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ssanovak · 11 months

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Would the Same Pressure Pull You Under?

TRIGGER WARNINGS; Depression, self destructive behaviour, self harm, blood, drug abuse mention, child abuse mention, usual BAU heavy topic cases.

3596 words.

@skievers‘ request; Reid sees readers scars and starts to pester her about it and gets concerned because he sees it’s fresh. She does it because the trauma of what they see at the BAU on cases (especially ones with kids) and she thinks no one cares about her. Spencer soon tells her she does. Ensue fluff 🥹

You took a deep breath as you sat in your car outside the office. You weren’t having a good day, in fact it was one of the worst days you’d had in a long time, but you couldn’t or wouldn’t call in sick to work. You didn’t want anyone to know you were struggling with your mental health. You wouldn’t ever shame anyone else for needing mental health support, your adopted brother was on antidepressants and had a regular therapist ever since you could remember, so shame wasn’t the reason you didn’t want anyone to know.

You didn’t want anyone to know because you didn’t want to bother them.

They all had their own issues going on, and you saw yourself as the official mom friend of the BAU and if anything even appeared to bother you then you knew they would stop coming to you with their issues and you didn’t want to cut off the only outlet most of them had. It took a lot for them to trust anyone to confide in and you didn’t want to shut that trust down again. But it was a lot of pressure on you to keep yourself from being pulled under with the weight of it all. Another tear slipped down your face and you wiped it away furiously. You pulled the sun visor down in front of you and slid open the mirror compartment. You fiddled with your hair, trying to get the shoulder length curls to sit properly and then looked yourself straight in the eye and took another deep breath. Your eyes weren’t bloodshot or red, you just needed to hold it together long enough to walk into work and you knew it would be easier to push your issues back under the rock you felt in your heart when you saw your friends.

You closed the mirror slider once more and pushed the visor back up. Another deep breath later and you took your keys out of the ignition slot, pulled on the door handle and then pushed the door open next to you. You reached over and grabbed your bag from the passenger seat and got out, adjusting your clothes slightly as you checked that your sleeves were pulled down completely. It was a bit warmer out than you’d have liked it to be, and you ran like a broken boiler year round so you knew you didn’t need the cardigan, but you didn’t have a long sleeved shirt and had to keep your arms covered for the foreseeable future. Once the cuts were healed it might be a different story, but for now the wounds on your skin were far too fresh for comfort, and you knew it wouldn’t take a profiler to put two and two together once anyone saw the marks, unfortunately your colleagues were all profilers, so it would take even less time for them to connect the dots.

You swung your backpack around your shoulders and winced as the strap ran over your wrist but quickly forced your face into a neutral posture before locking your car, putting your keys into your pocket and making your way into the building. You walked over to the elevator and pressed the button for your floor and waited as the numbers across the top of the doors indicated the elevator was at the top of the building.

“Doctor Strange, nice choice! Did you know that Doctor Strange was introduced as a Marvel Comics Superhero in…”

“July 1963, as a backup strip in Strange Tales no. 110” You turned beaming to Spencer Reid as he looked at you with awe.

“You read comics too?”

“Of course! I’ll read anything I can get a hold of, especially if it happens to be the source material for one of my favourite Marvel Cinematic Universe characters, who is played by one of my favourite actors!” You found yourself relaxing talking about one of your biggest combination of interests, books, films and actors. You stepped into the elevator and Spencer joined you, smiling as he listened to you. Spencer liked telling people things, statistics and facts mainly, it was one of the times he felt most comfortable, and with anyone else he might be thrown off by the fact that you seemed to know more than him, but he stood listening intently hanging onto your every word.

When the two of you walked through the glass doors that lead to your office you went to go straight to your desk until you were stopped by Emily, “Hey you two, stop flirting and come join us in the conference room!”

“Uh we weren’t… I don’t… We have a case?” You stammered and felt yourself blush crimson.

“I’m teasing you Y/N, no need to be embarrassed!” You looked up and Emily put her hand on your arm, intended to be a kind gesture but it caused the fresh cuts on your skin to burn under the pressure.

You forced yourself to smile through slightly gritted teeth, “I knew that”.

“Sure you did, you coming?”

“I’ll be there in a second, want to dump my bag first” You nodded towards your colleague and watched as she walked back towards the stairs.

You turned to put your bag down in your chair only to find the space occupied.

“What was that about?”

“What?”

“When Emily touched your arm, you flinched. I don’t think she noticed but I did, now you want to tell me what’s going on?” Spencer had one of your pencils in his hands and you watched mesmerised for a moment as he twirled it between his fingers effortlessly.

“Uh, not really, come on Spence, get out of my chair, we’re gonna be the last two in there at this rate” You mumbled as you caught glimpse of Hotch on his way out of his office.

“Okay, but will you talk to me afterwards?” He bargained, still sat at your desk.

“Okay, okay, just scram will you!” You laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as fake as it felt.

He moved quickly and dumped his own belongings at his desk, other than the bag that he seemed to never be anywhere without. You put your backpack on your chair and pulled out your water bottle taking it and a pen with you up to the conference room.

JJ got on with explaining the case you were about to be jetting off to, but your head was elsewhere. You absent mindedly doodled on a blank piece of paper that you’d found at the back of the folder she had handed you when you walked into the room.

“Y/N, you listening?” Hotch asked after a couple of minutes.

“Huh…? Yeah, of course, sorry doodling helps me think.” You said, and tried to concentrate on the rest of the briefing, but the concern about your impending conversation with Spencer was eating at your insides and you quickly found yourself zoning out again.

When everyone else got up to leave the room you were still drawing and staring off absently, you only moved when the opening of the door made you jump. You stood up abruptly only for a hand on your shoulder to sit you back down again.

As everyone else left Hotch gave a look at the two of you still sat at the table and nodded to Spencer, trusting that he’d be able to get you to talk about whatever it was that was bothering you.

When the door shut again Spencer turned to look at you and said “Spill, what’s upsetting you?”

“Honestly nothing, I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted, please can we just go and get ready to leave?” you said, looking towards the door.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on! You look after everyone else without ever really telling us how you are, and I don’t know why you do that but I want you to know that people care.” He rested a hand on your shoulder and turned you back to look at him, his deep hazel eyes filled with concern.

“Oh shush Spencer, nobody really cares about me, I’m insignificant. If I wasn’t here nobody would bat an eyelid, you’d just replace me with the next person to be suggested for the job and never look back.” You looked down into your lap, feeling tears threatening to burst the dam that your eyelids created.

“Then I must be nobody.”

“What?” you looked up anger rising, you weren’t one to get angry often but you didn’t like how he was speaking about himself.

“You said nobody cares about you, but I do, so I must be nobody.” He explained, his hands talking as much as his mouth.

“That sounds awful, please don’t say that about yourself” Your face creased into a frown and you looked down into your hands, fiddling with a loose thread off the end of your sleeve.

“Then will you do the same?” he pleaded.

“Huh?” you tilted your head to one side but you didn’t look back up this time.

“You want me to speak better of myself, so will you do the same?” he explained gently.

“If you want me to” you answered flatly.

“No, not because I want you to, for yourself.”

“I’m not sure I can do that Spence”, you said looking back up at his face.

“Then can I?”

You nod, pulling a little at your sleeves as he leant closer to you, in barely more than a whisper he spoke, “Y/N, you’re one of the most amazing people I have ever met, you’re kind courteous even when people don’t deserve the respect, considerate of everyone else’s feelings and always want everyone to know that they’re safe to talk to you about whatever they’re going through,” he paused, looking down at his own hands and smiled softly before continuing, “I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now but I do know for a fact that you don’t have to do it alone. Whether you want to talk to me, Penny, JJ, Emily, Derek or Dave, hell even Hotch would be there for you if you needed him to be. You’re wrong, thinking we’d just be able to replace you if you left. If you left there would be a Y/N shaped piece missing from our team, because you have made us all better people by simply existing, and I hope you know that, truly.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, and then another, and another, until you were sobbing wiping your face with your sleeves and you turned away embarrassed about crying so hard at work.

“Don’t turn away, would you like a hug?” Spencer turned you back towards him and held his arms out for you. You nodded and he pulled you towards him awkwardly as the arms of the chair got in the way, but if he was uncomfortable he didn’t say anything as he held you and let you cry onto his shoulder.

When you felt like you’d cried as much as you would ever cry again you lifted your head. You went to wipe your face with your sleeves when Spencer stopped you and handed you a tissue from the box on the centre of the table.

“Now, would you like to talk about why you, the woman who boils hotter than the sun at the equator, is wearing a cardigan inside in the summer?”

“Not really”

“Y/N, there is no judgement coming from me, please explain to me what’s going on.”

You sighed and went to remove your cardigan, your right arm first and were a lot more tentative when it came to your left. You tried to pull it off only to feel the fabric was stuck to your wounds and you winced. As you pulled it slowly away from your arm and took your hand out of the sleeve you looked away as you put the clothing down on the table.

“Why?”

“Why did I do it? Honestly a few different reasons…”

“No, why didn’t you clean them up, dress the wounds, why aren’t you taking care of yourself?”

“I.. Uh, what?”

“I’ve known for a while that this is one of your vices, we can talk about the reasons why if you want to, but can we at least get them cleaned up first?”

“Wait, so you’re not going to give me the lecture about how ‘this isn’t a good way to deal with your feelings’ and try and talk me through a million different scenarios and possibilities like elastic bands and red pen?” You asked, incredulously.

“Would that help?” He looked up from where he’d been examining the cuts with care.

“Not really, it’s just what people usually do. I think you’re the only person not to freak out.”

“When you get to this point, when it all gets too overbearing and you feel like there’s nothing else you can possibly do to quiet whatever’s going on in your head, or you feel like you deserve it, whether it’s punishment or just to feel something because everything inside of you feels numb does it feel like you have a choice?” his voice was barely audible above the chatter outside and you wondered whether this was something he’s researched or whether this was more personal.

“No”

“Me neither. I mean, different vices but they’re an addiction at the end of the day, right? Only my addiction was something I was injecting into my own veins, and yours is something about the blade, or the blood or the pain, the tangible feeling of having something you can do to avoid or punish whatever is going on in your head.”

You grabbed one of Spencer’s hands and held it in yours, squeezing it quickly before letting go, a stray tear leaving your eyes once more. He reached up with his other hand and wiped your cheek, before wiping his own tear away and clearing his throat.

“Are you okay if I leave to get the first aid kit or should I ask Emily to bring it in? And before you freak out, Emily is the one I went to when I was at my worst, she listens and won’t ever judge or talk about it if you don’t want her to.”

“Ask Emily.” You mumbled in response.

“Okay, I’ll call her quickly.” Spencer got his phone out of his pocket and dialed the number waiting for Emily to pick up before asking her to bring the first aid kid and then briefly explaining that you both were okay.

When she opened the door to the conference room Emily was greeted by a scene she wasn’t sure she knew what to do with, until she saw your arm. She came in and shut the door behind her, kneeling down in front of you opening the first aid kit and resting her hands on her legs.

“You want to hold Spencer’s hand whilst I clean it up, or you want Spencer to clean it up whilst I hold your hand? No I won’t be offended if you pick his hand” She added, with a wink.

You laughed, a true laugh this time, “Uh, Spencer’s hand, if that’s okay with you Spence?”

“Of course” he replied, moving to the right hand side of you and taking your hand in his as Emily held your left wrist up to get a better look at the cuts.

“Okay, this will sting,” she said, getting out a bottle of saline after she put some blue gloves on. She grabbed some gauze and soaked it with saline and slowly wiped over your arm, checking your face for a reaction. When you didn’t flinch she focused on the cut highest up your arm and you grit your teeth as she cleaned it out more thoroughly. You gripped Spencer’s hand tightly and he put his other hand on your back and rubbed soothing circles. Once Emily had finished cleaning your wounds and had wrapped a bandage around your arm she looked up to you and said, “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Sorry?” you asked tilting your head to one side with confusion.

“I bought some colourful plasters, no more of the boring ‘skin tone’ ones that don’t match anyone’s actual skin tone” She explained using her hands to indicate quotation marks around ‘skin tone’, “So what’s your favourite?”

Before you could answer Spencer spoke up from beside you, “It’s purple.”

You looked at him and smiled, you were starting to believe that maybe people did really care about you.

“Purple coming right up!” Emily beamed and stuck the end of the bandage down with a deep purple plaster. “Okay, I’ll leave you two now, if you need anything else let me know, I’ll let the team know that you just need some time but you’ll be ready by 9am, it’s currently 8:45, you think that’ll be enough time?”

You nodded and said “Thank you, so much.”

“No need to thank me silly, I’m here for my friends, whatever they need” Emily smiled and stood up, taking the first aid kit with her and leaving.

Only once she was gone did you realise you were still holding onto Spencer’s hand. You let go quickly and felt your cheeks blush bright red again, “Sorry.”

“For what?” Spencer turned his head to look at you and it was his turn to be confused.

“Never mind” You said, smiling at him.

“You want to talk about anything else?”

“I have a question, but it might be too personal, and I don’t want to upset you”

“Fire away” he said and you turned your chair towards him.

“When you were listing all the reasons that someone might use one of their vices, which one fit you?” you looked down at your lap and picked at one of your fingernails where the nail polish was chipping slightly.

“Multiple reasons, mainly to forget, to get out of my own head, and then when we had difficult cases it became a release of tension. If you want to, you can tell me which of them fit you.” He added after his answer.

“Punishment, and when things got too much.”

“What were you punishing yourself for?” he asked quietly.

“Jesse.”

“La Plata, Colorado?”

“That’s the one” you nod and clasp your hands together, twisting a ring around your middle finger.

“That wasn’t your fault, that wasn’t anyone’s fault but Benjamin Cyrus’ who brainwashed her into believing he truly loved her. Nothing anyone could have said would have stopped her from pressing that button once she got hold of the switch” Spencer explained, quickly.

“I should’ve at least tried to talk her down,” you felt tears prickling your eyes again as you thought of the young girl’s situation.

“In staying behind you would’ve put yourself in imminent danger.”

“If I could have changed her mind, there wouldn’t have been any danger, we could’ve both walked out of there alive.

“Or you could have died.” Spencer’s voice gave away little hint of the despair he felt at the way you seemed to wish to throw your life away so flippantly.

“At least I would’ve tried.”

“I wish there was something I could say to reassure you that we did everything we could in going to that ranch in the first place. From the minute Emily and I spoke to her she was so wrapped up in her perceived love for him that I doubt anything you could’ve said would’ve changed her mind.”

“Really?”

“Y/N, if I’d thought there was a chance to change her mind I wouldn’t have shouted for you and Morgan to run. But I do wish it could have been different.” He said, looking down at his hands.

“You do?” you ask, barely audibly.

“Every time we lose an innocent life it takes it’s toll. We just have to believe that we do everything within our power to help or the ‘what if’s’ would eat us alive.”

“Thank you Spence.”

“For what?” he asked, looking back up at you.

“For being honest with me, for telling me that these things affect you too, for letting me know that I’m not alone with these feelings.”

“Thank you for staying here to listen, you could’ve easily stood up and walked out, I wouldn’t have tried to stop you, to me you staying here and being vulnerable with me was the biggest show of strength and willingness to let others in, and you should be proud of yourself for being open to knowing you’re not alone”.

“You’re one of a kind Spencer Reid, you always know just what to say.”

“Oh not always, but fortunately, when it matters.”

You smiled at him as the both of you stood up. You went to throw your cardigan back on when you realised it wasn’t clean any more.

“You have a spare in your go bag?” Spencer asked, nodding to the clothing in your hands.

You nodded and he signalled for you to wait there and he ran to your desk where you kept your go bag in the bottom drawer. He came back a minute later and handed you the spare cardigan and you thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. Now it was his turn to blush and he ran his hand through his hair and down the back of his neck laughing. The pair of you walked out of the conference room together and Rossi and Prentiss shared a knowing look as you wrapped your arm in Spencer’s as you all headed to the plane.

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ssanovak · 11 months

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Getting Out of There Alive

Trigger warning! This fic has a lot of detailed gore, torture and some mentions of depression and self hatred!

@xweirdo101x‘s request; I was wondering if I could request BAU Team x Male reader, while the team are on a case reader gets kidnapped by the unsub and tortured (if possible could reader get an injury where the skin has been removed from the lower jaw down to the shoulder showing his bottom teeth and muscles?) All other injures are in your ball park, the team have to find reader before the unsub kills them!

And maybe could you write about the emotional trauma reader has with the injury on his face like how it makes them self-conscious, depressed, ugly maybe even comparing themselves to a zombie? I guess a kinda self-hate towards themself?

-8.5k words-

---

You took a step towards the door, your head feeling like it was spinning and you stumbled slightly. You nearly knocked a guy over who turned to you and asked “You okay there buddy?”

“Yeah, sorry, just a little dizzy, I think I need some fresh air”, you laughed.

“Oh, had a few too many, eh?” He laughed too.

“Something like that”, you replied, taking a tentative step towards the door. When you managed this without falling over you took another one, and another until you stood just outside the door in the chilly early spring night air. You decided to try and walk the feeling off, as you were sure it wasn’t alcohol intoxication as you’d only had two drinks. As you walked the feeling in your head only got fuzzier and you decided to stop for a second and sit down on a low-lying dividing wall. You noticed a movement towards your left out of the corner of your eye but when you turned your head to better view the source there wasn’t anyone there. You pulled your coat collar up against your neck, unsure whether your shiver was due to the cold or the growing sense of unease you felt. You pushed yourself up off your perching spot and continued walking, trying to ascertain if you were in fact being followed. Once your suspicions had been all but confirmed and you were sure you weren’t alone you decided to call for help.

You took your phone from your pocket and fumbled around struggling to press the button to turn the screen on so you could unlock the phone with face ID. When you’d succeeded you clicked through to your contacts, opening your recent calls. You realised with annoyance that everything was doubled and blurry and you squinted trying to read the names or numbers. When you were unsuccessful in working out any name, you decided to just click and hope for the best.

Hotch blinked as his phone rang, having been deep in thought about the current cases the BAU was working through and staring into space. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and checked caller ID before he answered, “Y/L/N! Enjoying your day off so much you thought you’d phone to check up on us all?”

“Hotch?” Your voice felt loud and unnatural in your head.

“Did you misdial? Expecting someone else?”

“N-no, no, just c-couldn’t make out the n-n-names on my contacts”

“That drunk, eh?”

“No.”

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“I th-think I-I’m being f-followed.”

“Hold on, I’ll get the team.” Hotch raced out of his office to the balcony and signalled to the team down in the bullpen that they were needed in the conference room. As he opened the door and walked into the room he spoke into his phone again, “I’ll put you on speaker, they’re on their way now.”

As the team hurried up the stairs, confused and on edge, towards the same room Hotch had just entered Rossi noticed something was going on through the blinds in his office and he dropped the file he had been reading and hurried out to join the team.

“Okay Y/L/N, the team’s here, tell us what’s going on.” Hotch spoke, putting the phone in the centre of the table.

“I don’t really know,” you started tentatively and the team exchanged a confused glance, “I-I was in a b-bar, had a couple of dr-drinks, started feeling woozy, not d-drunk woozy, s-s-something else. S-so I w-went outside f-for some fr-fresh air, and I’m f-fairly certain s-someone’s following m-me.”

“Y/L/N where are you?” Prentiss piped up.

“I, uh… Oh s-shit, where the f-fuck am I?” You said, looking around at the seemingly unfamiliar landscape.

“Morgan, get Garcia to track his phone”, Hotch ordered.

Morgan scooped his own phone out of his pocket and called the technical analyst.

“You’ve reached the office of Penelope Garcia, fountain of all knowledge, how can I bestow my gifts on you today?”

“Hey baby girl, we need you to track Y/L/N’s phone please.”

“Just right to it, must be serious, you got it hot stuff.” Garcia responded and got to work.

“Morgan, Prentiss, you two get to an SUV, as soon as we have the location I want you ready to go.” Hotch commanded and the two agents left the room.

“Guys, I re-really d-don’t feel s-so g-good” you slurred, your voice growing weaker as you struggled to force the words out.

“We need to keep him talking,” Reid spoke quietly, biting the inside of his cheek nervously. You hadn’t officially disclosed your relationship with your fellow agent to the rest of your team, knowing it was against the FBI rules around fraternisation but they had a feeling that something was going on between you two and Rossi put his hand on the youngest agent’s shoulder squeezing slightly, hoping to reassure the brilliant doctor that Y/L/N would be okay.

“Kid, keep talking to us okay? We’re tracing your phone now.” Rossi said to Y/N.

You steadied yourself against the nearest wall and took a breath before replying, “m-kay, b-but I’m s-so t-t-tired.”

“Y/L/N, I need you to find somewhere to sit, as visible as possible, and keep yourself awake until we get there okay?” Hotch spoke clearly and slowly, hoping the younger agent wasn’t anywhere too secluded or difficult to find.

“This is a f-fucking n-nightmare, I c-can’t b-believe this is h-h-happening” You mumbled, trying to keep your emotions in check, you found a step and sat down.

“Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” Spencer spoke softly, “Penelope’s tracking your phone, Derek and Emily are on their way, and I need you to take a deep breath for me and describe where you’re sitting, can you do that for me?”

Hearing your boyfriends voice soothed the anxiety gnawing at your stomach, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath in and then opened them again, looking around you, “Uh, a d-d-doorway, on a s-step” you answered the question.

“Brilliant, okay, what can you see across from you?” Spencer knew that your description wouldn’t be enough to find you, but his main focus now was keeping you calm and conscious.

Silence echoed out after his question and Hotch was the next to speak, “Y/L/N?”

Still nothing.

The team kept quiet, listening for a sign that you were still on the line. A sudden thud made them all jump.

“Y/N!” Spencer shouted at the phone.

A shiver ran around the room at the next sound they heard, the cold and cynical voice was clear and calm as he spoke, “Who did you call, hmm? Ooh, Hotch, that would be SSA Aaron Hotchner, am I correct?” Glee evident in his voice as he asked the second question.

“Speaking.” Hotch replied, eyes narrowing.

“Good, that saves me a call, now, unless you wish to find your agent spread around the country in pieces, you’ll play by my rules now, do we have a deal?” The man spoke as if making nothing more than a business call.

“What do you want?” Hotch questioned, brow furrowed, leaning on the table over the phone.

“All in good time Agent Hotchner, all in good time,” and the line went dead.

“Damnit,” Hotch closed his eyes and lowered his head, contemplating his next move. “Reid, call Morgan and tell him what’s just happened, get the phones location from him and then tell them to proceed with caution, Dave and I will be there as soon as possible, I want you and JJ to check the M.O of all our current cases, we need to work out if this guy is potentially someone we’re already looking for or a new unsub entirely, and then I want you to start putting together a rudimentary victimology profile. Morgan and Prentiss will help you with that when they return later. We’ll call from the scene and pool info, let’s go.” The Senior Agent grabbed his phone and gear and then threw the SUV keys to Rossi.

Nobody else spoke as they got to work, high stakes cases were an everyday occurrence for the BAU, but it always hit differently when one of their own was in danger.

~~~

Your eyes snapped open and they stared unblinkingly at the ceiling as your brain searched for answers to currently unanswerable questions. You blinked, slowly, trying to clear the grey film that clouded your vision. As the view in front of you cleared you found yourself more confused than you had been when you had first woken up. You took a deep breath and tilted your head to the right. The room you found yourself in was fairly basic. You looked around at the corked walls, the low ceiling and the concrete floor. You assumed you were in a basement of some kind as there were no windows. You noticed a security camera in the top corner of the room on the same side as the door and made a mental note that you were being watched. You tried to sit up, now that your thoughts were coming through clearer, but found yourself unable to move. You looked down at your body and realised you were chained to the cold metal slab you lay upon. Confusion furrowed your brow and you desperately tried to remember how you’d ended up in this predicament, however the last thing you could remember was throwing on your jacket and leaving to enjoy your rare Friday night off. You tugged at the restraints, trying to work out if they could be broken with some force but realised they were too tight for you to use the full extent of your strength to pull against them. You gave up trying to break the bonds and went back to trying to work out where you were.

You had no idea how long you spent laying in the silence before the door opened and a well built man walked in. The man didn’t speak as he entered the room, and you found this unnerving as you studied him as best you could from the angle you were laid at. You guessed he would be around late 20s early 30s but couldn’t really tell as the lower half of his face was covered with a surgical mask. He pushed his glasses up using an index finger against the bridge. You made note of the way his hand twitched slightly as he lowered it back to his side.

He turned and dragged a trolley into the room from the hallway. Your eyes widened as you saw blades glisten in the dim light coming from the centre of the room. You began to struggle once more against the chains as he walked towards you.

“Don’t touch me”, you spat as he reached towards your face. He laughed and grabbed your face and then with his other hand he grabbed a piece of cloth and forced it into your mouth. It tasted musty and you wretched trying to spit it out but he forced your mouth to stay closed and then twisted your face away from him to tie a knot around the back of your head too tightly for you to force the material from your lips.

“You’re not in a position to dictate or make demands regarding what I can and can’t do to you”, he spoke calmly.

Your body stiffened in fear as you saw him pick up a scalpel and you struggled once more against your restraints as the blade was brought up to your body. He traced your jawline with the sharp tip, running the cold metal down your neck and along your collarbone, you flinched slightly as he made a sudden movement but were relieved when the only thing he cut was your clothing. However your relief was short lived as he pulled your shirt away from your skin and dragged the knife through the skin beneath it. When the blade connected with your flesh you bit down hard in an effort to force any response from your body, all disgust at the dirty rag gone as you were thankful for something to clamp your teeth together on. The twisting of the blade made your stomach turn and you were sure your jaw would break under the pressure you exerted to stop yourself from making any noise, however you didn’t want to give this bastard the satisfaction of eliciting a reaction from you. You managed to keep silent as the blade made easy work of tearing your skin apart. You could feel the anger building in your assailant at your lack of a reaction when the swipes of the blade got more violent and less controlled. He growled in frustration and dropped the now bloody blade back onto the trolley, then turning back to you he uncurled your fingers that you had scrunched into fists at your side and flattened your hand against the table. A second later he lifted a hammer from behind him and brought it down forcefully against your outstretched fingers, the sudden unexpected sensation causing you to yelp in pain against the gag, and he grinned in satisfaction. He brought the hammer down once more from above his head and you felt a silent tear roll down your cheek as you heard a sickening squelch and pain flashed up your arm once more. His methods of eliciting a response from you grew messier and more depraved just as you got used to each one and became able to control your bodies pain response and dissociate from the predictability. Eventually the pain became insufferable and dark clouds rolled into your field of vision as you lost consciousness again.

When you came to moments later the smell of burning hit your nose, an acrid, nauseating smell that made you choke as you tried to gasp for fresh air which was unobtainable. Another laugh filled the room you tried to focus on something, anything, other than the intense searing pain you felt. You tried to escape mentally, tried desperately to bring something pleasant to mind but the pain was so much; unbearable, unfathomable and incessant.

You didn’t know how long this continued for, torture to the point of passing out, waking up and the torture continuing, and trying to mentally escape when your thoughts were coherent enough to understand your predicament.

Pretty soon you gave up on the hope of getting out of there alive.

~~~

Hotch ran his hand over his face and then through his hair, further messing up the usually pristinely gelled style he wore and then raised his arms above his head stretching towards the ceiling as he yawned. JJ leant on one hand staring down at the file in front of her, reading it for the umpteenth time as if she believed she would gain new information this time. Rossi sat with his head in his hands, eyes closed slumped forwards. Morgan and Prentiss conversed in hushed tones, whilst the first took a sip from his cup of black coffee, the latter popped the can open of her energy drink and took a long drink. Reid poured his sixth cup of coffee of the day, which should have alarmed the others as it was only 8am, but they had long since stopped questioning how he continued to function when his blood must be mostly coffee.

None of the team had slept much in the last two weeks as they scrambled to put everything within their power into finding you, concern growing each minute that elapsed without any new information. They would’ve feared you already dead if they hadn’t had a steady stream of haunting mail that contained photos detailing your every injury. These pictures were all pinned in chronological order to the board they had set up during the first hour after your kidnapping. They told a grisly tale and each one was just another reminder that they’d failed you yet again. Spencer was barely talking to anyone any more, his usual anecdotes and statistics long since forgotten as he grew more and more anxious that the next photo would be accompanied by a location of your body. He didn’t know if he could take much more of the investigation before he took his gun and started banging on every single door in the vicinity they had narrowed your captor down to demanding entry to check for you. He knew this wouldn’t actually yield results but he felt like all their collective information had so far come to absolutely nothing and recalled Einstein’s famous quote about insanity being an expectation of different results whilst repeating the same actions over and over again and thought that anything new and unconventional would be worth a try at this point.

Then the phone rang and everyone jumped, hyper vigilance being the standard for their emotional state lately. Morgan answered his mobile and said “Yeah baby girl, I’ll put you on speaker.”

“He messed up!” Garcia blurted out excitedly.

“What are you talking about Garcia?” Hotch said, stifling another yawn.

“The kidnapper messed up! He left us a fingerprint!”

“Please tell me it was in the system!” Hotch said sitting bolt upright suddenly alert.

“Bossman you think I’d have called you if it wasn’t? I’ve got his name address, every school he ever went to, every dentist appointment he ever missed and every time he’s ever sneezed in public up on my screens right now, I’m sending each address over to you! Go get Y/N back!”

“Fantastico!” Rossi exclaimed as the entire team jumped into action.

“I know” Penelope said twirling her pen around her fingers.

“Catch you later baby girl, you’re a star!” Morgan hung up the phone and grabbed his gun from the desk in front of him.

Spencer’s gut felt like it was doing somersaults as he followed behind the rest of the team, he wasn’t sure he could take it if they were too late and no matter what he did he couldn’t get the final image of you weak, bloodied and bruised out of his head. As the teams neared the various locations they had as a possibility for your location he felt like he might vomit the last cup of coffee he’d drunk and wished Garcia had phoned a minute earlier so he wouldn’t have had time to fill his stomach. He tried to focus on the task at hand but his mind kept wandering back to the image of you and every thought willed you to hold on another minute.

~~~

You took a breath weakly, wondering what dying would actually feel like, whether it would be painless and whether there was something you were headed for at the end of this life. The emotional pain had long since given way to numbness but you had enough of your wits about you to tell something wasn’t right, more than the obvious. The skin around some of the wounds you could see had started to change colour, and the pain in your muscles had intensified immensely. You shivered once more as you wondered, not for the first time, why your body hadn’t given up a long time ago. You were unsure of how long you had been in this room, at least the first three days you were sure of, but after that days or weeks could have passed and you had no way of working it out. You sighed coughing slightly and struggled to take a deep enough breath back in. A sudden loud bang came from above you and you heard a shout, your attention snapped up to the ceiling and then to the door, hoping against all hope that you weren’t hallucinating the ruckus you could hear coming from the house above. You felt a wave of relief wash over you as you caught the words ‘FBI don’t move!’. You’d been found, you let out another sigh and gasped trying to catch your breath.

You coughed and heard someone call out “Y/N, where are you? Can you hear me? Please, if you can hear me make a noise!” It took you a minute to connect the voice to a person, confusion clouding your thoughts but once you realised Emily was the one shouting you tried to call out, make a noise, do something but you couldn’t catch a breath to make more than a strangled pathetic sound.

You slumped back against the table, tears coming thick and fast and you wanted to give up and sleep. You knew that you had to do something to alert them to your location and you tried banging your foot against the metal but groaned in pain as you smacked broken bones on the surface.

The footsteps above you stopped and you heard another shout “Y/N? Do that again!”

“Oi, you lot! Shut it!” You heard Rossi tell the other agents to be quiet.

You didn’t want to but you had to force yourself to lift your foot once more and slam it down onto the table making a loud crash, seeing stars as you caused yourself insurmountable pain. You slammed your foot down once more, letting out a strangled sound from your throat, determined to carry on until they found you but the pain was causing you to black out a bit.

You heard a thud as a wall panel was busted down and you heard another shout “Fake wall! In here!”. Spencer’s voice felt like the only thing you needed to hear right now and you willed yourself to stay conscious as footsteps ran down the stairs that were behind the blocked off area. Then the door to what could have been your tomb flew open and Spencer came crashing through and you closed your eyes against the harsh glare of the torch he held.

“Y/N!, oh my gosh, Y/N! Stay with me, open your eyes, sweetheart you’ve got to open your eyes,” Spencer let a tear run down his face as he looked at you laid on the slab in front of him, hands hovering over your body not wanting to touch you for fear he would hurt you further. You opened your eyes slowly and looked up into his face which was just above yours, you felt his fingertips gently stroke your chin and could smell the coffee he’d drunk not long ago on his breath as he looked down into your eyes. You smiled, a burning surging through your face as you did so, you screwed your eyes up in pain and Spencer grabbed your left hand after taking a moment to analyse whether there appeared to be any new injuries on your body since the last photo. You squeezed his hand with what little energy you had left, making sure he was really there in front of you. “It’s going to be okay, I promise you, you’re going to be okay, I need you to keep looking at me okay?” He soothed you, stroking circles into the back of your hand with his thumb.

You looked up at him and were vaguely aware of the chains on your ankles being touched. You tried to respond but found you couldn’t get a deep enough breath to speak so you nodded, realising too late that it was a mistake as stars shot through your vision once more. You hissed in pain and the hands that were near your ankles were removed instantly.

“Y/N, I want you to squeeze my hand, one squeeze for no, two for yes, okay?” You thanked your lucky stars your boyfriend was so intelligent, marvelling at how quickly he’d worked out a solution for communication. You squeezed his hand twice and he nodded, grateful that you were at least lucid enough to help them help you.

“Okay, was it one of us who hurt you a second ago?” he asked, and you squeezed his hand once. “Can Hotch continue trying to get these restraints off you whilst we wait for the paramedics?” you squeezed his hand twice and Spencer turned to his boss, “keep trying, you didn’t hurt him”.

The hands returned to the chains on your ankles and Spencer turned back to you. You could feel the little adrenalin that had helped you make a noise draining from you and you wanted nothing more than to give up and close your eyes. Then a sudden movement of the chains caused you to let out a strangled scream in pain as the metal fell against your broken foot. You saw your boyfriend’s panicked look and vaguely heard him talking but the pain was so overwhelming you couldn’t make out the words. You closed your eyes, ready to let sleep drag you under but you remembered the unspoken promise you made to stay awake and you blinked them open once more and tightened the grip you had on Spencer’s hand.

“The paramedics are nearly here, please hang on for a little longer y/n, do you think you can do that for me?” He said, looking down at you. You squeezed his hand weakly once and then again. He smiled softly at you and another tear rolled down his cheek.

You kept your gaze fixed on him as the paramedics came rushing into the room and busied themselves finding a suitable vein to insert a catheter and give you some painkillers before they could move you. Once the medication took effect you sighed and relaxed your grip on Spencer’s hand, deciding you were now safe enough to let yourself drift out of consciousness and into the inky blackness once more.

~~~

Spencer’s heart felt like it was in his mouth as he travelled alongside you in the ambulance, listening to the sirens and watching the paramedics try and assess the horrific situation in front of them. You were hooked up to just about as many machines as the crew had at their disposal, your breathing was shallow and laboured and every now and then your body would heave with the effort of taking in enough oxygen.

When the ambulance pulled into the nearest Emergency department and everything burst into life around him. The doors were thrown open and the gurney was pulled out of the van into the loading bay with one paramedic pulling and the other pushing from the other end of the trolley.

Spencer followed after them but was stopped by a nurse as you where wheeled into the sterile surgical room with a trauma team in tow.

“Sir you can’t go in there” the nurse said calmly but firmly with her hand on his arm. He tried to pull away when a firmer set of hands were placed on his shoulders and he was steered around to a waiting room off to the side.

Spencer looked round into the face of his colleague, Emily’s eyes wide and face set into as neutral a position as she could manage, “What do I do now?” He asked the other agent.

Emily indicated that he should sit down and then sat next to the seat she’d indicated to and turned to him, “We wait, it’s all we can do.”

Spencer stayed standing as he looked back to the doorway they’d come through and muttered “If he is dead, I need to see his body, make damned sure.”

“Make sure of what?” Emily questioned, but she wasn’t sure she really wanted the answer.

“That he’s actually dead.” Spencer clarified nonchalantly.

“Right.” She was right, she hadn’t needed the answer after all.

“What is it Emily? Are you uncomfortable that I no longer trust anything other than my own senses when it comes to death because of you? Because you should be.” Spencer spat, clenching his fingernails into the palms of his hands.

“Spencer…”

“I don’t want to hear it! You’ve made it so that I will never be able to trust what is perceivably happening without double checking!”

“Please don’t do this, not now.”

Spencer continued as if he hadn’t heard or didn’t want to hear Emily’s pleading, “I’ve spent so long trying to build trust back up with all of you, it takes everything I have to actually believe what’s happening in front of my own eyes, but never once have I felt like that with Y/N! I don’t know if I could handle that kind of betrayal, not again, and not from him.” Hot angry tears ran down Spencer’s cheeks and he turned and kicked the nearest chair which fell to the floor, the resulting crash making Emily jump. Spencer’s shoulders shook with the muffled sobs he was containing.

Emily quickly realised that he wasn’t actually wanting to argue, and that in this moment instead of facing the fear and the pain that he felt, anger was a much easier secondary emotion to deal with and she happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. “Spencer, come here.”

He looked up at his colleague with tears still streaming down his face and was surprised when she opened her arms out to her sides and indicated for him to give her a hug. He took a step towards her and she took one to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders pulling him down towards her. He buried his face in her neck, wrapped his arms around her waist and sobbed as she held him. A stray tear wormed it’s way down Emily’s face and she blinked furiously to stop herself from fully crying too.

“He’s going to be okay.”

“You can’t say that, you can’t know that, statistically speaking…” Spencer mumbled against his friends shoulder, sniffling slightly.

“Shut it with your statistics for once will you! Now, he’s going to be okay, I’m telling you he will be. I truly believe that, okay?” Emily pulled herself away from him so that she could look into his face as she spoke.

Spencer nodded dropping one arm to his side and standing upright wiping his face with his other hand. At that moment Hotch and JJ entered the waiting room.

“How’s he doing?” Hotch asked Spencer.

“Don’t know, but it doesn’t look good” Spencer’s lip wobbled as he spoke and when he was done he bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop himself crying again.

“Spence it’ll be okay, he’s in the best place possible right now,” JJ spoke softly and put her hand on his shoulder squeezing slightly and nodded to him.

“We’ll all wait here, Rossi and Morgan are following up with the task force now, unfortunately the unsub wasn’t anywhere to be found so we’re still searching, but there’s not really much more we can do, we don’t have any new leads to go on for the moment, so we’ll regroup later and see if any new information comes to light from where Y/N was being held.” Hotch explained quickly to the group before turning to Spencer once more, “Reid, obviously you can take as much time as you need, you’re not expected to return to work until… Until we know what the situation is with Y/N at least.” Hotch internally grimaced at his tactlessness, he wished he could’ve worded it better and offered his youngest subordinate some reassurance at the same time but he thought better of it than to potentially keep digging that hole.

All four sat down in silence whilst they waited for what felt like an eternity for any news of your condition. After a while a nurse in scrubs came into the waiting room and looked around at them.

“Which one of you is Spencer Reid?”

Spencer stood up and the others looked to him.

“You’re listed as Y/N’s emergency contact, can we talk to you privately for a moment?”

Reid followed the nurse out of the room and when he came back he looked only a fraction less pale than he had when he left, “He’s alive,” He breathed and slumped down into a chair.

“Oh thank God!” everyone let out a breath they didn’t know they’d been holding.

“What else did they say?”

“Not much, it’s too early to tell really, some of his wounds were very badly infected, they’ve got him on strong antibiotics and he’ll be in the ICU whilst he recovers. They’ve had to remove some skin on his face and some of the flesh underneath too, the road to recovery is going to be extremely painful and difficult, and he’s not out of the woods yet. They’re going to wake him from the anaesthetic soon.” Reid listed off everything the nurse had told him and the others listened in horror at the grim reality.

“Spencer, it’s completely up to you, do want one of us to stay with you?” Hotch asked gently, concern evident in his voice and demeanour. Spencer shook his head and Hotch shared a look with Emily and JJ of silent agreement that they would all take it in turns to check in with him every now and then. “Okay, well we should get back to the others anyway, give them an update, and you can call if you need anything.” He said, standing up and looking to the doorway to find a nurse waiting to direct Spencer to the private room you would soon be moved to.

When they wheeled your bed into the room Spencer got up and walked towards you, and you turned your head to him groaning as you did so. You pressed the button on the morphine drip you’d been given and hoped it would kick in soon.

“Hi.” Spencer said, smiling at you, you tried to smile back but your movement was severely restricted. You turned the left side of your mouth upwards and reached your hand out towards him.

“Hi yourself,” You croaked out, mouth feeling like sandpaper as you spoke. You coughed and Spencer’s face crumpled in concern. “Water?” You requested and looked towards the nurse who nodded her head and left to grab a jug from the nearest nurses station.

When she returned a minute later Spencer took the jug and poured you a drink, moving to press the button to raise the head of the bed upwards so you wouldn’t choke. He put a straw into the cup and held it up to your face as you took a sip. Your throat felt better instantly, and you sighed a little as you realised that the meds had kicked in too.

“Thank you” You said, looking up from the cup in his hands to see his eyes were glistening and it was your turn to frown. “What is it?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Spencer put the water down and ran a thumb over the back of your hand as he took it, sitting down in the bedside chair as he did so.

“If you say so,” You said, using the remote for the bed to lay yourself back down so you were more comfortable. “Spence, I’ve just used that morphine they gave me and it seems to be working for the most part, but my damn leg feels like it’s on fire, what’s up with that?”

Spencer’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak but closed it again before he frowned once more. “Which leg?” He asked, his voice wobbling slightly.

“The Right one,” you replied.

“Oh” Spencer’s face went pale as he looked from your face down to the end of the bed.

“What?” You could feel panic rising in your chest as you struggled to work out what was wrong. You used the button on the bed once more to sit up again, sitting further this time until you could see for yourself what the issue was. Your mouth dropped open and tears welled in your eyes as you realised why he hadn’t said anything else. “Oh,” you echoed his earlier sentiment and pressed the button once more to lay down again. You felt sick, but given your empty stomach you knew you weren’t about to vomit. You dropped Spencer’s hand and looked away from him. “What else should I know about?”.

“Uh, I… I don’t know, you have a lot of wounds.” He answered, looking away and then back down at you.

“How bad?”

“You’re going to need skin grafts for one of them.”

“Where?”

“Your face.” He looked down at his hands and picked at a piece of skin on one of his index fingers.

“Okay.”

You lay in silence, not looking back at Spencer ignoring his attempts at talking to you. Eventually he gave up and sat back in his chair and you shut your eyes and after a while of laying listening to the noises of the hospital you fell asleep again.

When you woke later you turned to the side to see that he had fallen asleep next to you, hand resting on his palm as he leant on the arm of the chair. You watched him sleep peacefully and the slow steady rhythm of his breathing lulled you back to sleep.

~~~

The next few days went by painfully slowly, Spencer never left the hospital, rarely leaving your side other than when he needed to use the bathroom or get something to eat. He ignored everyone’s pleas to go home and shower and get some proper sleep in an actual bed, because he didn’t want to leave you alone, especially not in this headspace. Even though you refused to talk about it he knew that the mental ramifications of your ordeal and the injuries you’d sustained and the scars you would now carry for the rest of your life were taking it’s toll on you. Multiple times he had to wake you as you pleaded to the images in your head not to hurt you anymore. You told him on multiple occasions that you would be perfectly fine in the capable hands of the doctors and nurses but still he insisted on staying with you.

After days of the same it took Garcia coming to the hospital and practically begging Spencer to get him to leave, she promised she would call him immediately if you needed him and he made her swear that someone would constantly be there whilst he went home to catch up with himself for a night.

When he returned the next morning he found Rossi sat in the chair beside your bed, who nodded towards the younger agent and stood up interlocking his hands behind his head and stretching as he yawned.

“Thank you for staying with him.” Spencer offered his appreciation as he took the seat that had just been vacated.

“No need to thank me kid, he’s one of us, I’m here for myself as much as for you.” Rossi turned and left the room, heading to grab himself a coffee before he went to work.

The corner of Spencer’s mouth turned upwards as he realised just how much of an impact you’d had on everyone in the BAU. As he sat thinking about everything you’d been through in your time at the FBI you woke up, blinking slowly as you scrunched up your eyes against the daylight streaming in through the window. You’d never been much of a morning person and you grumbled as you looked over at the clock he’d brought for you on the bedside table.

“Please tell me you only just got here.” You grumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes.

“I swear!” He held a hand over his heart and the other up in the air, “I promise you that I only just got here, I got a full night’s sleep and I even showered this morning!”

“Good” You mumbled, scratching the skin above the dressing on your face.

“That probably needs changing” He pointed to it and you nodded.

“I want to see” you said, more for your own conviction than an explanation for him but he turned back to look at you once more from where he’d swivelled to press the call button on the wall.

“I don’t…”

“Don’t tell me that you don’t think it’s a good idea, or that you don’t want me to get upset. It’s my face, I’m going to see it sooner or later, so why not sooner?” you said, folding your arms across your chest. You’re already seen your leg, or rather, what was left of your leg after it had been amputated just below the shin, and now you were sure you were ready. Or you thought you were sure. Now that it might actually happen you were starting to feel nervous and you’d hoped Spencer wouldn’t put up too much of a fight as you thought any resolve might’ve left you.

“Okay, okay, if you insist,” he said and you sighed a little.

As the nurse came into the room he explained the situation and you sat quietly and nodded when the nurse was making sure you were ready to see the damage and understood that there were a whole number of possible surgeries waiting for you in the future and that you didn’t need to worry about it at all.

As she peeled the dressing away Spencer winced slightly, and you swallowed hard against the lump in your throat. You picked up the mirror that the nurse had brought in with her and slowly angled it so that you could see yourself. You gasped when you saw the full extent of the injury. Starting from just below your top jaw was a gaping wound in your skin. You swallowed and watched the muscles move as you did so and closed your eyes for a second to stop yourself from retching. When you opened them again you took in the detail of the teeth that were visible through what should’ve been your cheek, and let your eyes wander down to your jaw, equal parts horrified and unable to look away. You put the mirror down and nodded to the nurse when she asked if she should redress the wound now. You didn’t speak until she was finished and had left the room.

“I look like a walker.”

“A what?” Spencer queried, cocking his head to one side.

“Uh, sorry, I forgot you don’t do television, Walker is the term they give to the zombies in The Walking Dead.”

“Oh.” Spencer said looking down into his lap.

“Oh? I tell you I look like a zombie and the only thing you can say is ‘oh’?” you laughed, feigning offence.

“I’m… Um, of course you don’t! I’m sorry! I didn’t really know how to respond to that, you caught me off guard, please don’t take my inability to communicate in that moment as anything more than exactly what it is!” Spencer fiddled with his watch, twisting it around to the underside of his wrist and then back up again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound so accusatory, I was trying to make a joke,” you put your hand on Spencer’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly.

He sighed and reached out to cup your other cheek in his hand, “You’re a windup sometimes Y/L/N”

“Thank you” you smirked with the good half of your face.

He moved his hand and shoved your shoulder laughing himself. His laugh made the feeling of disgust dissipate from your stomach and you spent the rest of the day trying to keep him laughing. At the end of the day you managed to convince him to go home again, promising him that he didn’t need to ask anyone to come and sit with you, and that you’d call him if you needed to speak to anyone.

When he left the feeling of disgust returned, only this time with it came an anger at your kidnapper that you hadn’t really felt until this moment. You lay down on the bed on your left hand side, tears rolling down the good side of your face. You were glad to have this moment of weakness by yourself, and vowed to keep Spencer away from this feeling you were keeping inside, he’d been through so much, you didn’t need to add to his emotional baggage with something neither of you could change.

~~~

A few months later and you were laying alone in your apartment on your couch, staring at the television but not really watching anything. You heard a knocking on your door but you ignored it, hoping whomever it was would think you were out and leave you alone.

Y/N! I know you’re home! Open the door please!” Spencer was knelt down on your front doorstep, shouting through the letterbox.

You continued to ignore him, taking another swig from the bottle you held.

“If you don’t open it, we will!” Another shout came from the front door and you recognised Morgan’s voice and you decided to unlock it rather than face the bill your landlord would dump on you if he kicked it in. You put your drink down and pushed yourself up onto your foot, grabbing the crutches you’d yet to get fully used to using.

“Please leave me alone” You said when you opened it whilst it was still on the chain. You pushed it shut again but stayed stood by the door knowing full well they wouldn’t just leave that easily.

“Please, Y/N, we just want to know you’re okay! It’s been a week since anyone’s heard from you, just let us in and we’ll be out of your hair in as little time as it took you to answer the door,” Spencer pleaded through the slot.

You undid the chain and opened the door once more, swinging it open as you stumbled back into your living room, taking another drink after you flopped back down onto the couch letting the crutches slide to the floor. Spencer and Derek walked into the dark hallway, flicking on the light as they did so and they were horrified by the state of your house. The floor was strewn with takeout rubbish, dirty laundry and empty bottles.

“Welcome to my shithole” You said, unenthusiastically and you forced a laugh which was as emotionless as you wished you were.

“Y/N, please, we get it, we really do, but you can’t just shut yourself away like this! Surely having all this stuff on the floor makes getting around difficult too, can we help you clear it up?” Morgan spoke as he pushed some rubbish to one side and sat on the other couch across the room.

“Do whatever you like, I really don’t care anymore” You said, downing the rest of your drink and shutting your eyes against the tears that threatened to spill.

“Budge up” You opened your eyes again to see Spencer stood next to the couch. You pushed yourself to one side and he sat next to you, looking at you with a furrowed brow.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m not some charity case you need to pity you know”

“I’m not looking at you like anything!”

“It’s the pity I can’t stand”

“I’m sorry for caring!”

“Spencer please, for your own sake, don’t.”

“Unfortunately for you that’s not a decision I can make.”

“Lucky me” you roll your eyes and reach down to the side of the couch where you had a stash of drinks, you went to grab the bottle opener when you realised it wasn’t on the coffee table anymore.

You looked around to see Derek holding it and made a motion for him to throw it to you and twisted your lip up in annoyance when he shook his head. “Nuh uh, it’s 10am on a Saturday, you’re not doing this.”

You leant back to put the bottle back down but lost your grip and it fell from your hand, shattering on the floor and Spencer jumped next to you.

“Bollocks!” You exclaimed. You smacked your forehead with your hand and threw yourself back against the couch.

“Well that’s one reaction to being told you’re cut off” Derek said, raising an eyebrow.

“Didn’t do it on purpose Morgan”

“I was trying to make you laugh dumbass” he smirked.

“Ha ha ha” you looked at him and shook your head.

“Ouch” He replied.

“Okay, look, I need to clean that up now, are you two done with your welfare check?” You asked and indicated to the floor.

“Please let me help you with that at least!” Spencer said exasperated.

“M’kay pretty boy, whatever will get you gone faster” You said, folding your arms.

The two got to work cleaning up the bottle and the sticky mess, you weren’t entirely sure what to do with yourself so you swung your other leg up onto the couch and closed your eyes. Before you knew it you were being gently shaken awake by Spencer and you stretched and yawned, headache beginning to form as the alcohol had begun to work it’s way out of your system. You groaned and sat up looking round at the room. To your surprise the two had used your impromptu nap to clear up as much of the room as they could and you looked at the clock on your mantlepiece and saw it was now 3pm. You looked around and realised Derek must’ve left as you noted the lack of car outside the window.

“Sorry, must’ve needed that sleep” you mumbled as Spencer moved you slightly and sat down, putting your legs back down onto his lap.

“Please don’t apologise. I wish you’d come to me when you were struggling rather than shutting me out. It was actually nice to be able to do something that would help you”

“Really?”

“Of course! Why would you think I wouldn’t enjoy helping?”

“I guess after the way I broke it off with you, I didn’t think you’d ever want to do anything for me again”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Dumping someone by text is usually enough to be sure anybody would stop talking to you entirely, let alone want to help you”

“Well I guess I’m not just anybody, I can’t just switch off the part of me that loves you, even if you did break my heart.”

“You still love me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“I figured you’d stopped loving me the minute you saw how ugly I was.” You mumbled the last sentence, looking down into your lap with tears in your eyes again.

“What?”

“When you first saw my face, in the hospital.”

“Y/N, you’re still the most handsome man on this entire planet, scars or no scars you’re gorgeous, plus I don’t just love you for the way you look, so even if you were somehow turned into a worm I’d still love you for your personality” He put his hand under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him, tears glistening his face too.

“Did you just make an internet culture reference?”

“JJ explained that one to me, I’d still rather have a book over a blog any day” He grinned and you put your hand over his, taking it away from your face and holding it. You moved around on the couch so you were sat flush with him and you leant into him, basking in the sense of belonging you’d missed so much.

“I’m sorry” You said again, tears rolling down your cheeks over the scarred and non-scarred indiscriminately.

“No apologies, remember?”

You nodded and leant onto his shoulder.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Spencer, I love you too.”

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