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sweatervest-obsessed · 6 months

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Salvia Splendens Means Forever Mine - Part Four

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 2.5k

TW: kissing, pg-13 thoughts, pg-18 thoughts, talk of sex, mentions of death, trauma of death, lots of flowers, mentions of violence, basically anything mentioned in the last chapter is a tw here

A/N: God thank you all for being so fucking patient with me. I really appreciate you all!! I hope you enjoy!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Spencer’s lips were on your shoulder as he tightened his grip on you. His arm was wrapped securely around your waist, your back against his chest. You grumbled something unintelligible, but Spencer just hummed in response, kissing your bare shoulder again.

“What are we going to do with you Doctor Spencer Reid.”

He laughed quietly, his voice still gravely since he also just woke up.

Mornings with Spencer always went like this. The two of you had been living together for over a month now, and you couldn’t be happier. Waking up next to the love of your life had major benefits.��

The first was morning sex. Waking up to Spencer kissing your neck, and your chest, and lips. Lazily breathing together, moving with one another. Feeling as his chest rose and fell while you riled him up and teased him endlessly. It was incredible. People seemed to notice your mood change when you showed up to work too, which definitely had its own set of perks. It was basically the best way to wake up, in your opinion.

Then, there was the fact that you got to wake up and enjoy how gorgeous he was, how beautiful his eyes were. Watching as he finally was able to relax, stress free putty in your hands, melting as you played with his hair and whispered about nothing and everything to him.

But the best part about waking up next to Spence, was that you got to start your days with him, knowing you’d get to come back home after work, sleep beside him, and wake up next to him all over again. It felt surreal at times.

“What’s going on in that head of yours? I can hear the gears turning.” Spence muttered, kissing your shoulder this time.

Your body rolled in his arms, causing you to face him, kissing his cheek softly. “How much I love you.”

You felt Spencer freeze for a moment, and you looked up to find his eyes on you.

“You…”

“You don’t have to say it back Spence.” You slid your hand up, and cupped his jaw. “It’s a really big commitment. But you not saying it immediately back doesn’t mean you don’t care about me or don’t love me back. You might just not be ready to say it out lou–”

“Look who’s the one rambling now?” He smirked slightly, making fun of your conversation from the previous night, in which you cut him off with a kiss when he was too busy telling you about something that wasn’t relevant to the task at hand. Spencer followed your model and cut you off with a kiss that you melted into. “I love you too.”

______________________________________________________________

Spencer had been sitting next to your hospital bed for a whole day now. He was exhausted, hungry, dehydrated, covered in blood, and looked like shit–but none of that mattered since you had been in a medically-induced coma since the ambulance brought you to the hospital.

Watching as you coded not one, but twice during the ride to the hospital just continued to confirm Spencer’s greatest fear. Hearing your heartbeat flatline is something he never ever wants to experience again. Ever.

The room was filled with vases of flowers. It made the air sickly sweet, the bitter opposite of how he was feeling, looking down at your sleeping body. But he knows you would have found some of them funny.

There was a vase of red and white camellias, meaning you were the “flame” of someone’s heart, but also adorable. Someone else had sent you declarations of love (red tulips) with hints of declaring war (tansies) throughout. But the one from Spencer was the best.

He had bought you a bouquet of red poppies: meaning consolation. Spencer had gotten you a consolation prize for being on the team and getting stabbed in the stomach. He was hoping your sense of humor would still be intact when you woke up. If not, then they were also from Derek.

Just then, the machine made a sound Spencer hadn’t heard before. Then it made it again. A long beep, loud enough to wake the dead, but somehow not you. A nurse came running in and ushered him out of the room, much to his opposition.

He fought with two different nurses, trying to stay in the room with you. Apparently having three Phds means nothing when they aren’t the right ones to keep him in that room with you. And regardless of his relationship status, he was now stuck back in the waiting room with the other peasants.

“So….”

Spencer looked up at Derek.

“So?”

“How long.”

“Not in the mood right now Derek.”

“No, no. I wanna know–how long have you two been sneakin’ around. I mean, for gods sake Reid, you managed to keep a relationship hidden from some of the best profilers in the country..”

“Well.” He grumbled, looking back at the hallway you were down. “Over a year now–almost two.”

“I’m sorry–two? Two years?.”

Spencer nodded, looking back at Derek.

“Damn.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Now I–”

Whatever Derek was going to say was paused when a nurse walked in, a slight splatter of blood over her scrubs. Both of them turned their attention to her, fearing the worst by the solemn look on her face.

“She’s awake.”

“Holy shit.” Derek mumbled while Spencer let out a breath he had been holding for what felt like millenia.

“But.” The nurse continued. “She can only see one person at a time. And she’s asking for Agent Hotchner.”

Neither of them had realized that the solemn looking section chief was sitting quietly in the corner. Derek and Spencer shared a look with another, while Hotch got up from his chair and followed the nurse down the hallway and into your room.

“Aaron.” You smiled at him, though it was an exhausted smile. “Thought you’d come in with blood on your shirt from having to fight through Spencer and Derek.”

Hotch chuckled and closed the door behind him, sitting down next to you and placing a hand on yours, squeezing it. “The nurse shot them both a look and told them ‘not to try anything’. But I do have to ask, why me.”

You closed your eyes. “I want to give you my recount of what happened while I can still see it.”

“Y/n you do–”

“Hotch I want to. I watched as she stabbed that woman over and over. I watched as that asshole buried her body. I want to tell you what I saw. I want to tell you so that there’s no fucking way either of them will ever see the light of day again.”

Hotch didn’t feel like now was the appropriate time to mention that one of the unsubs was dead. He wanted to hear your memory of the events. He pulled out a mini black notebook, and a pen, from inside his suit jacket pocket. “Whenever you’re ready Y/N.”

______________________________________________________________

“Hello everyone, my name is Doctor Y/n Y/l/n, and I am going to be your speaker today. I have been with the BAU for about a month, and they wanted me to come in and speak to you about it—a newbie’s experience.”

That earned you a couple of laughs scattered throughout the crowd. You were asked to come in and speak about what it’s like to join the BAU to anyone interested in becoming profilers. You were not expecting for it to be a full house, but every single seat had someone in it, with overflow huddling around the back of the lecture hall by the walls.

“Now, I’ll try to stay within my time limit since I know standing and listening to someone blab on about themselves is not the ideal situation; however. That’s exactly what you signed up for. So–.”

Spencer stood in the back of the room, watching you speak to all of these students with ease–your peers really. Some of them even older than you, and yet, there you were, confidently smiling and maintaining their interest. It baffled Spencer.

He wished he knew how you were able to captivate so easily, especially since he was completely enamored by you. Derek knew it too—well the whole team really knew, except for you.

The crowds laugh pulled him out of his thoughts as you continued on.

“Right. Now.” You clicked the little clicker and the pictures shifted behind you. “It’s time to get serious. I know I said that already, but I mean it this time.” You smirked a little bit and went onto the next slide.

“The first case I ever worked with the BAU, I was just a temp filling in Elle Greenaway while she was away on some family matter. I was assisting in some case where—”

Spencer’s train of thought got the better of him. All he could do was think about the day you subbed in for Elle. He could remember it like yesterday, even though it was almost forty days ago, not that he was counting. He didn’t remember much of the case though, which was a sore subject that Derek and JJ would tease him about still.

“Does anyone have any questions about the process?” Your voice brought him back to the lecture hall once again.

“How old are you?” Some random guy’s voice rang out amongst the crowd.

“Well.” You laughed. “I’m twenty-two.”

Spencer heard some of the people around murmur, and he chose to ignore whatever they were saying about you, since he wasn’t one to win most fights.

“Why the BAU?”

You paused and bit your cheek, thinking really hard about that question.

“Honestly? I was obsessed with the serial killer documentaries when I was like fifteen/sixteen, and then one of my family members was murdered when I was fourteen. It’s not something I talk about a lot, but I remember my biggest question was why. It’s why I was so obsessed with those documentaries, because I wanted to know why someone felt that they could just take someone away from a family, from the world, and I realized that the only way I could find out the answer was if I did it myself.”

There was a murmuring throughout the crowd once again.

“I don’t think I’ll find the answer any time soon, if at all. But I love being able to protect people. I love being able to know that what I’m doing every day matters–to everyone sure, but mostly to me.”

Spencer, and the rest of the team, had no idea you were connected to such a tragic event at such a young age. You didn’t show the signs of someone who had gone through something like that. But now that he knew, he wanted to find out everything about it, find a way to bing you peace of mind. God, it sounded so stupid. He barely even knew you.

He was lucky you were extraverted in that since he could barely form a sentence around you. God he couldn’t wait to listen to you talk to him on the car ride back to the BAU.

______________________________________________________________

You ended up talking to Spencer last.

One by one you smiled at your friends, reassured them you were feeling better, and told them you would rest.

But then, Spencer was standing in the doorway, and he was looking at you with such pain, with such distraughtness, that tears started to stream out of your eyes–you didn’t notice. But Spencer did. He quickly closed the door behind him and walked over to the bed. Clasping your hand in his, he used his other hand to wipe away the tears on your cheeks. “Sweetheat, baby, it’s okay. I’ve got you. It’s okay.” He whispered, trying to provide you with some comfort.

“Did…Did you get my necklace back…”

That was not where Spencer thought this conversation was going. “I–”

“Be-Because I can't ... .Spence I’m so sorry. She just snatched it off of my neck while I was unconscious and, and, and she put it on, and fuck–”

Spencer squeezed your hand, causing your rampage to stop, but the tears pushed on. “We have it.” He said quietly. “There’s no way in hell I’m ever letting anyone else take that necklace okay?”

You nodded and used your other hand to wipe at your cheeks, managing to get rid of the tears.

Spencer kissed your hand again. “It’s at home, right on the kitchen counter. I got it professionally cleaned and everything.”

You nodded and sighed. After a moment of silence, you peered around his frame, taking in all of the flowers and balloons and cards that people had left you.

“wow…This is…”

“A lot?”

You nodded, brows furrowing as you bit the inside of your cheek. Spencer watched as your eyes slowly scanned across the flowers in the room, landing on the bouquet from Derek.

“Is someone trying to declare war on me?” Your laugh was a bit garbled as you swallowed down the rest of your tears, trying desperately to change the subject.

“Morgan thought you would think that was funny.” He whispered, his eyes only focused on you. On the way your lips parted when a particular inhale hurt your chest since they had only taken the catheter out an hour ago, or the way your chest rose and fell, the bruises scattered across were blooming into nasty blues, purples, and greens.

“Who got me poppies?”

Spencer met your eyes, a small cheeky smile on his lips.

You slapped his arm with no mirth behind it, a grin spread widely across your face. “I’m sorry. But did you get me a consolation prize for surviving?”

Spencer nodded, watching as you laughed to yourself, wincing when it would hurt a bit too much. “I love them, Spence.”

“Good.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

There were more flowers you couldn’t see, at your home. There was vase upon vase, filled with plenty of flowers for you to decode their accidental (or purposeful) messages, each with their own ‘get well!’ card attached. There was only one bouquet that mattered above the rest, made of completely fake flowers. There were bright red Salvia Splendens, contrasting against the white of the kitchen counter, waiting for you to come home and see them.

Spencer had thought that he should buy you flowers that lasted forever, just as long as his love would, just as long as he would forever be yours.

______________________________________________________________

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