s heart skips a beat. It’s not hard to figure out what it is he’s talking about. He and Spencer had started dating a couple of months ago but had decided to keep it under wraps for now; something so young and beautiful was too precious to expose to all the inevitable eventual complications just yet. They’re so ridiculously smitten, though, that he’s not exactly surprised two profilers paying close attention had figured it out.
Ignoring the quietly humming nerves starting up in his stomach, he mirrors Hotch’s raised eyebrow, trying not to look as affected as he feels. “So… what? You wait for Spencer to go to the bathroom to lure me to an empty office to beat me up?”
“Maybe,” Emily replies, voice dry.
Behind the nerves and the posturing, Derek can’t feel a small twinge of hurt. “Look, guys, we expected it to be a bit of a shock, but we thought you’d at least be happy for us—”
“It’s not a shock,” Hotch interrupts.
“What?”
“It’s not a shock,” Emily repeats. “Everyone saw this coming a mile off. We’re not surprised.”
Now, he’s even more lost. “Look, can you guys just sit down? You towering over me is creeping me out, man.”
“Good,” Hotch says easily.
Irritation takes over, and he stands up. “You know what, if you’re gonna be funny about it, I don’t actually have to be here.”
Before he can actually make to leave, though, Hotch is shoving him back down into the chair, old metal and plastic creaking under the force of his caught-off-guard body hitting it again. “Stay.”
“What is going on?” Derek explodes. Maybe under different circumstances he’d be able to profile the situation but as it stands, he’s stressed and confused, desperate only to be allowed to leave this dark, cramped room and take Spencer back to his place. It almost surprises him that all he craves in such a weird and unfamiliar situation is cuddles and a nature documentary, but he’s been with Spencer long enough for it to be approaching normal. The younger man’s probably back at his desk by now, wondering where he is, and Derek would hate for him to be worried. He just wants to go home.
“Derek, we are happy for you and Spencer,” Emily finally explains. “But we couldn’t in good conscience let this go on without having a… chat.” Her face twists into the faux charming expression he’s watched her use to disarm unsubs countless times. It stings a little that she’s using it on him.
He splutters a little as a realisation dawns on him, equal parts bemused and offended. “This is… this is a shovel talk!”
“Yes,” Hotch says with a straight face, his expression tight and intimidating as he tilts his head to the side slightly, clearly entirely unaffected by Derek’s emotions. “This is a shovel talk.”
Derek feels himself relax, tension easing slightly. “Guys, I appreciate the sentiment, but Spencer’s my boyfriend; nobody wants to protect him more than I do. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I’m pretty sure we could give you a run for your money,” Emily says, her expression quickly transforming into something far more dangerous and challenging than only moments previously. “Spencer has something every single member of this team would die to protect. And if you get in our way, then we’re going to have a problem.”
“Emily, what, we’re friends.”
“Yeah,” she agrees, shrugging easily, “and I love you. But Spencer is my little brother, and I would do anything to stop him from getting hurt. As long as you don’t interfere with my primary mission, we’ll be fine.”
Hotch speaks before Derek can get a word in. “Derek, I knew Spencer long before you did. I remember the first time Gideon brought him to one of our lunches, and I saw something in him that made my heart ache. It didn’t take me long to realise that what I saw were the scars left by incredible deep-seated pain. Spencer has been through hell and back throughout his life, and he’s been hurt repeatedly by people who were supposed to protect him, including Gideon. I would do anything to prevent him from getting hurt by someone like that again, you hear me? Anything.”
As confusing as this all is, Derek can’t help but feel touched by Hotch’s earnest, emotional speech. Most of his nightmares these days revolve around Spencer getting hurt, and it’s kind of reassuring to know that he has so many people in the world who will stop at nothing to prevent those horrible dreams from spiralling into reality.
He can’t help but smile a little. “I’m glad he has you two,” Derek says honestly, looking between them, “but I can assure you that if I ever hurt Spencer for some unfathomable reason, your services wouldn’t be needed. I would hate myself enough for all three of us.” Even just considering the hypothetical possibility of hurting Spencer makes his stomach turn: it’s enough for him to know that he wouldn’t need Hotch and Emily to hold him accountable to that, his own self-loathing would be punishment enough.
It seems to appease Hotch and Emily, who Derek realises look sort of like intimidating twin mafia bosses standing over him like this, and they finally step back a little, posture relaxing.
“Well, what are you waiting for then?” Emily says, smiling for real this time. “Get your boy and get home. It’s getting late, you know.”
He rolls his eyes at her as he makes his way to the door.
“Oh, and Derek,” Hotch says, laying a hand on his shoulder, turning him before he can leave, a genuine smile on his face too, “I am actually happy for you and Spencer.”
Derek grins at that. He really is a lucky, lucky man. “Thanks, Hotch.”
“What was that about?” Spencer asks, his features twisting in curiosity as Derek makes his way across the bullpen to his boyfriend, Hotch and Emily emerging from the same room moments later.
Derek doesn’t answer properly, laughing instead. “You got some good friends, you know that?”
Spencer nods, still looking a little confused, but clearly deciding to let it go as he slings his messenger bag across his body, standing up from his desk. Derek slings an arm around Spencer’s shoulders, leading him towards the exit as his insides twist at the adorable blush that colours Spencer’s cheeks so prettily.
“Derek,” he hisses, “shouldn’t we be leaving separately?”
“I think it’s a little late for that,” he chuckles, looking over his shoulder. Spencer does the same, blushing even fiercer as he spots Hotch and Emily leaning against the railing, overlooking the bullpen with all-knowing looks on their faces.
“Oh my god,” Spencer mumbles, clearly embarrassed, but Derek just laughs again as they leave the bullpen and approach the elevators.
“Come on, pretty boy,” he sighs happily, sliding the arm around his shoulders to rest at his waist, fingertips pressing into the small frame of the boy he’s already falling in love with. “Let’s get you home. That penguin documentary awaits.”
“You’re gonna watch Emperors and Kings with me?” Spencer’s happy exclamation and the delighted expression on his face only warms his heart further, and in that moment he decides that he wants a happy Spencer and another nature documentary within his reach for the rest of his life.
Surprisingly, it’s not as terrifying a thought as it might once have been.
(If Derek thinks the shovel talk from Hotch and Emily is bad, though, it’s nothing compared to the one he gets from Penelope. By the end of the next day, he’s somehow reduced to tears that are both happy and the product of extreme terror, on the receiving end of a ‘baby girl’ ban for keeping it from her for so long. In the end, he decides that it’s probably an alright price to pay for everything beautiful that his life has blossomed into over the last few months.)
taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @jellejareau @reidology @i-like-buttons @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @goobzoop @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @queerminalminds (taglist form)
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juniorgman187 · 3 years
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Fighting Fire With Fire (Reid Fic)
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Summary: Reader must lower her pride after a date goes wrong and the only one who can rescue her is her mortal enemy - Spencer Reid.
A/N: This was a beast of a fic to write. It’s been in my WIP since September, and I managed to go from 11 pages to 22 pages in three days. It is now my longest fic thus far. I am insanely fucking proud of it and I hope it does well. Category: Angst Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: allusions to ‘catfishing,’ allusions to abduction, dub-con to taking provocative photos, alcohol, mentions of bruises, jealousy, carrying hug which implies weight of Reader (lmk if I missed anything) Word Count: 11.7k
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
I tried to play nice; I really did, but there was no getting through to him. Everyday started and ended with us fighting fire with fire.
Maybe the reason the two of you butt heads so often is because of how similar you are.
That’s what the team would say when Spencer and I got into one of our daily (sometimes hourly) arguments. 
They constantly encouraged us to get to know each other so that we’d finally see the likeness, and until recently, I wasn’t opposed to the idea. I was willing to do whatever it took to get him to like me. However, as previously mentioned, my willingness quickly dissipated in light of recent events. 
Voluntarily spending more time than necessary with him would be a recipe for disaster no doubt. 
Somehow, in a matter of a month, Reid decided that he simply did not enjoy my presence, which was the nice way of putting it. 
To be more crass, he loathed me to no end.
Initially, I was operating under the assumption that he wasn’t fond of change, and with me joining the BAU, the change was too much too fast for him, but after four weeks, his attitude toward me never deviated. Yet again, I made another excuse for him, arguing to myself that people are allowed to not like me. I could respect that, but where he lost my respect was how he made a conscious effort to remind me of how much he despised me. Even when I was at my nicest, he still treated me like a scelerate. 
If there was a prize for gaining a mortal enemy in the shortest amount of time, I guess I already won that without even trying. He hated me with a burning passion, for reasons unbeknownst to me, despite the fact that all I’d ever try to do was be his friend. 
For far too long, I kept denying the part of me that knew making peace with him outside of work wouldn’t go well and it’d simply go down in history as another failed attempt of mine to form a bond with him, so it was at this point that I decided to face the facts. 
He didn’t make it easy for me, either. It was hard having to be kind to someone that was only ever out to get me. 
He would constantly correct me but only after I said something incorrectly, just so he could prove me wrong. 
“If each police officer patrols a street, we’ll be able to cover the entire comfort zone.”
“Actually, we’d need three more officers if we want to cover the entire comfort zone. There’s still 2.347 miles that are unaccounted for.”
I never understood why he couldn’t just say his piece before me so that I didn’t look like an idiot, but I suppose that was the point. 
And he had this infuriating, unwarranted habit of judging my taste in cinema and literature. Anytime I told Emily or Derek about a movie I saw or told Rossi about a book I read, he felt compelled to share his antagonistic opinions as if I asked for them in the first place. Sometimes even spoiling the endings for me!
“Rossi, I just started reading Doctor Sleep!” I was so eager to tell Rossi that, so much so that I’d become blind to one dark cloud’s own eagerness to ruin the fun. 
“The hotel burns to the ground, but the ghosts don’t die with it.” 
He said it with such monotony and nonchalance, not even bothering to look up from his own book to watch my reaction to his menacing act. He just didn’t care!
The list of reasons not to like him truly did go on and on, so it was almost insulting how people would compare the two of us. 
They’d bring up the congruence in intelligence, the same affinity for reading, and closeness in age, but it only made me madder. The last person I wanted to resemble was Reid, except today, I gained another glaring similarity to him.
“Look at you two. Did you plan your outfits or something?” Emily playfully pointed out after I walked into the conference room. 
I eyed the doctor sipping at his cup of coffee who swiveled around in his chair to see what everyone else was seeing. Just from a short glance, I spotted his navy blue button-up with white polka dots that was nearly identical to the color and print of my dress.
“Well, looks like one of us has to go home and change.” His lips grew into a mischievous smirk behind the rim of his mug. 
Was that a joke? Did Spencer Reid make jokes now?
“Ha ha. Very funny.” I facetiously remarked, taking the only open seat at the table which was next to the jokester himself. 
“I’m kidding. You look really nice today.” He alleged without a hint of irony. He was complimenting me now, too? It was so unfamiliar that it felt like uncharted territory, possibly even a trap.
“Why? Because I’m dressed like you?” I wasn’t going to fall for his words now, maybe the version of me who would do anything to gain his approval would have. She would’ve smiled and said ‘thank you,’ but this me was going to challenge him if that was the last thing I ever did. “Bit of a narcissist are we, Dr. Reid?” 
“Mmm maybe,” He wagered, tilting his head from side to side as if to contemplate the possibility. “Or maybe I just really think you look nice.” 
Without even thinking, my heart skipped a beat. I was utterly repulsed by how I let his words have any effect over me. I couldn’t believe that he’d actually managed to fluster me with mediocre flattery. 
It felt like years that I had to sit next to Reid at the round table before Hotch dismissed the team for the flight.
30 minutes later, and we were on the jet. I’d taken one of the seats at the table opposite Derek and Emily, with Spencer beside me. 
Little things like this I could handle, but I knew it wouldn’t be long before he started bothering me. Morgan was listening to music and Emily was turned around in her seat, facing the back to talk to Rossi. Reid was playing himself in chess, and it took all of my self-control to not be a total asshole and knock the board and its pieces over and into the aisle. Luckily, I had a good enough distraction. 
Grant: can you ft tonight?
Me: we’ll see. i might have to work overtime. 
For the months that I had been talking to Grant, I was deliberately ambiguous about my job because I wasn’t exactly keen on telling him that I worked for the FBI and that I might not be able to FaceTime him since I was in the process of investigating a series of homicides. That’d surely scare him away and I was never one to flaunt my government job anyway.
Grant: you look stunning today
Me: you haven’t even seen me today 
Grant: don’t need to. 
Grant: you’ll always be stunning to me. 
“Who keeps texting you?” 
I looked up from my screen to see Reid fixated on his game but still engaged in my business. 
“No one,” I harshly replied, making a conscious decision to turn my phone on vibrate so he wouldn’t hear the chime of my text notifications.  
With one nimble side glance, Reid eyed my screen. I nudged him away with extra force.
“Nosy much?!” 
This stunned him. He wasn’t used to my coldness, he probably expected me to smile in a chagrined manner and not confront it - as I would have done - but now I was fighting back, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he liked it. 
I knew he could read fast, but how he managed to look at my phone so quickly it was like he never even moved his eyes - I didn’t know. Somehow, though, he managed to capture Grant’s entire username, and I didn’t doubt that he caught my entire conversation with him, too.
“Who’s Grant?” The name rolled off his tongue like he was insulted to even be saying it. 
“No one.” 
He didn’t respond soon after I said this, which I misinterpreted as a little victory for me since I almost believed he was going to drop the subject, but in true Spencer Know It All Reid fashion, he just kept going. 
“‘You look stunning today B-T-W. You haven’t even seen me today. Don’t need to. You’ll always be stunning to me.’ Doesn’t really sound like a ‘no one’ to me.” His recitation of my entire PRIVATE conversation with Grant embarrassed me. 
Did I forget to add his eidetic memory and speed-reading ability to the list of reasons not to like him?
“Shut up!” I nudged him, this time using much more force than the last. I was becoming more and more inclined to push over his ridiculous chess game so that he’d finally take me seriously. 
“Oh, really clever by the way. Vaguely insinuating that you ‘might not be able to call him because you’re working overtime’ just so you don’t have to disclose the true nature of your job.” Spencer’s sarcasm was thick.
“Are you just jealous because the only date you’ve been on was a fake one with a serial killer and not even your actual girlfriend while she was alive?” My reference to Cat and Maeve caught the attention of the entire jet. 
Each member mentally rolled their eyes thinking ‘Here we go again.’ And if that wasn’t their reaction, they were certainly cringing at the fight that was ensuing. 
Things had been suspiciously good between the two of us today so it was about time we argued. We were due for our daily quarrel.
“Oh, that’s right! The only girls who like you are victims in our cases.” Now this comment was referring to Lila and Austin. (I had Penelope to thank for filling me in on all of Reid’s ‘entanglements’ after I was first reassigned).
“Really? You wanna go there?” He sassed back, diverting his attention away fully from his chess game now. “Do you know how many people get ‘catfished’ when using online dating websites? Or the statistics on how many people are raped, assaulted, or murdered by said ‘catfish’?” 
“I’m not stupid, Reid. He and I have been talking for months. We’ve been on calls and Facetime before, too. We’ve just never met in person. Sound familiar?” 
“What Maeve and I had is not at all comparable to what you and this ‘guy’ have. And just because you’ve seen his face before doesn’t mean he’s not a serial killer or operating under an alias.” 
I had to scoff. Who was he to label our relationship valid or not?
“What’s it to you anyway? We all know you’d be ecstatic if this guy turned out to be a serial killer or catfish. You’d get to rub it in my face and say ‘I told you so.’” 
This touched a nerve. He hated it when I attacked his nice-guy facade. 
“Is it so hard to believe I’m actually concerned for your wellbeing?”
“Yes, actually.”
“Fine. If you think I don’t care about you, then don’t come crying to me when you realize he’s not the guy you think he is.”
“Oh, trust me, I won’t! It’s not like you’d be able to protect me anyway, Pretty Boy.” I sneered, using Morgan’s nickname for him as an insult got to him, and I could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. 
Hotch had to interject now. “Alright, (y/l/n), Reid, that’s enough. We need to focus on what’s actually important.” 
I settled back down in my seat, facing forward and avoiding eye contact with Reid. 
“Have fun on your date,” He muttered under his breath. “Hope you survive it.”
Bastard.
For the rest of the case, I was on edge. Deliberately avoiding him was a much harder task than one might think. I had to wait at least ten minutes for my coffee, so I wouldn’t be at the machine when he was there, and if I had to guess, he probably took longer just to make me wait in agitation. I had to awkwardly squeeze into a new spot beside Rossi and Hotch when we were delivering the profile. I had to ask not to travel in the same SUV as him. 
And this exhausting routine went on for days. In fact, I’d managed to almost go the entire case without interacting with him. That was until Hotch sent us both in the field to apprehend the unsub. 
“Are you sure?” I asked with clear reluctance. 
“Are you questioning me?” Hotch replied sternly. 
“No, sir.” 
I was already on thin ice being the new recruit, so I knew better than to question any of Hotch’s orders. And as miserable as working with Reid was, I figured he’d at least ease up on the hostility when we needed to be professional. Evidently though, even in the field, he wasn’t willing to work together with me. 
It was a quick decision, not careless in the least, however. The unsub had locked himself in his warehouse and refused to leave unless we were brave enough to drag him out of there ourselves. The ultimatum he gave specified that only one of us could do it and we both agreed that I should go in, seeing as he’d underestimate my strength as a woman, and I’d have the upperhand when I inevitably apprehended him. 
However, he also explicitly told us that I couldn’t come in with a gun - it had to be an even playing field. 
“You are not going in without a gun,”  Reid ordered. 
“We don’t have time to argue about this - I have a spare on me, okay? There are three hostages in there, two of which are children.” Without giving him a chance to respond, I handed him my gun and holster.
Had I let him waste a single second more of my time, we wouldn’t have been able to save the three hostages and successfully arrest the unsub. I saw this as a victory and I was almost willing to celebrate it with him, but it wasn’t long before he let our enmity tear us apart again. 
When we got back to the precinct, I went to the locker room to change, then suddenly, Hotch came in. 
“I’ve been informed that you went in unarmed against a fellow agent’s orders. This matter will be discussed in my office when we get back. I should warn you, (y/n), you do not want to make this mistake again.” Hotch left me with those foreboding words, and I knew, I knew immediately that Reid was to blame for this.
If I took a look in the mirror of my locker, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I saw that my face was turning a bright shade of red. I was fuming - bursting at the seams from the anger building within me that was desperately fighting to escape. I could imagine myself as a cartoon character with steam blowing out either of my ears. I was about to go on a rampage, and no one - absolutely no one - could stop me. 
The last straw was hearing him come in. This was my opportunity to unleash what was already boiling. 
“What the hell, Reid? ‘(y/n) went in unarmed.’ Seriously?!” I undid the velcro on my vest so hastily out of my blind rage that the spiky side of the velcro strip nearly sliced my finger. “Are you trying to get me fired?” 
“If that’s what it takes to make you realize how stupid of a choice that was, then yes, I do.” He was so calm and collected in his inflection that it angered me all the more. 
“What are you even talking about? What ‘stupid choice’? You knew I had a second gun on me. And even if I didn’t carry it, I still would’ve had my vest on. I wasn’t going in unarmed or unprotected, so why would you tell Hotch that?” 
“In the time it would take you to assess the danger, react, and then reach for the gun at your ankle, the unsub would’ve been able to shoot you twice - if not more. That’s going in unprepared, which is going in unarmed.”
I scoffed in disbelief that he was actually reprimanding me. “Are you kidding? This is all based on a technicality? Did your eidetic memory somehow forget about what happened with Maeve? Because my memory didn’t. I know for a fact that you went into that warehouse without a vest or a weapon. And unlike you, I had a spare and my vest. AND I actually apprehended the unsub. Did you stop Diane?”  
This crossed a line and I knew it, but it was too late to take it back, and clearly, it was much too late to repair any relationship I had with him. We were far beyond the point of no return. 
He was so mad that he didn’t even answer me. The only response I could gauge was from his body language, which by the looks of it, all the signs of anger were plain on his face. He clenched his jaw so hard I could hear his teeth grind. Even his nostrils flared so primitively. His eyes narrowed down at me with a glare that said, ‘I’m the predator and you’re the prey.’
“Yeah, exactly.” I spat when he stayed silent. 
I turned around, starting towards the exit, but I was too furious to stop there, so I spun around and unleashed the remainder of my wrath that had been dying to come out. 
“Look, I get it. I’m the new kid around here, and it sucks when someone new comes in and changes up the team dynamic, but any mistake I make, or any mistake Hotch thinks I make, could send me packing. You’ve been working in this unit for years, and even if Hotch questions your choices, he won’t reassign you. He won’t even threaten it. He’s willing to overlook your mistakes because he knows that what you have to contribute to the team is too vital to let go, but I haven’t even had my chance to show him what I have to offer. So when I do make a mistake, there is nothing for me to fall back on, nothing to redeem me, and no safety net, but you? You have years of experience on your back to break your fall. So don’t you dare act like you’re doing me a favor by reporting my ‘mistake’ to Hotch. You might be costing me my dream job, and if you think that makes us friends - think again.” 
I stormed out of the locker room seeing red. 
This war was far from over. 
_ _ _
“You’re clenching your fists again,” Emily said under her breath. I was grateful that she said it in a hushed tone, otherwise she might’ve revealed my lingering anger to the whole jet, which wouldn’t have been good. 
I immediately unclenched them, opening up my hands to reveal small, dark C shaped imprints on my palms from where my nails had dug into them. 
I should’ve expected that she would’ve learned at least one of my tells by now. I did have many after all. Cheek biting, fist-clenching, leg bouncing. 
“Something bothering you?” She probed quietly. 
She set her book down to give her undivided attention to this conversation. That was enough to tell me that an excuse like, ‘Nothing, I’m fine,’ would not suffice. She wouldn’t be satisfied until I told her the truth, which I surely did not want to tell. So I settled for a half-truth.
“Hotch wants to talk when we get back.” 
From my peripherals, I saw her knit her brows together in confusion. “Is . . . is that it?”
“Mhm.” I lied. 
“But that’s not enough to warrant the fist clenching. Cheek biting - sure - you do it when you’re anxious, but not fist-clenching. You only do that when you’re angry about something.” 
“Oh, so you have figured out all my tells,” I smirked.
“Pfft, I figured them all out the first week you got here, but I won’t tell you the rest, otherwise you might try and hide them from me,” She joked. 
I shook my head playfully. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m just worked up about something - it’s nothing you need to worry about though.” Habitually, my eyes looked right up in his direction. I caught a glimpse of him sprawled against the couch, sleeping. He was lucky I wasn’t ranting about the little stunt he pulled earlier to Emily. He should be thankful that I was even trying to protect his reputation to her at all. 
“I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but it does help. Take it from me, someone who really only trusts myself, you shouldn’t hide what you feel.” 
What you feel. 
I clung onto those words. 
What was I really feeling? 
Was I upset that instead of receiving praise for the arrest I made, I was scolded like a child? Was I angry that Hotch believed what Reid had to say about my “problematic behavior” instead of believing in me? 
Or did I feel betrayed that despite my best efforts to build a bridge, Reid was tearing it apart brick by brick? Burning it to pieces with the fire of his rage?
“Thanks.” I bleakly said to Emily. I would’ve told her the truth, but it didn’t feel necessary at that moment. If anything, it just would’ve reflected badly on me. 
Truthfully, she was the closest thing I had to a friend in the BAU, and if I wanted a permanent spot here, I needed to make more of them - and fast. 
“Hey, (y/n), we’re all going down to O’Keefs tonight to celebrate. You wanna join us?” Morgan asked, walking up the aisle and crouching down beside my seat to talk to me. 
“Oh, I wish I could, but I have to talk with Hotch when we get back,” I explained, smiling politely. 
“We can postpone the meeting till first thing Monday morning. I need to go home and be with Jack, anyway,” Hotch added. 
I didn’t realize he could hear me from where he was sitting, which made me all the more nervous that he might’ve overheard the entire conversation between me and Emily earlier. 
“Looks like I’m free,” I looked back at Morgan. “Does the offer still stand?”
“Anything for you, sweet cheeks.” He winked. 
Judging from the lightness of the atmosphere, everyone, except maybe Hotch and Rossi, would be celebrating at O’Keefs - including Spencer. 
I think I might’ve actually preferred to be scolded by Hotch tonight, instead of being silently glared at by Spencer, but it was already too late to revoke my confirmation of presence. 
Because, if Hotch could hear me from where he was sitting, then Spencer could, too. 
He already heard I was coming, and there was no way I was backing down.
_ _ _ 
In spite of the fact that I could barely hear myself think over the loud chatter and blasting music, I could still feel the rage radiating off of Spencer. You would think with how long his nap was on the jet, he wouldn’t be so cranky, but I guess he just couldn’t sleep off his disdain for me after our minor altercation. 
I wondered if the team could see it, too. The way he was burning a hole into me with his fiery stare. The tension was palpable, as it has always been, but remember - I’m not the one who wanted it that way. 
He started this. I was only making the feeling mutual. 
“So what about you, (y/n)? Are you seeing anyone?” 
I tried to hide my growing smirk behind the rim of my beer, but I knew I couldn’t hide much from them. Of course, right across from me, Spencer was glaring at me expectantly, waiting for the answer he already knew. 
“Oooh, look at her - she’s blushing! Spill.” Penelope ordered, beating her palm on the table so enthusiastically it shook all the drinks on it.  
“Well, there’s this one guy I’ve been seeing for a while,” The second I started speaking, I noticed Spencer rolling his eyes. I figured his apprehension was the only response of its kind that I would receive, but I was very mistaken. 
“How did you two meet?” Penelope giddily asked, nearly jumping up and down in her seat. 
“A dating app, actually.” 
The table went completely silent, and I immediately felt my stomach drop. It was as if I’d just said something very wrong. With just a quick glance in front of me, Spencer was basking in this. 
What a dick.
Emily hesitated to ask. “...Have you two met in person before?” 
Now it was my turn to hesitate to speak. “No, not yet.” 
I took another sip of my drink even though I wasn’t thirsty. I just wanted to hide any part of my face I could to shield myself from the five sets of eyes burning holes into me now, rather than just the one. Trying to make matters better, I spoke all too quickly, nearly sputtering on my beer. “I’m completely safe, though. Nothing sketchy’s going on, I promise.” 
“Of course,” JJ agreed. “We totally trust you,” neglecting to attach the cliche, ‘It’s him we don’t trust.’ But if she had, it would’ve spoken everyone’s bubble thoughts right about now. 
“Just be careful, mama.” Derek’s response felt the most sincere, and I honestly believed he was happy for me, but it didn’t change how much their judgement initially stung. 
For the rest of the night, I didn’t talk. No one noticed. 
Except maybe the last person I wanted to notice. 
I quietly slipped away somewhere in the night when the conversation was at its highest precisely so they wouldn’t question where I was going or if I was okay. If they had asked, the truthful answer to the former would’ve been ‘just outside to get some air’ and the latter ‘no.’
The cool breeze drifted through the door like rising fog and for the briefest moment in time, I felt suspended in the space around me - I’d finally caught my breath. That feeling wouldn’t last long, though. 
I’d intentionally gone outside to compose myself until I came back a person who wasn’t on the verge of tears, but apparently, trying to pull myself only resulted in my falling apart. A ball of yarn unraveling is the closest comparison I can draw to what I must’ve looked like, crying quietly on the street.
“I figured I’d find you here.” 
It was the mere sound of someone’s voice that shocked me, but it was the person whose voice it was that led to the frustration that followed. 
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be inside talking to the team of people who also agree with you about Grant?” 
He was too much of a nuisance to warrant exchanging eye contact with so I simply stared forward as I spoke and wiped the tears away that were still pooling on my lower lash line. I hoped he hadn’t actually seen me crying, but from what I could tell, he was probably standing there long before he said something. And if he was truly looking at me as deeply as it felt like right now, then he’d have noticed my bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks, and unending sniffling. 
“Is that why you disappeared back there? Because you’re upset they didn’t exactly like the idea of your relationship?” The pain in the ass really tried, he really tried to get me to look at him by facing me and making these gestures with his hands that should’ve gotten my attention, but instead, I stayed put leaning against the wall, keeping my line of sight straight ahead. 
“(Y/n), they weren’t insulting you or judging you -”
“Then why did it feel like it?” For the first time since he’d joined me, I’d looked at him. I didn’t even mean to and I had every intention of denying him that privilege for the entire duration of our conversation, but as soon as I asked him my question, we locked eyes, and I saw it written all over his face. 
He felt sorry for me. 
Now, he could clearly make out how distraught I was from this unobstructed view of my face that was kindled by the dim, flickering yellow glow of the streetlight beside us. And he kept staring, looking into my eyes to read me just as easily and just as quickly as he read a book. 
“All we want is for you to be safe,” His voice crackled momentarily, and it actually touched some part of me for how genuine it sounded. “We weren’t trying to judge you or to insult you, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but if we want your safety, and you tell us about something that could be potentially harmful, then of course we’re going to be apprehensive about it. That’s how people that care about you should react.”
“So are you saying that I don’t care about myself because I’m engaging in something risky?” Isn’t that the most ironic statement of this year? The definition of our job was risky, and even if this wasn’t the safest relationship on the planet, it was nothing like what we put ourselves through everyday being in the field. 
“No, that’s not what I’m saying -”
“So what are you saying?” I dared. He shook his head and sighed like he was about to give up, but I needed an answer. “No, please, do continue. Finish what you were gonna say. Since you apparently know everything, 187. Please go ahead - tell me what you think I should do.” 
Tell me what you really came out here to say, I ordered him with my eyes.
“I think I respect you more than you respect yourself, and that’s really saying something. Because if you actually liked yourself as much as I do, then you would realize that subjecting yourself to this nonsensicality of a long-distance relationship is not only dangerous - but insulting to your worth, too. You deserve more than that, (y/n).” He couldn’t have been clearer when he murmured a low and firm, “Much more.” 
The world was spinning on its axis too fast for me to process anything he said before snapping back at him. “So what exactly is it you want me to do?”
With utmost clarity in both annunciation and intention, he told me, “Break up with him.” 
Not a shadow of a doubt in his words. 
Then, like the phantom of the opera himself, he vanished back into the bar, but even if he had stayed, I wouldn’t have had anything to say to him. I was simply rendered speechless.
Circling back to my previous argument, I questioned once more why was it any of his business anyway? I was allowed to do as I pleased and I most certainly did not have to listen to him. And I didn’t. 
But I should’ve. 
_ _ _ 
My Monday morning meeting with Hotch wasn’t nearly as fire and brimstone as I thought it would be. It did however feel like the equivalent to an “I’m disappointed in you” parent speech. In some ways, I related to the average teen who was grounded. Except instead of my phone being taken away, it was my freedom. From now on, I could only follow executive orders that had been given to me. At least for the time being. 
It was clear that, deep down, some part of Hotch knew what I’d done was the right call, but he couldn’t give me any favors. Not until they were deserved on my end. 
Walking onto the jet after our meeting, however, felt more juvenile than the punishment itself. I was a kid again, re-entering my classroom after using the restroom, only to have all eyes on me as I came through the door.
As per usual, the only empty chair was next to Reid. There’d been too many instances of this happening to think it was just a coincidence. At this point, I had to assume it was by design. Whose design however? That I didn’t know.
“Hello, trouble,” He sang when I took my seat. 
I could only assume that this new nickname was based on what took place in Hotch’s office - thanks to him, need I remind you - but I didn’t care to know the origin because that would require talking to him, and for several reasons, that was the last thing I wanted to do. The first of which was what happened less than three days ago. An event we both hadn’t mentioned yet, and I hoped we never would. 
I took every preventative measure in the book. I changed seats with JJ. I moved to the couch. I even started reading in the little hallway between the kitchenette and bathroom of the jet to avoid sitting beside him, but against all my best efforts, he always found a way to bug me. When there’s a will, there’s a way. After exhausting any real reason he had to talk to me, he had to get creative. 
“You’ve been on that same page for four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.” I heard him say when he walked up to the kitchen to reach for the pot of coffee. Almost expecting I’d ask him what he meant, he added the explanation casually. “It never takes you more than three minutes and twelve seconds to move onto the next page. So either you’re not understanding the material or you’re not actually reading.”
It was utterly hilarious of him to imply that either of those things were definitely the answer. “What if I’m just taking my time reading this page, genius? Ever thought of that?” 
His eyes turned into slits as he leaned in closer to examine me. “You’re blinking rate just increased, too.”
“Stop!” I screeched childishly, pushing him away by his shoulders in an attempt to get him off my back, but he was far from off my back. No, he was right against it. More specifically, his hand was on the small of it. 
Leaning in so close that his lips were practically pressing on the shell of my ear, he whispered, “Come find me when you’re ready to tell me the truth.”
He didn’t need to know his words or actions had any sort of effect on me, so I kept the most stoic facial expression on, and I didn’t say a single thing back. He turned back around to leave with the hand on my back being the last thing to go. His lingering touch caused a shiver to run down my spine while paradoxically burning my body from the friction. 
I was disgusted with myself for having let him elicit any sort of reaction from me, even if he wasn’t aware of it. 
“Yeah ... well, d-don’t expect that to be anytime soon,” was my poor attempt at a retort to shut him up.
“Whatever you say, trouble.” 
_  _ _ 
Personal space can be a wonderful thing. Much less so when it’s invaded, however. 
After what felt like the longest flight ever, all I wanted was to take a shower and go to bed. My wishes were granted when I was able to wash off the stress and exhaustion and slip into a blush pink satin pajama set Grant sent me that I’d been meaning to wear. The plunging neck of the tank top was lined with lace and adorned with the tiniest little bow at the center. To match the shirt, the hem of the shorts were lined with lace that trailed up the small triangular slits on the side of the shorts, where at the vertex of them was the same little bow detail. For such a pure and innocent color as baby pink, you’d think it’d be somewhat less revealing. The longer I started at myself in the mirror while wearing it, the more aware I’d become of the intentions behind why Grant had sent it. 
How cute, I thought, rolling my eyes.
Gifts should always be appreciated, if for no other reason than the effort put into it, but this just felt slimy. There was obviously no valiant romantic intent behind the negligee, which spoiled the delight of receiving something out of the blue from him. What’s worse was that I wasn’t even sure how to thank him for something like this. 
Me: thank you for the pajamas. they’re so cute!
Lying was easier over text message, in case you were wondering what the perks of a long distance relationship were. 
Grant: good, I’m glad you like them. are you wearing them right now? 
But sometimes, when you should lie, you don’t. And you regret it later on - take it from me. 
Me: yeah, they’re super comfy
Grant: great! i wanna see them on! take a pic 
As if to compensate for the indisputable hatred I had for this lingerie and what it stood for in our relationship, I did the only thing I could think that would make him think I really liked them. That I felt good in them. 
I took pictures - not your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, Yelp review pictures, though - provocative ones. 
In the same breath I went to take them, though, Spencer’s words rang through my head. 
You deserve more than that. Much more. 
Shaking off the thought of Spencer, I decided against what the little voice in my head that sounded too similar to his would’ve said. 
To add to the illusion, I situated myself within the hotel sheets and used the front camera to capture my chest that was very much on display in this top. In the middle of rolling around the bed, trying to find the angles that wouldn’t show my face of dejection, the door opened. 
Instantaneously, I clawed at the sheets until they wrapped around me like a towel. I was ashamed to admit they provided more coverage than these ‘pajamas’ did.
My shriek of shock must’ve sounded familiar to the stranger intruding on me because no sooner did I scream than they questioned, “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?”
Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. 
“Spencer, what the hell are you doing in here?” I grumbled, struggling to maintain a tight enough grip on the sheets that would keep them from falling and unveiling a sight I desperately did not want him to see. 
“I asked you first.” 
Boy, if you only knew how badly I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face. “This is my hotel room obviously. Your turn.” 
Returning just the same tone, inflection, and vocals, he imitated me. “This is my hotel room obviously.” Like one of those magic tricks he’d show Henry or Jack, he miraculously flashed a room key between his index and middle finger that wasn’t there before. 
“No, that’s impossible.”
“I opened the door, didn’t I?” That damn smirk was still there when he asked this. Maybe, just maybe, if it hadn’t been so condescending, I would’ve thought his sarcasm was ... attractive. Disgusting, I know. 
“Well, if you actually plan on staying here, then you’re sleeping on the floor or the couch, got it?”
My question went unanswered until I turned around to follow where he’d traveled in the time that I spent pondering how this happened. Now perched at the window, sitting on the arm of the chair in a way that chairs weren’t meant to be sat on, he continued to stare silently at me. 
“What? What is it?” I urged. 
“What’s going on with the …” He made a side to side sweeping motion with his key card. “Bed sheets?” 
Consciously, I shimmied the fabric further up my body. Seeing as there was virtually no way to escape an honest answer, I confessed. “If you must know ... I’m wearing p-pajamas.” My own body was rejecting the shameful admission causing the word to stumble out of my mouth. 
He didn’t need to know any more than that to gather what kind of garments they were. He already figured it out.
“Did Grant give them to you?”
I almost rolled my eyes at the implication. “What makes you say that?” 
“Because I know you,” He punctuated every word perfectly. “And I know that you wear big shirts and sweatpants to bed because you don’t see the point of spending money on clothes that are only made for you to sleep in - especially if they’re clothes that make you uncomfortable like these ones clearly do.” 
Although, I greatly despised the fact that there was even a little bit of a chance that I might’ve agreed with him, I still defended Grant. “It was a thoughtful gesture.”
“Thoughtful, right,” He scoffed. “And which head was he thinking with?” 
I was baffled he had the gall to say such an innuendo. “Spencer!”
How dare he? So what if Grant bought me something provocative because he was physically attracted to me? At least someone was. 
Despite the ferocity plain on his face, he chose not to pursue this conversation. Visibly biting back on words he knew would hurt me, Spencer managed to sound remarkably genuine when he promised me, “I won’t look if you don’t want me to.” 
I want you to, was my very first thought. Oh, God, that’s so fucked up, was my second. 
He underlined his sincerity by turning fully around until he was facing the window. “But we should probably put the sheets back on the bed if you plan on sleeping on it.”
He was so patient as he waited for me to remove the cloth from my body. It almost made me feel guilty. He didn’t grumble or gripe, nor did he pressure me to do it at all. So by rights, there should’ve been no reason for me to take so long to let the barrier fall - he wasn’t looking at me. But I was just so goddamn embarrassed. 
This wasn’t me, and even he knew that. 
“You can turn around now,” I mumbled quietly once my safety net of a bedsheet had abandoned me. My arms were crossed over my chest and my thighs were pressed so tightly against each other as if to limit the surface area that Spencer could scrutinize. 
That never came. 
He did look, I could tell that much. But it wasn’t a look I’d ever seen before. It wasn’t rage or annoyance or pity. It was a look of lust. 
A look that made me positively weak in the knees. A look far more sensual than even my racy garments. 
“I’ll just sleep in Morgan’s room tonight, okay?” He offered once he finally broke out of his incapacitation. Grabbing the two opposite corners of the sheets that I was holding, it was a team effort as we arranged the covers where they belonged. It was probably the longest period of time we’d ever worked together without fighting or talking at all for that matter..
Not a single word was exchanged between us while Spencer gathered his things to leave for Derek’s. The room started to feel dangerously empty in the stillness. 
When he slipped past me to make his way out, I caught his upper arm, successfully pulling him back around.
I could’ve been sweet, I should’ve. But that wasn’t our thing. So I settled for what came naturally to us and what would set off the least amount of red flags - I didn’t play nice. “As long as you promise not to hog the entire bed with your behemoth body, we can sleep together -” Catching the words as soon as they came out and what they could’ve implied, I began backtracking. “Sleep in the same bed. Sleep as in rest. Not sleep as in … anything else.” 
Then, in one of those rare moments- he laughed. He actually laughed. Like a real, hearty, sudden laugh. “I know what you meant, (y/n).” 
I’ll never forget the smile that followed the world’s greatest laugh either. 
Oh, God, I’m so fucked up. 
_ _ _
Spencer’s POV
Domesticated animals are smarter than we give them credit for. Studies have shown that pets can actually sense time; They know when it’s time for their owner to leave for the day and when they’ll be coming home, too. 
Animals aren’t dumb - and neither was I. 
Like a dog sniffing out their owner’s imminent absence in the home, I could tell (y/n) was leaving the hotel room for the night. If her current state wasn’t convincing enough, then her behavior throughout the entire day supported that theory just as well. 
Whether it was her phone, the clock on the wall, or her watch, she was evidently keeping a close eye on the time. She did it so often, though, that you would think she would just use simple deductions to figure out what time it was by estimating the time it was when she last checked, but nope. She rarely let more than a minute go by without monitoring the clock.
My suspicions didn’t end there. What’s more suggestive was the anxious fidgeting. She had her tells of anxiety - everyone does - but this was a level of stress I’d never seen her exhibit before, not even in the field. 
She kept cracking her knuckles, even when she’d exhausting all the popping noises she could from them. Her leg-bobbing was another big tell, too. I tend to sit on tables rather than in the chairs at said table, allowing me to feel the earthquake occurring on the precinct floor. Her leg was bouncing up and down so vigorously it was practically shaking the room. 
I would’ve asked her what she was so impatient about, but I feared I already knew the answer.
Grant.
And if I never heard that name roll off her tongue again, it would be too soon. 
That didn’t mean I couldn’t ask where she was going, though.
Pretending to read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, I barely let my eyes venture far off the page when I loudly asked from the window seat, “So where are you going tonight, trouble?” 
The faintest sound of a chuckle erupted in the bathroom, most likely from the nickname I hadn’t let die yet. 
“Nunya,” was her ever-so mature answer. 
I didn’t want to give her the chance to say ‘nunya business’ like I knew she would, so I quickly interjected with a monotone, “How clever of you.” If she wanted to be a child about this, then so be it. 
“Let’s see. You brought your good heels out of your suitcase, which you only wear on special occasions. And you put on a different perfume than the one you usually use, so I’m assuming it’s new. ... If I didn’t know any better, trouble, I’d say you’re going on a date.” 
She peeked her head out of the bathroom doorway to say, “You’re creepy, you know that?” 
Seeing the small portion of her face that was embellished with a smile would’ve been enough if only I knew what dress she was hiding in behind that wall. I had yet to see that part of her ensemble, but if I had to guess, it would break my heart. 
“Just saying,” I casually lied while clearing my throat. 
“Well,” I heard her begin from within the bathroom. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Grant is meeting me tonight.” 
Kill me now.
“I thought Grant lived in D.C.” Not that that would change much if he was already here. 
“Yes, he does, but he’s driving all the way here to meet me. Seeee,” She drew out the word. “Would a serial killer do that?” 
I refrained from giving the obvious answer: Yes. 
“Well, I hope you don’t plan on bringing him back here. Otherwise, that’d be terribly awkward, don’t you think?” My allusion to the possibility that Grant would come back here to find me in her bed was borne from the intentions that were a complete contradiction to the words I’d just spoken. It, in fact, wouldn’t be terribly awkward. No, it would be fun. For me at least. 
I would have loved to have seen the look on his face, and the worry on hers as she tried to explain who I was and why I had any right to be in (y/n)’s gravity. 
The room went silent again while I stayed on the same page of my book and, unbeknownst to her, waited for her to enter the room. How long she was taking was starting to worry me, though. 
“Need any help in there?” I called out.
“Nope,” She said through a strained voice that proved she was indeed struggling with something. 
“Really?” I asked once more to give her another opportunity to lower her colossal pride. “Cause it sounds like you need help.” 
“Nope. I’m good.” Liar. 
I knew her too well. I counted down to the exact second when she finally scrambled to ask, “Can you help me zip up my dress?”
“Yyyup.” I’d already resigned to the fact that I would have to help her, bouncing happily off the bed when she finally admitted it and letting myself lose the page I was on as I tossed the book haphazardly behind me. 
I was forced to join her in the bathroom for it was already hard for her to humble herself enough to ask me for help, so she certainly couldn’t be expected to lower her pride again and walk out to a place more convenient for me. 
The first thing I noticed was that it was a space clearly not made for two. It was so cramped that I ended up right against her in order to fit. The second thing I noticed was how she made no movements to distance herself. She was so close to me that I could actually see the little hairs on the back of her neck standing up from where my breath ghosted on the area. The sterile smell of hotel bathrooms had been replaced by the flowery, aromatic scent of her new perfume, and my heart broke all over again. 
Using the back of my fingers, I cast a barely-there caress on her neck to stroke her hair out of the way to clear the path of the zipper. The little hairs on the back of her neck stood up again. 
She liked that.
“So do I get to know where you’re going?” I reached for the zipper on the small of her back. “For safety purposes, of course.” 
“Aww, you looking out for me, Dr. Reid?” She teased in a seductive tone while gathering her hair into a makeshift ponytail that for the shortest second recorded in time might’ve reminded me of a constantly recurring intrusive image. 
“Always, trouble.” 
The zipper fastened with absolutely no resistance all the way to the top. My eyes flashed to the mirror to catch her expression, which told me everything I needed to know. 
What a pretty little liar. She didn’t actually need my help. 
Comprehending that the realization dawned on me, she gave me what she knew would shut me up. “We’re going to The Rooftop at Lamont’s.” 
How effortlessly she slipped past me without a thank you or a glance in my direction served as a rude awakening.
“Well, you should take an umbrella with you. It looks like there’s gonna be a storm tonight.” This was my small way of coming to terms with the reality of the situation. 
“Eh,” She waved my suggestion off with a dismissive hand. “We’ll be fine. Oh, and don’t even think about stalking me!” She warned before exiting the room.
In the blink of an eye, she was gone - my peace of mind having left with her. 
_ _ _ 
The amount of sleep you need varies for each person and is affected by several factors. However, for most adults, 7–9 hours per night is the ideal amount. And I was slowly reducing that optimal quantity, hour by hour, until there was none left. 
I would continue to sacrifice my sleep so long as I was awake for her return. If she’d asked why I was still up, I would lie. Though I wouldn’t look half so pretty as she did when she lied. 
Losing rest seemed like such a small price to pay to make sure I was fully alert in the event that an emergency happened, even if I would suffer the consequences in the morning. But hey - that’s what caffeine is for, isn’t it? To re-energize oneself after staying up to guarantee one’s enemy’s safety. 
Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly why Kaldi invented coffee in 750 A.D. 
Besides the thunderstorm, my mind also made great company for situations like these. Granted, the visions it would project kept me up for a reason - they were all so awful. 
There was simply no projected reality where things would turn out alright. 
If she had the time of her life on her date, she would come back to throw it in my face that I’d been wrong, and her admiration for Grant would have deepened. 
Or if he stood her up, she’d be devastated, but instead of letting me console her, she’d push me away as easily as she always did.
In a more neutral instance, perhaps she would admit it wasn’t as great meeting him as she thought it would be and the relationship would fade out for innocent reasons. Even if that seemed like the most favorable circumstance, she would eventually grow to resent me for planting the seed of doubt in her head in the first place.
But nothing- nothing I could have imagined would be as treacherous as what actually happened.
At exactly 1:09 a.m, my phone started to ring. I can’t explain to you what it was, but I just knew - it was her calling, and it wasn’t even her number.
“(Y/n)? Is everything okay?” 
If she said something beforehand, I couldn’t hear her because the storm was too loud and her voice was too quiet. “Did I wake you up?” 
I reassured her with a tone I didn’t even recognize. “No, no. I was awake. Why? What’s up?” The line went quiet again, forcing me to prompt her to speak in order to find out if she was still there on the call. “(Y/n)?”
“Spencer ...” She choked out a hoarse sob. “I need you. I need you to come get me, please.” 
My eyes clenched shut at the dreadful sound of her sorrow, and I jolted into action. After scrambling to gather the keys to her car that she’d left behind, I fled the room faster than ever before. 
“I’m on my way, (y/n). Stay right there. You’re at The Rooftop at Lamont’s right?” 
The poor thing took the longest pause in history, either from shame or disorientation. “He threw me in the back of his car and drove me all the way to D.C. I …” Her breath caught on her dry throat again. “I, um, I managed to escape and now I’ve barricaded myself in a payphone booth. I haven’t called the police yet. You were the first person I thought to call. I just, I just needed to hear your voice.”
My knuckles turned an unfamiliar shade of white when I gripped the steering wheel, picturing her caged up in a rectangular box, dialing my number instead of 911 just so she could hear my voice.
“Everything is gonna be okay. I promise you. My ETA is 1:28. That’s in 19 minutes. Are you okay being there for that long or do you want to find somewhere safer?”
I could no longer distinguish the difference between talking to her right now and talking to a victim in distress. I was speaking with the same tone and inflection but feeling a sharp pain in my chest that wasn’t there before. 
“I can stay here. Just ... don’t hang up, okay?” The fact that the possibility of me abandoning her over the phone even crossed her mind was more than enough to get me to drive well over the speed limit. 
The list of traffic infractions only grew from there because honestly? Screw my safety or anyone else’s. Her’s was the only one that mattered. She was the priority. 
She was my priority. 
Throughout the entire call, I kept repeating, “You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.” Frankly, it was something we both needed to hear. 
It was both the fastest and slowest 19 minutes of my life. Time no longer felt real when I finally found the payphone booth that boxed in my troublesome girl. No sooner did I drive up to the sidewalk than I ran out of the car to sprint the short distance to free her from her coop.
“(Y/n)!” I shouted, swinging the door open and throwing caution to the wind in the process. Immediately, she dropped the phone, not even bothering to replace it onto its receiver. 
The pouring rain had stripped her of her dignity. Mascara ran down her face in pigmented streams of black. Her curled hair was dampened into strings. But worse of all, it hadn’t washed away the darkening bruises on her skin.
“Oh my god, Spencer!” She cried as she ran into my open arms. 
Her body collided with mine in such a gentle manner that I had to wonder how that was possible at all or if it was a figment of my imagination. Was our collision actually that gentle or did it seem that way because of how good it felt to have her arms and legs latch around my entire torso, crossing and connecting somewhere in between?
With one arm under her thighs to hold her up, I pulled her impossibly closer to me by cradling the back of her head with the other hand. 
Her small hands found their way into my hair, a new sensation I tried not to indulge in so as not to let my attention stray away from the little life I was holding in my arms. 
She was so cold. 
Shivering from my warm embrace, her teeth chattered as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Spencer. You were right I should’ve listened -”
“Shh, it’s okay, (y/n),” I said with the hopes that I could make the pounding heart that was thumping against my shoulder settle down until it reached her standard heart rate of 67 beats per minute. 
After a second of just holding her wordlessly, she spoke again. 
“I don’t wanna fight.” She surrendered so easily to me that I could hardly believe this was her at all. 
“I don’t wanna fight with you either.” 
That was entirely true. Fighting with her was the last thing on my mind. The first was getting her into my car. 
It was easier that I imagined it would be, but then again, it’s easy to do things when you’re motivated in this way. 
Before I loosened my hold on her to shut the passenger door, she squeezed me a little tighter, as if to be absolutely certain this was real and not some cruel dream.
“Thank you,” She hummed into the crook of my neck. From where her shoulder was digging into my throat, I couldn’t exactly respond verbally, so I settled for rubbing my hand up and down her back comfortingly. 
“Let’s take you home,” I basically said to myself seeing as it was too quiet to be discernible. 
“No,” She shook her head rapidly. “Take me to your apartment.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to go back to the hotel right now. I need to be somewhere I feel safe.”
My apartment is closer than the hotel, I reasoned, pretending it was the logic of it that made my heart swell and not the statement I would fixate on for the entire duration of the ride there. 
I need to be somewhere I feel safe. 
And that’s wherever I’m with you.
_ _ _ 
Reader’s POV
Porcelain wall tiles gleamed back at me, mocking my wretched misery. They were much prettier than me, but then again, anything else would be prettier than me right about now.
I certainly wasn’t the belle of the ball in my bare naked state. The fact that I was sitting in a pool of my own washed off dried blood didn’t help either.
I would’ve looked away from the bright white walls, but where else were I to look? Into the pair of eyes that I was deliberately avoiding? The ones that were staring a hole through me right now? No. I couldn’t bear to meet those eyes. So I kept looking forward at the mean walls - those mean, mocking walls.
“Is the water warm enough?” He asked, dipping a finger into the bathwater to test it himself. 
I watched as his hand snuck into the tub and swirled around some water, causing soap bubbles to revitalize. 
For a reason I didn’t know nor could remember at this given moment, Spencer drove me to his apartment. That memory of why I was here was fuzzy, but the rest following my arrival was more vivid. Perhaps because it was all unfolding right now.
“I think I should go,” I murmured. The bathwater had gone cold, and the silence was too deafening. If I didn’t leave now, then I would be trapped forever. 
I leaned forward with my knees still pressed to my chest to protect my modesty while I tugged on the silver drain plug of the tub to release the suction.
“You can’t go home. You’ll be alone again, and who will be there to help you that time?” 
“I don’t need anybody’s help.” I responded curtly. 
“Then why did you call me tonight?”
“Why did you answer?” 
He was stunned by how I didn’t miss a beat with my question, stunned enough to purse his lips in contempt. “Should I have declined your call then? Said ‘no’ instead and let you fend for yourself? You know what - my bad, (y/n). I sincerely apologize that I care about you.” 
I scoffed at his factiousness. “No, what you should’ve done is whatever the hell you wanted to do. But clearly, since you said ‘yes’ and came to my rescue like I’m some victim in a case - you wanted to be there. I could chalk that up to you having a hero complex, but I think it’s time for you to admit you just wanted to see me at my worst so you could throw it in my face like you’re doing right now.”
He clenched his jaw in fury, muttering under his breath, “I should’ve left you in that booth.” 
This crossed a line, but I was just as ready to cross it, too. 
“But I bet you liked saving me. Seeing me as a damsel in distress that you could white knight. You like that, Spence? Does my weakness settle your deep rooted fear of inadequacy in strength?”
Shouldn’t have done that. 
For a second there, I was sincerely scared of the response I might’ve just elicited, so I shot up from the tub and grabbed the towel on the rack, quickly wrapping myself in it and avoiding Spencer’s gaze the entire way out of the bathroom.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Judging from the loudness of his voice, he was right on my heels, following me close behind. 
“You’re smart. Figure it out.” 
“God, why do you have to be such a pain in the ass? I don’t want to leave you like this.” It never failed to amaze me how he could both show disdain and concern for me in the matter of a sentence. 
“Well, you’re not leaving me like this - I’m leaving you like this.” My clever remark angered him more.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, Spencer called out from the end of his hallway, “What are you so scared of?” 
Reaching the end of my rapidly fraying rope, I spun around to throw my arms out to my side in just the same defensive manner as he did. “Nothing! Maybe I just don’t wanna be stuck in the apartment of the man who hates me! Can you blame me?” 
He ran a hasty hand through his hair, pulling at the strands out of pure irritation. “Why do you keep saying I hate you? How can any of what I’ve done for you tonight suggest that?”
He’d chosen his words carefully and for that, he was smart. His inclusivity of the word ‘tonight’ meant I could only reference his actions from the past few hours, which wouldn’t help my case, as opposed to the months and months that he’d given me the cold shoulder, which would have helped my case. But again, he was smart - he had me in a deadlock. I couldn’t accept defeat, but what could I possibly argue against his point? 
My body literally shook from the power of the deep groan that tore through my chest. “God, what do you want from me, Spencer?” I wanted nothing more than to be far, far away from him, but my body was resisting all those urges. Lunging forward, I pointed the sternest index finger at him, staring the most unforgiving glare into his soul. “Tell me - tell me what you want! Because when I was nice to you, you-you treated me like shit. And then when I stopped being nice to you, you still treated me like shit. So what -” I had to laugh to alleviate the sheer rage I was feeling. “What the fuck do you want from me? Because it’s like no matter what I do, it’s just not good enough for you!”
His eyebrows had furrowed and his eyes softened. He didn’t look angry whatsoever. No, he looked hurt. 
“Not good enough for me?” He leaned down to my level to look right into my eyes. “You are everything … everything to me.”
With one last breath, I cried out in anguish, “Then why? Why do you hate me so much?” 
He gulped back the lump in his throat - the last barrier that kept him from telling the truth. 
“I ... I never hated you. I just need to be in control of my thoughts and feelings at all times, otherwise, I feel-I feel like I’m going crazy. Like I’m on the verge of a psychotic break that I’m genetically predisposed to have. But when you came around - I lost all my control. You were inhabiting my dreams, you were stealing my sleep, occupying more and more space in my brain until there was no more room left to take. God, I think about you all the time, and I literally cannot physically stop it. I have no control anymore,” and somehow him saying that sounded something like an ‘I love you.’ 
“The only thing I could control was how I treated you. I thought being awful to you would get you to despise me enough to make me despise you, too, and while it was easier to be angry at you, it was so much worse having you hate me.”
“I never hated you, Spencer.” Never. 
“You should have,” He rasped. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I wish to spend every day proving that I want you. Oh, I want you so bad,” He sharply inhaled through gritted teeth, and I unconsciously laughed in return. His pain wasn’t funny in the least. What was amusing was knowing that he had the same excruciating longing for me that I had for him. 
“I don’t want control anymore if it means I can’t have you.”
He leaned in so carefully that I almost didn't register the movement at all. Our hearts were pounding to the same synchronized beat. We were the shore and the tide one in the same. Our breaths would draw in and out, in and out, as he held my face so gently. We were still the shore and the tide, but more than anything we were drowning in the ocean of ourselves. The rising waters of his admiration threatened to flood every empty nook and cranny of the room until it swallowed me whole. All I could feel was him, everywhere, filling absolutely everything. 
“Wow ... I finally got you speechless,” The cocky bastard hummed happily, letting his words vibrate on the smallest part of my lip.
“Oh, shut up,” I declared through a smirk I needed to fight off before finally closing that nearly imperceptible gap between us. 
All the forces in the world couldn’t tear us apart after we connected. They were no match for the force Spencer’s hands had as they pulled me impossibly closer. The pressure might’ve even been unbearable had it not been for the velvety pair of lips giving me back all the oxygen it stole from my lungs just seconds ago. They were so soft, like freshly washed sheets, like biting into cotton candy, like floating for the first time, feeling utterly weightless in water. It’s sweet, it’s so effortlessly sweet. 
Not nearly as sweet as the words that followed our parting. 
“Not enough for me?” He repeated, recalling my previous claim. “You’ve had me since the day you walked in, trouble.” 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
fingers crossed this fic doesn’t flop!
complete taglist: @muffin-cup @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person @masumiyetimziyanoldu @dreamer-writer-fangirl @kalamitykait @jinxy175 @apolloroid 
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dreamingaboutreid · 3 years
Text
Hospital Bed Confessions: Chapter 1
Link to Summary/Masterlist
*Present time – in the car*
Y/N’s POV:
"So, Agent Y/L/N. Your reputation precedes you," said Agent Luke Alvez in a polite but warm manner.
"Please call me, Y/F/N. I'm guessing Penny might have mentioned me a few times?" you said as you shortly diverted your eyes from the road to give the agent sitting in the passenger seat a genuine smile.
"Oh, a 'few times' doesn't explain it. When we heard that we were working with your team on this case, Garcia dragged me to her dungeon and gave me a 2-hour powerpoint lecture on how amazing you are," Agent Alvez said jokingly.
"I’d expect nothing less from Penny. I would've been disappointed if she did," you joked back.
Alvez's laid-back attitude and your welcoming personality matched well, and you were glad that someone like him was part of the BAU.
“A profiler, linguist, and negotiator. That’s no small feat,” he said.
“I’ve heard you been in the hospital bed more times than anyone on team,” Alvez continued with a sense of respect.
“Haha, that’s true. I guess hospitals just call out my name on every case,” you said, slightly embarrassed while trying to suppress both sad and happy memories that seemed to flood into your head. Hospitals, specifically hospital beds, held a very unique place in your heart. It was the place where you had both the happiest and saddest memories of your life. But you didn’t want to reveal it to Alvez. At least not just yet.
“Don’t get humble on me, Y/N. According to Rossi, everyone on the team owes you at least once for saving their lives. You won’t hesitate to put yourself in a bullet to protect your teammates. That’s an aspect I truly respect and admire, agent,” Alvez continued.
“Well, you know how the team is our family. I’m sure they would’ve taken the same risks for me,” you said with confidence.
“Sure, but it’s not something that comes naturally,” he replied.
With a bit of hesitation, you said, “I was in the military.”
This answer seemed to genuinely take Luke by surprise.
“Oh, wow. That info wasn’t in Garcia’s powerpoint,” he stated.
You gave a light laugh. You were thankful that Garcia didn’t reveal something so personal about you but also knew that it was a story that would’ve been hard for her to tell without watching 3-hour cat videos afterwards to brighten back her mood.
“I was in the US military too. 75th Rangers,” he revealed.
“I could tell. The way that you talk and carry yourself reminds me of the brothers from my squad,” you reminisced.
“Ahh, the brotherhood bond you make in the military is unbreakable. It’s practically sacred. Seeing and experiencing the things you see…” he trailed.
The silence was filled with mutual understanding.
“I actually just visited a friend from my squad. He’s doing PT and it was good to see him doing well. Do you still see your squad around?” he asked.
You debated whether or not to tell him. But his understanding of the military and the fact that he was family of the family you were once part of allowed yourself to answer what should be a seemingly harmless question.
“Just one. Jim. We joined the FBI at the same time after we were discharged. I used to see him around a lot back when I was at Quantico. We still keep in touch,” you replied.
“Can I ask what you did in your unit?”
“I was a hostage negotiator on a task force in Afghanistan. I was in a squad that went house to house to identify potential threats and negotiate with possible terrorists, attackers, or civilians with hostages.”
“Wow. That must’ve been tough. Entering into houses where you’re obviously not welcomed and trying to convince them the impossible.”
“Yeah, Rossi helped me out a lot when everyone found out,” you said.
Wanting to switch the conversation, you said,
"It gets easier, by the way."
"What does?" he replied curiously.
"Liking someone on the team," you replied with an all-knowing smile.
Even with your eyes fixed on the road ahead, you could tell that he was staring at you.
His silence prompted you to ask a follow-up question.
"Did I catch you by surprise, Agent Alvez?" you asked teasingly.
"Please, call me Luke. And yes, you did. Is it that obvious?" he said with a light blush appearing on his tan skin.
"Did Garcia not mention how much of an amazing profiler I am?" you joked.
“I must have missed it between her explanation of you being a 'magical unicorn who had a gift of talking to people' and 'the most loyal and loving ray of sunshine at the end of the rainbow' she knows," he said with a chuckle.
You couldn't help but smile as you could tell Garcia still loved you despite leaving the BAU a few years ago.
"Is your advice coming from personal experience?" he asked cautiously and with an almost undetectable hesitancy. Almost.
Not dropping your joking banter but wanting to address the elephant in the room (or in the car, in this case), you answered,
"I can't give you profiling credit for that, Luke. Spencer wasn't exactly being subtle in the conference room earlier."
“Eh, I gave it a shot. But yeah, subtle isn’t exactly the word I would use to explain what happened earlier,” Alvez said.
*Flashback to 4 hours ago*
A/N: The next few chapters have a bit of exposition, but I promise the story will become more eventful in later chapters!
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Grey Sky Silhouette
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Spencer Reid x Reader 
Warnings: Post-prison Spencer (some of y’all don't like it), brief mention of murder, some kisses
Category: Angst/ lil bit of fluff at the end
Word Count: 2.7k
Author’s Note: I saw this picture and idk inspiration struck so here we are
italics are flashbacks 
-----
Grey clouds blocked out the sun, the curtains in the bedroom pulled shut. Rolling to his side of the bed, there was an empty spot, a spot where he should be. 
The sun was gone and so was your sunshine, your sweet love, your best friend, someone you hadn’t seen in months simply because he didn’t want to see you. 
You weren't ready to face the fact that you could have lost him over something he didn't do. Guilt hit you and you pushed the feeling away, you were ready to see him but he wasn't ready to see you. 
“Who are you here to see ?” 
“Spencer Reid” 
The officer took your ID and scanned the list for your name. “Sorry, you’re not on here” 
“What ?” you had heard him but you were still confused. “What do you mean I‘m not there ? I'm his partner” 
“Sometimes the inmates take people off their list” 
The officer looked behind you at the forming line. “Please move, figure this out somewhere else. There are people waiting” 
Looking over your shoulder, there were a few people behind you. An older couple, a woman and a small child, and a man at the end of the line. You stepped away from the counter, fishing your phone out of your pocket. 
Waiting for the phone to ring, her voice filled your ear. “Hello ?” she answered, “JJ?” she knew something was off from the way you called out to her. 
“Are you there?” she asked softly. 
“Why aren’t I on the list ?” 
“He doesn't want to see you” 
“I don't care. I deserve to see him.” 
JJ sighed, there were a few moments of silence before she spoke up again. “I’ll talk to him when I go tomorrow. I promise” she reassured you. “Thanks” was all you mumbled before hanging up the phone. 
The floor was cold, all the warmth seemed to leave the apartment with him. It was constantly dark and cold, nothing you did changed that. The frame on the nightstand caught your eyes, a picture of the two of you in the hospital after one of his multiple work injuries. He sat on the hospital bed and you were standing beside him. His head rested on your side with your arm over his shoulder. 
The frame strung a nerve clearly, it’s just that you didn't notice until you felt the tear roll down your face. Flipping the frame downwards so you couldn't see the picture, you went ahead with your routine. 
Get up, sulk, get ready, work, come home to an empty apartment. 
Over and over and over again. 
Your heart hurt every time you thought of Spencer, you couldn't help it. It hurt that he didn’t want to see you even though you wanted to see him. You just had to move on, move on from the pain but not from him. 
You could never move on from him. 
The phone rang, Penelope’s name flashed across the screen. She had been checking up on you a lot more after she heard about the list fiasco, they all had. 
“Hi Penelope” you cleared your throat, you could feel her happiness through the phone. “My angel y/n! how are you today ?” she asked sweetly, you couldn't help but smile. “I’m okay for now, how are you ?” 
“I’m good! I have to go right now but I'll come by for dinner tonight!” Something felt off to you. It wasn't abnormal for Penelope to stop by or even spend the night with you but she seemed cheery, unusually cheery today. 
“Sounds like a plan, is everything okay ?” 
“Oh yeah, I'm fine sugar” it sounded like something clicked on her end or unlocked. “I have to go, I love you!” she said before hanging up. The sound of an automated voice came from her end, announcing something you didn’t catch before she hung up. 
“I love you” the words rung in your head, except it wasn’t Penelope’s voice you were hearing, it was Spencer’s. 
The sand squished under your feet as you walked down the shoreline with Spencer. His face had a scowl on it as he looked down at your feet. “What’s wrong Spence ?” you asked him, noticing the expression on his face. 
“Does that not bother you ?” he questioned, his eyes still on your sand-covered feet.
“The sand ?” you asked, he nodded. 
“Did you know that sand is usually made of silica?” he looked over at you,
“I didn't, do tell me more doctor” you smiled at the man. 
“It's actually silicon dioxide, which is a compound that makes up most of the earth's crust. It also makes up mineral quartz and has many uses like making ceramics, concrete and countertops” his eyes shifted back down at the sand, kicking some with his shoe
“I love your facts Dr. Reid” 
“And I love you” he blurted out. 
Your mouth opened slightly, letting out a small “oh” 
“I didn-” “I love you too Spencer” 
The same feeling of hurt returned. He filled your thoughts 24/7, his voice, his face, his smile, his hands, everything made you think about him. You pushed the feelings away once again and got ready for work. Dragging yourself to the kitchen, his mug sat on the counter, right where he left it three months ago. Of course you had dumped the stale coffee and washed it, but you returned it to that exact spot. You cleaned and returned it to that spot. 
That was the last thing he left laying around before he got arrested. You couldn't bring yourself to move it. 
Sighing, the kitchen was empty, there was nothing to eat. Giving up on your sad apartment, you headed out for the day.
-- 
Penelope stood in front of the green barred door, her heel tapped against the concrete as she waited for them. Only two of them were allowed in and although she worked for the FBI, she didn't have clearance like Luke and JJ did. 
The officer pulled the door open and Spencer walked through, JJ and Luke not far behind him. Penelope's arms opened and he made his way over to her, pulling her into a long awaited hug. 
“I missed you so much” she whispered to him, her arms wrapped around her friend. “I missed you too” he held her for a few moments longer before letting go. 
The four of them headed to the SUV, Penelope filling Spencer in on everything he missed the last three months. “Sergio is good, he’s at my apartment right now.” she told him while showing him pictures. 
Spencer smiled at her, he appreciated everything they had done for him while he was in there, but his mind kept drifting back to the one person he had yet to see. 
“They came to see you Spence” JJ said to him, there was a feeling of tightness in his stomach. 
“I don't- I can’t let them see me like this” Spencer’s head hung low, he couldn't look at JJ. He knew what she was going to say but he couldn't bear to hear it. 
“Why?” she asked, “y/n called and said that their name wasn’t on the list. Why’d you take it off?” 
Spencer looked up at her. They both knew why he had taken your name off, he never wanted you to see him like this. He could barely bring himself to say your name right now. 
He met you after a low point in his life, you were his saving grace. Letting you see him like this was the last thing he ever wanted. As he went to answer JJ, the alarm went off. JJ promised to be back the next day to talk to him. 
Spencer looked over the window as Luke drove down the road. Penelope’s touch brought him back from his thoughts. “They’re okay. I spoke to y/n this morning” 
“Do they know ?” Spencer asked her, his eyes still fixated on the road. Penelope shook her head. “They should be at work right now. Do you want to go home or go back to the BAU?” 
“Home” Spencer whispered. 
The word felt foreign. Home was somewhere he dreamt of while he was in prison, never did he think he'd be able to see his home again, to see you again. The drive was quiet, the song of the rain hitting the vehicle was all he heard. 
Spencer stood outside the apartment building, Penelope stood beside him. She pulled out a bunch of keys from her purse and handed them to him, “do you want me to come up with you ?” Spencer shook his head. “Thank you” he hugged her once more, he walked towards the door looking back at his friends once more before heading inside. 
The walk up was quiet, it was the middle of the day. He bumped into his neighbour who was about to take his dog out on a walk. He asked Spencer where he had been the last few months, Spencer just told him he was away on a work assignment. 
The lock clicked and he pushed the door open. The scent of your perfume and coffee filled his senses. That was a smell he’d never get tired of. He looked around, taking in the space. Although it was his place, he had gotten used to a 6x6 cell and this would take some readjustment. He slipped off his shoes and walked across the floor, his feet padded across the hardwood floor rather than the sound of clicking on concrete he had gotten used too. 
Spencer’s head peered into the kitchen, there was a pot of coffee on the counter. His hand pressed against the side of the pot, it was cold but he didn’t mind. He opened the cupboard to look for his mug but it wasn't there, he looked down to see it on the counter, the sight of the mug brought a smile to his face. 
“Do you have to go ?” you asked him, your knees curled up to your chest as you sat on the chair by the table. 
“Yes I do, you know I do” Spencer smiled at you, taking a sip of his coffee. 
“What am I going to do while you’re gone? maybe I'll adopt a puppy to keep me company” you tease him, he rolled his eyes. 
This was the first time since you had moved in that Spencer was leaving you at home by yourself for a case. “Read a book my darling, but no puppies in here” he set his mug down on the counter before making his way over to you.
He leaned down slightly, his hands cupping your face. Smiling up at him, Spencer leaned down and placed a small kiss against your lips. Your hands reached up his face, holding him close to you as he began to step away. 
“Mhm no” you mumbled against his lips, getting up as he moved back from the chair. The two of you were still holding each other and you were still kissing but you didn’t want to let go. 
“It’s only 3 days” he mumbled, his lips on yours still. 
“Spencer” you whined, he moved back towards the door and you followed him. Your arms rested over his shoulder and his hands were on your waist. “I love you” he kissed you once more, 
“I love you too” 
Returning to the living room with the mug in his hand, he made his way over to the window. He pulled the curtains open in an attempt to let some light in but was met with grey, cloudy skies instead. Spencer never minded the clouds, he wasn't a big fan of the sun nor the cold, but the rain was perfect. This was his favourite type of weather, it was not cold out but it wasn't hot either, there was a warm breeze out. Everything came to a stand still when it was like this. 
-- 
The grocery bags dragged up the stairs as you fumbled through your pocket for the keys. The sound of the record player coming from the apartment, you stopped in front of the door. Taking a moment to assess your options before opening the door. 
Best case, you had turned it on this morning and forgot to take the pin off the vinyl. Worst case, someone broke into the apartment and is waiting to kill you. 
What did you have to lose ?
The lock clicked as you turned the key, you pushed the door open and pulled the bags in with you. All the lights were off, the record player had a vinyl on it and there was a person standing by the window. The person had their back to you, they looked like a silhouette in the dull light coming from the window. 
Stepping further into the apartment, you could see the person a bit better. They wore a white shirt and grey slacks. They had a head full of brown curls, the same brown curls your love has. 
But, it couldn't be him. Could it ?
“Spencer ?” you called out, a few feet away from the person by the window. They turned towards you. 
“Spencer.” you let a breath of relief, Spencer smiled at you. “Miss me ?” he asked, you shook your head. “Always.” you smiled, Spencer gave you a small smile. He picked up the bags you left by the door and walked to the kitchen, you followed him. He began putting away the groceries, “I got it” you took the cereal box from him, “it’s okay. Can I please ?” he looked at you, you handed the box back to him. 
You watched as he put them away. “I’m gonna change, I'll be back” you let him in the kitchen and headed to the bedroom. The frame was faced down, you lifted it and put it back in its place. You changed and headed back, you needed to talk to him. 
“Spence?” you sat on the couch, he made his way over and sat beside you. “Can we talk ?” you asked, he nodded. “We can do whatever you want” he said, you sighed. 
“Why didn’t you let me come see you ? I know it was hard at first but Spencer, seriously ? I love you, I wanted to be- I should have been there for you.” You let out your feelings, you both knew this conversation was coming. It didn't matter if he got out yesterday or 20 years from now, it was going to happen. 
“I couldn’t let you see me like that y/n.”
“Like what?” 
“Rock bottom. You never need to see me like that, you understand ?” Spencer reached out and rested his hands on yours, you held his. 
“Spencer, that’s why I'm here, to help you. Rock bottom or not, I’m always gonna be here because I want to be, you understand ?” putting the emphasis on the last two words. Spencer just nodded. 
Spencer leaned into the side of the couch, you could see the sleepiness on his face. You opened your arms, he leaned forward and made himself comfortable on you. He sat between your legs, his head resting on your chest, his back against you. Spencer let out a hum as you ran your fingers through his hair. 
“I’m sorry” he mumbled. 
You leaned down and pressed a kiss on his forehead. “It's okay baby. You're home and that’s all that matters.”
---- 
Tag List: @spencer-blake-supremacy​ @mac99martin @aaron-hotchner187 @tclaerh @luke-alvez @iconicc​ @lieberhers​ @pumpkin-reads​ @katexrichardson​ @sluttytears​ @thelukealvez​ @scandinavian-punk​ @rosesonmyheart​ @haleymalaffey​ @shotarosleftpinky​ @mrs-dr-reid​ @hqtchner​ @averyhotchner​ @willlemonheadsupremacy​ @potter-reid​ @cloudy-reid​
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Text
are you going to hurt me? ~ hannibal lecter;hannibal
word count: 2259
request?: no
description: after she finds that one of the fbi’s most trustworthy psychiatrists is actually the murderer they’re looking for, she decides to confront him about it
pairing: hannibal lector x female!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of murder, violence, implied smut
masterlist
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From the minute he entered his office, Hannibal knew he wasn’t alone. He carried on to his desk, waiting for her to step out of the shadows, as he was almost certain he knew who was there as well.
“You’re the murderer they’re looking for.”
Hannibal turned and was unsurprised to see the FBI’s newest intern, (Y/N), standing at the railing of the floor overlooking his office. She was still in her work clothes - dress pants, a white blouse tucked into her pants, a pair of black dress shoes. She tried too hard to impress her superiors, especially Jack Crawford, but Hannibal could tell she was an intelligent woman that didn’t need to dress so well to impress them.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he responded, simply.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she said. “The murderer, the one taking their organs, it’s not someone trying to illegally sell organs on the black market. It’s you.”
Hannibal chuckled, amused by her discovery. “Funny that it took an intern to figure that out, not one of the professionals.”
She seemed shocked that he was admitting to it, like she didn’t want him to be a murderer. “You’re...you’re admitting to it?”
“Well, there’s no reason to lie now since you’ve figured it out.”
(Y/N) felt uneasy now. She was starting to see the error of her ways. Why would she just come and confront Hannibal like this by herself? If he hadn’t confessed, she was basically risking her job on the FBI by accusing him of murder, but now that he had confessed, she was locked in a room with a murderer, and no one knew she was there.
Hannibal approached the ladder that led to the floor. (Y/N) took a step away from the railing, thinking he was about to come up after her. He stopped, noticing her hesitation.
“Humor me,” he told her, “tell me how you figured it out.”
“I heard you and Will talking,” she responded. “You were telling him about the black market and people stealing organs for it. Up until then, he hadn’t even considered that to be an option. He just thought that the murders were that of the Chesapeake Ripper, or a copycat. Or both. Then, when we were talking about it today, he started talking about black market organ selling. He was convinced that that’s what the Ripper, or the copycat Ripper, was doing. He was trying to convince us into looking into the black market to find a suspect, and everyone believed him.”
“Everyone but you.”
She nodded. “I’ve been in toxic relationships, I know what manipulation sounds like. You were manipulating him to get him off your scent, and it worked.”
She was perceptive, he was impressed. But now that she knew, a million solutions to his problem were running through Hannibal’s head. She had come alone, he could kill her right now and no one would even know she had been there. Of course, he’d have to wash down his office to rid it of any fingerprints that she may have left. But could he get away with killing another FBI intern? He had gotten lucky with Miriam Lass, maybe he wouldn’t have been so lucky with (Y/N).
He was also shocked to find that he didn’t want to kill her. Hannibal had grown fond of (Y/N) over the short few months he had known her. They had grown such a close bond that he often invited (Y/N) over for dinners, and he found himself excited when he would enter Jack’s office, or follow them to arrest a killer, and (Y/N) would be with them. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to kill (Y/N) like he had everyone else.
She began to descend the ladder, an action that her mind was screaming at her not to do, but her heart was telling her she could trust Hannibal. He wasn’t going to hurt her, not now anyways.
“I have to know,” she started, “are you...are you the Chesapeake Ripper?”
Hannibal nodded. “I am.”
“So...you killed all those people? Even the newest victims, the ones missing their organs?”
“I did.”
“There was never a copycat. It was always you.”
Hannibal nodded to confirm again.
(Y/N)’s entire body was shaking. She was standing inches from a murderer. Of course, being an intern with the FBI, this wasn’t her first time coming face to face with a murderer. But this was different, for one, she actually knew this murderer. It wasn’t some unknown face in the crowd, it was someone she considered a friend. And two, she wasn’t protected this time. No one knew she was there. He could’ve killed her and disposed of her body and no one would even think to question Dr. Hannibal Lecter for the murder.
“What happens now, (Y/N)?” Hannibal asked, approaching her again. She fought the urge to back away from him. She had to seem brave in this moment, not weak and afraid.
“I didn’t come here to turn you in,” she admitted. “I came to get the confirmation, to find out if I was right about my suspicions.”
“And now that you have?”
“I’m impressed,” she admitted. “You’ve been so close with the FBI, with Will, close enough that your cover could’ve been blown at any moment, but you’re so confident that you weren’t going to be caught.”
“Not confident enough, so it would seem.”
They were inches away from each other now, but (Y/N) suddenly didn’t feel scared of him. She wasn’t sure if he was going to hurt her or not, but it was as if she didn’t really care anymore.
“What happens now, Dr. Lecter?” she asked him, looking up into his brown eyes.
Instead of a response, Hannibal acted on impulse and wrapped his hands around her throat. The action took (Y/N) by surprise as he began to lift her off of her feet, squeezing her throat between his large hands. The air escaped from (Y/N)’s lungs quickly and she felt herself becoming lightheaded. In a moment of panic, she began to swing her legs, managing to make connection with Hannibal’s stomach. He doubled over in pain, dropping her to the floor.
(Y/N) landed with a thud and began to breathe heavily. She had mere moments before Hannibal would regain himself, and she knew she had to use that time wisely. While still gasping for air, she got to her feet and raced for the door. Just before reaching for the knob, she felt an arm being wrapped around her throat and her airways closing again. Hannibal began to drag her back into his office as she flailed her arms and legs, trying desperately to get out of his grip.
She managed to start clawing at his arm, digging her nails so deep into his arm that she managed to pierce the skin under his shirt. Hannibal exclaimed in pain, but only loosened his grip on (Y/N) slightly. It was enough for her to wriggle free. She turned to face him and swung a punch, managing to connect with his face.
Before she could make another get away, Hannibal grabbed her and shoved her back until her back collided with his desk. He shoved her so she was leaning back onto his desk and grabbed a nearby knife that he always kept for cases like this. He held the knife to her throat, the cold blade just lightly touching her skin. (Y/N) knew she should’ve been terrified, but she couldn’t bring herself to be properly scared. Instead, she looked into Hannibal’s eyes yet again, waiting to feel the blade pierce her skin.
“Are you going to kill me, Dr. Lecter?” she asked, her voice just barley a whisper.
Their faces were inches from one another and they were both panting from the fight. Hannibal had planned to press that blade to her throat and to kill her right then and there, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Above all else, he couldn’t imagine not seeing her anymore, to live with her death on his conscious, and that was a feeling that he had never had before.
Instead, he dropped the knife onto his desk and kissed (Y/N) in one swift movement. (Y/N) was caught by surprise, but it didn’t take her long to melt into the kiss. Hannibal took hold of her shoulders and pulled her so that she was sitting up on the desk instead. He placed himself between her legs, wrapping his arms around her so he could hold her as close to him as he possibly could.
(Y/N) moved her hands to start unbuttoning his blazer and his shirt, while Hannibal wasted no time in ripping her shirt open, her buttons flying off and scattering over his floor. His hands slipped under her shirt and ran over her bare skin, causing her to shiver at his touch. She pressed herself as close to him as she could as she put a hand on the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.
~~~~~~
Some time later, they were tangled together on the couch in Hannibal’s office. (Y/N) had her head resting on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat beginning to slow back to normal. She was mindlessly tracing circles on his chest with her hand, still trying to grasp what had just happened.
“You’ll have to burn this couch now,” she joked.
“I may,” Hannibal chuckled. “Or I may leave it as it is. A constant reminder of what happened on this couch, even when a patient comes and sits on it.”
(Y/N) moved her head to look at him. “That’s dirty, I like it.”
Hannibal smiled and kissed the top of her head.
“So, what happens now?” she asked him. “With me knowing your secret, and now us having slept together.”
“I trust you knowing my secret, I don’t think you are going to tell anyone, especially not Will or Jack,” he responded. “As for us sleeping together, it does cause a conflict of interest if anyone within the FBI finds out, especially Jack. We may not be allowed to work so closely together anymore as it could be argued that we’re being bias towards the other if they know we’re together.”
Hannibal’s choice of words intrigued (Y/N). She sat up slightly so that she could really look at him. “Together?”
“Maybe I’m being a little too ambitious with my phrasing,” Hannibal said.
“I’m just shocked that you’re so willing to decide we’re together after sleeping together once,” she admitted. “Most guys aren’t like that, not the ones I’ve been with anyways. They use you for sex then they’re out of your life for good.”
Hannibal at up as well to cup (Y/N)’s face with one hand. She looked into his eyes yet again. (Y/N) could get used to having those eyes looking at her with so much affection, it made her feel warm and fuzzy inside.
“I’m not like most guys,” he responded. (Y/N) tried not to chuckle at this, as it was very apparent that Hannibal was not like most people at all. “I don’t believe in having sex with someone without having some sort of affection for them.”
“Neither do I,” (Y/N) agreed. “Does that mean you have feelings for me, Dr. Lecter.”
Hannibal smiled. “I believe you should start calling me by my name if we’re to be intimate like this again.”
(Y/N) smiled so wide her cheeks were hurting. She couldn’t help herself as she leaned forward and began to kiss Hannibal again, lightly pushing him back on the couch so that she could straddle him again. They were so lost in one another that they almost didn’t hear the sound of Hannibal’s phone ringing, but when it continued with persistence, they realized it couldn’t be ignored.
Hannibal shifted (Y/N) so that he could carefully place her on the couch before reaching for his phone, which was in the pocket of his discarded pants on the floor.
“Hello?” There was a brief pause as whoever was on the other end spoke. (Y/N) sat up and began to kiss Hannibal’s exposed shoulders, moving slowly to his neck, in an attempt to tease him. It worked, as Hannibal moved his head to give (Y/N) more access to his neck, and she could see he was holding back a groan. “Yes, I am free. You can come over as soon as you can. See you then.”
(Y/N) pouted as Hannibal stood.
“Will is on his way here for an emergency session,” he explained. “I don’t believe it would be good for him to walk in on the two of us like this.”
(Y/N) sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I should get going.”
Hannibal offered her his blazer. "I can replace the shirt that I ruined.”
She gratefully took it and pulled it on over her exposed body. It didn’t hide everything as much as a shirt would, but she was going straight home so it wasn’t like she had to worry too much.
As Hannibal ushered her out of his office, he grabbed her arm to stop her before she left completely. (Y/N) giggled as he pulled her to him, giving her one last kiss.
“I will see you again soon,” he promised her.
She smiled and responded, “I’ll be waiting.”
i was originally going to call this imagine “are you going to kill me?” but figured tumblr wouldn’t appreciate that
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A lot of you are interested in my Cara theory and I am ready to share it now. My scientist brain just wouldn’t allow me share it until I worked it out so it fits. Like I said I don’t think DIA has field agents and I think they also don’t have the authority to arrest anyone, especially not none-military personal, which is why they closely work together with other agencies like the FBI.
I think that Kate was already working for the DIA in DC and that she was part of a joint-operation with the FBI where Cara was part of as a FBI undercover agent. They therefore have interacted a few times to exchange information, but never more then that. It was just work, at least for Kate. And seeing she wasn’t the mean lead for the DIA for this operation she was able to transfer to Hawaii when the job opening came up, and she could still help out on the case from there by providing new intel if it comes up.
This would in my opinion explain the phone call in 1x07, which is being said to have been Cara. The operation is secret and Kate can therefore not discuss it in the hallways where anyone can hear. And I think she also doesn’t get why Cara calls her and not one of her handlers/contact in DC and maybe asking more personal questions about when she’s coming back to DC, which is why Kate’s being a bit awkward about it and caught of guard and taking it out on Lucy.
That brings me to 1x10 where Cara just shows up. I think it was about the operation and that is why Kate allowed her to come in and have pizza with her if though she finds it weird she came and not call. She can’t just throw out an undercover agent that comes by with information. But I think Cara likes Kate and wants to get together with her and get her to come back with her to DC, so that is why Cara said she was Kate’s girlfriend from DC. She could have said literally anything, but when she heard Lucy, she knew it must be someone special to Kate, cause who else would come this late unannounced to talk about something. And this got Care jealous and figured she was the reason Kate doesn’t want to come back with her to DC so she introduced herself as her girlfriend. Hoping it would cause trouble and get Kate to come back with her.
That of course backfired, but in my head this scenario makes sense. Also it would explain why Kate hasn’t apologized to Lucy yet. Even though she is bad with people and feelings she did apologize to Lucy in 1x07 for taking the phone call out on her and very earnestly. And it would explain the weird explanation of letting things sizzle out. She can’t say that Cara was never her girlfriend and that they were never together as that would blow Cara’s cover and she can’t do that. So in her awkward way, Kate came up with an awkward reason of why she never said anything about Cara and didn’t officially break up. Which is also the reason she hasn’t apologize yet because there is nothing for Kate to apologize for. And though she could still do it, she probably knows that she would not be able to do it convincingly as it would be a lie and she’s afraid Lucy will see through it and knows she’s not sincere about the apology. Which would make Lucy think she’s not sorry about having her as a side-piece and saying anything about her girlfriend in DC. And makes things worse in general while she’s actually not sorry because there is nothing to be sorry about. 
So yeah that’s my theory on the whole “girlfriend” thing. I don’t know if it makes sense to anyone else but it does to me right now. And besides I have way too much time on my hands now that I am in quarantine with Covid which makes me come up with all these theories. And all these crazy storylines that work themselves out in my head :”)
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sweetyyhippyy · 3 years
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Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 20.
Chapter 20: Questions.
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(Not my gif)
Summary: Aftermath of the car accident from the previous chapter. Bridgett worries about the baby. And questions arise.
TW: Mentions of a car accident. Blood. Death and dead body. Mentions of throwing up. Hospital. Arguing.
Word count: 2.6k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Everything slowly begins to settle back into focus as Bridgett’s eyes flutter open. At first she didn’t know where she was or what had happened, she just knew her body was sore. Bridgett shifts in her seat, rolling her head slowly to look around the car. Instantly her head begins pounding, the whole car still feeling like it was spinning but she knew they had stopped. She grunts as she unbuckles her seatbelt, feeling the belt slide across her sore body. She feels something wet under her nose as she pushes the hair out of her face, she brings her hand under her nostrils feeling the thick substance with her fingers and looking to see blood covering her three middle fingers.
“Are you alright?” Luke’s voice comes from the side of her. She sees the window was broken, Luke standing outside.
“My head.” She mutters.
“Okay, let’s get you out.” Luke opens the door, taking Bridgett’s hands and guiding her out of the car.
She grips onto his arms, feeling unsteady on her feet as she stands for the first time. “My head is pounding and I feel dizzy.”
“You probably have a concussion. It looks like you hit your head on the window, you have a nasty cut on the side of your head.”
“Luke?” JJ calls out from the car.
“Stay here.” He says, running over to assist JJ.
Bridgett turns to find the car, wanting to hold herself up against it, and when she turns, she sees Stephen’s body in the seat next to hers, his eyes were closed, and his face was covered in blood. Bridgett watched for any signs of breathing from his chest, but after staring at him for almost a minute, she saw nothing.
“Oh my god.” She whispers, covering her mouth with her hand as she begins to cry.
He has a wife. Two kids. How are we going to tell Monica?
From across the car she sees Penelope and Matt rushing over to JJ and Luke, checking in on JJ who was saying she couldn’t see.
“Stephen?” Penelope's voice calls out.
Bridgett looks up at her friend, tears still in her eyes as she makes her way over to them.
“Stephen?” She repeats, looking at him through the window.
Bridgett takes Penelope’s hand, holding it in hers as they look at their team member. “He’s gone.” Bridgett sobs.
Both of the women remain quiet as they stay put, not wanting to leave him by himself.
“Oh my god, I didn’t even ask, are you okay?” Penelope asks.
Bridgett turns her head a little too quickly, her vision going blurry. She grips onto Penelope’s hand, feeling a wave of nausea and disorientation come over her.
“What’s wrong?” Penelope asks.
“I feel like I’m going to be sick.” Bridgett says, closing her eyes and breathing in deep.
“Okay, the medics just got here. Keep doing what you’re doing.”
Bridgett squats down, breathing in deeply, trying to keep herself from throwing up.  
“Bridge, the baby. Is the baby okay? Do you feel okay?” Penelope asks.
The baby…
Bridgett hadn’t even thought about the baby.
Bridgett looks up and Penelope, worry written on her face. “I don’t know.”
“Okay don’t panic, let me get a medic over here.” Penelope says, running off.
“Where’s Emily? Has anyone seen her?” Rossi calls out, limping around the road.
Bridgett looks around at everyone who had vacated the cars, maybe they had simply overlooked her, but everyone else was accounted for. She tries to stand back up, but she falls into the car, still feeling dizzy.
“Woah, sit back down for a minute. We need to check you out.” The medic says, helping Bridgett back onto the ground.
“Do you know where Emily is? She was in the other car.” Bridgett asks the woman.
“The police are trying to find her. I need you to focus on me and what I’m doing, okay?”
***
A nurse wheels the gurney Bridgett is laying in through the ER, right behind Rossi.
“Can you do me a favor?” Bridgett asks the nurse behind her. “The man over there in the tie, he’s my boyfriend, can you keep him out of the room? I’m pregnant and he doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to know yet.”
“Yes ma’am.” The nurse replies.
Spencer spots Bridgett right away,  rushing over to her. “Are you okay?” He asks, holding her hand.
“I’m fine.”
He begins to follow them into the room, but the nurse stops him at the door.
“I’m sorry, but we have to run some tests on her, we can’t have you in the room just yet.”
“But she’s- I’m her boyfriend. I just want to make sure she’s okay.”
“I understand, but we need to run tests on her. We will let you see her when we’re done.”
“Spence, I’m fine. Go check on the rest of the team.” Bridgett says, running her thumb over his knuckles.
“I’ll come back to check on you.” He says, leaning down to kiss the uninjured part of her head. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” Bridgett replies as he walks out of the room.
“What we’re going to do is get an ultrasound done and check on the baby, okay? Make sure there’s no damage to the uterus or placenta. We’re more than likely going to keep you until tomorrow evening to make sure baby and you are okay.”
Bridgett nods her head, getting comfortable on the bed.
***
Hours had passed by, all Bridgett wanted to do was go to bed, but with her concussion, she couldn’t. Thankfully all the tests and ultrasound had come back with a good outcome, the baby was okay and everything was normal. She got blips of information from Penelope about what was going with finding Emily, and that Spencer was having a rough time mentally.
“Just checking in on you, sweetheart.” Her nurse walks in, checking the machines behind her.
“I’m just tired.” Bridgett responds.
“I know, we’ll get you up and walking around here in a bit. Your friends have been asking about you, are they okay to come see you?”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, I just wanted to make sure the baby was okay before anyone came in.”
“Can I ask a personal question, why are you keeping it a secret?”
“Well, I’m an FBI agent, I can’t work in the field if I’m pregnant and I’m not 100% ready to give that up yet, but after tonight I think I am.”
“And you’re keeping it from your boyfriend? He’s a cutie by the way.”
Bridgett laughs, “Thank you. And I just want to find the right time to tell him that’s all. He was… away, for a while, and he came back tonight so I haven’t told him.”
“Well, I don’t know you two, but i can tell you two love each other very much.”
“We do. We’ve been in love for over 10 years.”
“Young love. Reminds me and my late husband.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay, honey. It’s been about 6 years now. He was overseas serving our country, and he passed away a hero. We were together since we were 18, we had 26 wonderful years, 6 beautiful kids. He used to look at me just like your boyfriend looks at you. If he’s anything like my Michael was, he’s going to be thrilled when you tell him you’re pregnant.”
“I think so too. He doesn’t have to wait much longer.”
There’s a knock at the open door, JJ standing in the doorway.
“Hey, are you allowed visitors?”
“Yeah, come in.” Bridgett says.
“I’ll come back in 30 to check on you.” The nurse says, walking out of the room.
JJ walks in, sitting at the end of Bridgett’s bed. “How are you?”
“My head is throbbing, my body hurts, and I feel like I’m going to be picking glass out of my hair for the next 6 months. How are you?”
“I’m okay. Just going crazy not knowing what’s going on. I’m worried about Emily. Monica’s here. She uh…” JJ clears her throat. “She said her goodbyes to Stephen.”
Bridgett groans softly, shaking her head. “How bad did she take it?”
“Like you’d expect. Monica’s strong but having to say goodbye to your husband so unexpectedly… I can’t imagine.”
“God me either.”
“Guess you and Spence didn’t have the homecoming you wanted.”
“No, but I’m just glad he’s home. Thank you for being there for him when I couldn’t be. And being there for me too.”
JJ smiles and holds Bridgett’s hand. “Of course. You guys are my family and that’s what family does.”JJ’s phone rings from her hand, she puts it on speaker. “Hey Luke.”
“Hey. How are you guys holding up?”
“Okay. Any word on Emily?” Bridgett asks.
“Yeah, we got her. She’s okay, a little banged up but we’re on our way to the hospital to get her all patched up.”
Both women breathe out a sigh of relief at the update.
“What about Scratch?” Bridgett asks.
“He’s dead. We won’t have to worry about him anymore.” Luke responds.
For the second time that night, relief envelops Bridgett’s body and mind. It was truly one last thing that she had to worry about ever again. 
***
A few days had passed since the night from hell happened. Spencer didn’t want to go back to his apartment, so he had been staying with Bridgett at her place. He had been taking care of her since she was still sore and tending to the cuts on the side of her head. Neither of them had talked much about the events leading up to Spencer’s arrest, but it wasn’t the time. They had just gotten back from Stephen’s funeral, which was emotionally draining to say the least.
Bridgett dresses herself after drying her body off, stepping out of a much needed shower, she grabs a pair of athletic shorts and throws a plain blue big shirt over her body, letting her hair air dry. She walks out of the bathroom and into her bedroom, seeing Spencer fast asleep on the bed. She quietly picks up the clothes off the floor she had thrown about when they got home, throwing them in the hamper in the corner of the room.
“Are you going to come lay down with me?” Spencer mutters, his eyes still closed.
Bridgett smiles, walking back and climbing into bed, snuggling up behind Spencer, wrapping her arm around his waist.
He gladly let her hold him for a change, enjoying the feeling of her touch.
“Can I ask you a question?” Bridgett peeps from behind him.
Spencer turns around, opening his eyes to look straight at hers. Bridgett smiles at him sweetly, touching his cheek lightly with her fingers.
“Before you ask your question, I love you.” He whispers.
“I love you too, baby boy.” She responds, kissing the tip of his nose. “So, my question, and I promise I’m not mad about it, I’m just curious, why did you lie about Mexico?”
The question takes him off guard, even if he wanted to lie, he couldn’t. Especially looking into the eyes he was so in love with.
“I shouldn’t have, I know.”
“By why did you?”
Spencer sighs, making a flat expression.  “I… I just wanted to help my mom. The medicine I was giving her isn't cleared here but all the research I did I wanted to give it a try.” He clears his throat, trying to prevent himself from falling apart.
“You could have told me what you were doing Spence. I’m your girlfriend and that’s what I’m here for. For you to confide in.”
“For you to talk me out of it?”
“I wouldn’t ha-.”
“You’re telling me you would have been okay with me going to Mexico every few weeks to get illegal medicine for my mom? Putting my life at risk, my job, all of that?” Spencer begins to raise his voice at her.
“Don’t start yelling at me.” Bridgett spits, sitting up in bed and scooting away from him.
Spencer takes a deep breath, closing his eyes. “I’m sorry. This just isn’t the conversation I wanted to have right now.”
“Well when do you want to schedule a time to have this conversation, Spencer? I wasn’t mad, but now, I am.”
“Mad at what? The fact that I lied to you and you didn’t realize?”
Bridgett shoots him a dirty look, getting off her bed quickly. Not bothering to respond to him.
“And now you’re walking away?”
“Yes I’m walking away!” Bridgett yells, whipping her head around. “I’m sorry that I fucking care about you and was scared shitless when I got that call from that drunk, that you were in jail. I’m sorry that I was fucking concerned for your fucking well-being. And I’m fucking sorry that I want to know why you felt the need to fucking lie to me and the rest of the team.” She yelled. “This was the worst 3 months of my life. Worrying about if I was ever going to see you again outside of prison. I was terrified when I found out you stabbed yourself, I thought you were losing your goddamn mind! And it wasn’t like I could go see you, because you refused to see me!”
“Because Luke said you were always a mess after coming to see me. Why would I continue to put you through that?” Spencer yells back.
“Because even though I was a mess after seeing you, what pulled me through was the thought of seeing your face again. You kept me sane! Pulled me out of the slump I was in. You know how heartbroken I was when I got sent away and told I wasn’t authorized to see you? Only to find out you were the one who took me off this list. What if we didn’t get lucky, and you stayed in prison until you went to trial? The thought of not being able to see you all those months, killed me.” Her voice breaks at the end, losing her composure. Wiping her eyes with the collar of her shirt. “Fuck I’m so sick of crying.” She mutters loud enough for Spencer to hear.
Spencer gets off the bed, walking up to her and pulling her against him. He rubbed the back of her head as she cried into his chest. He felt like an ass for yelling at her and getting angry at her for asking a question. “I’m sorry. For everything. Lying, keeping you away, yelling at you. All of it. I’m sorry.” His own voice breaking.
Bridgett looks up at Spencer, grabbing his face. “Look at me, do not lie to me ever again. I don’t care if it’s illegal, if you think I’m going to talk you out of it. Do not do this to me again. Promise me.”  
Spencer nods his head softly. “I promise.” Kissing her forehead, holding his lips against her. He snakes his arm underneath the back of her shirt, his cold limb making goosebumps scatter through Bridgett’s body.
“I love you.” Bridgett says against his chest, clinging onto the shoulder of his shirt. She picks her head up and stretches up to kiss him.
Spencer firmly kisses her back, making her press up against him.
They hadn’t had sex since Spencer had been back. Once Bridgett had gotten out of the hospital the other night, both of them slept like the dead, almost a whole 18 hours. Then Spencer was helping his mom move her belongings to a new care facility. All the emotional and physical obstacles they’ve both been dealing with. It was finally time to give him his proper homecoming.  
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