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aperrywilliams · 11 months

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Green Card - Ch4: Your Life, My Life, and Ours (Spencer Reid x Fem!OC)

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!OC (Ana María González)

Series summary: What reason leads two complete strangers to marry? For Spencer, the chance of his mom being admitted into a new medical trial. For Ana María González is to get the elusive green card.

Chapter summary: Ana and Spencer think they will soon get what they were waiting for. Only one of them will. Or: this is getting more complicated than we thought.

Word Count: 5.3k

CW: Some strong words. Talking about deceased parents (Ana). Talking about dads leaving their families (Ana and Spencer). Entire Spanish sentences (you have been warned). If I forgot something, let me know.

A/N: Chapter 4 is here. I particularly enjoyed writing this one. Let me know what you think.

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Spencer vented enough about his relationship with Maeve that afternoon. After two more cups of coffee, Ana already knew how Spencer had met Maeve and the dynamic they had been keeping for over a year.

"You're right. Things between you two are complicated, indeed," she concluded. Spencer sighed.

"I should end it, right?"

Ana held her hands up in surrender.

"I'm not judging you, and I'm not giving any advice regarding this. I'm the worst when it comes to romantic relationships. Too messy for me, always," Ana confessed.

"It's bad to say I'm a little relieved I'm not the only one with messy relationships?" Spencer asked, making her chuckle.

"Yeah. Not very nice of you, but understandable," Ana conceded, checking her phone. It was late, and she didn't want to take advantage of her welcome at Spencer's place. He walked her to the door, thanking her for listening to him.

After she left, Spencer plopped again on the couch. Apparently, it was confirmed talking about things brings some relief to people. That didn't mean he had any resolution, but at least he felt less overwhelmed. Ana was indeed a good listener.

They didn't talk again for a couple of days. Spencer thought it could be a time before she would get her residence. Bureaucracy is always about time.

And thinking about that, Spencer didn't get any response from Fogarty yet. That kept him a bit nervous.

But he didn't give him much of an issue either. The cases at the BAU kept him busy enough to become overly anxious. In the same way, having case after case kept him away from DC and, therefore, from the coffee shop and Ana.

The night Spencer returned to his place after a long case in New Heaven, he was skimming a new book with a cup of coffee in hand. Suddenly three loud knocks made him jump from his seat.

Opening the door, he saw Ana crying and totally drenched from the rain pouring outside. With no further question, Spencer took hold of her hand to lead her into the apartment.

"Hey, hey. Ana. What's wrong?" he asked after closing the door and inspecting Ana's face. The poor girl only could sob a babbled incoherent words. Incoherent words until Spencer paid more attention.

"Me van a deportar. Ellos - ellos me van a deportar. Estoy jodida. La cagué, Spencer. Ellos lo saben todo y me van a echar del país." (They are going to deport me. They - they are going to deport me. I'm screwed. I fucked it up, Spencer. They know all of it and they are going to kick me out of the US).

Spencer's eyes widened at the realization.

"Wait, what? How? How do they know?"

Still sobbing, Ana produced an envelope from her purse and gave it to him. It was a letter from the Immigration Office.

'Ms. Reid,

Regarding the new information submitted and after the visit of USCIS agents to your home, we instruct you and Mr. Reid to attend an Examination Interview, according to the legal faculties of US law. We'll inform you date and place of this interview as soon as our office determines it.'

"Oh," Spencer muttered. He knew green card interviews existed but didn't know much about them. What he did know after reading the letter was Jones and Gorski's visit didn't go as well as they thought.

"It's over," Ana lamented, drying her tears with her thumbs. And then Spencer snapped from his stupor.

"What?"

“Cómo que qué? Es obvio! Es imposible que vayamos a una entrevista así. No nos conocemos lo suficiente, y no podremos fingir como lo hicimos con los otros agentes, que por cierto poco funcionó. (What are you asking? It’s evident! There is no way we go to an interview like that. We don’t know each other that much, and we can’t fake the way we did with Jones and Gorski. And clearly it didn’t work either),” Ana complained, falling into crying again.

She had a point. Spencer heard that kind of interview could be very detailed. It wasn't surprising, though; the goal was to find the people lying about their marriage for the green card. Tragicomically, people like themselves.

"Ana, you need to calm down. Come on, sit here," Spencer helped her to the couch and sat by her side. "Now you need to breathe, please. Follow my lead."

As she tentatively did so, trying to subside the tears and the incipient hiccup, Spencer racked his brain, looking for a solution. It pained him to see Ana like this. He didn't even think about his own status yet.

"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I pulled you into this," Ana apologized when she found a steady breathing pattern.

"Don't say that. We're in this together, okay? I'm going to get you some water. Please, keep deep breathing," he said, patting Ana's hand before strolling to his kitchen.

While filling a glass with fresh water, Spencer's brain worked fast. The letter wasn't good news, but neither was an end road. They wanted to test them. And what do you do when you need to pass a test? Well, you study. That's what you do. Why should this be different?

Handing her the glass of water, Spencer sat again by Ana's side. The girl thanked him and downed the liquid relatively fast.

"I came here and didn't even call. I don't usually be like this. I mean, this kind of visceral and impulsive. I'm just- when I got the letter, I freaked out," Ana explained.

"I understand. And you did okay coming here. It's a lot and enough to be overwhelmed," Spencer said, taking the glass from her hands and leaving it on the coffee table.

"I guess. And I know this was a possibility, but I really thought we had pulled it off," Ana lamented, running a hand over her hair.

"We still can," Spencer pointed calmly, making Ana's head snap.

"What? You're considering we can go to the interview?"

"Yes. I do."

"But Spencer, they will ask everything about our life together. A life we don't have if you didn't notice."

"That's why we'll study."

"Study? Like for an exam?"

"Exactly."

"I know you have a Ph.D. and stuff, but this isn't something you just can memorize. I mean- yeah, maybe I could remember your mother's and colleagues' names, but it doesn't mean I know you."

Ana had a point. Memorizing facts was only part of the deal. But Spencer was determined to make it work.

"That's why we'll get to know each other to prove them wrong."

"And how do you suggest doing that? Living like a real husband and wife?" Ana laughed. But it subsided quickly when she saw Spencer's serious demeanor. "Are you saying-?" She asked, now worried about the implications.

"No. Not like that. I mean, we can improve our knowledge of each other by sharing our routines. Not doing marital life, of course, but as friends or roommates? It could work."

Ana wondered what was worse: marrying a complete stranger to get the green card or living with your stranger husband to pass an exam to get the green card. Had she a choice? Sure, she had one: running from Spencer's apartment to make her suitcase and leave the US for good. But it wasn't what she wanted.

"So, you are suggesting we should live together?" Ana double-checked. Spencer nodded.

"Until the interview. I mean- we can be roommates. I have a spare room you can use. And we can study in our free time. Of course, we can do this only if you are okay with it. If not, we can think of another thing," Spencer clarified, knowing it was a lot. It was for him, at least, but he was willing to try it.

It was absurd, but at this point, what it wasn't?

There wasn't much thinking about what to do. After talking to Spencer that night, Ana was determined to give the best interview ever to get her residence. So she accepted Spencer's offer.

Ana kept reassuring herself with her suitcase in hand as she was about to knock on Spencer's door that Sunday afternoon.

It would be a couple of weeks. They hoped so, but there wasn't any certain. The letter said they would be notified of the interview date, and Spencer did his research, and it could be at least a matter of weeks.

Spencer opened the door and invited her in.

"Well, you already know the living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen. Please, feel free to place your things where you prefer. I'll take you to your room," he told her, walking down the hall.

The bedroom was a more decent size, larger than the room she rented. It had a small window that faced the street, and one of the walls adjoined Spencer's room.

As she scanned the place, Spencer watched her intently.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to. We can always find another alternative," Spencer told Ana, suspecting the doubts she might still have. That got Ana out of the inspection mode.

"Spencer, it's okay. You're right. It's the efficient way to go. And it will be only for a couple of weeks. It's me who would be asking if you're okay with this. This's your place. I'm the intruder here."

What Ana said was true. Spencer was used to living alone. He only shared a place when he was studying at Caltech, and it was only for a few months. After that, he got used to being alone. Even Maeve hadn't stayed more than one night when she visited.

"Don't say that. I suggested it and wouldn't if I'm not okay with it. I would tell you I am excellent company as a roommate, but I would be lying," Spencer declared, making Ana chuckle. "I assure you, though, you can feel free to be in this apartment as if it were yours. Now I'll leave you so you can settle in."

That was sweet of him, Ana thought. Sure, it was in both parties' interests this turn out well, but it still seemed to Ana that Spencer was doing more than expected.

She was left tidying her clothes and her other belongings. They agreed to start studying that night over dinner.

When Ana left the room a few hours later, Spencer had a pizza box on the table and was brewing coffee.

"It's probably not as good as the one you make, but I hope it works," he told her, pointing to the pot.

"I'm sure it will."

After eating a few slices of pizza, the conversation turned to Ana and her life since arriving in the US.

"I have been working at the coffee shop for six months now. This is my only income. I live in a small room I can rent, and I have nobody here," she recounted, sipping her coffee.

"What about your coworker? Is she your friend?" Spencer asked, biting another pizza slide.

"Who? Sarah? I guess. She is nice, but I wouldn't say she is my friend-friend," Ana acknowledged.

"And you left friends in your hometown?"

Ana thought about that for a moment.

"Not really, if I'm honest. I'm not very friendly in general. Not here, not there. And don't you dare to judge me for that, okay?" Ana said defensively. Spencer shook his head.

"Hey. I'm not judging you. I wouldn't consider myself much friendly either, you know?" he said. Ana nodded in understanding.

"And I bet people nag you about it all the time," she filled. Spencer chuckled.

"Sort of. But now, I interpret it as a form of concern. It is not always welcomed, though."

"Oh boy, I feel you," Ana agreed, grabbing another pizza slide from the box. "My turn," she prefaced. "What about you? FBI, uh?" Spencer nodded.

"Yes. I got to the Academy when I was twenty. I started as a profiler in the Behavioral Analysis Unit at twenty-two." Ana's eyes widened.

"You fucking kidding me? How is it you were an FBI agent at twenty-two? Didn't you say you had a Ph.D.?" Ana tried to assemble the pieces.

"Uh - well. Three Ph.D., actually. I graduated from school at twelve," Spencer clarified.

"Wow. I thought Doogie Howser didn't exist!" Ana said, amazed. Spencer's brows furrowed.

"Who?" he asked. Was Ana talking about a scientist he didn't know?

"You know, the young medical doctor? The guy who performed surgeries at fourteen?" she clued, but Spencer's face showed no recognition.

"It was a famous TV show! Well, it was where I lived. With the Latin American translation, of course."

A TV show; that's why Spencer didn't hear any of it.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I don't know much about pop culture," he apologized. Of course, it wasn't the first time it happened to him. It was like a continuous remembrance of every Monday's first talk with Garcia when she rambles about her weekend.

"Don't blame you. I watched a lot of shit in my youth, to be honest," Ana dismissed, seeing the troubled expression on Spencer's face.

They talked for a few hours until the yawning came. Since they both had to get up early in the morning, they agreed to go to sleep and continue the next day.

Ana fell asleep with the idea that it had to work out no matter how strange all this was. Spencer drew the same conclusion before falling into a deep sleep.

The next morning, when Spencer came out of his room fully dressed, he noticed Ana had already left for work, leaving a pot of freshly brewed coffee on the counter and a note: 'Good morning. Here's a little treat for the hospitality.'

Spencer smiled, serving a cup and taking a sip of - in his opinion - the best coffee in DC.

When Ana returned from her shift in the middle of the afternoon, the apartment was expectably empty. Having more time than the day before, she took her time to look around. In addition to the shelves lined with books, she noted the few photographs Spencer had. In one of them, a young Spencer appeared with presumably his mother. The resemblance was undeniable. In others, with a group of people. Ana recognized some of them from the afternoon Spencer went to the coffee shop with his colleagues. But if Ana had to compare, more academic certificates were hanging on the walls than photographs. That contributed to Spencer's statement of being a man with little sociability.

She felt creepy peering into Spencer's apartment that way, but she had to learn more about him and prepare for the interview. That was the reason she gave herself, although the curiosity the pumpkin pie boy prompted in her was undeniable.

Late at night, Spencer still had yet to arrive. Ana suspected perhaps he had had to leave the city. Her suspicions were confirmed by a text message later. 'Sorry, I should have notified you sooner. I went to North Carolina on a case. I'll be back in a few days. SR.'

Spencer came back from North Carolina after four days. Exhausted, he was about to leave the BAU after the debriefing when his phone rang. Without looking at the caller-ID, he answered.

"Hello?"

"Dr. Reid? I'm calling from Dr. Fogarty's office. We want to arrange a new meeting with you and your wife to agree on the conditions for your mother's admission to the medical trial. When do you think we can schedule this meeting?"

Spencer kept flabbergasted after the call. Did that mean they had already accepted his mom? They still wanted a meeting with him and his wife. Shit. They wanted to meet Ana. He would have to ask her to come with him—this time with a complete and convincing story about them. He hoped Ana wouldn't have issues about it.

"That's great, Spencer! They only want us to make it official," Ana reassured him. "And, of course, I will go with you." Any apprehension he had was no longer there. Ana was willing, and she seemed truly happy by the news.

"We need to study then," Spencer asserted. That made Ana's smile falter. It was late already, and she had had a hard shift that day.

"Now?" Ana narrowed her eyes.

"Yes. The meeting is in two days. We need to be prepared," Spencer told her, patting the free spot on the couch.

Ana huffed but sat on the couch by his side nonetheless.

"Fine. Okay. What do you want to know today?" she asked, crisscrossing her legs, facing Spencer.

"We should start with the basics. Tell me where you were born and about your family."

Ana bit her lower lip. She wasn't keen on talking about her family but knew Spencer should learn everything about her.

"Okay. Here we go. I was born in a small town named Campanario in 1982. My father's name was Alberto González, and my mother's was María Galvez. They are both deceased."

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbled.

"It's okay. It's been a while already. My mom died when I was twelve. My dad four years ago. I don't have any siblings, or at least that I know of. I'm not sure if my dad had any more children after he left my mom," Ana shrugged.

"So your dad didn't stay with you for too long," Spencer pointed.

"No. But enough time to not want to see him again. He left when I was nine. I only went to his funeral because I knew my mom wouldn't forgive me if I didn't. So much so I'm sure she would come to haunt me in my sleep," Ana let out a sad chuckle. Spencer looked at her, seeing the longing in her eyes. That told him Ana and her mom's bond must have been strong.

"Okay. Your turn," Ana said, grabbing a notepad and a pen from the coffee table. Spencer frowned. "What? I need to take notes. I don't have a brain like yours."

Spencer told Ana about his family and a bit of his childhood. His mom's illness and his dad leaving. What he had to do with his mom when he turned eighteen.

Many of the things he said were recounted as facts- like he was telling a story it wasn't his life. But behind the calm and steady voice, Ana could sense how affected he was for most of them. She couldn't help the comment leaving her mouth.

"I guess we both have enough daddy issues to fill anyone's gap." Once the words left her mouth, she regretted it. She crossed a line, and it was wrong. But she got confused when she saw Spencer laughing.

"You know? When I have to tell this to anyone, the most common phrases I hear are, 'Oh, I'm sorry,' 'It's so sad,' 'Poor kid,' and so on. It's refreshing to see someone trading empathetic words with a tint of irony," Spencer explained.

"Wow. It's good you see it that way. I was thinking of getting my ass kicked because of this," Ana spoke after an exaggerated sigh, prompting Spencer to shake his head and keep laughing.

The meeting with Fogarty was arranged for a Thursday at 4 pm. Ana finished her shift after lunch that day, and Spencer asked Emily for the afternoon off. Spencer picked Ana up from the apartment and drove to the sanitarium. After putting their rings on in the car, they reviewed some details they had discussed in the previous days.

"Dr. Reid. It's good to see you again," Fogarty greeted, shaking Spencer's hand before shifting his gaze to Ana. "And you must be Mrs. Reid."

"Ana Reid. Nice to meet you," Ana extended her hand to Fogarty.

After the formal greetings, Fogarty guided them into the office and invited them to sit.

"Well, Dr. Reid. As my assistant told you by phone, I wanted to review with you and your wife some details regarding your mother's placement in the medical trial," Fogarty explained.

"That means my mom got the spot?" Spencer asked for clarification, and Fogarty nodded.

"Yes, she did. Due to your current marital status and with all the other requirements filled, there does no impede for Diana Reid to getting into the program."

"That's awesome, baby," Ana happily said, squeezing Spencer's hand and looking at him.

"Yes. It is," Spencer confirmed, kissing Ana's knuckles. Fogarty smiled at the couple.

"How long have you known each other? I'm asking since I can see you have only been married for a month," the doctor asked. It was a question Spencer and Ana had rehearsed before.

"A long time, you know?" Ana started. "We met in Vegas when we were young, but after Spencer left for college, we lost contact."

"Yeah. I really thought I would never see her again. Until we found each other here in DC four years ago," Spencer added.

"You must be asking why we didn't marry before," Ana anticipated. "It was kind of my fault. I love Spencer with all my heart, but I'm not a huge believer in institutional bonds, you know? Don't get me wrong; I've been married to him in heart and soul since we reunited years ago, but doing it on paper wasn't my priority until he told me about this opportunity for Diana. That's why I considered it. He didn't want to tell me so I wouldn't feel forced to do it, but it would have been selfish of me not to if I already know I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him," Ana confided Fogarty.

The couple also agreed upon that explanation, but Ana made it so natural that Spencer was impressed. It felt less plausible when they were rehearsing it.

"You must really love Dr. Reid, then. Considering this particular situation, you agreed on something you didn't contemplate before," Fogarty pointed. Ana's cheeks flushed. This time she was projecting her current situation and the fact she actually did something she didn't think of doing. Of course, she has a powerful reason to, but Spencer's motivations were somehow in the mix.

"After knowing, I didn't doubt it. I love Diana, but furthermore, it's for the love Spencer has for her. They always have been each other rock, and I know he would do anything for her and vice versa. Between Diana's illness and Spencer's job, things have not been easy for them," Ana paused before continuing. "You know, I lost my mom in my early youth, and still, there are some hard days for me. That's why I treasure being part of the Reid family. It's a privilege I pretend to honor in all my capacity."

Fogarty looked satisfied with the answer, and Spencer didn't expect it at all. That wasn't something they talked about or agreed to say, and it touched Spencer's heart. His eyes were fixed on her, and Ana could feel it. That's why she fought the urge to look at him back.

Fogarty continued the meeting with technical details about Diana's arrival and the first steps on her treatment. Then he dispatched the couple because he had another appointment.

Ana and Spencer didn't talk until they were in the car, taking their rings off.

"Thank you," Spencer said to Ana, who smiled at him.

"Don't mention it. I told you I would come with you," she reminded him.

"And for what you said there, too. I mean, the last part about being a Reid?" Ana's cheeks tinted a shade of pink.

"Oh. That. Sorry if it was too much," Ana apologized in advance. Spencer shook his head.

"Not at all. Is it something you think, though? I mean, leaving aside the part of us being actually- you know-" he trailed off.

"Leaving aside the part of us being actually in love? Yes." Ana conceded. Spencer nodded, not knowing what else to say.

To salvage them of an awkward moment, Ana changed the subject. "Well, I guess this calls for a celebration, huh?"

"Yeah, sure," Spencer agreed.

"How about a homemade dinner? I can prepare it," she offered. Spencer shook his head.

"Ana, you don't have to. We can order something," he tried to persuade her.

"No. None of that. Your mom got a spot in a top medical trial. That's great news. You can't celebrate it with pizza or Chinese. But we need to go to the grocery store. With what you have in the fridge, we won't do anything, honestly," Ana complained. Spencer huffed. "Hey, am I lying? Can you name the last meal you cooked with ingredients from your fridge?" Spencer rolled his eyes.

"Fine. We're going to the grocery store, then."

Walking through the aisles, Ana carefully scanned the shelves to pick the needed products. Spencer followed her with the cart, half full of things he had never bought.

"Are you sure we need all of this?" Spencer asked, worried. After putting in the cart two bags of frozen corn, Ana replied.

"Of course. What I want to cook needs veggies, carbs, and meat. Not to mention we need to buy more things for your empty pantry."

"Hey. It's not empty!" Spencer protested.

"Sorry, you're right. It's not empty, just filled with boxes of cereal and coffee beans," Ana corrected mockingly.

"The essentials," Spencer pointed.

"I should have already suspected this after seeing the sugar you put in your coffee. I don't get it, though."

"What?"

"I mean, you're a certificated genius. I bet you have read a lot of research about unhealthy habits and what they can do to you," she said and turned to scan what brand of peas she would choose.

"Sure, I had done it. It doesn't mean I do something about it," Spencer recognized, and Ana looked at him. "I'm not proud, okay? But it had been my life since I can remember," he shrugged. Ana's expression softened. Now connecting the dots, it made sense to her.

"Well, that's why I'm going to show you what you have been missing here, mister," Ana teased. Spencer arched a brow.

"It's doctor, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. Husband-doctor. Why don't you go to get the bread, honey? I'll weigh these tomatoes, and I’ll join you there,” Ana winked. Spencer chuckled.

"Yes, ma'am."

Spencer did so, driving the cart two aisles down and submerging himself in diverse bread types. When he was choosing his brand, a voice it wasn’t Ana's called him.

"Boy wonder?"

"Oh. Hey, Garcia," Spencer chimed like someone caught doing something illicit. "What - what are you doing here?" He stuttered, looking around uncomfortably.

"You know, getting some new shoes," Penelope quipped, but Spencer didn't flinch. "What do you think, genius? The same as you, doing grocery!"

"Oh, yeah. Of course, you do."

Spencer kept standing as Penelope examined his nervous demeanor. Shifting her gaze to the cart, she knew something was off.

"Are you alone?"

"Me? Oh, yeah -" Spencer was about to assure when Ana's voice stopped him mid-sentence.

"I can believe how expensive this store is. These vegetables-" Ana stopped talking when she saw Spencer in front of a blonde she recognized from the coffee shop.

Shit.

Spencer turned to see Ana standing behind him with a bag of tomatoes. "I mean, no. Not alone," Spencer corrected. Garcia arched a brow, an amused smile on her face.

"I know you," Garcia told Ana.

Double shit.

This wasn't expected. Not at all. What would they say now?

“You’re the girl from the coffee shop,” Penelope realized. Ana looked at Spencer for a sign about who would handle this. He nodded subtly.

“Yes. She is. Penelope, this is my friend Ana from Vegas; Ana, this is my friend Penelope from the BAU.”

“Hi! Nice to meet you. Although my curiosity strikes again. Friends from Vegas? It didn’t seem you knew each other when we were at the coffee shop,” Penelope pointed as she shook Ana’s hand.

“Yeah. About that,” Spencer prefaced. “I know you guys. If I had told you we knew each other, you wouldn’t have let her alone, and she was working.”

Penelope scoffed.

“We are not that bad! But okay, maybe we have made a little interrogation. Anyway, what’s the story? Why I haven't heard about you before?”

Ana saw how Spencer’s brain was about to combust, so she thought she could help.

“Well, we lost contact after Spencer left Vegas for college, and I moved with my family to South America. I only returned to the US a year ago and settled in DC the last September, starting at the coffee shop. One day I arrived at work, and Spencer was there. So, in short, you could say we are still reconnecting in our friendship,” Ana explained.

“Oh! Old friendship. I like that. And you sure you’re not dating? I mean, you are doing grocery together. If anyone sees you would say you look like a couple.”

“Penelope!” Spencer scolded. Ana chuckled at the straightforwardness.

“We’re not dating. We are just getting some things here because I promised Spencer to cook him a decent meal,” Ana explained. Garcia’s eyes widened.

“Oh! That's awesome! Gods know how badly this boy needs a homemade meal from time to time.”

“That's what I have been told him,” Ana seconded.

“Can you please at least acknowledge I’m right here?” Spencer complaint.

“We say these things because we love you, boy wonder,” Garcia said, patting Spencer’s shoulder. Ana smiled at Garcia’s display of affection and the cute pout Spencer sported. It seemed more than a relationship between colleagues. They looked like real friends. She made a mental note about it to ask Spencer later.

Her notification ring distracted Penelope from the interrogation she had Ana and Spencer in. Checking the phone, she huffed in frustration.

“What is it, Garcia?” Spencer asked, worried.

“Nah. It’s not a big deal. I just got canceled the dinner I had tonight. And silly me buying nice things,” she complained, peering at her cart.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mumbled.

“Don’t be. Sergio will be better company tonight. Okay, you two, I’ll let you be. It was nice to meet you, nice girl,” Garcia prompted her goodbyes. Ana saw Spencer’s sad face. It was like he wanted to do something for his friend but didn’t know what.

“You know, I’ll make a typical dish I learned from my mom’s family. I don't mind ‘pelar otra papa y poner algo más de agua en la olla,’ really,” Ana said. Both Spencer and Garcia looked at her, puzzled. The girl laughed. “I just said I don’t mind having another guest at dinner. The more, the merrier,” she clarified, looking at Spencer for if she had gone too far. Spencer smiled.

“Oh, no. I don’t want to intrude on a dinner between old friends,” Penelope dismissed. Spencer scoffed.

“Come on, Garcia. I know you are dying to ask more about Ana, me, and our life,” Spencer affirmed. Penelope narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, faking offense.

“I would never! But since you insist so kindly. Let’s taste Ana’s dish,” Garcia cheered.

Spencer and Ana shared a complicity look. This dinner and this night promise to be exciting, no doubt of it.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!oc #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x latina!oc #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfictions #spencer reid series #green card #spencer reid x original female character

36 notes · View notes

radiant-reid · 1 year

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okay care i would love your take on this: how would all of the cat adams situations be different if spencer was married before he ever had to deal with her?

like the dinner: would it be easier to lie to cat if he was actually married?? would she still fall in love with him if she knew he was married or see the wife as a threat and try to “take” spencer?

or prison: would spencer even be going to mexico without discussing it with his wife? would cat try to impersonate his wife when she sexually violated him? and if the wife worked for the bau and was in jj’s place during the interrogation where cat says she’s pregnant, would the entire interaction be different?

or the date night with the whole max thing: would she even go on the date when he was married? or kiss him like she did? would max still be involved as like a friend or would that entire situation have to be written differently?

sorry for all my questions haha i’m a chronic overthinker, much love !! xx

don't be sorry at all, this is my favorite topic to talk about

dinner: i have already rewritten this episode ahah. so basically, yeah he still goes on the date. I mean, Garcia is in trouble, there's basically nothing he won't do to help her. Spencer gives Cat his real first name and the story would be he wants to kill his real wife, but i think Spencer refuses to wear his real wedding ring (this is how the plot where Cat figures him out because of his wedding ring is new)

prison: this one i'm torn about. because i think he's really good at hiding things, even if he's married so i don't think his wife knew about Mexico/knew the whole story. in that hallucination (bc lindsay didn't SA him, Cat just told him she did) he has where it's maeve he's having sex with, it would be his wife. tbh, i think Cat would force her to be there. She's sadistic and she would love to be all over Spencer knowing his wife has to watch, especially when she was outsmarted by the BAU/the Reids. Spencer obviously strangles her and then he's like you should leave me to his wife because he's very ashamed and he's been in prison for 3 months so he's feeling very unworthy. and she's like spencer reid, i am in love with you and none of this has been fair but it is not your fault

date night: Cat wants that date even more. I think she would get it by kidnapping Max (since she'd be just a friend of the Reids)/ a member of Max's family/ a member of Y/n's family/ or worst case, one of the Reid children if there are any. And Cat would be all over him at the door... which Y/n has to watch. Of course, Mrs Reid is smarter and she puts up one hell of a bluff about being angry at Spencer. At this point, Cat has been dying to see their marriage bust up for years, so that's where she lets her guard down

#spencer reid #criminal minds

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amberjazmyn · 6 months

Text

dr spencer reid one shot

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - i'll always come back for you

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - sad, angst, death of maeve

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - what should have happened after maeve died and how i wished we (the whole cm fandom) saw emily prentiss drop everything and fly back to be there for spencer after the death of maeve. set after "zugswang" but just before "magnum opus"

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - i was inspired to write this after rereading other people's same visions of emily dropping everything and flying back to the usa to be there for spencer. and because in my head and i'm sure all the other's who have written these exact fanfics, this is a canon event and when spencer wasn't talking to the rest of the team and shutting himself away in his apartment, he rang emily and she just straight up dropped everything for him without a second to process or for spencer to even give a proper explanation.

masterlist

---

he was heartbroken.

he felt like his heart had been stepped on repeatedly.

growing up, he thought he'd never fall in love.

and then as he got older and finally did fall in love, it was taken away from him.

all because of a selfish woman who couldn't handle the fact that she wasn't as intelligent as she played herself up to be.

and that bitch cost spencer the life of the woman of his dreams.

the life of the woman he planned to potentially marry and create a family with outside of his work family with the federal bureau of investigation's behavioural analysis unit.

he wept on the floor of where his lover was shot dead in a murder-suicide all because of thomas merton and because he didn't try hard enough to convince diane him for her.

- - -

it had been days since maeve donovan's death. which meant it had been days since spencer had slept, ate, kept a clean apartment and done anything other than cry and wallow in his overwhelming grief.

a grief that was unlike any other he'd felt before. this grief wasn't the same grief he had when he spent ten weeks at jj's crying over what he thought was emily's death...emily.

it had been at least a couple of months since emily had gone back to london to work for interpol. spencer missed emily. missed her more than he thought he could miss anyone...he needed to see someone, anyone and whilst he appreciated, loved and lived for his bau family, for jj, for penelope, for david, for derek, for aaron, for alex, he needed someone that wasn't there when maeve died. and, the only person he could think of with his head in this tailspin of grief was emily.

he needed emily. and it seemed as though emily sensed it.

because, before spencer could even tap on her contact information, emily rang him first.

"...hey spence, i heard what happened, are you okay?" emily whispers over the phone, knowing that spencer wouldn't be able to fathom talking any louder than a whisper

"...no...i...i...i'm in pain, em...everything hurts" spencer whimpered as he felt like his body was on fire

"i am so sorry honey. what do you need?" emily says softly. her own heart breaking for the kid who she called her own little brother

"you..." he was worried emily couldn't hear him but she did

"...of course. leave the door unlocked for me spence. i'll message you when i've arrived back in the states. i know you've been refusing the help of the rest of the team. promise me you won't shut me out." whilst it may sound like she was demanding, her voice was soft and anything but demanding

"i promise...just, please em...i...i...i need you..." spencer sniffled as his heart continued to spread pain throughout his body that emily sensed

"...i'm on my way honey. please don't do anything stupid before i get to you. i don't want to see you covered in your own blood or anything, please..." emily hated seeing those she loved in pain but none more so than spencer

"...thank you. and i promise, i won't do anything stupid. i...i love you, emily..." spencer sniffled, disregarding his tears as he curled into himself on his couch

"...good...and i love you too, spence. i'll be with you before you know it..." emily said before spencer murmured a small "...i know" before they parted ways so emily could book the first flight back out to the states

and, blessed be to god, the first flight back to the states was midnight that very same day. and due to the timezone difference, it didn't even feel like a day had gone by before emily had arrived in the states. whilst spencer was nowhere near smiling or thinking of it, waking up from his sleepless sleep to see a text from emily that she was in the states and was on her way to him gave him the feeling of smiling, joy and hope.

---

but, before emily even arrived back in the states, she had to let her unit chief at interpol know why she was all of a sudden flying back. and flying back so quickly without much notice and on a midnight redeye. and, her reasoning? a family emergency. because, this was a family emergency to emily. anything that involved spencer, penelope...heck, anyone in the bau back in the states were her family. and if she could drop everything she was doing for all of her former bau babies, she absolutely ten thousand per cent would. but, because it was spencer of all people, she knew it wasn't time for her to make this a catch-up with the rest of her former team members. so she didn't. she told no-one from the rest of the team that she was coming back to the states. because she knew and it was clear that if spencer was ignoring their gift baskets and them stopping by his apartment door, that it wasn't them he wanted to help him grieve. there was a reason, a specific reason he wanted emily and she wasn't going to betray that by using that to have the rest of the team join her. so, whilst she was in the states, she wasn't going to be talking or messaging anyone else in the states. she was just going to be there for spencer and be there for him for as long as he needed her to be there for. and she didn't care if he needed her to be there forever, she would be there for him and she'd never leave him.

which is what brings us to present day. emily stood in front of spencer's apartment door with all of the gift baskets of penelope and the rest of the bau team at her feet.

she's just about to announce herself when she swears she hears a small voice come from inside the apartment, "...the door's open..." and it was a small voice, it was spencer's

"...do you want me to bring in the gift baskets? i don't want your neighbours to steal them..." emily's voice was also soft as spencer managed a scoff in his grief-ridden stupor

"...yeah, that's probably a good idea...thanks em..." spencer mumbled as emily smiled

her suitcase small enough that she could grab it as well as the three or four gift baskets that were filled to the brim with food and other things that were sure to (at some stage) bring a smile to spencer's face. and just like spencer promised over the phone just a day ago, although it felt like the phone call was years ago, he left his door unlocked for emily. smiling, she let herself in skillfully, even with everything in her hands. placing everything on the floor or on a table nearby, she released the kinks in her body and straight away brought spencer in for a hug. it didn't take a genius to figure out that spencer was grieving and was stuck in that cycle.

he was wearing his pyjamas with a gown draped over his skinny body that seemed even skinnier and it broke emily's heart. it was clear from just a look up and down of his body that he hadn't eaten since that day. emily worried he was dehydrated but, she breathed somewhat a sigh of relief to see many cups and mugs laying around his apartment. signifying that whilst he hadn't been eating, it was clear he was living off of water and coffee. which, whilst not terrible per say was still bad because he still needed to eat. his apartment was a mess. books had been sent flying from it's shelves in the bookcases to the floor, blankets were spread out messily on the couch which is where it looked as though to emily is where spencer had been sleeping. everything just looked like the person living in this apartment was grieving and, it was true. because spencer was grieving. he was grieving the girl of his dreams of whom he had only been in contact with for 100.5 days yet, he had fallen in love with her over the course of those 100.5 days but he never got to tell her that.

in fact, he remembers his last words to her. of course he did. the bloody eidetic memory. he couldn't ever forget. even the things he wanted to forget, he couldn't.

in maeve's last moments, spencer remembered telling her that "i don't love you, i'm sorry" before spencer was too late and couldn't save her.

whilst emily looked around spencer's beautiful apartment excluding the grief mess, she loved it. it was the apartment that emily always pictured seeing spencer live in. it had gorgeous green walls, lovely bookshelves, and even some stained glass windows. absolutely what she imagined for her best friend, spencer reid. except, right now, what she saw in front of her, the strewn blankets on the couch, the strewn books over the floor, the little to no food she noticed that wasn't in his pantry or fridge. seeing all of it broke her heart. she knew from prior experience when she was in the bau that spencer didn't take things like death and change in what others would consider to be the "normal" way of reacting to it. so, she knew on the flight back home to the states that seeing spencer, his apartment wouldn't be clean, it wouldn't be filled to the brim with food and all that there would be in the apartment was darkness, sadness and a grieving spencer as he grieved in his own spencer way that spencer grieved.

but, it was obvious that just having to share the space with someone else, someone who didn't bare witness to watching the love of his life be murdered in front of him, was already filling his heart with hope. hope of that maybe some day, not today or tomorrow or the next day but, some day, he wouldn't be this sad and it wouldn't feel like it is such a struggle to breathe everyday. and he liked that feeling. he liked knowing that with emily here with him, the same emily that left the bau for interpol and didn't witness maeve's uncalled for murder, dropped everything and made herself available for spencer when he needed pleaded for her to be with him.

during this time, emily had been putting away the foods that had been in the baskets from penelope and the team into the pantry and fridge. making a mental list to remind her that at some stage during her stay with spencer to go grocery shopping since whilst this food could sustain the both of them, it wouldn't sustain them for very long. walking back into the lounge room, spencer's curled up on the couch underneath the blankets, his eyes closed and a book clutched to his chest.

"...you asleep or awake?" emily asks softly

without opening his eyes or speaking, he signs "awake" and emily nods her head

"do you want me to stay with you and do you want to talk? or do you want to be left alone and i get the spare room ready whilst you sleep?" emily asks softly again

but before she could even finish the whole sentence, spencer signed "stay, please" and emily obliged, moving to the couch, emily snuggled up to spencer who straight away latched himself onto her

"ok, i'll stay spence. but, if you do get tired, please do sleep, okay?" emily said, her fingers immediately brushing through spencer's matted curls

"as much as i'd love to go back to sleep, i haven't really been sleeping. it's just been broken up intervals of r.e.m sleep before i wake up again..." spencer sighed, before speaking up again

"...besides, you flew over 1,000 miles to be here with me. it'll be rude if i just slept the whole time, don't you think?" he mumbled, looking at emily for the first time since she's arrived

"no. i don't think it'd be rude if you slept the whole time, spence. when we...when humans lose other humans that we loved, it completely changes us. it sends us into a tailspin of 180 degrees..." emily trails off before continuing as spencer listens intently

"...some people continue on with their life straight away as if nothing happens, before, eventually, it all comes crashing back on top of them. whereas others don't continue on with their life straight away. for those people, their world is on stop or pause and they struggle to continue living their life the way they lived it before tradegy struck. and, for you, spence, since...unfortunately, this isn't the first time you've been struck with such tradegy, your body and self knows you should be continuing with life and you normally do. but, because this is the first time it's been someone who you loved and loved with your whole heart, it's forced you to a striking halt that's completely wiped you out..." emily's voice was soft and full of emotions as her free hand that wasn't playing with spencer's hair found his hand and grabbed it

"...like hotch when he...when he lost haley to foyet..." spencer whispered as emily nodded her head, it was exactly like when hotch lost haley

"...exactly spence. it's exactly the same. for a while, we all saw, it was like hotch's professional world was on stop for a period of time because he had to take care of his family, take care of little jack. and then, when he felt like he had healed enough, he returned back to work and his professional world was taken off stop. and, i'll have to admit, i felt like in my own personal opinion, that he came back way too early, earlier than he was ready to return. but, in saying that, it doesn't matter what i think, or what the rest of your team thinks. whenever you feel like you are ready to return to work spence, you come back okay? and if they ask you if you are really ready, don't doubt yourself because you came back for a reason." emily stopped as spencer listened intently and nodded his head

"but...what if i'll never be ready to press play again?" spencer whimpered as his bottom lip quivered as emily gave a look of sadness

"why do you say that, spence?" emily questioned, hugging spencer tighter as spencer suddenly appreciated the sudden pressure he had been missing

"i'm just scared i'll never recover..." he trailed off as emily nodded her head, understanding perfectly

"...you're scared you'll feel like this for the rest of your life?" emily questioned as spencer nodded his head, a sob leaving his throat

"yes and i don't want to, em..." spencer sobbed as emily's tight hug didn't fall away

"...oh spence, you won't feel like this for the rest of your life. i promise, you'll get better. whilst you'll always miss her, it won't stay hurting like it hurts right now. it just takes time but you will heal," emily sighed as she hugged spencer tightly

"how much time, em?" spencer sniffled as his eyes started to droop from exhaustion as emily shook her head

"i don't know, spence. i'm sorry that i don't know. i know you want answers but i can't give you all of them," emily whispered as she moved to let spencer lay on her as she cradled him

"s'fine, em. i'm sorry that i'm like this. i shouldn't be so upset over this..." spencer mumbled as emily shook her head

"...hey, don't do that, spence. you have every right to be grieving over her. you loved her in a way that you'd never experienced before and then she was taken away from you. in a most unfair way as well. because you had to watch it happen and that's not fair, spence!" emily felt tears well in her eyes as she said that as spencer nodded his head

"i tried to save her but i...i couldn't save her. no matter what i tried to do, it just didn't work, em. i tried so hard to save her but it still wasn't enough-"

"-i know spence, i know," emily whispered tearfully as she held him tighter as he let out a low whine

"you tried so hard and it's not fair, spence. and i am so sorry that you couldn't do more for her!" emily whispered as spencer let out another low whimper

"and i know that your last words to her weren't what you would have wanted to say--" just before spencer could interrupt and tell her, emily continued

"--she still knew just how much you loved her, spence. that's why she mentioned thomas merton because she knew just how much you loved her and how much she was loved by you. she knew you had to say those last words to her if it meant it could have potentially saved her life. and i'm unexplainably sorry that it didn't save her life..." emily trailed off, purposefully skirting around saying her name as spencer sniffled

"...maeve was gorgeous em...it was crazy at just how someone like her could be so gorgeous yet so nice and innocent at the same time..." it shocked emily that spencer could even say her name, granted he whispered it

"...i know, spence. i had the privilege of being shown photos of her from penelope. maeve really was the prettiest girl. and i know she would have adored you spence, had she made it out alive that day..." emily worried she said something wrong until spencer nodded his head and smiled what looked like the smallest smile ever

"...i know, em. and that's what i'm trying my hardest to focus on. but then that's when it starts to spiral because i start to think of all the what if's. like, what if i wasn't slow or what if i reacted just that little bit quicker or what if i got to tell her that i loved her..." spencer trailed off as emily nodded her head in understanding

"...what if i got to live the rest of my life with her?" emily added in a whisper as spencer nodded his head as a singular tear streamed down his cheek

"mhm..." spencer mumbled with a sniffle as emily resting her chin on spencer's head

spencer was laying on the couch with his head resting in emily's lap which meant that emily had to very painfully and awkwardly, fold over herself so she could rest her chin on spencer's head. but, finally, managed to find a comfortable way to do it by sort of resting her upper body on the arm of the couch and then push her chin forward and down to rest on spencer's head. with her legs reclined to the side of spencer's.

---

a few days after emily arrived to help spencer, it felt like he was starting to get better. he slowly started to go back to his room to sleep rather then the couch but in the mornings, would always wake up curled up next to emily in the spare room. emily didn't hate it nor did she stop spencer from joining her in the mornings. it was clear it was helping him sleep in his room in the night so, she didn't say a thing. the food sitauation was solved the next day because emily remembered her mental note of needing to go grocery shopping. after telling her what he needed, emily left and returned with four bags filled to the brim of food that would sustain not just him but her as well for however many days she would stay for.

whilst spencer was improving, he still had blankets everywhere, he still had books spread out everywhere because he wasn't ready to take care of that part of his grief just yet. and, emily understood and she didn't try to change it or force him to clean it.

however, that changed when the bau went on a case to san francisco. it was a tough and weird case that involved blood being exsanguinated. which was then used as the medium that the unsub was using to paint his canvases on. at first, the team thought the unsub was drinking the blood but, after help from spencer, it was discovered that it was used for a whole other reason.

that was when emily and even spencer, came to the realisation that it was time for spencer to return back to work and time for emily to go back to london. so, that's what they did. spencer changed out of his pyjamas and into acceptible enough work clothes but still with the hint that he was grieving and with emily, sent her off back to london. and then, spencer took the next commerical flight to san francisco to help his team with the case.

---

this was a little bit sad but, i just had the inspo to write this! i did want to expand a little more but decided not too.

ok ily bye xx

wc; 3695

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid x reader #angst #derek morgan #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #zugzwang #magnum opus

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casefile · 8 days

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PORTRAYAL SUMMARIES, UNTIL DETAILED BACKSTORIES ARE WRITTEN UP PLEASE FEEL FREE TO IM ME AROUND ANY QUESTIONS YOU MAY HAVE.

EDWARD MUNSON, PULLED AWAY FROM CANON AND WRITTEN AS AN ORIGINAL CHARACTER; DEATH FOLLOWS. THE EVENTS IN HAWKINS HAPPENED BUT HE SURVIVED THE UPSIDE DOWN, A WANTED MAN AND BRANDED A MURDERER, HE COULDN'T RETURN HOME. BELIEVED DEAD HE TOOK HIS OPPORTUNITY, AND MADE A RUN FOR IT. THIS JUST HIS JOURNEY AFTER. / ALSO LIKELY TO WRITE HIM WITH THE DAISY JONES AND THE SIX UNIVERSE.

HARTLEY 'HART' MONROE, ORIGINAL CHARACTER AFFILIATED WITH NONPAREIL'S TEDDY. ROUGH START FOR THIS BOY, NOT A GREAT FAMILY LIFE, JOINED THE RAF, WORKED THROUGH THE RANKS, NOW A GROUP CAPTAIN, KNOWN FOR HIS SUCCESSFUL RECKLESS MANEUVERS AND RISK TAKING.

JAMES BARNES, MOSTLY COMIC CANON BUT WITH ADAPTED TIMELINE. TIME PERIOD AFTER ESCAPING HIS TIME AS THE WINTER SOLDIER IS ONLY BRIEFLY SEATED WITHIN A REDEMPTION ARC, HE DECIDED AGAINST IT AFTER 8 YEARS. IN THAT TIME HE WORKED ALONGSIDE SHIELD (HATED IT) AND THE AVENGERS (ALSO HATED IT), HE HAS COME TO ACCEPT THAT HIM AND TWS ARE TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE, AND SO SHOULD THE WORLD. HIS IDENTITY AS WINTER SOLDIER IS PUBLICLY KNOWN. BUT HE NOW WORKS FREELANCE/SEMI RETIRED, HAS A CAT CALLED ALPINE AND A SERVICE DOG CALLED SARGE. JUST DON'T FORGET, HE WAS ONCE CONSIDERED ONE OF THE WORLDS DEADLIEST ASSASSINS.

NATASHA ROMANOVA, FIRST YEARS ARE PRACTICALLY IDENTICALLY TO THAT OF THE COMICS. ONLY AFTER DEFLECTION DOES HER STORY CHANGE. INSTEAD OF TAKING A PATH OF REDEMPTION AND EVENTUALLY TO A HERO, SHE FALLS INTO GOTHAM, A MORALLY QUESTIONABLE DESTINATION. THERE SHE CREATES 'THE WEB' AN INTERACTIVE GALLERY IN WHICH SHE USES AS A GUISE. HER LIFE IS ABOUT SURVIVAL, INDEPENDENCE AND SPINNING SOMETHING OF HER CONTROL. WHILST HER INTENTIONS ARE CRIMINAL, THE TRUE PEOPLE WHO BENEFIT FROM HER ACTIVITIES ARE THOSE WHO WAS IN A SIMILAR SPOT TO HER. THIS WOMAN IS NEVER WHAT SHE SEEMS TO ANYONE. / I AM OPEN TO HER BRIEFLY WORKING WITH THE AVENGERS BUT I DON'T THINK IT WOULD END THE WAY IT DOES IN THE FILMS/COMICS.

PAMELA ISLEY, MOSTLY SIMILAR TO THE COMICS, THE ONLY DIFFERENCE IS THAT I WANT HER TO BE INSPIRED BY THE SNAKE IN EDEN. SHE IS THE GARDEN, BLOOMING BUT SHE IS ALSO THE SNAKE. SHE IS THE ONE WHO TEMPTS YOU TO DECEPTION, WHO WILL CHALLENGE YOUR MATERIAL ATTACHMENT TO THE WORLD AROUND.

SELINA KYLE, INSPIRED BY DANTES INFERNO : NINE CIRCLES, NINE LIVES, EACH IN RELATION TO THE SIN AND PUNISHMENT. EACH LIFE HAS AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT TIMELINE, EXAMPLES : 7TH VIOLENCE AGAINST SELF/DAISY JONES AND THE SIX , 8TH FRAUD/GOTHAM AND CATWOMAN AND 9TH TREACHERY/THE WALKING DEAD.

SIF, ORIGINAL LORE, COMIC AND MYTH ONLY. SISTER TO HEIMDALL AND SHARES HIS ALL SEEING POWER, SHE BASED PREDOMINATELY ANYONE BUT ASGARD. WAS ONCE MARRIED TO THOR, NOW SEPARATED. IS THE GODDESS OF WAR AND WATCHER OF THE NINE. SPENDS MORE TIME NOW HELPING LANDS RECOVER AFTER WARS.

SPENCER REID, SEASONS 1-9 ONLY. LILA/MAEVE ISN'T MY CANON, SORRY. PREDOMINATELY THE SAME AS SHOW CANON, PREVIOUS DRUG ADDICT, SOME VERSES IN WHICH HE IS STILL RECOVERING. WILL INFO DUMP ON YOU AT ANY GIVEN MOMENT. LOVES HIS MOM.

STEVE ROGERS, COMIC BASED. NGL I HAVEN'T WORKED OUT TOO MUCH WITH HIM. BUT HE'S JUST A BIT MORE ROUGH AROUND THE EDGES THAN YOU SEE IN MCU.

SUSAN 'SUZIE' GLASS, DAUGHTER OF BOBBY GLASS, ONE OF THIRTEEN MOB BOSSES THAT OPERATE THEIR OWN MARIJUANA RINGS IN THE UK, INCREDIBLY POWERFUL AND INFLUENTIAL. SUSIE IS CURRENTLY OVERSEEING THE OPERATION WHILST HER DAD SERVES TIME IN PRISON, IT'S NOT ONLY A CHANCE TO PROVE HERSELF BUT ALSO GROW HER BUSINESS AND CONTACTS. SHE'S INCREDIBLY WELL RESPECTED, CLEVER AND RESOURCEFUL. BUT WARNING, SHE CAN BE A THREAT AND SHE NEVER HAD TO GET HER OWN HANDS DIRTY.

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kitty22jr · 2 years

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The idea for JJ the relationship with a common child at the beginning of the series is an idea that brings problems, in series that run for a long time and where this is not the main theme they try not to connect young beautiful main characters with a serious relationship right away, this takes away the freedom of action in terms of romance from the script for them,this closes the characters from this line, and those relationships that they have are boring, because there is nothing special to show there or, in this case, the relationship with the eternally "sleepy" Will was boring and not working from begining they were not even saved by the fact that 90% of them simply did not show on the screen. It would be nice to include her pregnancy if needed, but keep the boyfriend for a few seasons, and then just find a reason to break up. Surely the authors knew that the fans wanted to see more JJ and Reid scenes and they always threw this bone, Will didn't change that in anyway, JJ and Reid's relationship has gotten closer from season to season since season 6 like they even made it a rule to have at least one hug per season, because they go on like this without a break, every season. As a result, the ship developed from season to season and became stronger, like the relationship between JJ and Reid, but someone forgot that you can’t leave her in other relationships, and even more so create even more problems making her marriage official.

An interesting situation was still at the time s 6 when, for some unknown reason, JJ was removed from the series, of course it was just "genious", not even surprising. A blonde girl with blue eyes took her place, apparently they thought that it didn’t matter if the type was the same, then in the first episodes there is a hint that Reid liked her, maybe it was supposed to try to make a couple of them, she is like JJ without a boyfriend and a child, that is, they themselves came to a dead end already in the 6th season in a pairing with Will because there was nothing to write about JJ's relationship, as expected and a girl needs to be found for Reid, so why not the one that replaces JJ, and in this case clear that there no a problem in the fact that they are colleagues, so this is not a problem for Reid and JJ, the problem they have is Will, then JJ was returned because, well, this girl could not replace her either at all, or in relations with Reid, they didn’t succeed, it just didn’t work. And in season 8, after JJ's wedding, Maeve appeared by the way, maybe after JJ's wedding, Reid wanted to get closer to Maeve.

JJ was brought back, but they even thought about how to remove Will, finally they thought in the right direction - he would die as a hero in season 7, but nothing happened instead, unfortunately, apparently in order for the season finale to be interesting, rating, a big event was needed , if not death, well, than the wedding. it made a quick wedding, completely unemotional, they just put on the rings to the music, ate and went home, what a couple such a wedding, but this impulsive the move will have consequences for the future of the series, some series are watched because of couples so many strive to have strong couples in the series, the relationship of couples can keep the viewer at the screen even if the plot itself is tired, they could earn more ratings if JJ was free and the shippers could feel free without the fact that she is married.

They led them to the way of romance, it happened anyway, but they forgot to release her from the relationship with Will, because it is logical that this should have been done in the first place.try to sit on two chairs. always jeid on the one hand and trying to create some kind of semblance of an ideal family life for JJ, because only the appearance, like a picture that JJ built and which she is sorry to leave, because it is a pity for time and energy. In this case, she will rather subconsciously wait for what then an excuse or a case, for example, Will himself will find out everything or Will himself will cheat on her.Will should not be on the show. Reid and JJ have reached the point in their relationship where they need to move on to the next stage, and because Will is there, they are deliberately kept static.

#jeid #reidxjj #will #jj jareau #reid

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drspencerweed · 2 years

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Dear Spence - Prologue

spencer reid x fem!reader

series masterlist

masterlist

fic summary: Going undercover as serial killer bait was simple. Going undercover as serial killer bait three months after being kidnapped was not so simple. Going undercover with the love of my life and having to pretend to be in love with him while also pretending I was pretending was….well it was about as complicated as it sounds.

chapter summary: Getting the assignment to go undercover pretending to be married to my best friend who I also happened to be in love with really threw a wrench in my coping mechanism of 'avoidance'.

Chapter Word Count: 3.9k

Content: Rated M (16+) fem!reader, mentions of past kidnapping, trauma responses, nightmares, descriptions of past kidnapping, canon-typical violence, fake relationship, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, only one bed trope

Notes: I imagine this fic taking place around season 10, however there is no mention of Maeve so it could also take place anywhere from season 5-8! If there are any tags I missed please let me know! I hope you're as excited to read as I am to be sharing this with you all.

read on ao3

Hotch didn’t mean to turn my world upside down in a single sentence. I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose, when he stood in the random meeting room of this local precinct and informed us of our assignment. Because there was no way he knew how much this assignment was going to hurt.

I fingered the piece of paper in my pocket nervously. The one that no one else knew was there. It had become a nervous habit, to run the pads of my fingers along its folded ridges. Going undercover wasn’t unfamiliar to me. I had a background in narcotics, and I had spent most of my formative years in the force undercover. I had never gone deep, mostly just one off sting operations. The longest assignment I’d ever done was a month long, no contact with anyone from the outside world. So, theoretically, this assignment from Hotch should have been easy-going, something I took on with grace and did to help the greater good.

That was only theoretically, of course.

In practice, it was the hardest assignment of my life. Being bait for a serial killer only three months after an....encounter with an unsub that was far too close for comfort. And that wasn’t even the main thing on my mind. The main thing was that I was going undercover with him. With Spencer. We were the closest to the age that the unsub targeted, and the “most believable couple” according to Hotch. Therefore, we were assigned to go under as a newlywed couple. Again, in theory, that didn’t sound so bad. A week or so pretending to be in love? I could do that in my sleep. Except for the fact that I was actually in love with him. In real life.

But he was also my best friend, and I would never risk that. He wasn’t in love with me. He was so not in love with me, in fact, that he routinely came to me to complain about his lack of a love life. Of course, I listened to and comforted him when all I wanted to do was grab him by the shoulders and scream, “I’m right here! I love you!”. So, I kept my feelings to myself and was a good friend. I set him up on dates; I was his wingman at bars. He was none the wiser to my aching heart, and I would like to keep it that way. He had made it plenty clear to me that he only wanted to be my friend.

When I first joined the BAU, I immediately took a liking to Spencer. He was the only one even near my age, first of all, and secondly he was endlessly endearing. We weren’t necessarily into the same nerdy stuff, I was more into Harry Potter than Doctor Who, but we bonded over our favorite things and tendency to ramble.

Once, I invited him to my apartment after a particularly rough case, and we watched movies all night. I thought I had been reading him correctly, and that there was something flirtatious underneath all our interactions. Surely, I had been flirting with him, or attempting to. So I thought why not make my move? I had the boy I liked on my couch, inches away from me, rambling about how exactly time travel could exist. I reached out to grab his hand, just to interlace our fingers, but I must’ve misread something, because he almost immediately pulled his hand back.

“I-I’m sorry- I don’t-” He started stuttering, and I flushed deep and dark as I realized my mistake. Quickly, I pretended I was just reaching over him for something on the coffee table, but we both knew what had happened. I gave him a quick smile and he stared down at his hand as if he had been burned.

“What were you saying about the quantum realm?” I asked innocently, hoping to get him back on topic so we could just pretend nothing had ever happened. It worked, and he started rambling again. We never talked about it, and I never made another move, never initiated any kind of physical contact between the two of us. I decided then that I would take my feelings to the grave.

Going undercover and pretending to be in love with him was decidedly not on the agenda.

Of course, Spencer seemed thrilled. His face had lit up when Hotch told us the news, and I had to follow suit. He gave me a big hug.

“One week just us!” He exclaimed, and I laughed as he let his arm rest around my shoulders.

“We’re still doing work, don’t forget.” I reminded him as Hotch gave both of us a disapproving look.

“Of course, of course. But we can’t exactly discuss the case when we know the unsub listens to his victims through smart devices. So we’ll have at least a week to mostly just...hang out.” Spencer explained. “When was the last time we got to do that?”

I pulled away just enough to look at him with a smile, and patted over his heart a few times. “It’ll be fun.” I said. He smiled so wide it almost split his face in two, and I tried to calm my beating heart.

“Reid brings up a good point, though. This hopefully won’t be any sort of deep cover, but because we know the unsub listens to his victims you will both need to behave as a couple 24/7. The only space that does not have a smart device in the house is the bedroom, so you can use that room to debrief and have some privacy.” Hotch explained. “Other than in the bedroom, you cannot slip out of your roles.”

The task was daunting. Even when I had been deep undercover, my apartment was always a safe space where I could be myself. All I would have as a reprieve now was the bedroom, and that didn’t seem like much of a reprieve. Spencer nodded in understanding, and then sent another smile my way.

“I think we’ll be okay.” He said. I nodded and tried not to reveal how scared I was to do this. How far would we take this cover?

“Okay. You move in tomorrow, so take tonight to come to an agreement on both of your comfort levels, and to review the stories assigned to you.” Hotch handed over a file to each of us. I opened mine to see my own face staring back at me, next to a list of false information that would become my identity. [Y/N] Wilson. We were able to keep our first names in order to reduce the possibility of us blowing our cover while just going about the day. By the time I got to the end of my file, Spencer had finished his and was looking at me expectantly.

A quick glance around the room let me know that we were now completely alone. Spencer cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. “So, Hotch mentioned our levels of comfort...”

“Right, right. Well at least we’ll have privacy in the bedroom. No newlywed couple isn’t jumping each other's bones.” I laughed. Spencer flushed and chuckled uncomfortably.

Of all the things we talked about, our deepest fears, the cases that haunt us, all our favorite foods, we never once talked about sex. I didn’t even know if Spencer had sex. And frankly, I’d appreciate it if it stayed that way. It was bad enough to hear him complain about being lonely, but to hear about his latest escapades would be too much. I never brought it up anyway, because I certainly was not having sex. Since falling in love with my best friend I found it impossible to be that vulnerable with someone I knew I had no future with.

“Yea, thank god we won’t have to pretend to, uhm. To do that.” He finally said. I giggled nervously and nodded. “But we will probably have to kiss, at least. Is that okay?”

He asked it with such care, such compassion, and I knew he didn’t want to make me uncomfortable. I bit down on my bottom lip as my thoughts raced. All I wanted was to kiss him. Sometimes the feeling of desire was overwhelming. How could I handle all my dreams coming true if they were fake?

I swiped a hand over my face to try and clear my head. There was no room for that kind of thinking. This was my job, I would have to handle it. Meeting his slightly confused eyes, I realized I had left him hanging for a minute too long.

“Yes! Yes, of course. I mean, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?” I said, and then immediately started panicking, a flush climbing up my neck towards my cheeks. I looked anywhere but at him. “I-I just mean-”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Spencer reassured. I looked at him and he gave me a small smile. I nodded and averted my eyes again. “But, uhm. We should probably, you know. Uhm.” He stuttered, and I watched him carefully, confused. He cleared his throat and wrung his hands together. “We should probably practice.” His eyes darted between mine and the floor.

My eyebrows nearly hit my hairline as I realized what he was suggesting, but I knew he was right. If we had our first kiss anywhere the unsub could see, it would be nearly impossible to act as if it were not our first. His nervousness betrayed how much he didn’t want to do this. How much he dreaded this kind of contact with me. He was doing this for our job, and I would have to as well.

“Right, right, of course. Don’t want our kisses blowing our cover.” I laughed, then ran a trembling hand through my hair. “So, uhm.” I took a hesitant step towards him.

“Oh! Now? Yes, that would make sense.” He said, almost to himself. I swallowed around the fact that he probably wanted to postpone this for as long as possible. It was going to be far worse for him than it was for me. I was living out one of my greatest fantasies, while this was probably one of his worst nightmares. He took a step toward me, and he was suddenly so close I had to tilt my head to catch his eye.

Our eyes met and I searched his for any trace of discomfort, as he seemed to do the same for me. I bit down on my bottom lip out of nerves as we stood there in silence. His hand came up and brushed my hair behind my ear, and I let out a small gasp. He had never touched me so delicately before. Then his hand came to cup my cheek, and his thumb ran against it. I fought the urge to nestle into his soft hand, maintaining eye contact with him as he leaned closer to me.

I let my eyes drift shut in the final seconds as he guided my lips to his. My heart rate was so fast I was surprised he couldn’t hear it pounding out of my chest. The moment our lips touched, I nearly collapsed. His soft, plush lips caught my bottom lip between them, and we stood there pressed together for what felt like ages. I brought my hands around his neck and pulled him into me, a surge of confidence as I lost myself in this fantasy. Spencer Reid kissing me.

I wondered who he was pretending to kiss right now.

The thought brought reality crashing down around me. I pulled back from him with a gasp, and watched as his eyes fluttered open as he realized I was pulling away for good. I was panting, as was he, and I started to blush as I realized I may have taken the kiss further than was expected. Spencer seemed out of sorts, staring at my lips and not moving his hands.

“Maybe just one more?” He asked quietly. I could barely believe it. For a second, it felt like he actually wanted me. Like this wasn’t just for our job. It felt like I was living in a fantasy, where when I pulled away from him he could never resist another kiss. I couldn’t deny myself that.

I had barely nodded when he pulled me in again, this time with more force. My hands held him closer by the jaw, and his tongue peaked out to brush my lips. I granted him access and our tongues slid together, dancing. My hands slid down to his neck, holding him close as our lips parted and reconnected, tongues lost together. His hands fell to my waist and caressed me while they wrapped as far around me as he could reach. His lips left mine only to trail across my jaw and down my neck, forcing me to resist the urge to let out a very unprofessional moan. I gripped his hair and brought his lips back to mine, kissing him feverishly. Fully lost in him, I didn’t notice the door opening until someone cleared their throat.

Spencer and I jumped apart, putting a harsh amount of distance between us to contrast how desperately close we had been. Morgan was standing there with a smirk on his face. “Hotch filled me in, Pretty Boy is coming with me to work out his wardrobe for the week.” He informed, the smirk not leaving his lips.

Spencer coughed into his hand. “We were just, uhm. Practicing.” He explained sheepishly. My face burned as my eyes pricked. He sounded embarrassed. Embarrassed to be kissing me.

“Of course.” Morgan said sarcastically. Did he know something? I thought I had been so careful, but his teasing tone made me think he knew about my feelings for Spencer. I swallowed tightly and stayed silent. Playing with my fingers, I avoided eye contact with either of them. I didn’t want them profiling how upset I was by everything that was going on.

Spencer coughed into his fist and then turned to me. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Wilson?” He said with a soft smile.

“Bright and early, Mr. Wilson.” Thank god my voice stayed steady. I couldn’t help but return his grin, and he gave me a small wave as he left the room with Morgan.

As soon as he turned the corner I broke down in tears at the conference room table, overwhelmed at the feeling of not being enough. Everything I’d ever wanted was in the palm of my hand, I just couldn’t close my fingers around it.

“Hey [Y/N], Hotch sent me to-” I looked up to Emily who had spoken as she entered the room, but cut herself off when she saw the state of me. She immediately dropped into the seat next to me and grabbed my hand. Other than Spencer, she was my closest friend on the team. I sniffled and tried to gather myself but there was no use.

“What did Hotch send you for?” I asked weakly.

“No, no. You are going to tell me what’s going on. And then we’ll get to everything else.” She demanded, squeezing my hand.

She stared into my eyes for a moment as I contemplated the consequences of speaking my feelings out loud for the first time. Her eyebrows raised slightly and I felt my eyes well up again at her compassion. Everything came pouring out of me, and she let me speak as I explained my one failed attempt at making a move, the intimacy of our first kiss, the pain of remembering it was all a facade.

“Are you sure you’re up for this mission?” She asked me seriously, seeing just how worked up this situation was making me.

“I have to be.” I said shakily. Emily tilted her head.

“You know it’s okay if you’re not. I know that everything with Spencer is making this harder, but with everything you’ve gone through-”

“No, I don’t want to talk about that.” I protested quickly, knowing what she was alluding to.

“[Y/N]. Being kidnapped is not a small thing. It’s okay if you don’t want to risk going through that again.” Emily said seriously. I shook my head and stared at my twisting fingers.

“It was months ago. I’m fine. I was barely kidnapped, he only had me for a few hours and-”

“Do not try to diminish what you went through to me. I know how hard it is to process something like that. And it makes sense that this situation would be difficult for you.” Emily reached out and grabbed my trembling hand. “I’m sure Spencer wouldn’t care either.” I looked in her eyes and pursed my lips.

“I can do this.” I said with resolve. “It’ll be hard, but I can.” Emily nodded and knew I wouldn’t be talked out of it.

“We’re gonna get you through this.” She squeezed my hand tightly, and gave me a small smile. “And, if Spencer breaks your heart, we’re going to have the best girls night you’ve ever had. And then we’re going to get you laid.” Emily said and I let out a laugh.

“What do you mean ‘if?’ I’m guaranteed to have a broken heart at the end of this.”

“You never know.” Emily raised her eyebrows playfully. I rolled my eyes.

“Please enlighten me.”

“A week of kissing you and pretending to be your husband? Could awaken something in him.” She teased. I shoved her away from me and stood up from the table, pressing my palms into my eyes to try and reduce the swelling.

“I doubt it. Now what did Hotch send you in here for?”

“I’m supposed to help you pack. Let’s go.”

~~~~

We rolled up to the house in the car we had been issued, a red sedan. Spencer was grinning from ear to ear, and I couldn’t stop stealing glances at him. His ease at the situation simultaneously made me more nervous and calmed me down. More nervous, because there was no way he would be so okay with this if he had any sort of feelings for me. But it calmed me down because when he was happy, I was happy. And he seemed so excited about the week we would have.

“I’ve been waiting to show you the tenth doctor because I know you’re going to love him, and I wanted to make sure you had enough time to appreciate him! And now you will!” He explained, already planning our binge watching.

“It does sound nice to just watch TV for a week.” I admitted. He grinned at me as he put the car in park in the driveway.

“Before we go in, let’s go over our stories one more time.” He said, turning to face me completely. I nodded.

“We’re Mr. and Mrs. Wilson. We got married last week, and both of us took off the next two weeks for our stay-at-home honeymoon.” I restated what I had read what felt like hundreds of times since being given the assignment the day before. Spencer obviously had it all memorized after one read through, but it took me a little more than that.

“You’re an accountant at a law firm, and I’m a lawyer. We met on the job.” Spencer said.

“We’ve been together for three years, engaged for one. Are there any other relevant details?” I asked. There was a lot more in the files, but I thought the basics we had set out were the most important things. And although it was unlikely that the unsub was already stalking us, on the off chance that he was, sitting in the car in the driveway for too long may look suspicious.

“We are overwhelmingly in love.” Spencer said. Of course. The unsub was targeting couples that were so happy it made him jealous. So we had to be the picture perfect couple, not only to attract him but also to pass as newlyweds. It would be the easiest and hardest part of the assignment. Spencer smiled at me once more, and I returned it. He must have sensed my nerves, because he reached out and took my hand in his. “We got this.”

“I know.” I answered, nodding, putting on a facade. I slipped into the mindset I would have to adopt for the next week. Spencer was mine, I was his, and we were in love. “Let’s do this.”

We got out of the car, and as soon as I was on the side Spencer was on, he grabbed my hand and interlaced our fingers. I smiled up at him.

Right before we got in the house, Spencer pulled me in by the grip he had on my hand. I was pressed right against his chest, and he brought our lips together in a soft kiss. Melting into it, I had to try very hard to not reveal how shocked I was by his actions. Obviously we were going to kiss this week, but I didn’t expect it so soon. My lips spread into a smile against his, and then he pulled back. He brushed a hand through my hair and looked at me with such love in his eyes I was almost convinced it was real. Who knew Spencer Reid was such a good actor?

“I believe I’m meant to carry you over the threshold, Mrs. Wilson.” He said, and then immediately gathered me into his arms, bridal style. I yelped as I was lifted off the ground.

“Spencer!” I laughed, and he just chuckled back at me.

“Open the door,” He ordered, nodding his head towards the door. I took one of my hands from around his neck, and pushed the front door of the house open. True to his word, he carried me over the threshold of our home and then set me down in the foyer. I thought he would let me go after that, but his hands stayed on my waist and pulled me in for another soul crushing kiss.

My arms wrapped around his neck as his wrapped around my waist. I raised up on my toes to press even closer to him, taking everything he was willing to give me. When he pulled back from me, I couldn’t help but stare into his eyes while my hands raked through his hair. I smiled at him, and he smiled back, and then pulled me in for a final soft kiss.

“I love you.” He whispered. My heart lurched at the sincerity in his tone, and the way his eyes traced my face. I let myself smile and play into it, as if my heart wasn’t breaking in my chest.

“I love you too.” I answered like it was the easiest thing in the world. His face could have split in half with how hard he smiled, and then he grabbed my hand and pulled me directly into the bedroom while I laughed.

He slammed the door behind us, and then let go of my hand quickly. He looked at the ground and scratched the back of his neck. I took a step away from him and turned towards the bed.

My heart sank to the floor. How had I not considered this? Not prepared for this? The bed. Singular. The one bed.

[Night 1]

<<<<>>>>>

thank you so much for reading! all likes and reblogs are appreciated.

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#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid multi fic #spencer reid angst #fake relationship au #undercover married #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fan fiction #spencer reid x you #my fic #my writing #dear spence

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leahblackk · 3 years

Note

Hello so for Halloween angst i had two ideas

1. Y/n and spencer have been besties forever and he gets a girlfriend and then the story tells how y/n suffered and then he is getting married and the rest is up to you! (happy ending hopefully)

2. Y/n and Spencer are having an affair bc he's married to Maeve and it's very angsty

Hello! No one of these has happy endings so I gave the second a twist. I would never let Spencer cheat on my girl Maeve.

Warnings: Mentions of affair but nothing actually happened. Please don’t see Maeve as the bad one here, she’s just so amazing.

As Halloween came to the door, Y/n was excited to celebrate with her boyfriend, Spencer Reid. Both of them were fans of the spookiness and the cold breeze of October.

She walked through the streets of DC while a coat held her trying to prevent the cold from freezing her bones, and then she saw a little store of sweets. Y/n excitedly entered the shop sounding the little bell above her head and made her way through the store to then to her apartment.

She softly entered thinking that it only was her. She left her coat and shoes and walked around with her mismatched socks up to her room to eat her sweets and watch some spooky movies, but he heard Spencer talking.

“Yeah, I’m glad we can talk,” he spoke moving around. Y/n stopped from opening the door and coming in and stood up outside with a smile hearing her boyfriends voice, “Oh yeah, I just came in actually,” he spoke again.

She wondered who was the other person in the other line, “No, she’s not here apparently,” he said, and Y/n frowned and Spencer chuckled, “Yeah Maeve, but is a shame we can’t meet.”

She stood frozen. Maeve? Who was Maeve?

Y/n finally open the door and Spencer looked at her with a smile with his phone still on his ear, “I’ll call you later, bye,” he said and put the phone down looking at his girlfriend. She looked gorgeous, “Hi angel,” he greeted.

Y/n didn’t know how to react. She didn’t want to make a scene about it, after all, she didn’t know who Maeve was. But, it hurt her just to think Spencer could fall for someone else. She knew he wasn’t capable of cheating, he just wasn’t like that. But the wonder still remains.

“Hi,” she said with a small smile stepping in and sitting in the bed with the bag.

“What’s that?” Spencer asked trying to make more conversation as he saw his girlfriend weirdly. There was something about it that wasn’t right with her, but he couldn’t figure out what just know.

“Some sweets. I didn’t know you were here so I planned on watching some movies and eating them,” she spoke, her voice almost a whisper looking at her hands as she feared her voice would break.

“What’s wrong, angel?” Spencer asked as he heard her. Getting closer to her, but she didn’t let him, standing up.

“N-nothing. Don’t worry, I’m just really tired. Did you eat anything?” She softly asked looking up at him looking at his concerned eyes.

“Yeah, I did. We all ate after the case. Why? Are you hungry? I can make you something or we can order some take-out, your favourite food,” he asked trying to take care of her. To ease her worries. But that didn’t work.

“No, it’s okay. I’m not hungry, I just wonder. So I have some work to do so I’ll be out there if you need anything. Y-you should rest,” Y/n was out of the room before she heard Spencer’s response and went to the small balcony they had, closing the door and locking it. She turned around while the wind violently moved her hair and left her tears out, looking back from time to time to see if Spencer wasn’t there looking at her.

…

Spencer wonder what happened for her to act so distant, so worried and the pain in her eyes it really broke him. Was it him? Or something happened when he was away? Or maybe she was falling out of love?

He didn’t know but either way, he was really worried. He needed to talk to her.

Spencer walked to the balcony, where he knew she was, she always work there or when she’s upset. He tried to open the door but then realized it was locked and there it was the confirmation to his doubts; Y/n was definitely upset.

Spencer knocked on the glassed door waiting for her to open it and hopefully she would hear the knocking and she did. She hugged herself while she opened the door, and Spencer felt the cold air when it touched his skin, “Y/n are you out there with this cold and without a cardigan or coat? You’re gonna get sick,” he said taking her arm and letting her step inside. She didn’t say anything, she just gave him her back.

Spencer closed the door and looked at her. He walked to her putting his hands on her cold arms and caressing them, “What’s wrong, angel?” He asked once more, but there was no response.

He put one hand on her waist turning her around, and he saw the tears falling down her cheeks, “Angel,” he whispered voice full of pain to see her in such a state, “What’s wrong? Please please talk to me. I wanna help you,” he pleaded, hugging her, but she didn’t hugged him back. Spencer had to ask now, the question that haunted him, “I wanna know. Did something happen when I was away? A-are you? Um, don’t you love me anymore?” He asked, voice breaking in the process.

She looked up at him with confusion, “What?”

“Yes, you’ve been acting weird since I came home. You didn’t let me touch you or get close to you and it worries me,” he said looking at her trying to read her.

“Spencer if you want to break up with me do it know, seriously. I can’t with this anymore,” now Spencer was confused.

“Why would I break up with you?” Y/n looked down and didn’t say anything, “Angel please talk to me.”

“I-I just,” she sighed, “I don’t want to be jealous or possessive or anything at all, but I’m just worried and when I came home I heard you talking with someone, M-Maeve. And you said it was a shame you couldn’t meet, and that got me thinking that maybe you are the one who fell out of love. And believe me, I-i don’t judge you at all, I just wished you could’ve told me sooner, and if Maeve makes you happy then I’m happy for you,” Spencer’s heart broke.

He couldn’t shake his head fast enough, “No, angel no,” he said trying to make her look at him, “I would never fell out of love with you, in fact, my love for you grows every day with everything of you and I would never want anyone else, let alone cheat on you. Maeve is a doctor, she’s my friend and she had helped me with my migraines and I wanted you to meet her but things are complicated with her right now, and I really appreciate her but, she’s not you,” Spencer spoke. She didn’t look at him, she was ashamed. “look at me, please,” she didn’t follow so Spencer grabbed her face with both hands and put their forehead together, kissing her cheek, “I would never fall out of love with you, angel. No one compares to you, I’m so in love with you, you have me wrapped around your finger and if you want to see me happy as you said before just look at me,” Y/n did, Spencer caressed her cheek giving her a quick pick on the lips, “There she is. The prettiest girl in the world,” he kissed her cheeks and then her lips, taking his time, “My pretty girl,” he repeated between kisses.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions,” she whispered. Spencer shook his head.

“You actually acted very maturely. I would’ve begged you not to leave me if I ever heard you talking like that with someone else,” she shook her head.

“I love you,” she spoke.

“Hm, you love me?” She nodded, “Guess what? I love you so much more. More than anything, you know that right?”

“Yes.”

“Good. But I will keep reminding you for the rest of my life if that’s okay with you.”

“Only if you let me do that too.”

“It would be an honour,” he said kissing her while they smiled in the middle of the kiss.

#angst halloween #spencer reid #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #doctor reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer angst

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spacedikut · 4 years

Text

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #oh to be spencer reid's neighbour that he falls completely in love with during the lockdown

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sixofpomegranates · 3 years

Text

Rain in California - Act 1 - California

🥀Mini Series “Rain in California” Act 1 - Part 1 - California🥀

✨My Main Masterlist✨ | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad

🥀Soundtrack🥀 | ✨Aestethic Trailer✨ | 🥀Masterlist🥀 | Words: 9.4k

A/N: The music used in this story is not owned by me (obviously) & I used it in the same style that 'Rock of ages' and 'Mamma Mia' used songs. I gave them a different meaning and context. The meaning and context are NOT representing the one that the ORIGINAL ARTIST had.

TW: ANGST, mention of loss/death/addiction/sobriety/murder, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, addiction, substance abuse, drugs, alcohol, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, stalking, death by overdose, mentions of OD, passive aggressiveness, arguing,

Songs in this Chapter: La di die – Nessa Berrett Going to Hell | My Medicine | Heaven Knows – The Pretty Reckless

“Spence?”

Spencer looked up from his book.

Oh, so now he was allowed to talk with them about the case.

Since the briefing they hadn’t talked to him about anything. Spencer had to beg them, to let him work on this case.

He had really felt left out and why?

Because the stalking victim was a famous Rockstar with addiction issues. Spencer was hurt about his team not wanting him to be on the case because of this. Yes, he had struggled with addiction in the past, but he had been clean for over ten years now.

Was this unfair treatment…this distrust in his sobriety, ever going to stop?

It wasn’t like they had cared much about it when Emily had faked her death or when Maeve died, but this, for them, looked like a too high risk? Because there was a pretty girl involved?

He tried his best not to sound passive aggressive when responding.

“Yeah, JJ?”, with success.

“I asked if everything´s okay.”

“Sure. Why should anything be wrong?”, the blonde shrugged a little, an apologetic look on her face.

“Well the case-“ “It´s just a stalking case. Nothing we haven’t already seen. I actually wonder why we even need to come. The stalker isn’t aggressive and hasn´t hurt anybody. Right now he´s just importunate. The police should be able to catch this unsub themselves.”, he had accidently let a little of his passive aggressiveness slip and Emily, who was sitting next to JJ, looked at him.

“The record label convinced the police to contact us. They seem worried about their artist.”

“From what I know…this girl can take care of herself.”, Luke snickered, earning himself a ‘Come on, really?’-look from Emily. “Sorry, but have you seen or listened to her music? She could probably beat Reid in a fist fight.”

“Just because she´s making rock music, doesn’t mean she´s tough. But we should talk a little about the case, Reid if you ever feel unco-“, he quickly interrupted her with a snappy tone.

“Why, because she´s an addict? I don’t care about that.”, Emily lifted her hands in a calming manner.

“Okay, jeez. Just the way you´re on edge, since the briefing, doesn’t look like you are okay.”, Spencer took a deep breath, trying to talk calmer this time, now almost pleading in tone.

“I-I know. But I´m clean since was twenty-six. I never touched anything again and I don’t feel the need to. I even regulate my alcohol intake, never drinking more than a beer, maybe two glasses of whiskey. Which means, that statistically all of you are at a higher risk, of becoming addicted, during this case, then I am. You guys need to trust me.”, the dark haired woman sighed and nodded.

“You´re right. I´m- We´re just worried. You´re our friend, Spencer.”, she handed him a file. “Just promise me you talk to one of us, if something changes.”

He nodded opening the file. A picture of [y/n] looked at him. Dark heavy make-up, dark clothing and jet black hair with colorful streaks.

His younger self would´ve been as attracted as terrified of her.

He flipped through the pages. [y/n] [y/l/n]. Twenty-six years old. Stalker since approximately two years. Nothing extremely outstanding for a stalking case…which was kinda outstanding. No letters, no calls, no pictures, no break in, no threats…sometimes she would get random, expensive present delivered to her mansion, but that was it. Given that she was famous, this presents did not even have to be from a stalker.

“Are we sure there´s even is a stalker?”, Spencer frowned at his own question, Emily shrugged as a response.

“According to the manager, Philip Schuyler, since the first time she played his concerns down, he gets these calls of a man asking for [y/n] and how she is doing. The label didn’t take it serious after he told them, but then the unsub stole the last finished album from [y/n]´s band ‘Shot Monarch’, before it could get released and distributed, also erasing every digitally existing copy. He then called the manager and send the owner of the record label a letter; typed on a computer, no fingerprints; stating that he wanted to be taken serious. Later [y/n] got the USB, containing all her songs, with a dozen white lilies, her favorite, back per mail with an apology letter; stating that she had done nothing wrong and didn’t need to worry, since he could never harm her or her carrier. That´s when the label pushed the police to contact us.”

“Because they are worried about the music…not the woman.”, JJ sighed, shaking her head.

“Well, that´s the industry. At least her manager is worried. Police states that he got himself a gun license after that and tries to be everywhere [y/n] is.”, Luke added.

“Something about that is off.”, Spencer whispered, rubbing his stubbles, before looking at JJ, Emily and Luke again. “There is nothing that indicates a stalker, but every time somebody doubts his existence, he does something noticeable. I know she is famous and that comes with the stigma of having crazed fans as stalkers, but most stalking in general is committed by someone known to the victim, such as an ex-partner or acquaintance. We should check that out.”, JJ nodded.

“It would also be smart if one of us stays by her site.”, Luke quickly raised his hand.

“I volunteer. I- Like- Really! If necessary I´ll sleep in the SUV.”, Emily raised an eyebrow.

“Can it be that you´re a fan? I heard you and Penelope freak out a little over the case earlier.”, a shy smirk appeared on his lips.

“‘Shot Monarch’ has really good music. Since my road trip a year ago, I love their stuff. Penelope actually tol-”, Spencer interrupted him determined.

“I´ll do it.”, Emily quickly shook her head.

“Reid, no.” “Why not?”, his voice got high, making him quickly cleared his throat. “Because-“ “Because she is taking drugs. Do you trust me that little, Emily?”, Spencer snapped at her and she leaned back into her seat. Sure the others from the team were older than him, but he was in his late thirties, and yet was treated like a child.

“Fine. If you think you can handle it, do it. But stop being so sassy, I hate that.”, Emily looked at look in defeat. “Luke tell him what you know about [y/n] and the band.”, he nodded pulling out his phone.

“Okay so, [y/n] is the lead singer of ‘Shot Monarch’. She´s from a small town in Ohio and came to LA when she was eighteen, to become a singer after going viral. They are a band since five years, the name never really got explained by them, but it has something to do with the butterfly; at least that’s a fan theory I now from Penelope. Plus it makes sense, because [y/n] has a tattoo of one on the back of her hand.”, Luke flipped through some pictures of older man, reminding Spencer of bikers and insurance agents at the same time. Like middle-aged fathers that liked rock but still had a nine-to-five job.

“Hank, the guitarist, was a lawyer before and in a cover band with his high school friends Tom, the bassist, who worked for an insurance company, and Leroy, the drummer, who was history teacher and is also married to Hank. They met [y/n] at an open mic night and even though she´s twenty-six and they are in their late forties, early fifties, they got along so well, that they became a band. That´s ‘Going to Hell’ by the way. One of the more controversial songs.”, Luke pressed play on the video and already moved the lips to the lyrics.

“Father did you miss me,

Been locked up a while.

I got caught for what I did but took it all in style.

Laid to rest all my confessions I gave way back when.

Now I'm versed in so much worse,

So I am back again, and he said

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I make, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

“The guitar you´re hearing is a classic Hank. That guy knows what he´s doing.”, Luke added, seemingly in his element, reminding Spencer a lot of Garcia when she was excited.

Spencer nodded and watched the music video, the overall theme was dark and heavy. [y/n] voice was nice, a little smoky and strong, but everything just sounded so angry. Not really his style, although he preferred older, classical music in general over the ‘normal’ things ‘normal’ people liked. [y/n] wore tightfitting latex, while the men from her band mostly just wore black jeans and shirts, sometimes leather jackets. At one time, she was surrounded by snakes, only wearing white lingerie. She was really pretty, red lipstick making her look like a biting version of Snow White. Like a princess that would rather save herself, becoming the villain along the way, before letting someone else save her.

“Father did you miss me,

Don't ask me where I've been.

You know I know, yes, I've been told I redefine a sin.

I don't know what's driving me to put this in my head.

Maybe I wish I could die, maybe I am dead!

And he said

For the lives that I fake, I'm going to hell!

For the vows that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the ways that I hurt, when I'm hiking up my skirt.

I am sitting on a throne while they're buried in the dirt.

For the man that I hate, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

The lyrics and symbolistic in the video mocked parts of the Christian belief system. Such as the bite Eve had taken from the apple, showing [y/n] taking a bite from the forbitten fruit. The last supper and the crucifixion were shown with a dark twist too. This could be a hint of rebellion, to cope with religious trauma, or simply be a way to cause controversy.

“Please forgive me father,

I didn't mean to bother you.

The devil's in me father.

He's inside of everything I do.

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the laws that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I hate, I'm going to hell!

For the lies that I make, I'm going to hell!

For the way I condescend and never lend a hand.

My arrogance is making this head buried in the sand.

For the souls I forsake, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' married to the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

As the video ended Luke took his phone and put it back into his pocket.

“Their earlier stuff had a little more emotion to it, was about heartbreak, suffering and made you feel. This is one of the more recent ones and you can hear that it´s now mostly just stuff like sex, drugs and anger. Most people think that´s because [y/n] writes all of their music and she´s…seen better days…”, Luke sighed, trying to make it sound as polite as possible.

“Because she started taking drugs?”, Spencer raised his eyebrows, but Luke shook his head. “Oh, no. She, according to many rumors and an interview with her father, has taken drugs since she was a teen. But at this point…she just simply seems to have given up, having chosen to not go deeper with her songs anymore. I mean, they still slap. They just don’t slap your heart anymore, you know?”

“Not so nice, when your father talks to the press about your addiction. Could her father be a suspect?”, JJ asked, making Luke shrug and shake his head at the same time.

“Most likely not. He said in that interview that he wishes her the best, but doesn’t want to speak to her again.”, Emily mouthed a silent ‘ouch’, the whole talk about the rockstars private life making Spencer think.

“Maybe that´s part why she´s taking drugs? Often people use them to cope with-“, Emily interrupted him, profiling [y/n] and her substance abuse, quickly.

“Reid. We´re not going there to fix her, just the stalking situation.”, he nodded, knowing that he had a savior complex, always trying to help and save everybody.

“Exes?”, Spencer asked and Luke shook his head.

“Just one is known, Dean Lennox, singer, now married with kids. He and [y/n] were together for two years and according to him it was toxic. Like, always fighting, jealousy, distrust, fear of being left but she still didn’t want him close at the same time, lying. After their last breakup, he told a gossip magazine, he just couldn’t watch her destroy herself anymore. She never commented on it.”, JJ looked at Spencer worried.

“She seems like a handful, are you sure you can handle her alone?”, he chuckled while nodding.

“I´ve been through worse. How hard can it be to watch a twenty-six year old? When she, like Luke said, really doesn’t want anyone close, I´ll just sit on her couch and let her do her thing.”

*****

After landing in Los Angeles and checking into their hotel, the team drove to police station. There already waited a massage for them with an address. It was from the manager, he wrote that he was terribly sorry, but they needed to come to the recording studio, since the band was on a tight schedule all morning. Luke had tried his best, but Spencer could see his excitement through his tough-guy-façade. He, JJ, Luke and Emily took one of the SUV´s and drove to the address.

The building they entered was large and with great security. Expensive, white marble flooring in the entire entrance hall. They showed their batches to the lady at the front desk and the security, she called somebody and soon a short, pudgy man, dressed in a designer suit walked out of the elevator and up to them. He smiled at them friendly and shook everyone’s hand.

“Ah, the agents. I am so glad that you´re here. Hi. Hello. I´m Philip Schuyler, the manager of ‘Shot Monarch’.”, Emily shook his hand and pointed at the team.

“Nice to meet you. I´m unit chief SSA Prentiss, those are SSA Jareau, Alvez and that´s Dr. Spencer Reid. He will take on the job as bodyguard for Miss [y/l/n].”, the man scratched his brown hair, avoiding the bald spot on top.

“Yes, uhm, please just call her [y/n]. She really dislikes being called Miss [y/l/n]. We also already have police and security around her house, so I don’t know how important a personal bodyguard is. I really want this case solved and it would be terrible if we would hinder your work.”, Spencer lifted a finger.

“Actually, it would be better if I´m able to stay close to [y/n]. Normal police and security could probably oversee minor details about the stalker, Mr. Schuyler.”, the man waved off.

“Please, Mr. Schuyler was my father. Philip is completely fine. Everybody calls me that.”, he started walking to the elevator and the agents followed him. “Right now the band´s having a little break. After that, we need to record one more song for the ‘live in the studio’-version of their new album, that just came out. Are you familiar with their music?”, they got into the elevator and Luke already nodded.

“Yeah. Really great. Big fan.”, Emily lifted her hand, silencing Luke.

“I´m sorry. If that´s a problem we can-“, Philip laughed, interrupting her.

“Oh, no, no. [y/n] will love that. She likes meeting fans and showing off her music.”

They got out of the elevator, walked through the little hallway and entered the large double door in front of them. There was the recording studio. A lot of technical things, Spencer didn’t know much of, and a large glass wall in front of it, showing another room.

The recording room was large, with a black leather couch and beanbags in it and nice, warm, wooden flooring. A drum set was placed on an vintage looking, red carpet and the overall lighting was warm and inviting as well. The door to the room was open and he could hear the three men, from the band, talking and laughing inside.

“Guys, can you come out for a bit?”, Philip asked them and they looked up, walking up to them. “Okay, uhm, guys, those are the agents from the FBI. You know? The once coming because of [y/n]´s stalker.”, the largest man, a head taller than Spencer, smiled through his long grey beard that contrasted his bald head.

“Nice to meet you then, I´m Hank. That my husband Leroy,”, they shook hands with the dark skinned, skinny man, who in contrast to his husband was cleanshaven, with short black hair and glasses, “and that´s our friend Tom.”, the chubby, white, blond waved at them friendly.

“Why would like to talk with each of you individually, later at the police station, if that is possible.”, Emily said before introducing her team again, also mentioning Spencer´s duty as bodyguard. Leroy grimaced his face.

“Uh, [y/n] will hate that. The girl does not like being babysat.” “I´m not going to babysit her.”, Spencer answered, making Leroy chuckle. “That´s not how she will see it though.”, Hank sighed and put a hand on Spencer´s shoulder.

“Our girl is going through a lot right now. So it would be nice of you, to not take everything she´s saying personally, okay?”

“Personally?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows. He desperately hoped [y/n] wouldn’t be a bitch the entire time, since he couldn’t promise to not give her a piece of his mind, if so.

“[y/n]´s a little belligerent…Easy to get triggered and then she blows up like a bomb.”, Tom said and JJ cocked her head. “Is the stalking getting at her?”, Leroy shook his head. “Not really. But her mother died a few months ago and since then…little rough patch. She´ll get better. We all hit rock bottom once.”

“Is she going to therapy?”, Emily asked straight forward, making Tom, the chubby one chuckle. “Not since she hit the last therapist a few years ago. We paid his medical expenses and he was nice enough to not sue her. But we are here to help her, once she´s ready to let us.” “Must be exhausting, for you.”, JJ said empathetic and all the men waved off.

“Because of the drugs? No, it´s not that bad. She´ll collect herself. I have seven kids. Four of them are going through puberty right now. Phil has a toddler and Leroy and Hank have three rescue dogs and a couple of snakes. We can handle her.”, Tom laughed and the rest of the men started too.

“And that little stalker…Imma just say, I´m gonna rip him a new one, should I ever get the chance of meeting him. Counts for all of us.”, Hank added with everyone nodding in agreement.

“[y/n]´s a really nice girl and she´s been through a lot. If you´re nice to her, chances are high she´ll warm up to you and you won´t have any problems.”, Tom said to Spencer making him nod.

“And if she doesn’t?”, the tall doctor didn’t get an answer and just witnessed the rockers share a look.

Nice girl. Drug issues not so bad. Be nice and maybe she´s nice to you. For Spencer all of that sounded like he would have to walk around on eggshells, while she would blast through walls like a wrecking ball. The manager, Philip, checked his watch and looked around.

“So, where´s [y/n]? One more song and we´re done. Would be great not to hold up the investigation for too long.”

“She went to the toilet thirty minutes ago. We just ate our sandwiches. She said she wasn’t hungry.”, Leroy answered and at the same moment [y/n] walked in.

Spencer looked at her and for a moment forgot how to breathe. Short, high waisted, leather skirt, low cut, tank top and biker boots, all black, rounded off with fishnet stockings. [y/n] looked like she had climbed out of a teenagers wet dream. The perfect, little goth-girlfriend. She stretched a little and Philip looked at her.

“Bonjour, Philly.”, she said with a sassy undertone, while walking up to him and leaning on his shoulder. He was the same high as her, which wasn’t really tall, about 5,4, if Spencer had to guess.

“Hey, where were you?”, the pudgy man asked her.

“Took a nap in my car.”, she booped his nose and gave him a sheepish little smile. Spencer knew she was high. In fact the whole room knew it.

“You drove here?”, Tom asked shocked and [y/n] grinned sarcastically.

“I guess so, else somebody explain to me why my car´s here.”, Phillip patted her shoulder, looking worried as she took four pills out of an orange pillbox from her bag. He gave her a glass of water and she swallowed them. The men from her band looked at her concerned, making her give them a pearly white smile.

“Headache.”, she explained and they only nodded. Spencer couldn’t help but think, that she wasn’t having a headache and even if she had, it was probably a withdrawal symptom.

“You know that I don’t want you to drive when you´re…”, her manager looked at the agents and stopped talking, making her look at them as well.

“What? Why´d you stop talking? That the fun police?”, she started giggling at her own joke, making the band chuckle, since she clearly didn’t know how accurate she was with her joke.

“That´s the FBI, Princess.”, Hank told her and she made a fake shocked face and then laughed again.

“Officer- No wait, agents, right? I swear I did nothing wrong. Weed´s legal in Cali.”

The team shared some looks and Spencer couldn’t help but roll his eyes. [y/n] was not just on weed. Most definitely not just on weed.

“They are here because of your stalker.”, Philip explained and she shrugged almost disappointed.

“Oh, that guy. Well, then hello. Nice to meet you. I´m [y/n].”

She shook hands with JJ and Emily as they introduced themselves. Luke couldn’t help but breathe in sharply, as he shook her hand and almost choked on his own spit as an aftereffect. She started patting his back with wide opened eyes.

“Shit, you okay? Asthma?”, [y/n] reached into her black, designer handbag and gave him a bottle with clear liquid. Luke took a sip, quickly grimaced his face and began coughing harder.

“Vodka.”, he stated through his coughing. [y/n] quickly took the bottle from him and took a sip too, without flinching. She then started cracking up at her mistake.

“Whoops. Mixed up the bottles, the other´s probably in my car. Philly, can you bring him…?”, Philip nodded and gave Luke a fresh water bottle from the mini fridge.

Wow. Vodka hidden in a water bottle. Spencer licked his lips, taking in the view of her bandmates looking at each other. ‘Not that bad’ looked different. ‘Not that bad’ would not have her sleeping in her car, midday, with a bottle of ‘water’ and coming back high as a kite. Luke, by now, had stopped coughing and [y/n] stepped away from him again.

“You good?”, she asked him, watching him wipe away his tears.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry.”, the black haired girl waved him off.

“Nah, don’t worry. I had asthma till I was twelve.”, he shook his head.

“I- I- No asthma. Just a really big fan.”, she started laughing again and although the light was dimmed, Reid could clearly see Luke´s cheeks turning red.

“Oh, that´s cute. But ‘Take My Breath Away’ is by Berlin.”, that sentence actually made the whole room laugh except for Spencer, who didn’t understand the reference. “What´s your name?”

“Luke Alvez.”, she shook his hand again, this time he didn’t almost choke.

“Well, nice to meet you, Luke. What´s your favorite song of ours?”

“25, no doubt. Really amazing. Like a James Bond song.”, the bandmates chuckled.

“We said that too.”, Leroy snickered, patting Luke´s shoulder and [y/n] nodded.

“It´s also my favorite. Excited to hear one of the new songs?”, Luke nodded excited and she turned her head to Spencer. “We both don’t know each other yet. Hi, I´m [y/n] and you are?”

She sounded quite collected. Clearly high, but able to think straight if necessary. [y/n] must´ve been doing this for a while now, seeming to have figured out, how much she could handle while working. Spencer had been at that point too once. You wanted to do your work and be good at it, but needed to be high, to make it through the day. So you just tried over a period of time, bit by bit, how much you were able to take before doing a shitty job. ‘Not that bad’ didn’t make you figuring out a system to be high all the time.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.”, he shook her hand.

“Dr. Reid will be your bodyguard, [y/n].”, Philip explained and quickly earned an angry look, as she let go of Spencer´s hand instantly.

“What? I don’t need a bodyguard, we talked about this.”, she hissed at her manager, but then started laughing after looking Spencer up and down. “And then that guy?”, Philip nodded as she rolled her eyes at him. ‘Do not take it personally’, Spencer told himself.

“I am more than capable of protecting you.”, he stated as friendly as possible, making her giggle.

“From what? A difficult math question?”

[y/n] mocking tone started to piss him off, but as Spencer felt Emily´s look on him, he played it cool. After all, he had to proof himself able to handle her.

“Your stalker.”, he corrected her and she licked her lips, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, looking at Luke.

“Since you don’t have asthma, would you mind if I…?”, Luke shook his head and she smiled. “Nice.”, she looked back at Spencer, at his gun. “Philip has a gun too.” “But Philip isn’t an FBI agent.”, Hank told her, making her shake her head in protest, like a little child.

“That´s ridiculous. And all of that just because a stranger sends me stuff, people send me stuff all the time.”

“You should be more worried about this guy.”, Leroy said and Tom nodded in agreement. “Yeah, what if he´s dangerous?”

“What´s the worst that could happen, like honestly, Doctor?”, she cocked her head at Spencer, looking up at him with an almost flirty smile.

“He could kill you.”, he gave back objectively, making the rockers obviously worried. “Geez. You make that sound like it´s a bad thing.”, she snickered and looked over to Luke. “Luke, wanna hear some music?”, he nodded.

“It would be an honor.”, his sentence made her giggle as she walked past him.

“You´re really cute.”

[y/n] walked into the recording room, Tom, Leroy and Hank following her. She put on her headphones and lit a cigarette, putting the package on the little table next to her mic. Philip closed the door and started pushing some buttons on the sound mixer in front of him. JJ whistled impressed.

“You do the technical stuff too?”, he nodded, chuckling.

“Since the stalking started, I try having as little people near [y/n] as possible. Thought it might just be a little crush from a weirdo and when he doesn’t get to see her, he gets over it.” “We need a list of the people that worked here though.”, Emily told him and he nodded.

“Of course.”, then he pushed a button and started talking into his microphone. “You guys, ready? Last song. ‘My Medicine’, then we can go home.”

They all approved of his words and started to playing. [y/n] relighting her cigarette and clearing her throat. Spencer couldn’t tell if that was her simply not caring or doing it for the feeling of the song. However, it seemed to fit the style.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

“I love this already.”, Luke whispered and JJ chuckled.

“You haven’t even heard anything yet.”, she snickered.

“Doesn’t matter, the feeling is there.”, he lifted his arms, showing her his goosebumps.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

And somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

Spencer watched [y/n] starting to move to the rhythm, swaying her hips and tapping her left foot to the beat, then looked to Philip pressing some buttons.

“She´s gonna be happy with that one.”, he whispered almost to himself and the next time Spencer looked at the band again, it almost felt like she was attentionally singing in his direction.

“Well I drink what you leak and I smoke what you sigh

See you cross the room with that look in your eye

Got a man to his left and a girl to his right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

She started moving her head in a way that made her long black hair fall in her face, framing her features almost delicately. While Spencer starred and earned some grins from [y/n], he could hear Luke whisper with Emily, who actually seemed to like the music too.

“There's a tiger in the room and a baby in the closet”

The room laughed and Spencer looked confused, having JJ tell him, that it was a movie reference. Sometime he felt like an alien, having such simple references fly over his head. Star Trek or Book references would´ve been easier for him…although he still didn’t know what that ‘Twilight’ book was Penelope and JJ talked about a couple of times. Or that other book all the women had talked about in their break….what was it called, ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’? They had told him it was a romance novel, so he just assumed it was like ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen.

“Pour another drink mom I don't even want it

Then I turn around and think I see someone that looks like you”

Philip pressed some buttons again, [y/n] now harmonizing with herself.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again again

And somebody mixed my medicine

Again, again, again

Again, again, again”

The music started to slow down again, just like [y/n] movements, making Luke whisper words in awe.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

Philip and the team applauded as [y/n] took her headphones off and the men put their instruments away.

“I´m happy with that.”, she said looking at Philip. “You, Philly?”

“Sounded great to me.”, he gave back, happy to answer.

“What about my new favorite fan. Luke?”, Luke quickly pushed Spencer aside to get to the microphone.

“Loved every second of it! Like- Amazing! Really!”, she giggled, throwing her head back and came through the door.

“What about my new guard dog?”, Spencer pointed at himself, not knowing if she was talking about him. “Of course you. So, what do you think, Doctor?”

“I- I don’t really know.”, she raised her eyebrows at his answer.

“Okay? Was it the drugs or just the music in general?”, he felt himself go pale. “Ah, okay. You´re prude, get it. I mean you already have that whole tutor-thing about you, so…Bach or Chopin?”

“Pardon?” “Which one? Or is it Mozart, or the deaf bitch, Beethoven?”, she grinned snarky.

[y/n] had a mocking tone in her voice, making Spencer feel embarrassed and like he was in school again, when the other kids in high school were making fun of him for not being cool enough. But he was too old to be bullied by a little junkie, who thought she was better than him.

“I´m surprised somebody like you would even know them.”, her smile vanished.

“Little bitch.”, she snapped at him, stepping closer as he cocked his eyebrows at her. Philip quickly walked between the two of them and smiled.

“So, what are we doing next? The albums done. Taken care of. [y/n] have you eaten something today? You wanna go out for dinner?”

“No, I haven’t and no, I don’t want to, when THAT is around.”, with ‘that’ she clearly meant Spencer.

“Now don’t be grumpy, Princess. You started it.”, Hank told her and she started to pout, shoulders relaxing.

“Wasn’t worth my time anyways.”, she murmured and Spencer felt himself getting proud. This was the first person, trying to bully him, he had stand a chance against.

“So, we´re gonna need you at the police station, if that´s okay?”, Emily asked Leroy, Hank and Tom, who nodded. “And Spencer, you should take [y/n] home and check out her house.” “Mansion.”, [y/n] corrected Emily. “I have a mansion. Worked too hard to have it being called a house.”, Emily only nodded, not letting herself get bothered by her words. Philip nodded, completely ignoring his clients snappiness too.

“I follow you in my car.”, he told Spencer. “[y/n] give Dr. Reid your keys, please.”, she shook her head indignant.

“No. That guy is not driving my car. I´ll drive.”, the whole band now started saying no.

“[y/n], you´re not driving.”, Tom ordered and Leroy nodded. “You´ll get an DUI so quick, it´s not even funny.”, Spencer lifted his hand, waiting for the key. “Oh, come on.”, she groaned, looking at her bandmates like her childish behavior would change their mind.

A nice sound. An annoying person, not getting what they want. Almost as beautiful as her [y/e/c] eyes, that actually were rather bloodshot, when Spencer thought about it.

“Should the police pull you over and see that you´re high, they´ll look through your car and I don’t think you want be taking in custody for drug possession, right?”, she handed him her keys and Spencer couldn’t help it and whispered “Thank you”, in the most mocking tone he was able to.

“Fucking cunt.”, she whispered back at him and he just chuckled.

“I´ve been called worse. So your little words don’t hurt me…sorry.”, she then grinned.

“Things like Spencer?”, [y/n] asked him, spitting his name like poison.

Spencer took a deep breath and watched her go out the door, telling himself to not answer her.

“Hey, kid.”, Spencer looked at Hank and he just lifted his thumb.

“You held yourself better than we thought you would.”, Leroy added, Emily looking at Spencer concerned.

“You sure you can handle her?”

He nodded, walking out the door and to the elevator which doors [y/n] was holding open for him.

“Hurry up, bitch boy! I wanna go home.”

*****

Of course the rich, spoiled brat drove an imported sportscar. When Spencer got in, he firstly had to push back the seat, not having enough room for his legs and then tried getting [y/n] to tell him where she lived.

“Try google, smart ass.”, was her answer and he sighed.

[y/n] then rolled down her window and grabbed a joint from her glove compartment. Spencer quickly leaned over and snatched it from her hand, making her whine as she tried getting it back.

“You´re such a bitch. Give me-“, he interrupted her whining.

“No. First tell me you´re address.”, she sat back into her seat.

“Fine. I´ll lead you there.”, [y/n] said, making grabbing motions with her hand and he handed her the joint back. She lit it and smoked out of the window.

Spencer knew he should have questioned why she gave up and let him win so easily. After ten minutes they weren’t at her mansion, they were at a McDonald´s.

“You´re fucking kidding me, right?”, he snapped at her and she began to giggle.

“You´re kina hot when you´re angry.”, her flirty grin and the way she bit her lip made him furious, because it was hot.

“What is wrong with you?”, Spencer almost yelled and she leaned back and pointed somewhere. “I´m hungry. Drive-Through. Over there.”

“No.” “Come on. Don’t be a bitch, dog.”, she snickered, resting her feet on the dashboard.

He looked at her, for a second thinking about simply getting out of the car and leaving, before he could hurt her. Maybe she was really too much for him to handle, the drugs were manageable, but it was her personality that drove him mad, yet he wasn’t someone to give up easily. Cars started to honk behind them.

“You´re holding up the traffic. I just wanted something to eat.”, [y/n] said, now almost annoyed because she wasn’t getting what she wanted. Spencer took a deep breath.

“Okay.”, she looked at him confused.

“Okay?”, he nodded, pulling into the Drive-Through. He was above this. ‘Give her what she wants, so she´s at least quiet.’

“You win.”

She started clapping and hugged him, smelling like marijuana and something he couldn’t quite make out. When they came up to the microphone box, [y/n] crawled over Spencer´s lap, forcing him to look and think respectfully. She ordering a bunch of stuff and then looked at him.

“What do you want? I only have booze at home, so…”, he looked at her a little startled. Was she trying to be nice to him?

“You wanna buy me something?”, she nodded like this behavior was normal to her. “Sure.”

“Surprise me. I never eat fast food, I don’t know what´s good.”

She nodded and then told the voice from the box to double her order. Sitting back into her seat, [y/n] took out a hundred dollar bill from her purse, handing it to Spencer. When they pulled up by the window, taking their things, the woman in the window nearly lost it when she saw the rockstar, starting to cry. [y/n] was really nice to her and asked her if she wanted to take a photo in the parking lot. Of course the woman said yes and after paying, where [y/n] had left almost fifty bucks as a tip, Spencer had to park and wait till they had made the photo and given an autograph.

“Okay, now drive before it goes viral. I wanna eat that stuff before it gets cold.”, she told him, taking a sip of one of the milkshakes.

“That was nice.”, she shrugged and then told him her address, telling him she´d scream when they reached it.

*****

Lo and behold, no twenty minutes later they parked in front of [y/n] mansion, next to another, more run down car, belonging to Philip. The mansion would´ve made Rossi´s mansion cry. At least twice as big and the property was enormous. In contrast to [y/n], it was very light and minimalistic from the outside and the inside.

“Most rooms are empty. Too big.”, she explained walking straight into the open living area, that had a large terrace with pool and a view over the Hollywood hills. She put the paper bags filled with food on the large kitchen island and sat on a barstool.

“You could sell it and buy a smaller one.”, [y/n] shrugged and took out a burger, starting to eat it.

“Philip says I´m gonna grow into it.”, she answered, mocking the tone of voice her manager had probably had.

Spencer watched her type something on her phone and a minute later Philip came into the room.

“Hey, where were you? I got worried.”, he asked them and [y/n] handed him a salad.

“It´s the one you always have.”, he smiled at her.

“Thank you. You´re so nice.”, she shrugged at his words, not really caring.

“Yours is in here too, dog.”, she now told spencer.

Ah, yes. She was being bitchy again. Spencer had only waited for it to happen. He said nothing, but walked up to the white kitchen isle and took the bag she pointed at.

“Milkshake, burger, fries. Fast food essentials.”, she stated, finishing her small cheeseburger and getting up to her fridge, taking out a beer. She held it to Spencer who declined and then to Philip who did the same. “Lame asses.”, she chuckled, opening it and standing at the counter, watching Spencer eat. “So you´re here for…?”

“Technically it would be the easiest for all of us, if I just stayed.”, she raised her brows.

“Staying like, in my house staying?”, he nodded and she shook her head. “No chance. I enjoy my solitude.”

“[y/n]. If it´s easier for the agent and better for you…”, she sighed, opening a drawer and taking out some pills, swallowing them with her beer. “Fucking hell. But don´t expect me to be considerate of you.”, the rockstar told him.

“Should you consume them with alcohol?”, Spencer asked, taking a bite of his burger and she shrugged.

“I´m going to sleep…you guys…do what you want, I don’t care…”

“Do you need me to do your laundry?”, Philip asked and [y/n] shrugged again, it seemed to be her favorite motion. As she walked down the hallways and Phillip yelled after her. “Don’t forget that you have a gig tonight, [y/n]!”

“THAT`S WHY I`M GOING TO SLEEP NOW, DUMB ASS! WAKE ME UP WHEN WE NEED TO GO!”, she yelled back, followed by the smashing of a door.

“She´s a nice girl.”, Philip said in the middle of the silence, as Spencer took place on one of the barstools.

“Like a car crash.”, the man in his fifties chuckled.

“I know she´s difficult, but in here she´s good.”, he pointed at his heart. “She has suffered a lot of losses in her life.”

“Then, just as a random thought, you should get into therapy before she OD´s.”, Spencer answered sassy.

“I know what you mean. But as long as she doesn’t want help or overdoes it…she has a system.”, Spencer let his head fall back and groaned.

“You know about that fucking thing?” “You too?”, Philip asked back in surprise. “Profiler. Took me no longer than the nap in her car, to figure that out.”

Yes, a small lie from Spencer, but it sounded better then: Oh yes, I was addicted to dilaudid once. I had a system too!

“Tell me, how does that train wreck of a system work?”, Philip leaned back from his salad.

“Well, she takes her painkillers in the morning and smokes some cannabis to get out of bed. When we´re touring or she has to be at shootings, interviews or anything else that needs her to focus, she only smokes and takes the pills all day, alcohol in water bottles is a new one though.”, Spencer sighed and thought if he even wanted to know more.

“And when she´s alone or not busy?” “Then she does the harder stuff.” “Harder stuff like cocaine, LSD…?”, Philip nodded. “Nothing with needles though…she´s scared of them.”

“She will not always be, if she continues like that.” “I know. That´s why I do my best to keep her busy. She even has her own recording studio here, knows how to handle everything herself. I thought it might make her spend more time making music than getting high. I also go out with her a lot, to a point where my wife starts to get jealous.”, he laughed bittersweetly. “Have you ever been to Disney World, agent?”, Spencer shook his head. “I take [y/n] there once a week, because she likes it there. I spend more time with her there then with my own daughter.”, [y/n] was famous, no chance people wouldn’t notice her.

“Does she even get to do anything there?”

“Not often. She mostly meets her fans there, but she loves that a lot. She is really sweet to them too, they mean everything to her.”

That was the first time Philip had said something that was true about [y/n]. She had, not once been mean to a fan. The complete opposite actually. She had been nice and thoughtful, going out of her way to make the woman at the Drive-Through happy and was nice to Luke.

“I know she was a little mean to you today, but she also bought us food, seeing it as a matter of course. There are two sides to every person, like a coin.”, Like a coin, just that [y/n] sides flipped as quickly like one too. Philip sighed and got up from his barstool. “I´ll show you around a little, if you want to.”

Spencer nodded, getting up, following the short man around the house.

*****

[y/n] had been right.

It was way too big and many of the rooms were empty. When Spencer asked Philip about the necessity of such a big mansion, he told him, that he had hoped to motivate [y/n] to have a family one day. But now the only rooms in use were her bedroom, one of the five guest bedrooms, which Spencer got to stay in, the open living area with kitchen and living room, the recording studio and a little library. The latter made Spencer a little jealous. In the middle of the room even stood a white piano with notes on it. [y/n] also had a lot of books, all dusty, because she never read anymore. He would´ve killed to have his own library…she probably didn’t even value what she had.

When they returned into the living area, Philip gave Spencer some spare keys, beginning to clean up a little and putting the food in the fridge. [y/n] didn’t lie, when she said, she only had alcohol at home. JJ came over and brought Spencer his go bag, asking him how it was going. Of course he said he was doing great, but couldn’t help but rant to her about [y/n]´s behavior.

“Well, she is an addict, Spence. You know how erratic some drugs can make you.”, he nodded.

“Yeah, but she really tries pushing me and then, one second to the other, she´s nice and polite. Have you talked to her bandmates?”, JJ laughed.

“Way too long. We had interviews with them and then Luke just couldn’t stop talking to them, he has also taken about a million pictures with them and facetimed Penelope so she could meet them too.”, Spencer chuckled.

“Sounds like they had a good time. Anything else happened? Found out something?”

“[y/n]´s mother was an addict and left the family when she was younger. When she found out her daughter was famous, she got back in touch with her, to borrow money. [y/n] didn’t care and even got her to live with her, in one of the guest bedrooms. She overdosed a few months ago, since then [y/n]´s addiction got worse.”, Spencer´s eyes got wide.

“She didn’t die in the guest bedroom though, right?”

Just as JJ wanted to answer, [y/n] walked in. Philip walking behind her with a duffle bag.

“She died in the bathroom and she didn’t overdose perse, she drowned after falling unconscious in the bathtub, while being high.”, she answered cold, seeming to have overheard their conversation. [y/n] grabbed a beer from the fridge and continued calmly while taking some colorful pills. “I found her. The bathroom that it happened in is always locked. Don´t worry.”, Philip fidgeted a little with his hands, looking for his keys.

“Uh-Uhm. Agents? We need to go. The concert…”

“You coming too?”, [y/n] asked, looking at JJ and she shrugged. “We could also invite the cute one…Luke. It´s about 20.000 people so two more won´t hurt…right Philly?”, Phillip nodded.

“You´re all invited. SSA Prentiss as well.”, he said and JJ smiled at them.

“Thank you. That´s very nice, but I´ll have to talk to them first.”, [y/n] shrugged at that and drank her beer.

“You have my number, just call when you know. We start half past eight.”, Philip then took the empty beer bottle from [y/n] and threw it away. “Show time.”

*****

Half an hour into the concert Luke had shown up, completely hyped.

“What did I miss? We had some ex-staff members to talk to. Did they already play ‘Going to Hell’?”, Spencer nodded. “Argh, dammit. Doesn’t matter, that song´s amazing too.”

During the whole concert Spencer watched [y/n]. The music wasn’t that bad, a little harsh, but it was mix of hard and alternative rock after all. At least that´s what Penelope said, when Luke started facetiming her. After the last costume change, Spencer pulled [y/n] aside. He asked her to not be so ‘touchy’ with her fans. Since she would kneel down and hold their hands. He tried telling her about the risks of having the unsub in the audience, but she only laughed.

“I´ll be as touchy as I want, bitch.”, he started to frown.

“At least don’t stagedive. Luke says you always do that and the risk of the unsub use-“, she interrupted him, wanting to go on stage.

“Fuck off, dog.”, he held her arm, trying to reason with her.

“Can you ple-“, she tried pulling away, like an angry child.

“No.” “Stop being so fuck-“, [y/n] interrupted him again.

“Stop trying to fucking babysit me.”

“I just want to hel-“, she ripped her arm away. “Yeah, fuck you too.”, the rockstar answered, not letting him finish and walked back on stage.

Philip walked up to Spencer, having seem the ordeal of him trying to talk to [y/n] and him now driving the heel of his palm into his eyes. This girl gave him migraines.

“What happened?”, Philip asked and Luke answered for Spencer.

“He told her not to stagedive.”, Philip laughed a little and shook his head.

“Oh yeah. Never tell her what to do. She hates that and then does it out of spite.”

“You don’t say?”, Spencer answered sarcastically.

On stage [y/n] took her microphone, saying something to her bandmates and then smiling sweetly, while talking to her fans.

“This next song is for my lovely new babysitter, who thinks he can tell me what to do.”, the crowd started booing and she laughed. “I know, I know. But it looks like he doesn’t know how things work around here…So I think we have to help him out a little.”

The music started to play and Luke patted Spencer´s arm.

“She dedicates ‘Heaven Knows’ to you! Penny have you heard? She sings ‘Heaven Knows’ for Reid!”

“NO! SHUT UP!”, the blonde on the phone squeaked.

He and Garcia started to freak out while Spencer watched [y/n] clapping her thigh and stomping to the beat.

“Jimmy's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close, you can hear him cry

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Sing it!”

She lifted the mic to her audience she started to sing for her.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below, way down below, way down below

“Judy's in the front seat picking up trash

Livin' on the dole, gotta make that cash

Won't be pretty, won't be sweet

She's just sittin' here on her feet singin'

Oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Go!”

Again her fans obeyed her, Luke and Penelope freaking out next to Spencer. If it wouldn’t have been a moment, were he had to fear which move she had planned next to unnerve him, he might have even enjoyed this song and the involvement of her fans in it.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

“Sing, oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below”

She now looked at him for a moment, while her audience sang. Before, again, walking around the stage, touching her fans hands.

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've had better days, man, I've seen better days

I've had better ways, man, I know better ways

One, two, three and four, the devil's knocking at your door

Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie

Show your life with your head held high

Now you're on your knees with a head on low

Big man tells you where to go

Tell them it's good, tell 'em ok

Don't do a goddamn thing they say”

Spencer was surprised how well her fans knew her lyrics. She would just have to point at them or lift her mic and they would instantly sing were she stopped. Not missing a beat.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've seen better ways, and I know better ways

I've seen better days, man, I've got better days”

[y/n] now stood at the edge of the stage, back turned to her audience. She smiled directly at Spencer, fingers held like a gun to her head.

“Gina's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close you can hear the cryin'”

At the last word she mimicked shooting herself and let herself fall back into the crowd. Her fans got wild and continued her song, while Spencer certainly not in a long time, if ever, felt so much spite and frustration against a woman, other than Cat Adams.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Singin' oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh, Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

The crown placed [y/n] back on her stage, where she walked up to her bandmates again, waving at Spencer and Luke with the sweetest smile.

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

*****

After the concert and the encores she and the band got behind stage, where Spencer for the least thirty minutes had waited to give her a piece of his mind. As [y/n] giggled and walked up to him and Luke. He grabbed her arm, a little harsher than planned.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, she blinked at his yelling, answering with her innocent eyes blinking and a mocking tone.

“What´s the prob, dog?”

“What´s- Do you really care so little for your own safety?”, Hank came up to them, having seen Spencer´s grip on the girls arm.

“Hey! What´s going on here? [y/n], are you okay?”, Spencer quickly let go of her.

“Yeah, the dog is just pissing himself because I stage dived.”, he quickly took a deep breath.

“I´m not pissing myself, [y/n], but I told you not to do it. What would you have done when your stalker would´ve been in the crowd and lost it? Nobody would´ve been able to get to you fast enough and help!”, Hank looked at her in disappointed shock.

“Is that true, [y/n]?”, the black haired girl ignored her friend and just continued arguing with Spencer.

“Well, maybe I don’t want anybody’s help!”, she hissed at Spencer.

“Then why are we even here?”, Spencer hissed back. “BECAUSE I BRING MONEY! Else the label would let me rot in a fucking corner! GOD! You are ruining my after-show-high. I hate you!”, [y/n] yelled and Spencer tried not to yell back, tried to be the bigger person, only hissing back at her.

“Oh, trust me. That feeling is mutual.”, she swallowed hard and then turned around, stomping away.

*****

After half an hour waiting, Spencer got a call from Philip, telling him that [y/n] refused to see him again and would be sleeping at his house tonight. He told him, that he should just let himself into the mansion and eat what´s in the fridge. It wasn’t from use, to try talking to [y/n], when she was that angry. Tomorrow Philip would call him and bring her back into Spencer´s care.

Spencer did as told, Luke driving him to the mansion, telling him that it wasn’t his fault. He then got into the large, empty mansion and grabbed himself a well-deserved beer. Being alone in this big house was depressing. After his third beer he stopped, walking into his room.

He pulled his blue and gold sobriety token, he had gotten for being clean ten years, out of his bag. Thumb rubbing over the golden X in the middle of it. He actually had deserved a twelve year token by now, but since prison didn’t actively attended the meetings anymore, having grown past it. Yet, he still kept the tokens he had, close to him.

They reminded him of his achievement, reminded him to be proud at himself.

Spencer never wanted to fall back into the dark hole he was in, when he was addicted, and even when [y/n] would throw tantrum after childish tantrum, she wouldn’t cause him to relapse. He was stronger than this. Stronger than her.

To be continued...

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aperrywilliams · 11 months

Text

Green Card - Ch3: Newlyweds and Poorly Known (Spencer Reid x Fem!OC)

Author Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Previous chapter < > Next chapter

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!OC (Ana María González)

Chapter summary: Ana and Spencer marry thinking things will be easy from there. They are wrong.

Word Count: 4.5k

CW: One mention of sex (not described). Mention of illegal activities (marriage for convenience).

A/N: Hey there! This is chapter 3. Things start to get messy from here. Sorry (not sorry). Tell me what you think.

——————

The December cold morning found Spencer at the entrance of the courthouse. With a coffee in hand, he waited for Ana to arrive. From time to time, he checked his watch. It was still early, but he was visibly nervous.

Why? Was the fact he was going to marry a stranger? Or the fact it was an illegality? Both? Spencer didn't know, but he kept telling himself he had to do it.

After some minutes, Spencer spotted Ana walking toward him, Sarah by her side. Once they saw him, he waved to them awkwardly.

Sarah agreed to be their witness in their elopement. She wanted to help Ana, and since she insisted on considering Spencer’s offer, it was the least she could do.

The three exchanged sheepish hellos, only to end in uncomfortable silence. Spencer didn't know much to say as his eyes landed on the girl he would marry in the next hour.

It wasn’t how he imagined tying the knot. And boy, he thought about marrying several times in his life.

When he was a child, and his mom read him those classical novels with knights and damsels, Spencer pictured himself rescuing a girl and promising forever love.

Then, in school, he always hoped to find a girl who could understand him, and he would love and commit to life. With years, although Spencer understood reality wasn’t like books, his inner romantic self treasured the hope of finding his forever love. Even in his first year at the BAU, Spencer daydreamed about his chances of marrying JJ someday.

But now, in his late thirties, Spencer Reid has given up. He no longer looked for a person to devote his life to.

In these years, it was enough to get some affection and decent sex. And for him, Maeve has been filling those squares pretty well.

Spencer didn't think anymore he would get more than that in his life.

That's the reason he had contradictory feelings right now. Could he at least indulge in the fantasy for a moment? For the sake of times full of illusions and longing? It wasn’t difficult, to be honest. Ana is an attractive woman, and he noticed it as soon as he started to frequent the coffee shop. On any other day, he would have said it was impossible for a girl like her could lay eyes on him.

‘Who do you want to fool, Spencer Reid? She didn't lay eyes on you; she is doing this for a green card,’ the same Spencer chastised himself.

Ana’s thoughts were in a similar place as Spencer’s.

It's fake. It's fake. It's fake. Ana repeated over and over in her head. But the urge to throw up didn't fade. Why was she so edgy? Maybe because Sarah has been teasing her nonstop since she told her about the elopement. It's nonsense, though. The attractive Pumpkin-pie guy wasn’t marrying her. Well, he was, but not to ‘her,’ instead the chance of getting a spot for his mom in a clinical trial.

‘Él quiere ayudar a su mamá, y yo quiero mi residencia. Es una locura, pero no tengo otra alternativa.’ (he wants to help his mom, and I want my green card. It's insane, but I don't have a choice).

Maybe knowing his motives made the whole thing less wrong. Not right, but less wrong.

Ana told Spencer she would have done anything for her mom. And it was utterly true.

Watching Ana and Spencer, it wasn't difficult for Sarah to perceive their anxiety. Poor little kids, she thought.

“We should go in, right?” Sarah suggested, and her words worked to catch Spencer's attention.

“Oh, yes. Yes. We should. It's time,” he confirmed after rechecking his watch.

The three moved into the building and walked down a long, cold hallway to the registry office. After taking a number, the three sat and waited to be called.

"Spencer Reid and Ana Gonzalez," a woman shouted from a doorway. They quickly got up and followed the woman into the office.

An officiant animatedly greeted the couple and their witness. Spencer wondered how a person who always has to perform ceremonies for a thousand people who married for a thousand different reasons could pretend to be happy for all of them. Does she know how many marriages of convenience she officiates every day? Spencer could even estimate the number, and he was sure the officiant knew that too. His thoughts ended when the woman started to recite the law behind the marriage act.

It was happening.

After the whole legal speech, the officiant started with the questions which would seal the deal. His hands started shaking. And without any prompt, Ana held one of his hands, squeezing it gently. Spencer subtly glanced at their laced hands, and a sense of calm washed over him. He didn't know how, but the gesture did the trick.

“Do you, Ana, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do,” the girl pronounced, loud and clear, sliding the wedding band on Spencer’s ring finger.

“And do you, Spencer, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

Spencer looked at the girl by his side and got lost in the fantasy.

“I do,” he said, smiling at Ana, who returned a smile as he put the band on her ring finger too.

“By the authority vested in me by the State of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the woman concluded. “You may kiss the bride.”

Shit. Neither Ana nor Spencer was expecting that part. Awkwardly they looked at each other, and before things turned odd for the officiant, Ana threw her arms around Spencer’s neck, hiding her head in his chest.

“I love you!” the girl cheered. Then Spencer understood what she was doing, wrapping his arms around her midsection and twirling her around.

“I love you too, honey,” before kissing her cheek, just close enough to her mouth for the others to think they kissed on the lips.

It worked. The officiant congratulated them and announced she would get their licenses after Sarah signed the papers as a witness.

The couple exchanged no more words as they walked out of the building. They had to wait for Sarah and their papers.

After an excruciating silence, Spencer was the first one to speak.

“By the way, you were good in there,” he pointed. Ana blushed a bit.

“Thanks. Uh - I thought holding hands could give more credibility.”

“Agree. And that is very thoughtful of you. With the hug too.”

“I didn't want to overstep?”

They both giggled this time.

“Yeah. I get the irony.”

Ana was about to say something else when Sarah brought their licenses in hand.

“This is your copy, Dr. Reid,” Sarah handed Spencer his license. “And yours, Ms. Reid,” she teased with Ana’s copy. Ana looked at her, not very amused.

“So that’s it?” Ana asked. Spencer nodded.

“That's it. I mean, when you get your green card, and I get the spot for my mom, we can start the divorce papers,” Spencer explained, taking his ring off and tucking it with his license copy in his coat pocket.

Ana nodded in understanding, although she felt a little odd from the raw way he said it. Not that she would entertain the idea this was actually her wedding - although it was - but the truth was this was a ‘business’ agreement for personal purposes for her and Spencer.

“Thank you,” Ana said, a grateful look on her face as she took her ring off and put it in her purse. Spencer nodded.

“And thank you,” he said back. Both kept in the same spot, looking at each other with no other words.

What were they thinking? Everything and nothing in particular. They both knew the situation was odd, but for a reason they didn’t know, it felt okay, and the anxiety from before was no longer there.

“We should be going, Ana. Logan should be asking where we are by now,” Sarah interrupted.

“Yeah. You’re right,” Ana acknowledged, apologetically looking at Spencer.

“Please. I don’t want to hold you both for more time,” Spencer said.

Ana gave a tight lip smile before turning to go with Sarah. Spencer did the same after start walking to the opposite way.

The day after her elopement, Ana went to the Immigration office to submit her marriage license for her residence application. Although it was her day off, she promised Logan to return the hours she didn’t work the day before, so she arrived at the coffee shop at noon.

Things were going on smoothly on her shift until a group of people arrived, and a familiar voice picked Ana’s attention.

“Guys, I can make coffee at home. It’s not necessary-”

“Come on, boy genius; you’re the one who always says the coffee here is the best of DC. We have the right to know,” Garcia chirped as she picked up an empty table at the window.

“Pen is right, Spence. You talk a lot about this place,” JJ seconded. Defeated, Spencer followed his friends and sat beside JJ, in front of Luke and Garcia.

It was his mistake, Spencer knew. The team had paperwork that day, and Spencer offered a movie night. Habitually the team didn’t engage with Reid’s choice of movies, but this time Garcia, JJ, and Luke agreed. The bad thing was they were walking in the neighborhood to Spencer’s, and Penelope remembered how highly he had spoken about his favorite coffee shop.

Spencer could only hope Ana wasn't working that day. Bad luck for him when Ana herself came over to take their order.

“Good afternoon. What can I do for you?” the girl asked the group, trying to sound as normal as possible, ignoring the fact her brand-new husband was sitting at that very table.

Everyone ordered what they wanted to drink and eat except Spencer, who didn't even dare to look up from the menu.

"And what can I bring for you, sir?" Ana asked, looking at Spencer. Seeing how red he was, Luke decided to tease him a bit more.

"It’s doctor. This shy young man here is a doctor, you know?”

"Luke," Spencer muttered, now looking shyly at Ana.

"Oh, I see. I’m sorry. So, what the doctor wants to eat and drink?” Ana corrected, giving a warm smile to the man who only wanted to dig a hole and lie there.

“Just a black coffee, thank you,” was his reply. Ana nodded, excusing herself to go back to the kitchen.

It wasn’t Ana's intention to make Spencer nervous, but it was her job and his fault to bring his friends with him.

Ana asked Collin to bring the order to Spencer’s table. Seeing Collin instead of Ana made Spencer a bit less nervous and put a little more attention to the conversation between Luke, Garcia, and JJ.

“But Will insists on coming when I told him it was just the team,” JJ said while sipping her coffee.

“I’m not that sure. Dave said we could also bring a plus one,” Luke commented.

“Yeah? I didn’t know,” JJ replied.

“Will you bring Lisa?” Garcia asked Luke.

“I’ll ask her, but she’s an unpredictable schedule,” Luke shrugged.

“What about you, Spence? Will you ask Maeve to come?” JJ turned to see Spencer, who frowned at the question.

“Maeve? Why?” he questioned, visibly confused. JJ scoffed.

“Because she is your girlfriend? That’s why,” Garcia pointed out as the obvious thing to say.

“She is not my girlfriend,” Spencer denied, shooking his head.

“You are dating, right?” Luke intervened.

“No. I mean. We hang out, yes.”

“Come on, Spence. It's more than hanging out. You go on dates, text, talk by phone, and fuck like is no tomorrow,” JJ listed. Spencer almost chokes on his coffee.

“JJ!” he chimed.

“And this has been happening since what? A year?” Luke added.

“One year, two months, and three weeks,” Spencer replied, giving his friends the answer they had waited for.

“Sorry, boy-wonder, but Maeve is your girlfriend,” Garcia sentenced.

Not that Spencer hasn't thought about it before. But saying Maeve was his girlfriend seemed excessive. It wasn’t he didn't want to. He'd even brought it up to Maeve a couple of times. But after months in the same routine, it didn't seem to her like things should change. That's why Spencer hasn't insisted on it.

And it wasn't something he wanted to discuss with his friends either. In the same way, it wasn't something he wanted Ana to know about his life. Unfortunately, the girl was cleaning a table just behind theirs while the conversation took place, listening to everything without Spencer noticing.

To say Ana was mad it’s an understatement. Spencer has a girlfriend who could have married him to help him. But instead, he chose her. Ana didn’t want to think Spencer was taking advantage of her, but he preferred to put the charade with her, the poor desperate immigrant, who nobody from his life knew and will not.

Still exasperated, when Ana saw JJ and Garcia go to the bathroom and Luke went to pay the bill directly to the register, she walked straight to the table with the excuse of cleaning it up. As soon Spencer saw her, Ana called out to him, clearly angry.

“You have a girlfriend! I’m married to a guy with a girlfriend!” she whisper-shouted. Spencer’s eyes widened, realizing she had heard them before.

“No. It’s not like that,” he hurried to say.

“Come on. I heard the blondes talking about your girlfriend! You could have asked her to marry you!”

To avoid suspicions from the patrons, Ana collected the cups and plates in a tray.

“She wouldn’t- I mean-” Spencer stuttered, trying to explain himself.

“She wouldn’t have agreed with this madness like I did? Sure, she’s not the desperate one,” Ana mocked, making Spencer huff in distress.

“No! I didn’t ask her because she is not my girlfriend. We - we just are together. Sometimes. I couldn't have trusted her on-”

“Spencer? Are you okay?” JJ asked, suddenly behind them. That made Spencer and Ana jump. Reid turned to see his friend as Ana quickly disappeared into the kitchen with the tray in her hands.

“I - yeah. I was just asking-” he tried to think something fast. “Asking the waitress something,” he finished. JJ and Garcia narrowed their eyes.

“We can go,” Luke said, joining the group and saving Spencer from giving further explanations.

“Great. Let’s go then,” Spencer hastened to say, standing from his spot and grabbing his satchel.

If JJ and Garcia still were confused about what they saw or thought they saw, they didn't keep pushing and decided to follow Spencer and Luke out of the coffee shop.

They didn't talk again. Spencer has been whisked away for a case in Los Angeles for six days now. Although he texted Ana, asking her not to be mad at him, she only replied politely by saying it was better not to talk unless they were to start the divorce papers. Spencer understood and respected her request.

Ana was still waiting for a reply to her application, and Spencer wrote Fogarty telling him the news and attaching a copy of his marriage license. It was a matter of time for this to be over.

At least Ana and Spencer thought that.

The day after Spencer returned from Los Angeles, he was doing paperwork at the bullpen when his phone went off.

“Hello?” Spencer answered. On the other side, a feminine voice spoke.

“Hello. Good morning. May I speak with Doctor Spencer Reid, please?”

“Doctor Reid's speaking,” he said, thinking it could be from Fogarty’s office, although he never heard that voice before.

“Doctor Reid. My name is Catherine Jones. I’m with the Immigration Office. I’m calling because we want to visit you and Mrs. Reid at home. My records say you both got married recently.”

Spencer almost fell from his chair. Shit. What were the odds? Did she say records? Were they tracking them?

A million thoughts raced in Spencer’s mind in a matter of seconds. And even if Spencer knew this could happen, it didn't prevent the knot in his stomach.

“Oh, yeah?” he muttered, clearing his throat.

Ms. Jones scheduled the visit for the same day in the afternoon. Spencer didn't dare to argue against it. After hanging up, Spencer quickly dialed Ana’s number.

“Hello?” As soon as she answered, Spencer was quick to speak.

“Ana. We need to talk.”

Ana arrived at Spencer’s apartment just minutes before the scheduled time with the Immigration agents. As Ana knocked, Spencer rushed to open the door.

“I thought you were to come earlier?” He pointed, clearly nervous.

“I’m sorry, I couldn't leave my shift until minutes ago,” she apologized, stepping into the apartment. Spencer closed the door and started pacing.

“We have a lot to talk about. We-we need to agree on what to say. I mean, what are we going to say? What will they ask us?” Spencer was about to fall into a spiral. Ana put a hand over his arm to stop him.

“Spencer, calm down. They only want to see us together. I asked, and the same thing happened to a guy from the coffee shop. He told me they showed up, asked for their papers, and left. That's all,” Ana explained, trying to ease some of Spencer’s tension. Even if she was equally nervous, at least she didn’t show it. Spencer stopped pacing and ran a hand over his hair.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. What else could be?”

“Right. Uh- I guess we need to put our rings on? And it is supposed we live together. There is nothing yours here!” Spencer was about to hyperventilate again when the doorbell rang.

“Hey. Hey! Look at me,” Ana told Spencer, a comforting hand on his cheek. “It will be okay. Put your ring on. I’ll be in the kitchen making coffee, okay?”

Spencer took a deep breath and nodded, sliding the wedding band on his finger; he straightened his shirt and went to open the door.

Ana did not know where such confidence came from. She was a nervous wreck, but someone had to stay calm. Despite never having set foot in Spencer's apartment before, a quick glance gave her an idea. Dark green walls, long curtains, traditional furniture, walls full of certificates and books, many, many books.

It was hard to imagine Spencer was an FBI agent and not a college professor. The only thing that could contribute to the former was the manila folders scattered on the coffee table with the DOJ logo.

Looking behind her, Ana saw the kitchen entrance. There was a little counter with coffee mugs, a kettle, and a coffee machine. Of course, Spencer would have one. The cabinets weren't many, so Ana quickly found what she needed to make coffee.

Spencer opened the door to see a man and a woman, both very correctly dressed, each with a black briefcase in hand.

“Good afternoon, Dr. Reid, I presume. I’m Agent Jones, and this is my partner, Agent Gorski.” Spencer recognized the woman's voice who spoke to him in the morning. Trying not to look too nervous, Spencer cleared his throat before speaking.

“Oh, right. Please, come in.”

Both agents nodded and stepped inside the apartment. Spencer was quickly apologizing.

“I’m sorry, this place is a mess. I - uh - we haven’t had much time to tidy, honestly.”

“It’s not a problem,” Gorski replied in a friendly manner. Jones, instead, didn’t say anything, examining the whole room.

Spencer tried not to look too much into it, but his profiling skills told him enough about Jones and Gorski. His initial conclusion was to try not to mess with Jones.

Spencer invited the pair to sit on the couch, but they chose the chairs in front.

“Ana! We have guests!” Spencer called.

“Coming!” She replied from the kitchen.

“She’s making coffee,” Spencer explained.

“Oh, it wasn’t necessary,” Gorski said.

“No. It wasn’t,” Jones seconded curtly.

When Spencer was about to say something, Ana appeared with a tray containing a French Press, four cups, spoons, sugar, and cream. Leaving everything on the coffee table, she extended her hand to greet both agents.

“Hi. I’m Ana. Ana Reid,” she introduced herself.

Gorski and Jones greeted back, giving their names again. After the courtesies, Spencer and Ana sat on the couch. Both agents opened their briefcases simultaneously, taking a folder and a pen from it.

Gorski explained to the couple about the interview and told them it was protocol to make a follow-up.

Spencer listened and nodded. At the same time, Ana nodded and poured the coffee into the cups, offering it to the guests. Although their previous statement of not being necessary, they accepted the treatment.

Jones was the first one to shoot after sipping her coffee.

“Since when are you in the US?” Ana nodded and quickly replied.

“A year. Once I put a foot in this country, I loved it,” she admitted enthusiastically.

“Any family in the US?” Gorski asked this time.

“None. I mean, now it is me and Spencer,” Ana said, smiling at her husband, who took her hand and kissed it.

“Yeah. We are a family now,” Spencer added, not leaving the grasp of Ana’s hand.

“Are you working in a dining?” Jones kept on.

“I do.”

The interview dynamic continued like that. The questions were mainly directed at Ana and her current life in the US. A few questions were to Spencer and his work life.

“So, you met in the coffee shop just four months ago? That was fast,” Jones commented.

It could be an expected remark, but coming from an Inmigration Agent, it didn't go unnoticed by Ana and Spencer.

“Love doesn't care about time, you know?” Ana responded with a smile plastered on her face as she made eye contact with Spencer.

If Spencer didn't know better, he would have believed Ana's statement with no hesitation. She sounded and looked so convincing there was no way Jones and Gorski could doubt her. Just for good measure, he added to his wife's point.

“Or language barriers,” he said, making Ana chuckle.

“I bet it doesn't. Have been difficult the communication?” Gorski questioned out of curiosity.

“Oh, not at all! Ana is very fluent in English, not like me in Spanish,” Spencer commented as Ana shook her head.

“You’re doing it great with Spanish too, honey,” Ana debated, slapping Spencer's forearm playfully.

“I’m not!”

“Sí, mi amor. No te hagas el modesto. Puedes mostrarle a nuestros invitados que has mejorado mucho en estos meses. Además debo confesar que tu acento es tan sexy.” (You do, my love. Don’t be so humble about it. You can show it to our guests you had improved a lot these past months. Also, I must say your accent sounds so sexy).

The truth is Spencer does understand pretty good Spanish, although he can’t speak much. So it wasn’t fake the blush creeping on his face at Ana’s words. Spencer’s reaction made Gorski laugh. Jones only hummed. Spencer thought it was a good move to finish off with a love statement.

“You know, I used to be skeptical about love at first sight. I have been a scientist since my early youth, but Ana rocked my world when I saw her for the first time. My only thought then was I needed to make her my wife.”

“Oh, baby,” Ana cooed, stroking Spencer’s hand.

“Okay. I think that’s all,” Jones suddenly said while putting her folder and pen in her briefcase. Gorski joined her, both standing from their seats.

Ana and Spencer stood simultaneously, with no clue about what the agents were thinking. They kept reassuringly holding hands.

“Thank you. We’ll be in touch if it is needed,” was the only thing Jones said before turning to walk to the entrance.

“Of course. I'll walk you to the door,” Spencer responded, leaving the grasp of Ana’s hand to lead their guests to the door.

Once Spencer closed the door, he turned to look at Ana. They both shared an expression between confusion and insecurity about what had just happened.

“Well, that was an interesting experience, wasn’t it?” Spencer mentioned as Ana plopped on the couch; she felt like she just run a marathon.

“Yeah, that's one way to put it,” she breathed. “Do you think they believed it?”

“I hope so. You were very convincing,” Spencer pointed, sitting on the couch too, stretching his legs. A similar exhaustion took over him.

“Thanks. You were good too. The thing about love at first sight? Well played,” Ana complimented, wondering if Spencer could genuinely believe something like that. She didn't give it much thought, though; it wasn’t the point right now.

They kept silent, looking at the ceiling for a while, trying to convince themself things went well enough not to hear again from Jones and Gorski.

“Spencer?” Ana turned to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. This wasn’t something I thought would happen, and you didn't have any obligation to do it. Not to mention how mad I was with you about something that isn’t my business. I’m sorry for that. You have your own reasons for not asking your girlfriend to do this,” Ana apologized. Spencer shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry. I understand. I didn't mention Maeve before, but because I really think she is not my girlfriend, although I must admit ours is complicated. But I don’t want to bore you with my problems,” Spencer stopped himself before saying too much.

“I get it. I don't like to talk that much about my problems too. But given our current circumstances, maybe you could use someone to vent. I’m a good listener, you know?”

Spencer chuckled, considering Ana’s words. It was weird, but even not knowing her at all, he felt like he could trust her.

“Yeah? Okay, but only if I can get another coffee made by you,” Spencer conceded. Ana laughed before answering.

“Deal.”

——————

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#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid series #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x oc #green card #spencer reid x latina!oc

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

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The Bones (Reid Series) Part 2

Summary: After doing an even deeper dive on Valerie’s past, Spencer finally meets her, but his invasiveness isn’t the worst part ... the worst part is he might actually like her.

Playlist: “The Bones” by Maren Morris & Hozier (BONUS: song includes major foreshadowing) Category: Series, Fluff, Soft Angst, Eventual smut and *NSFW content Pairing: Spencer Reid POV x Fem!OC - Valerie Content Warning: invasion of privacy, allusions to Maeve’s death, arrhythmia Word Count: 3.4k

Part 1 |

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

After firmly deciding not to weave Penelope into my tangled web, I was met with the arduous burden of conducting my own research.

Firstly, I would need a computer - yeah ... a computer. That’s how far I was willing to go for this pursuit. I once vowed never to fall victim to modern technology’s clutches, and yet here I was, doing my research on a public library’s computer. To my credit, I hadn’t gone out and bought one, I was merely using my resources.

With the need for a device out of the way, all that was left was the knowledge of what to look for. But that didn’t pose a problem either.

Funny enough, with as many rules and restrictions as there are regarding patient privacy and confidentiality, all it took was matching dates of news stories with hospital records to complete my research. I was fairly certain I was only scratching the surface of information about Valerie as opposed to the sea of things I could’ve uncovered if I asked for Garcia’s help, but there are only so many lines a person can cross in one week.

This was my limit.

Call me naive, but I was actually quite surprised with just how expansive the internet is. To an almost relentless degree, I would open an article and it would lead me to ten more about the same topic. It was this never ending rabbit hole that seemed to spiral on forever. I kept digging deeper and deeper until I could no longer dig.

I’d officially hit rock bottom.

It took me a grand total of just two hours to unearth all the ‘dirt’ I could on a young Valerie Bishop.

Local 16-year-old Wins Nevada’s Statewide Art Contest! Published by Henderson Press.

Valerie, just a sophomore in high school at the time, was donning what any experimental teen girl would’ve worn in the early 2000s - bootcut jeans and a sequin blouse over top of a plain camisole. And if I zoomed in close enough, I could spot the evidence of a sparkly blue shadow coating her eyelids. Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t the first thing I noticed.

It was that smile. That tooth-achingly sweet smile.

Though I never got the chance to see Maeve truly smile, that’s what I imagined it would look like.

The photographer must’ve caught her midway through a laugh, at least that’s what the image of her slightly open-mouthed grin told me. Meanwhile, her two tiny hands were clenching her overbearingly large trophy while her artwork stood behind her as the background.

It didn’t take me long to figure out why her painting won. Simply put, there was no need to see anyone else’s art to know that they couldn’t possibly compete with hers.

Hers was an abstract rendition of what I believe to be a forest of some sort. The detail is what I was most drawn to. It would’ve been unbelievable on its own but the fact that she was 16 when she painted it? That’s what was unbelievable to me.

If that’s how talented she was at that age, I could only imagine how much more talented she became with time. However, I lost the chance to investigate the current state of her skill before a related article from The Cleveland Gazette about Valerie succeeded this one.

From Award-Winning Artist to Henderson’s Hero

Read my interview with 17-year-old Valerie Bishop to find out more about her struggle with arrhythmia and how she turned her pain into a project!

By Kelli Gallagher from the Cleveland Gazette.

Gallagher: Thank you so much for letting me interview you, Valerie.

Bishop: Of course! I’m happy to.

Gallagher: You’ve become somewhat of a hero in Henderson, Nevada, haven’t you?

Bishop: I wouldn’t call myself a hero ... but if everyone else wants to - I’m fine with that. (laughs)

Gallagher: Don’t be so modest! I mean, what you’ve done is so incredible, and you’re only what? Seventeen?

Bishop: Yes, ma’am. I just turned seventeen this past August.

Gallagher: Wow, I can’t believe how young you are and yet you’ve already accomplished so much. I saw that you won a statewide art contest last year. Tell me more about that.

Bishop: That’s a funny story actually. My Grandma Sheila was the one who entered me in that contest. I didn’t even know about it until I won it. She’s always surprising me, though. In fact, she’s the one that surprised me with my first ever art supplies, when I was about eight or so. They were these super expensive oil paints, and I knew she couldn’t afford them, so I told her we should return them and get something cheaper, but she said, “Nonsense. When the bones are good the rest don’t matter. A house don’t fall when the bones are good.” That was kind of her saying.

A house don’t fall when the bones are good.

The bones.

Gallagher: I’m interested to know more about your relationship with your grandma. If I’m remembering correctly, she was also diagnosed with arrhythmia a while back too, right?

Bishop: Yes, she was, but that’s never slowed her down. And as for our relationship, my grandma and I have always been close, but arrhythmia, in a weird way, has brought us even closer. She has always been my biggest supporter and the fact that we’re both on this journey together makes her my biggest supporter even more so.

Gallagher: Absolutely. Now, I also heard that you’ve started a fundraising program to possibly start a gallery and studio in Virginia Beach. If you don’t mind me asking, why Virginia Beach? Is there any special significance?

Bishop: Actually, that’s where my grandma met my grandpa, and they got married and started a family there, too. So if Grandma Sheila hadn’t been there to meet him, she wouldn’t have had my mom, and that would mean I wouldn’t have been here either. I like to think Virginia Beach is where it all started. In a way, it’s where my bones are. That solid foundation in Virginia gave me everything I have today.

Gallagher: That is just incredible. I’m so glad to see your fundraising project is thriving, but I can’t imagine any of this has been particularly easy for you. You were diagnosed right around the time your senior year was starting right?

Bishop: Yes ma’am.

Gallagher: So what brought you from Henderson to Cleveland?

Bishop: Well, actually, I didn’t want to move, especially not before I graduated, but Cleveland has the best cardiovascular hospital in the country and my health is far more important than graduating in the same state I grew up in. So when my parents were willing to move me and my sister out here, I saw it as a privilege rather than something to be sad about.

Gallagher: I am so inspired by you, Valerie.

Bishop: (laughs) Really, why?

Gallagher: Despite everything that’d been thrown at you, you are still so grateful. I hope you never lose that.

Bishop: I promise you I won’t.

Gallagher: So one last thing before I go, what is one hope you have for your future self?

Bishop: I hope, future self, that your ‘bones’ are still strong.

Gallagher: Beautiful. Thank you so much again for doing this, Valerie. I sincerely hope you reach your goal and you get to open up that gallery and studio in Virginia Beach.

At the bottom of the article, there was a footnote from Kelli Gallagher.

Exactly 10 years later, Bishop was able to move to Virginia Beach and open up her gallery and studio.

By the end of the article, I felt a genuine sense of pride for Valerie, and I know I had virtually no right to know these things about her, but I could still be proud of her for them right?

I would never fully get my answer to this question before I crossed the final boundary.

After exhausting all that I could gather from the internet without Penelope’s assistance, the only thing left for me to do was actually meet her in person. However, this would prove to be a bigger obstacle that it seemed. I decided to delay the daunting task until the next day. A decision partially influenced by the phrase, ‘sleep on it.’ I prayed I’d gain clarity on what to do when I woke up the next morning, but even with a night’s rest, I was still undecided as I drove to Virginia Beach once more.

To sit in my car that was conveniently parked right in front of the gallery was a poor choice. Because with every passing second, the temptation to walk in grew, but the fear of regret dampened those impulses. The more I thought about it, the more I psyched myself out. Between my two choices, to freeze or to fight, I should’ve taken the third - to flee. But I was here now and I couldn’t leave empty-handed for a second time.

After a moment’s indecision, adrenaline coursed through my veins to give me the courage to get out of my car. When I felt an outdoor breeze blow over me, I knew there was no going back now. Right when I walked in, the little bell above the door rang, solidifying that I was officially crossing the threshold, and whether I liked it or not, she was going to see me after hearing me walk in.

“I’ll be right with you!” A small voice called out from somewhere in the back. She was hidden from my immediate sight, and somehow that made it so much worse. It was now I that was waiting for her, instead of her unknowingly waiting for me.

As though I were prey getting ready to escape a predator, I stayed put by the door. It gave me a full view of the entire place anyway.

Scoping out my surroundings, I spotted the paintings that were carefully measured and placed on the walls, almost to perfection. I had no time to notice anything more before the person in the back walked out.

Immediately when I saw her, I knew.

“You’re … not Valerie.” I couldn’t help sounding so disappointed but luckily, the woman that came out took no offense to my observation.

“No, I’m not,” She laughed. “But I can get her for you-”

“No wait!” I uselessly leapt forward to stop her from saying, “Vee! There’s someone out here to see you!” But that’s precisely what she did anyway. Evidently oblivious of my previous protests, she politely smiled back at me. “She’ll be right out.”

For the second time that day, I waited with bated breath, anxiously anticipating the arrival of Valerie. And I was almost too focused on subduing the pounding of my heart to realize that she was actually walking out of the back right now.

“Hi, sorry about that!” A new voice chirped.

Valerie.

The moment I laid eyes on her, it became clear to me that the pictures in her files hardly did her justice. Nothing could compare to the real sight of her. I was only able to catch the profile of her face when I saw her in the cafe, but in her entirety, I began to wax nostalgic. Though her face and hair and body had transformed into that of a grown woman’s features, I could still identify the same tooth-achingly sweet smile that a younger Valerie once wore on the front page of the Henderson Press. She was no beast to conquer, she was just a girl, smiling at me in that same gentle way.

Her expression just as well showed no indication of recognition, not that she would recognize me, considering my letter was anonymous and unless she pulled the same stunt I did, she wouldn’t ever recognize who I was.

“I’m Val,” She made her greeting to me while untying her dirtied waist apron, and it was merely the action that caused my gaze to fall to her hips, but when she shed the apron, I was still staring. There was something sort of mesmerizing about the way they swayed as she approached. It wasn’t until they stopped swaying completely that I realized they did so because there was no more distance to advance - she was already right there in front of me, patiently watching me stare.

“Val?” I blinked hard to revert my gaze while also playing into the part that I had no idea who she was.

“Mhm. Short for Valerie,” She confirmed happily. “Like the Amy Winehouse song.”

This time, I genuinely didn’t know what she was referring to, and my confused countenance prompted her to clarify, “You don’t know that song?”

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, she began to playfully sing, “Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water ...”

While she watched my face and waited for the recitation of the song to jog my memory, I was just as much studying her face. I could tell she was only kidding when she sang, evidenced by the laugh that followed her rendition, but it sounded so unironically good that I had to question what other talents she possessed.

“Um, I was actually thinking more like Valerie, the martyred medieval saint, whose name stood for strength and health.” No sooner than the words spilled from my mouth did I recognize the freudian slip - the simultaneous coincidence and confession. The coincidence was that, now, with Maeve’s heart beating in her chest, she lived up to her name - she was newly strong and healthy. But I worried, she would see the correlation I drew between her name and her successful transplant and would realize that I knew more about her than I let on. Did I just give away too much?

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name earlier. What was it?” Her casual dismissiveness of my previous statement did nothing to ease my worries. Was she beginning to piece everything together?

“Oh, right!” I said dumbly. “S-Spencer. I’m Spencer.” I was such a blubbering bundle of nerves that I actually reached out to shake her hand - a stranger’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Spencer,” She softly laughed, which was hopefully not out of the enjoyment of seeing me squirm. “What can I do for you?”

A loaded question, don’t you think? What can you do for me, Valerie? Well, for one thing, you could’ve answered my letter, but to say something as bold as that would require me to admit the real reason I was here, and how could I do that without mentioning how I found you in the first place?

“Um ...” Whose birthday is the soonest? “My friend Emily’s birthday is coming up and I was wondering if I could possibly buy a painting from you as a birthday present.”

There was the faintest perceptible skepticism in her expression, but that could’ve just been my paranoia talking because in the next breath, she didn’t suggest a proclivity to my deceit. “Yeah, of course! Do you know what her favorite medium is? Or her favorite artist? Or her favorite style of art?”

For every addition to the question, I wordlessly shook my head no. Was my lie already unraveling? Could she see right through me?

“No worries. If you want, you can walk around the gallery and tell me if you see anything you think she’d like.” She made her offer to me sweetly, then disappeared into the back room again. I tried to follow her with my eyes for as long as I could, but from where I was standing, I couldn’t see very far into it. I wandered a little further into the center of the gallery to possibly catch a glimpse of what was occupying her time back there, but when I heard the chattering of two voices, Valerie and the other woman, coming from the same general direction, I realized I was completely alone in this part of the studio.

With no one around to bear witness but these portraits, I could’ve easily slipped out and made my escape, and I might’ve even done it had it not been for the unmistakable gravitational pull forcing me to stay here and walk about the room.

Making my way throughout the gallery, I would pause every now and then when a painting would stand out to me, which was often, considering each picture was impressive.

But there was one painting in particular that piqued my interest. It made me feel something I’d never felt before.

It wasn’t special by any means. By rights, I shouldn’t have even noticed it, for it wasn’t the largest painting, nor the smallest one - it wasn’t even the most average painting. But it felt exceptionally ... Valerie. I had no doubt in my mind that she painted this one - in fact, I had a good bet that she painted most of these portraits, if not all of them - but this one. There was just something about it that I couldn’t put my finger on.

“So,” A draft was created from where Valerie swiftly and unexpectedly joined me at my side. “What do you think?”

“Um, there’s definitely something,” I struggled to find the word. “appealing about this one.” Almost as soon as the word came out of my mouth, I knew it was only a matter of time before she called out the inadequacy of my answer.

“Appealing?” She repeated in mockery. “That’s the best you got? Come on, you’ve been standing here for like ten minutes. There must be something about it you like.”

“I’m not sure.” I honestly admitted with a shrug.

“There’s no wrong answer.” She assured me, but I found that hard to believe.

“So if I said I see a grizzly bear attacking a UFO, that wouldn’t be wrong?”

“Nope,” She popped the p. “If that’s how you interpret it then that’s how you interpret it. Just because someone else sees it differently, doesn’t mean you’re wrong.” It would’ve sounded like complete bullshit or nauseatingly cheesy coming out of someone else’s mouth, but her delivery felt so genuine. It actually moved me.

As she said this, she turned her head in my direction to look up at me, causing her shoulder to brush my upper arm, sending a wave of goosebumps all over my body.

She was so close.

But I was so unbothered by her proximity that I didn’t even notice exactly how close she really was. If someone else had invaded my personal space like that, I would’ve moved in the opposite direction just on instinct, but I didn’t even think to do that with Valerie. I was so comfortable with her being there.

But was that just because a part of her was once Maeve’s? Was the entire foundation of my likening to Valerie built upon that single attribute?

Was that my bones?

“Um,” I began fidgeting with my hands to self-soothe. “I like it. I don’t know why. But I like it. How’s that for an answer?”

There was a pause before her response that compelled me to look at her, but when I did so, she was already looking at me. “I’ll take it,” She nodded. “It’s the biggest compliment to me if my art can make you feel something.”

Was it the art that made me feel something ... or you?

“I’ll tell you what,” She walked over to grab something from the front desk. She came back with a small piece of cardstock. “I’m going to an art exhibition next weekend. Why don’t you come with me and see if you can’t find something for Emily there?”

She handed me the paper, which was actually her business card. “You don’t have to have an answer for me today, but call me when you do.” She seemed to think that was the end of the conversation, but I still had more questions.

“You’re inviting me?” was the first question that came to mind, albeit the dumbest one.

“Yeah, you can be my plus one.”

I gulped to dislodge the lump in my throat. “Like-like your date?”

She furrowed her brows with mild confusion. “Um ... sure, if that’s what you wanna call it,” which was the last thing she said to me before vanishing within the back room again.

I peered back down at the card and tapped it gently on the palm on my hand as though to register its presence really being there.

For all intents and purposes, this card was meaningless. But to me, it was the formal consenting - nay, invitation - to reach out to her again. She was willingly extending this line of contact to me.

No more public library computers. No more files. No more ‘research.’ Just her number - a way to reach her without veering off my moral compass.

Despite this, I still had no clue whether or not I was going to accept her offer.

All that I did know was that I wanted to see her again.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 3 COMING SOON!

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criminalminds4days · 3 years

Text

Let Him Go (S.R.)

Hello Friends!!

I am doing finals so I decided the best choice for me was to write a long Spencer Reid Fanfiction. Hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: None, except mentions of murder, and violence. Swear words.

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“I don’t know what you want me to say.” The words came out before she could think them through. She knew exactly what he needed because she wanted it too, but she just couldn’t say it, it frightened her.

“Really? You don’t know what to say?” He scoffed, ready to give up all hope. “I love you; I’ve loved you for years… I am ready to spend the rest of my life with you, but I need to know if that is something that’s ever gonna happen. I can’t keep going like this, I am done playing games, I am done going in a circle.” He was hurt, his brown eyes reflected it perfectly, the tears that threaten to escape him almost made her break.

Almost.

“I can’t give you what you want.” It was true, and it wasn’t because she didn’t want to, of course, she wanted to grow old with him, wake up next to him every single day, but the fear that engulfed her, of one day him realizing he could do much better and walking up and leaving, that was enough to ground her.

She wasn’t ready. She repeated to herself, hoping one day it would be believable.

“Then I guess that settles it.” His voice broke, knowing full well what this meant for them, “I can’t keep doing this and you can. We are simply not at the age where it’s for fun. I need stability, I need a partner who knows what they want in a relationship and that is obviously not you.” A sole tear left his face, hiding underneath his chin. “I really wish it was.” He mumbled as he left the room. There it was, the image she feared so much, caused solely by her actions, it was better now than later, she reminded herself but that did not make the heartbreak any less painful.

Spencer Reid, her colleague, friend, and for the past three years, her lover. They had met in 2005, after she had joined the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, quickly bonding over their shared love for books, despite her hatred of some of the classics, as they were often referred to. Soon enough, those brown eyes, that awkward smile, and his tall figure had become engraved in her brain to the point in which she could no longer ignore it. She kissed him and that was the best decision she had ever made.

For three years they had been happy, and it seemed to everybody that soon enough they would be engaged, married, and with kids. When the conversation of this possible future arose between them, she couldn’t help but panic, leading to their current situation. He had left her, and she regretted every minute she didn’t run after him. She was going to run after him, she really was but as soon as her hand touched the doorknob she stopped herself.

Fear.

It was stupid, she knew it was, but it was paralyzing her in place, preventing her from ever reaching for that happy family she hoped to have with him one day.

Years went by, her regret never subsiding.

Why was she there?

It was clear this was a mistake; she knew it was. He was getting married and she simply sat there, wishing it was her who he smiled at, who he was gonna have a family with. Nonetheless, there she was, watching the man she loved get married, while she remembered that day, five years ago, in which she let him go. She smiled at the couple and congratulated them. She toasted, danced, smiled, laughed, and joked all while her heart was being torn to pieces at the sight of the happy newlyweds. That was the moment she decided she couldn’t stay. The offer she had been considering finally making sense. It was time to leave the BAU, time to leave the heartbreak, and time to leave Spencer Reid for good. She hoped the woman he was marrying would be horrible, that she could hate her, but Maeve Donovan was anything but. She was a kind soul, smart beyond reason, with all truthfulness, she could just see how she made Spencer happy and that was enough to eradicate all hope for hate.

Starting over was painful, saying goodbye was painful, but it was necessary. When he asked what prompted her decision she said, “I think I need to take the next step in my life.” He nodded and wished her nothing but the best and she smiled, not wanting to tell him she felt she had already lost it. When she arrived at her new office in Paris, she couldn’t properly appreciate the fact that her dream home was now her actual home. Her room growing up had been filled with Eiffel towers, and by the age of twelve, she was fluent in the language of the city of love. Granted, it helped that her parents both spoke English and Spanish, so learning French was a breeze.

She began work and soon found herself so immersed in it, she didn’t realize there was a life she left behind, there were friends she had not contacted in years. It wasn’t until she saw Emily Prentiss and heard what happened that she realized just how much she had forgotten when she decided to leave. She allowed her old coworker to take her out of her comfort zone and soon enough she found herself dating a tall dark-haired man named Liam Gardner, that happened to work as an undercover agent, just like her. Was there something about dating coworkers that got to her? She laughed at the suggestion.

It had been a year since she had dated this man when he asked her, she was in the same position she had been almost a decade ago and the regret of that night, and how strongly she felt for the man in front of her, made her answer different. It made her realize he couldn’t lose him like she had lost Spencer. “Yes, I do want to marry you.” She found herself saying, and for once, her life was on track.

She wasn’t terrified, and that was her first mistake. She figured it out on their first anniversary, as she patiently waited for him at their favorite restaurant, the Eiffel Tower shining in the distance, and the diamond ring that never left her hand, unless she was within a job, reflected the lights of the establishment.

“Excuse moi, mademoiselle?” A man had approached her, and her gut told her something was wrong. Her husband had infiltrated an organization that sold kids around the world, he hated the idea more than anything, but didn’t give a second thought to the offer, he loved children and would do anything to make sure more kids were safe. He had been organizing a raid that would tear down the whole system two days ago and he would be home just in time for their anniversary. But something went wrong, the operation was messier than they expected, and he was caught in the crossfire.

He died a hero.

People reminded her, but that didn’t mean much when the man she loved was buried six feet under. Once again, she experienced the loss she was so afraid of, and once again he reminded herself how this was what she was destined for, and she was a fool to think otherwise.

How long had it been? A year since he passed? She wasn’t quite sure, but she couldn’t bring herself to take the ring off. Her phone rang and she almost didn’t recognize the voice on the other side “Hey, It’s me JJ.” Jennifer Jareau, one of her ex-coworkers spoke on the other side. She didn’t have much of a long history with JJ, but that was partly because of her history with Spencer, who happened to be the blonde woman on the other side of the phone’s best friend. Despite their estrangement, after the woman said “We need you” she immediately accepted and grabbed her bag, buying the first plane tickets available to her, letting Emily know where she was going. Once she was on the plane she realized she did not even know why she had been summoned by her old team.

“Catch me up.” Were the first words that she said to the people in front of her.

She wanted to say hello and maybe even hug them, but as soon as she saw them she knew she had to get down to business.

His voice came out so broken, so hurt that she couldn’t help but want to hug him how she used to. It had been almost five years since she last saw him, but underneath his longer hair, and his very visible facial hair and his overwhelmingly sad eyes, was the man she once loved. “It’s Maeve, she’s been kidnapped.” That phrase returned her to the present. “You are the best when it comes to stalker cases and I can’t even make a coherent thought, please help us.” She nodded, as if they didn’t already know she would do anything in her power for any of them, but especially the brunette.

She forced herself to not draw parallels between his situation and the night she lost her husband, but it was impossible not to, especially when she knew that everything was lost. They entered the warehouse after they heard the gunshot, to find them at odds. Spencer begging to take Maeve’s place and the woman holding his wife hostage questioning how much he was willing to give up for her. Too late she realized what was going to happen, too late did she aim and shoot, too late to change any outcome but the one in front of their eyes. Her shot was wasted, landing on the wall directly behind the woman who now laid on the floor, covered in her and Reid’s wife's blood, both of them gone. She couldn’t bear to look at him, knowing she couldn’t stop her, knowing it was her fault Spencer’s wife was dead.

She couldn’t say goodbye and she couldn’t look him in the eye every again, so she sent a simple text to Hotch:

I got a case, I had to leave. Tell Reid I am really sorry.

That was it, no goodbye, no see you guys later, no hugs, and no catching up. She should have stayed home, she shouldn’t have gone knowing what she causes, once again she was reminded of the luck she carried around, affecting those she loved.

“It is not your fault!” Emily said.

“Of course it is, they needed me. Spencer and Maeve needed me, and I failed them.” She couldn’t stop the tears for much longer, but she tried.

“No, you didn’t you did everything you could.”

“Did I? Did I really? Because that’s what I tell myself every time I look at this ring and remember sitting in a restaurant wondering why he’s not there while he was dead. That’s what I told myself when I fired my gun too late to stop the woman even though I knew exactly what she was going to do.”

“Stop it! Stop blaming yourself for things you cannot control!” Emily stood from her chair, the frustration clear in her eyes. “I will not watch the closest friend I have throw a self-pity party when she knows full well these things are not something that our luck creates. There are sick people in this world, and you can’t keep blaming yourself for any of it! I will not allow you to!” After that, the woman left and the tears fell.

It had been at least three weeks since that discussion, Emily and she had made up but her friend had to go into hiding once again, knowing full well that the level of exposure she had because of their friendship could put her in danger, making her yet another person she couldn’t help. There was a knock at the door, and she presumed it was the woman mentioned, excited she opened the door to be faced with a tall brown-haired man with sad brown eyes and a satchel that she knew too well.

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Hotch made me take time off, and I didn’t want to be alone… I didn’t know where to go and I just… I ended up here.”

“Oh.”

“Can I come in?”

She questioned it for a moment, not sure how she could deny him anything but also afraid of how her guilt would get the best of her. “Sure.” She said finally and moved, letting Spencer Reid enter her home like she had done so many times before, and yet this time it felt different. Her house was never the same after her husband was gone, their pictures still stayed, some in the coffee table and bookshelf, one of their wedding pictures in their room and album upon album he had made for their home once they had moved in together. Her new home gave a different feeling than her small impersonal apartment in Washington D.C. that had no pictures and barely enough evidence that someone lived there. She knew if it were up to her, the house would be the same, but Liam made sure this house felt like home. Now that he was gone it felt hollow and cold, not something she thought Spencer needed in his current state. “I am sorry I didn’t go to the funeral. I had to come back.” She absurdly excused herself.

“It’s okay, I understand.” There was a silence that engulfed them as she offered him a seat in her living room. “I don’t blame you.” He clarified and she nodded, not sure how that made her feel. “I also don’t think you should blame yourself.”

“Please stop, don’t profile me right now.” That gained a laugh from him, as he raised his hands in surrender. As he looked around realization hit her. He had no idea she was married, or that Emily Prentiss was, in fact, alive. She quickly texted her telling her friend that the man was in the city and to be careful. She knew it was probably safe, that she was already long gone but she couldn't be too cautious.

“You texting your…?” He looked at her hand, noticing the ring for the first time and she fought the urge to hide it. It somehow felt like a betrayal to him, her getting married after telling him that wasn’t something she was ready for. “Did you have that when you went to D.C.?”

“Yes.” She answered quicker than she hoped. “I’ve had it for a couple of years.” He nodded as if contemplating and analyzing her answer. “And I was not texting my husband, just a friend from work.”

“Oh.” He looked at her as if asking for permission before speaking. “Is he at work?” She shook her head no. “I didn’t interrupt you guys or anything, right? That would be so embarrassing… I can’t believe I didn’t even consider… I am so sorry I-“

“Spencer.” She stopped his rambling; she took a deep breath before she continued. “My husband, Liam, is not here.” She explained. Part of her didn’t want to talk about it, he had enough heartache of his own, but she felt compelled to. She never could hide anything from the genius. “He died in a raid about a year ago.” She said as her hand instinctively moved to her ring.

“I am so sorry.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I know.”

“I-“ He paused for a moment, looking for something else to say, but then what he really wanted to know escaped his thoughts. “Does it get better?”

“I want to say yes. I want to tell you one day you stop missing them and it seems like the sun shines as bright again, but I haven’t gotten there.” A sad smile played on her lips. “I can’t even get myself to take his close out of the closet.”

“Yeah, I can’t look at her parents in the eye.”

“I haven’t spoken to his mother since the funeral.”

“We were trying to have kids.”

That was enough to break the mental boundaries she had. Despite how wrong she knew it was she hugged him, tight, hoping he understood that she wanted him to be okay, that he had her on his side even if that meant nothing to him.

“Sometimes, talking about them helps.” She said once she let go of him, his hand now in between hers. “I didn’t really get to know Maeve; I would love to hear about her.”

And so they sat there, sharing the stories of yet another loss love, the irony never lost on her. The one person she relied on to talk about Liam, the one person to fully understand how she felt was no other than her first love. She let aside the guilt and accepted the comfort and help he provided, even after he went back to Washington, and she remained in France. They still talked, almost daily. Letters, emails—despite him hating emails—and calls. Soon enough it was like they never lost touch like their past relationship never was and they were two friends who lost the person they loved and found comfort within each other.

And after two years she realized that her heart raced every time her phone rang, a tad of guilt for the idea of falling for the brunette while she still wore the wedding ring her late husband had given her. She considered putting it away, she considered telling Spencer what she was feeling once again but the fear stopped her. She couldn’t ruin something so important, she couldn’t sabotage their friendship, but she knew what it was like to be loved by Spencer Reid, and boy did she want to feel that way again. It took her weeks to decide what she was going to do, but before she had a chance to execute her plan, her keeping of Emily’s secret came back to haunt her.

“You knew?!”

“She came to Paris, and she found me.”

“And you never thought to mention it?”

“Emily was long gone into hiding when you and I reconnected.”

“That is not an excuse.”

“It wasn’t my place Spencer.”

“It never is your place, is it?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just that with you I always know what I am getting into, but I am always stupid enough to fall for it. I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

“I wasn’t the one who looked for you!” She spat, trying to hide the effect his words had on her. “Do not make this my fault!”

“I’m not.” His voice was harsh, like that day it all went wrong for the first time. “It’s my fault. For trusting you, for thinking we could be friends. I should know better than to trust a liar.”

“Fuck you, Spencer!”

“Right back at ya!”

And with that, the two years of their rekindling were gone, and once again she watched Spencer Reid walk out of her life. Once again faced with the decision of letting him go or stopping him. As her finger hovered over the call button she froze, this time not by fear, but anger. She understood, he lost his wife and friend, he mourned their death for one of them to suddenly come back to life? It wasn’t fair to him, but it wasn’t her fault! Spencer couldn’t blame her for Emily needing to hide from them, for Emily asking JJ, Hotch, and her to keep it a secret.

I heard the conversation; I’ll talk to him.-Emily

She got ready for bed and pushed aside the feeling of guilt that wished to overwhelm her. This time it wasn’t her fault, she knew it, but she couldn’t help but wish he knew that as well. Instead, she simply responded to the message and turned off her phone.

Don’t bother, it’s not worth the trouble. Love you Em!

Doctor Spencer Reid was a force much too big for her heart and mind to handle. As much as she wished he could stop having such a big influence in her life, she highly doubted that would ever happen, so the least she could do was try and forget their conversation.

Despite her previous determination, she still hoped he would call, say that he was sorry and he didn’t mean those things then she could simply accept his apology, apologize for her language and everything would go back to normal. But as the days turned to weeks and those to months she decided she couldn’t be at this crossroad waiting for him anymore. She could either let him go for good or finally step up and speak to him. The idea of never speaking to him, never hearing him laugh or seeing him smile again, never saying his name, or hearing hers out of his mouth was too much for her to simply move on. She loved Spencer Reid, maybe a part of her always would. She couldn’t let herself stay put while he moved on, not again. They were no longer two twenty-seven-year-olds who had their life ahead of them.

But the fear struck again, she couldn’t lose him too. She couldn’t sit in a restaurant waiting for him just to be greeted by the news that he was no longer in this world. She couldn’t build a home with someone when she had barely taken down all of Liam’s things from their closet. She couldn’t, but part of her wanted to build something with the doctor. That same part of her that screamed at her to follow him the first time. This time she decided to listen to it. She painfully removed the ring in her hand and placed it in the top box, all full of the memories of the man she intended to spend her life with, hoping he would understand. She let a couple of tears fall, knowing that he would always hold a place in her heart, and she made her way to the US. If this backfired and she ended up heartbroken, she could always return to her empty home in Paris. When had reality gotten so dark that she would seek Paris as a place of emptiness? A place to ignore her broken heart until it mended? Life had a funny way of making the things we wished for a twisted reality.

She sighed as she prepared herself to walk up the stairs. She had reached out to JJ, who had given her his address. It was the same place he used to have, as apparently after his wife’s passing he had sold their house. How did he gather the strength to let go of something as meaningful as the home he shared with Maeve? She would never know, but she was proud he continued to try living his life. She knocked and the door opened soon after his gaze confused, and this feeling later replaced by embarrassment.

“Hello, Spencer.” Her mouth was dry, the speech she had prepared long forgotten, fear running through her veins telling her to simply forget all this and run. Return to France and pretend the man in front of her never existed. “Can we talk?” She said as she noticed he hadn’t said a word.

“Yes, um, yeah… come in.” He moved and she did as she was told. “Listen, I was trying to work up the courage to call you, I am sorry I spoke to you like that.” He began as soon as he closed the door.

“Did you mean it?”

“What I said to you that day? No, never!”

“It had to come from somewhere, did it not?”

“Yes, it came from a part of that felt betrayed.” He looked around his apartment, avoiding to meet her gaze. “The more you spoke about him, the more I felt like what we had didn’t mean anything to you, and when I found out you knew about Prentiss, it made me angry but that was because I was already mad at you, I just couldn’t bring myself to accept why.”

“Why are you angry with me?” She asked. “Because I know why I am angry with you. I’m angry because you broke my heart twice, even though I played as much of a part as you the first time. I’m angry because you waltzed right back into my life and turned it upside down. I am so angry that I can’t seem to move on and leave you behind like I wanted to when I left for Paris. I am angry that you are the reason I was finally able to take my ring off.” His eyes drifted to her hand, the mark of the band clear, but no ring in sight. “So, tell me, Spencer Reid, how did I make you angry?”

“You…” He raised his eyes, finally meeting hers, and forced the words out. “I am mad because you moved on. I am angry because you left me and didn’t look back. I am angry because I wanted a family with you and you simply decided to make one with someone else.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “I am mad because you made me hurt for you, and when I finally found someone I wanted to spend my life with, someone who loved me… She was taken from me and the only person I could talk to about it was you. I am angry because you made sure none of us even knew of Liam and then you spent hours talking about how he made you smile, and he made you happy. I am angry at you because you knew how much grief I had and still you did not tell me about Emily, I am angry because I still love you, despite all this. Because if you told me right now you wanted to be with me I would fly to Paris and never let you go again.”

“I feel guilty for loving you.”

“I feel guilty for loving you too.”

“I should have stopped you; I should have told you I was scared, but I wanted a family. I was ready, but I was scared someday someone would make you realize you could do better than me.” She sighed, the tears now leaving her eyes. “Now I am scared one day I will be at a table, on our anniversary waiting for you and someone will take you from me. I’m scared the grief I feel for Liam will consume me and I won’t be able to love you.”

“I am scared that my grief won’t let me love you either.” He gulped, approaching her for the first time and he laid his hands softly on her shoulder, tears now made both their faces wet. “I can’t walk away from you again. If Maeve taught me anything about love is that you fight for it, to the bitter end. You do not give up on it.” She sobbed, and his grip tightened in a reassuring gesture. “It doesn’t have to be today, nor tomorrow. We do not need to rush; we can take our time.”

“What if I’m too broken?”

“You aren’t. You're hurt, your heart was broken, but if it can be broken, that means it still works.”

“Spencer, I’m scared.”

“I know.”

“But I don’t want you to leave again.”

“I’m not going to.”

“Good.”

That was all she needed, the confirmation that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere. The fear subsided, the anger fell, and she embraced him, as tight as she could, and smiled as she felt him embrace her. One did not need to be a genius to know it would take time, grief and heartache take time, but both of them knew that it would get better. It always did.

As she laid beside him, in their new home, she couldn’t help but question how much time she had, how long it would be before fate, or destiny, or whoever was out there would decide to take him from her. This time, though, she didn’t let it get to her. She was married to Dr. Spencer Reid, and they were about to be parents. She smiled at the thought and got out of bed ready for the day that would change their lives forever. It had been almost five years since they spoke again, both grieving the loss of their first spouse. It had taken them three of those five years to decide to move forward and just last year they had sworn to love and protect each other in front of their friends and family. She sighed, contently. She felt her life back on track, as she returned to the BAU shortly after their engagement, selling her Paris house and opting to buy a more modest summer home. She had returned Liam’s clothing to her mother, and even some pictures, while others were in their attic. She did not mean to hide him or push him aside, but both she and Spencer decided it was best to keep them close without letting them become an obstacle in their lives together. Maeve and Liam had shown both of them how to love, how to fight for the person you want to spend your life with, and when it was okay to let go, and that was something neither of them would ever forget.

“Ready?” Her husband asked as she grabbed her car keys.

“As ready as they come, Dr. Reid.”

“What do you think it will be, a boy or a girl?” He joked.

“Very funny.” They held hands as she drove to the building, nerves, and excitement building up. Soon enough they were at no more than thirty seconds of being parents of two beautiful kids.

“I do have to say, it is rare for a couple who is already expecting to want and adopt. What made you do this?”

He looked at you, a smile full of pride and love clear on his face, knowing the answer to this question. “There are so many kids that need a home, and love. I figured if my husband and I can offer both, why not do it? Any kid deserves two loving parents and whether I gave birth to them or not shouldn’t matter.” The woman smiled at the couple.

Her two-month belly was barely barely showing, but the agency knew about it already. It was true they had decided to adopt before she found out she was expecting, but that didn’t change their plans, it simply meant another baby would join the family. The two kids, a brother, and sister about eleven and twelve joined the adults. Their nerves and fear obvious in their expression. She couldn’t help but want to hug them and never let go.

“Are you guys our new mom and dad?” The girl asked, her brother frowning at the thought.

“We are not here to replace your mom and dad.” She assured them, the frown on the boy disappearing. “We would love it for you guys to live with us, we want to take care of you if that is something you guys would like."

After a long conversation with the children and them accepting to live with the couple they made their way home, Spencer rambling about statistics on videogames as a way to excuse his lack of skill. She laughed at the sight and couldn’t help but feel complete. She smiled and turned for a second to look at him before returning her eyes to the road. “Fourteen, almost fifteen.” She mumbled to herself. Spencer looked at her with confusion. “That’s how long we’ve known each other. That’s how long I’ve dreamed of this day but was too afraid to fight for it.”

“Do you want the exact time?” He questioned.

“No. It will make me feel old.” They both laughed.

Soon they arrived in their home, their children next to them and they showed them their rooms. After having dinner together and making sure the kids felt comfortable and at home they returned to their bed and laid there, her head on his chest and his hand on her lower back. “I love you; you know that?”

“I know, and I love you too.” He left a soft kiss on her hairline.

They heard small steps and a knock, he stood and turned on the lights before opening the door, the girl in the door had fear written all over her face and her brother was behind her. “Megan doesn’t like to sleep in the dark.” He noted.

“I don’t like to sleep alone.” She corrected. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Of course sweetie!” Spencer picked her up and placed her on the bed next to her, as she moved to make space.

“Do you want to sleep with us too Dylan?” She asked the boy. He was reluctant but ultimately nodded running up to the bed and laying in between his sister and her. Spencer turned off the light. All four slept together, not once letting go of each other. It felt right, exactly where they needed to be.

The memory of the day she let him go still came from time to time, but her fear that he would leave her never did. She loved Spencer Reid, her colleague, friend, companion, husband. She loved him and he loved her. And now, now they had a family, the past made them who they were, but it didn’t have to define who they could become.

#spencer x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #cm #spencer reid fanfiction

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thaminices · 3 years

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So I just binge-watched Criminal Minds and I got obsessed again.

Jennifer Jareau and Spencer Reid are everything to me as characters.

I’ve always loved Jeid/Jencer as best friends, and I like the romantic idea of them. But I knew the show would never go there.

No I don’t want to destroy JJ family, and I don’t understand the hate about the ship. I mean it’s an universe where Hailey left Hotch and was killed in cold blood just as Maeve (Spencer Perfect Match) .

Anyway, this post is about what Rossi told Hotch about his past with Emma in episode 5x03 “Reckoner” and how this is basically JJ and Spencer.

When I first met Emma, I knew I would love her for the rest of my life.

We know Spencer had this crush on JJ since they met, and the best profiler in this show Gideon (aka Reid father’s figure) knew their potential.

She always said we were doomed to be star-crossed lovers, destined to wander, wonder what might have been

This is basically what JJ confession was about it’s what they are star-crossed lovers. It’s where the canonical story left.

I should have married her, though.

He didn’t and she married another man, who loved her so much and Emma loved him too. I don’t remember if they had kids but we can assume it was a happy marriage. (Sounds too familiar right?) I also like how Rossi pointed they didn’t sleep together.

And before I knew it, a lifetime had gone by

So many things happened with both of them, when they realized there was no coming back and things were too complicated.

#jeid #jencer #jennifer jareau #spencer reid #spencer x jj

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geniusgub · 3 years

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north//chapter twelve

genre: angst, tiny bit of fluff

pairing: season 11 and 12 spencer reid x oc

warnings: panic attack

word count: 12.4k

summary: change is wonderful. but there’s some changes that are far too drastic for spencer and amelia to handle.

pay attention to the pov changes and the time jump or else you’ll be confused!!!!!! it’s about to get good.

AMELIA

Months go by, and life goes on, and that's about all I have to say about the last few months. Spencer works and I bask in the successful, metaphorical glow of my last exhibit. I do some light work here and there but mostly, I take some time off and resort to lounging around and drawing in my sketchbook. Spencer complains though because he claims that if I have all this free time then he should too. But regardless, he leaves bed every day to go to work and fight the monsters of the world.

But nobody more than me knows that things change quickly. I accepted that a long time ago and the nature of Spencer's job just reiterated that sentiment, especially after he got shot. So even though it’s a bit too overwhelming when he comes home with cuts and bruises on his face, or get upset when he misses loosely planned dates because of cases, or we disagree on where to order dinner from or if we should even order at all instead of just cooking, nothing surprises me anymore.

It doesn't surprise me when Spencer calls me from work and tells me he needs to go to Houston for a case, and that he might be gone for a while. He tells me he loves me and that he'll be home as soon as possible, to be safe, and to drink a glass of wine for him. So I tell him that he's the one who needs to be careful and remind him many times of my love, then I force him to promise that he'll be careful. He does, and I send him in his way with one more proclamation of love.

Spencer has been through a lot. He's a very strong person, and he tells me a lot, but I know he doesn't tell me everything. He only wears his heart on his sleeve when it comes to his feelings for me, but not with anything else. He's not an open book when it comes to work and the horrors he sees on a daily basis and relives in his dreams. I wish he was, but I know that part of the reason he doesn't is so he doesn't affect me. I wish he didn't think that way. I wish he could just confide in me without worrying about upsetting me.

That being said, he doesn't cry. As I lay on my couch and listen to one of the records Spencer bought me for Christmas, a glass of wine about to fall out of my hand, my eyes closed, I try to remember a time Spencer cried in front of me. I scrunch up my nose when I realize I can't think of a specific time. Well, maybe he has cried. Maybe he did in the hospital. Maybe he did when he revealed what happened with Maeve, or his drug addiction. I don't have his memory. Maybe my worries are for nothing and I don't need to waste my time worrying over him so much.

But the days pass and I hear very little from Spencer, so I distract myself with my friends. We go out and we spend nights at clubs and we congregate at someone's apartment to watch movies and it's a wonderful distraction, but it doesn't fill the void that Spencer leaves. So I often find myself leaving him quick voicemails in bathrooms and balconies and bedrooms, telling him that I hope he's safe and that I love him and to let me know when he's coming home so I can see him. I don’t ever hear back.

Friday's are normally easy and Friday's are brunch days with my friends. So I wake up and shower and dress for my day, pulling on my skirt and blouse, singing along to the records playing downstairs. I finish getting dressed and fall back into bed, reaching for my sketchbook to occupy me for another half hour until I need to leave.

"Amelia?" Spencer's voice comes through my apartment, frantic and panicked, as the door hits the brick wall and rattles the picture frames. "Baby, are you home?"

"Spencer?" I respond, and his head whips up, landing on me. He looks like an utter mess in a loose tie and disheveled suit, messenger and go-bag having already clattered to the floor. His hair can be likened to bed head and I can see from here that his eyes are red. I immediately rush down the stairs and forget everything I was just about to do. "Sweetheart, what happened?" I grab his cheeks, performing my normal routine of checking for injuries, and when I find none, I become utterly confused and even more concerned.

Spencer's lips quiver as he sniffles, but he can't hold anything back when tears start to pour down his cheeks. "I-" his hands reach for my waistline, grasping my skin and drawing me closer, "I missed you so damn much, Lia, god."

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I ask when he pulls me even closer, our bodies pressing together and I can feel his rapid heartbeat against my chest. He tucks his head into my neck as he shakes his head no, arms finally circling my waist. "Okay," I whisper, coursing my fingers through his hair, closing my eyes as I breathe in the faint scent of his cologne. "I've got you, dove. I'm right here."

It only takes a second for Spencer to break down in tears, clutching my body like his life depends on it. Hearing his whimpers and feeling his shaking form breaks my heart, but I hold it together, rubbing him back, petting his hair, cooing in his ear, and telling him everything will be okay. His knees eventually give out so I lower us to the floor, landing in a weird position where I'm half in Spencer's lap while he cries in my neck. But neither of us seem to pay any mind to the fact that we're on the floor in the middle of my apartment. I just hold him and mutter sweet nothings and cheesy nicknames and pray to myself that he's okay.

"Spence, my love, can you talk to me? Can you tell me what's going on?" I whisper, trying to keep my voice low. I know that whenever I'm needing his comfort, his calm and low voice always helps me, so I try to provide the same for him. "I'm right here, sweetheart, talk to me," Spencer hiccups a few times as he lifts his head, and I reach forward to wipe his tears. "Take a breath, love. Just breathe, you're okay, I'm right here.”

Spencer squeezes his eyes shut and grasps at my thighs, and his head hanging forward. "I-" he takes a long, shallow breath, "you were clearly about to go out. Don't let me interrupt you."

I scoff out a laugh, shaking my head and pressing a kiss to his. He leans into my touch in a way that nearly makes me swoon. "Absolutely not, I'm not leaving you like this. You were on a case, is this about the case?"

Spencer nods slowly, keeping his head down. "You know about the whole thing with the group of assassins we've been hunting? The dirty dozen?"

"The people who've been targeting Penelope?" He nods again, and his hands tighten around my thighs. "Nothing happened to her, right?"

"No, no," Spencer finally lifts his head and sniffles again, wiping his cheeks with the heel of his hand, "she's fine. Actually, she's finally able to go home now because of this case."

"Okay, tell me what happened. Something must have happened if you're crying," I put my hands on top of his and brush my thumbs over his knuckles, hoping to bring him extra comfort. He brings them against his chest, allowing me to feel it rise and fall a little too quickly for liking.

Spencer gulps. "I had to pose as a married man who wanted his pregnant wife killed so I could lure the last hitwoman out of hiding so we could capture her. We'd gotten everyone else, it was just her. She was so smart and she saw through the whole thing. She knew my ring was fake right off the bat. She set a timer on my phone and was asking me all these questions about me and how we found her and about me and my family and-"

"Your family?"

"After she got rid of my ring, she asked if I had a girlfriend and I said no and somehow, she believed me. And then she was telling me that the only person who would actually date me would be a brat and an idiot."

“I mean, I guess it’s up for debate but I wouldn’t categorize myself as either of those things.”

Spencer giggles, just a little bit, but a joyful noise nonetheless, and that’s enough for right this second. "Then it turns out that she had a partner in the restaurant the whole time who had rigged bombs in the basement. She threatened to kill all these innocent people if I didn't let her walk free, but I couldn't do either of those things." He's getting worked up again and his eyes are tearing up and his breathing is shallowing and it just breaks my heart.

"Bub," I whisper, squeezing his hands, "breathe, okay? You're here now, you're okay."

Spencer lets out a heavy breath that sounds painful. But he squeezes my hands tighter and continues. "The only way I could throw her off her game was by lying to her. Her father had, um," Spencer glances up at me with a nervous look in his eye, "killed her mother when she was young and she was fostered," oh, that's why he was hesitant to say that, "and I had to tell her that I went looking for her father and that I found him and he just didn't recognize her, but that wasn't true. I couldn't find him at all. But then when Morgan moved in to take her down, he lied and told her that her father was at the restaurant and I just-” he shutters, “it was so horrible. I was so scared. She had a gun on me the whole time and I've had guns pointed at me so many times but I knew she wanted to shoot me and I knew she hated me and I knew she would have no problem killing me at any time. It was- god, it was so horrible."

I scoop Spencer into my arms again as he collapses into a new fit of sobs, body trembling. "Spence, I'm so sorry. But you did the right thing. Just think about Penelope. She's safe now, right? She can go home now and she can sleep peacefully knowing that there aren't hitmen coming for her and that you helped take them down. That hitwoman is in prison and you won't have to see her ever again. Now you're here with me and you're safe, okay?"

Spencer doesn't answer. He just lets me hold him and whisper in his ear and part of me hates that he's not talking. He shuts himself off and just barely hears what I’m saying, and only reacts when I touch his hair. He doesn’t return any verbal or physical expressions of love, not that I’m the one who needs them right now, but he just lays limp in my arms and whimpers like a kicked puppy.

"Hey," I whisper, pulling him up a bit and holding his face in my hands, "why don't you go change your clothes and maybe take a shower, if you want, and then come back down? Maybe you'll feel a little better."

Spencer nods and pushes himself up. Without another word, he grabs his two bags and trudges up the stairs to my bedroom, and just a moment later, I hear the bathroom door open and then the shower running.

With a heavy sigh, I locate my phone and text my friends to tell them I won't be making it to brunch. I don't bother to wait for their inevitably irritated responses before tucking my phone away, rushing around my apartment. I find the basket I'm looking for and then snatch the blanket from the back of the couch. I toss food and snacks and drinks into the basket, listening carefully to the running shower upstairs. When I've assembled everything I need, I take a seat on the island and wait for Spencer to be done in the shower.

It's almost half an hour before Spencer comes strolling down the stairs in jeans, a tee-shirt, and his converse. His work attire and weekend attire have too much of a layover, in my opinion. He’s always wearing his trousers and cardigans, occasionally a blazer. I’ve only gotten the pleasure of seeing him in jeans and a tee-shirt a handful of times, so despite the fact that he's the one with the fancy memory, I try to commit the sight to memory.

He's running his fingers through his wet and growing curls when he enters the kitchen, furrowing his eyebrows. "What's all this?"

"We, my dove," I quip, reaching my hands out for him, "are going on a picnic."

Spencer's eyebrows pitch up while he half-heartedly puts his hands in mine and steps closer to me, standing between my legs. "A picnic? Where? On the balcony?"

"No, silly," I giggle, leaning forward to kiss his nose. It makes him scrunch up his nose in the most adorable way. "We're gonna go to the park. It's nice out today and it's rare that I get to have you home during the day so let me cheer you up. Just- humor me, okay?"

Spencer glances beside me at the basket and the blanket, then back at my pouting face. He sighs, resigned. "Okay, sure."

"Good," I grin, leaning forward to press my lips to his briefly. “Let's go before it gets too late."

Spencer grabs the basket and helps me off the island, leaving me to grab the blanket. I lock up my apartment and we head off, walking hand in hand, silence looming over us. We would both usually attempt to fill the silence on a walk, but this time, it feels appropriate. We let the silence exist and distract ourselves by swinging our hands between us. I’m content with it though and I can only hope Spencer is too. I can only hope the silence isn’t letting Spencer get lost in his thoughts.

We finally reach the park and pick a spot to set up, using our shoes to hold down the edges of the blanket before taking our seats. We unload the basket and pass snacks to each other, avoiding the wine I brought, just in case we wanted to let loose. But this clearly isn’t the time for alcohol. So I work on my pretzels and watch a little boy giggle as he flies a kite with his mom.

"So, um," Spencer eventually hums, staring down at the container of walnuts in his hand, "I actually, um, I lied to you."

My hands freeze when they reach for a water bottle, my eyebrows raising. "Excuse me?"

Spencer lets out a breath. He reaches for a walnut but doesn't eat it, and just swirls it between his fingers. "I did go to Houston but it wasn't for a case. I went to see my mom. I asked Garcia to cover for me if you asked or went to the office."

"Why'd you have to lie about that? Is she okay? Spence, I could've gone with you.”

"I know, I should've told you and I feel bad that I didn't but I just wanted to deal with it myself."

"So what happened? Something happened. I can tell. What happened?"

The walnut in his hand slips out and falls onto the blanket, and now that his distraction is gone, he hangs his head again. "I got a call from the facility and they said the medication they were giving her wasn't working anymore. She was agitated and angry and they wanted me to go see her. So I went and when I went into her room, for three seconds-" he lets out a shaky breath and I find myself wondering if he even has any more tears to fall, but I quickly get that answer, "she had no idea who I was. So I had her tested and I found that night that she has an early onset of dementia."

I'm speechless for a moment, just processing that heavy information. I surely don't know as much as Spencer does but I know that this is not apart of schizophrenia. I've never heard stories of Diana not know her own son. I’ve never seen him so upset after a visit with his mom. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this intensely sad. Usually, if he’s upset from a case, I can spend an hour or two distracting him and then I’ll be blessed with seeing his smile again. But after this, I don’t know if he’ll ever smile.

"Oh, Spencer," I lurch forward and hug him for what seems like the millionth time, but he doesn't make an effort to hug me back. His arms hang loosely at his side and he just noses at my neck, not even caring enough to kiss me or hug me or touch me at all. "Love, I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry you had to go through that alone. I don’t know what to say other than I’ll be here for you and Diana and I’m always gonna be here to help you if you want it."

Spencer still doesn't respond and he still doesn't hug me back. So I let go and drop my arms to my side, chewing on my lip. I want to comfort him. I want to help. But he seems so lost in his own head, and that's the most dangerous place to be lost in. I know what it’s like to be trapped in your head with your thoughts, and I know Spencer does too, and it’s not a nice place to be. But I have no idea what I’m doing and I have no clue how to help him.

My eyes stray from his to the park around us. There are kids running around and dogs on leases and people going on runs. It's a stunning day out, and when my eyes linger up to the sky, squinting at the sun, I smile. I shift my body and lay down on my back, reaching back to rest my hand on Spencer's knee as I stare at the vast color that seems to match my eyes, or so I've been told.

"I think," I say softly, pointing upwards, "that one looks like a dinosaur." The clouds roll along in the sky and I study each of them quickly, searching for distinguishable shapes that I can point out. "And that one kinda looks like, well, I was gonna say an alien but now it looks more like a turtle," In the corner of my eye, I see Spencer tilt his head up to stare up at the sky. "And that one," I point to a passing cloud, "looks like a hat."

Spencer grabs the hand that is resting on his knees and intertwines our hands before laying down beside me. "I still don't get it. They're just clouds,"

"Then tell me about the clouds," I quip, letting my head fall onto his shoulder. "Educate me."

“Well, there are three main types of clouds. Cumulus, stratus, and cirrus. Stratus clouds are flat and featureless, like layered sheets. Cumulus clouds are puffy. Cirrus clouds are thin and wispy and are usually high in the sky.”

Spencer surely educates me. He goes on and on about the different types of clouds and the variations of them, and which produces the most rainwater and which form the fastest. I think he talks for close to half an hour, going on and on with his beautiful voice about something I never really give a second thought to. But I stare straight up and barely move a muscle, keeping my head on his shoulder and my hand laced in his.

"I talked for a while," Spencer chuckles as his lecture comes to an end, and he twists his neck to kiss my forehead. "Sorry."

"I enjoyed it. Can't say I'll remember it, but I like hearing you talk," I smile, turning to capture his lips in a kiss. "But I think that one looks like a lamp."

"I still don't see any pictures," Spencer sighs, returning his gaze up to the sky.

"That's okay. You will one day. It takes practice," I pause, squinting my eyes. "That's definitely a car. Like, a pickup truck," I reach my free hand over and grab Spencer’s cheeks, twisting his head for him at the passing cloud. Cumulus, I think. “There. That’s the pickup truck.”

"Thank you for taking my mind off everything," Spencer whispers, and his head breaks free from my grasp to look over at me. My hand drops to his chest. "I don't know what I'd do without you. I think I'd go crazy. I truly don't know what I did before you and I don't know what I'd do if you-"

"You-" I cut him off before he can even finish his sentence, "don't have to worry about living without me because I'm not going anywhere. That's a camera, no doubt."

Spencer laughs, returning his gaze up. "Whatever you say, beautiful."

“You know,” I drag my hand down to his stomach and brush my thumb over the soft fabric of his shirt, “this might sound a little stupid. But the day we met, when I left my apartment for the cafe, when I looked up, there was a cloud in the shape of a heart. And I don’t know why but I just knew it would be a good day. Is that stupid?”

“No, it’s not stupid,” Spencer says. “Actually, if we were characters in a fiction novel, that heart cloud could be considered an objective correlative. That’s a symbol or event or group of things that are meant to represent emotions in the story. So in a movie, it could be thunder and lightning before a bad event or feeling a chill go down your spine. Or the cloud could be considered foreshadowing, even though foreshadowing doesn’t exist in real life. And if it does then it’s just a coincidence. Yeah, I guess for you it would’ve been a coincidence. A good coincidence. An accurate one because, you know, you kinda fell in love after you saw the heart cloud.”

It's my turn to look at him now, and I study the curve of his nose, his jawline, the outline of his lips. He's stunning. The sun illuminates his features, even the sweat gathering at his hairline, and I can’t remember a time when I was this utterly, wholeheartedly in love with him. With everything about him. The good and the bad. "Spence, I know it doesn't seem like it, but everything is gonna be okay," I whisper, moving closer to him, nuzzling my nose against his neck while his arm wraps around my waist. "And even if it's not, I'm gonna be right here, holding your hand and staying by your side the entire time. I'm not going anywhere. You can't get rid of me. No way."

"I wouldn't want to," Spencer quips, moving his arm around my waist. "I love you too much."

"I love you too. Come here," I sit up just a bit and draw his lips closer to mine, letting my eyes flutter closed. "Everything is gonna be okay, dove.”

///

ABOUT SIX MONTHS LATER

///

"Ow! Fuck, Spencer! That's way too hot!"

"Then turn it down."

"Well, my hands are a little tied right now."

"That's not my fault."

"It kinda is your fault because you made the stove too hot!"

Spencer laughs and comes up behind me, his arms circling my waist, resting his chin atop my head. "I'm sorry. You know cooking and baking aren't my forte."

I send Spencer a sharp look over my shoulder, huffing. "You're so lucky you're cute."

He rolls his eyes and then moves beside me, gently grabbing my wrist. "Let me see," he pulls my hand from under the running cold water to inspect my finger. "It's fine, just a little red."

"I know," I smile as Spencer brings my pointer finger up to his lips to lay a sweet kiss on my skin. "You're just so adorable."

"I try," Spencer shrugs innocently, making me laugh. "Okay, let's finish chocolate covering these strawberries and get them in the freezer."

I hum in agreement and move back to the stove, the heat setting now turned down by Spencer, post finger burning. So I reach over Spencer and grab another strawberry and dip it into the chocolate before setting it onto the wax paper. Once we've run out of strawberries, Spencer puts the tray in the freezer. I go skipping into his living room and curl up on the couch, turning on the tv and waiting for him to arrive.

It's only a minute before he's curling up beside me, pulling me into his arms and kissing my cheek. "It's amazing you didn't get called into work today," I say. "I guess since you had to miss our birthdays and Halloween this year, the serials killers decided to let us celebrate our two year anniversary together."

Spencer laughs as he pulls me even closer to his chest, placing a kiss on the top of my head. "I'm glad they did. I mean, I wish they let us spend every day together but I'm glad they let today be an exception."

I settle my head against Spencer's chest and keep my eyes on whatever's playing on the tv, brushing my fingers up and down his arm aimlessly. He hums contently and a smile comes to my face. These moments of quiet are rare. And getting to have these moments on days like today, our two-year anniversary, are few and far between. We have to take advantage of them while we can.

"Hey," Spencer whispers, "I've got a question." I hum in response, flickering my eyes up to him for a moment. "So, you know, you're always spending your time here and I'm always spending my time at your apartment," I immediately look back up at him, already understanding what he's about to ask. "We're always together so doesn't it just make sense that, you know, we live together?" He raises his eyebrows, then sucks his bottom lip between his teeth out of anxiousness. "We always make a point to get together when I'm home, and I know you sometimes stop by here when I'm away on cases. We should- doesn't it make sense? We'd get to see each other more."

My grin spreads across my face as I tackle him to his back, squeezing his waist. "Spencer, that sounds perfect. I'd absolutely love to move in with you."

"Seriously? You'd actually wanna buy a house with me?"

"Of course!" I giggle, bringing my hands to his jawline, holding his face in front of me. "Why do you think I’ve stuck around so long? Yes, Spencer, of course I do," He attacks me with kisses, quickly lifting me up and carrying me towards his bedroom. "Dove, the strawberries-"

"I don’t want the strawberries right now. I want you."

It was silly of me to expect that moment to last forever. Our second year together was amazing. Well, as amazing as it could have been. Spencer hunts the worst people in society and parts of him break every day and I start a new exhibit, but we still meet up when we can and hold each other and make each other laugh and cook and look at clouds (with only me describing shapes) and just comfort each other. It was completely foolish of me to expect that happiness bubble not to burst.

Spencer doesn't like change and that's not hard to tell. The change of dating me was hard enough for him and I've learned that it was hard for him to get used to a new daily routine with another person in it. But then the BAU team changes and that almost makes Spencer spiral. Alex Blake left a while ago and Spencer was crushed, and then Kate came and he loved her. But then she left to have a baby. Then Morgan went through a trauma and decided to leave to protect Savannah and his baby. He lost Morgan and then soon lost Hotch.

Hotch was targeted by a serial killer that I only know by the name of Mr. Scratch. He sounds horrible, especially since he captured Hotch and drugged him, then tried to get him to kill his team. Then there was a prison break that sounded absolutely terrifying and made me almost spiral when I heard about it, and Mr. Scratch escaped. And the first thing he did? Stalk Hotch and his son. Hotch decided to leave the team in the hands of Emily Prentiss, who I've learned is an old team member who left to work for Interpol after a very complicated sequence of events, and entered Witness Protection to keep Jack safe. Spencer learned so much from Hotch and looked up to him, so losing the unit chief was a huge hit. It was a hit for everyone on the team, but this huge change meant creating another new routine.

Although losing those valued team members was horrible and stressful, they gained amazing replacements. Tara, Emily, Luke, and Stephen are amazing profilers who jumped into the BAU pool with both feet in, and the rest of the team appreciated that. They give their all to the team and together, they're taking down the escaped serial killers who got away during the Rawdon prison break.

But then Spencer starts to get some phone calls. It started out as one, interrupting a late-night dinner date on the balcony after Spencer got home from a case. He didn't think much of it at first, not even going inside to his apartment to talk privately. Turns out, his mother wasn't reacting well to the new trial he just got her into. Spencer didn't take this news well and our dinner was ruined. He stormed inside and spent the rest of the night at his desk, reading the same stack of books about experimental medicine over and over. I cleaned up our plates and went home. That's when I first started to see him pull away from me. From life. From everyone.

The calls became more frequent after that and the books piled up on his desk. The dinner dates and the hookups and the mid-case phone calls stopped, and our before-work cafe dates have been completely nonexistent. Spencer put every ounce of free time he had into helping his mother and her condition, and I had to respect that so I didn't say anything. I let him research experimental medicine and do all the fancy doctor things that I'll never understand, and I just kept my focus on my art.

He decides to go out and visit her and insists I don't come, that he can do it alone. I try so hard to convince him, but he doesn't budge. So I concede and he takes a week off of work to go, and I practically lock myself in my studio. My friends come by and I keep my concerns about Spencer to myself, but then I rant when it's only Jenna around. She's confused too, understandably, but offers no valid advice. I don't blame her, if the roles were reversed, I wouldn't have a clue what to say. And when Jenna asks me if we've found a house that we like yet, I tell her that we haven't even started looking yet. Spencer has been too occupied with more important things.

When Spencer returns, a selfish thought comes to mind. I think maybe everything has been solved. I think that maybe all those hours Spencer spent ignoring me and focusing on his mom and researching experimental medicine have paid off and he's solved world hunger and now his mom is cured. It's absolutely horrible. It's maybe the worst thing I've ever thought. No, it's definitely the worst thing I've thought. But am I wrong for wanting things to go back to the way they were? Am I wrong for wanting my boyfriend back? No. Yes? I'm not sure. But all I know is that I'm worn down and no amount of wine can distract me.

When Spencer returns, he sits me down. And when he sits me down, I know my selfish thought was too selfish. My selfish thought made karma come back to bite me in the ass. He's got a solemn look on his face and he's not holding my hand or touching me at all, he barely even wanted to kiss me when he showed up at my apartment.

"So," Spencer sighed, running his hand through his grown-out hair, "um, the clinical trial that my mom is in isn't helping. She's not getting better." I had raised my eyebrows, waiting for him to get to the horrible and dark, inevitable punchline. "I'm gonna bring her here to live with me."

My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, eyebrows turning in. "What?"

Spencer groaned, burying his face in his hands. "She isn't getting better but whenever I go to visit, she seems to be fine. So I'm gonna bring her back here with me and she's gonna live with me. I'm gonna hire a nurse to watch her while I'm away on cases."

"Spencer, that's-" I let out a breath, tangling my hands on my hair. "I love you and you know that but I really don't think this is a good idea. Maybe this trial isn't helping her but another might. Find something close to here so you can see her more often but taking care of her yourself is going to be so hard. I don't think you realize what-"

"I've made up my mind, Lia," Spencer said stubbornly, as if ending the conversation there. "I've spent too long away from my mom and I don't want to anymore. She always feels better around me and I want her to get better already."

"Spencer." Just speaking his name made my heart hurt because I could feel the foundation under us crumbling. I could see it crumble when he doesn’t soften at the sound of his name from my mouth. That used to always happen. "This is a bad idea. Please reconsider. You're so busy with work already and then you're gonna go home and have to take care of your mother. You're not gonna have time to see me, or Henry and Michael and Hank, or do literally anything else. Spence," the selfish thoughts came back, "I'm sorry to be like this but you asked me to move in with you."

Spencer sighed, and that was all I needed. I stood from his couch and he quickly followed me to the door where I had already started pulling on my shoes. "Amelia, please. I know I asked you to move in with me but she's my mother and I can't abandon her-"

"She needs professional help!" I exclaimed, whipping around to face him. "You went through this pain when you were eighteen and you're gonna force yourself to go through it yet again when you don't even have to. Hey, Spencer, did you notice I got a new piercing?" I pointed to my ear and watched his face fall. "Yeah, I got my tragus pierced. But you've been so caught up in this experimental medicine thing that you haven't even noticed that. Just imagine how much more time you won't have when your mom starts living with you."

Spencer shook his head at me, just tucking his hands in his pockets and staring down at his shoes. "You're not listening to me." And then I left.

We didn't talk much after that. I texted him to make sure he was doing okay during his cases and got minimal responses. He eventually told me that he found a nurse to take care of Diana, and that he'd be traveling to Houston to take his mother out of the trial. It was surely the worst decision for Diana, but I guess I have to support my boyfriend.

So after Diana is settled into Spencer's apartment as much as she can be, I head over. She knew who I was right away from the two times I'd met her before, and Spencer and I were both surprised about that. I expected her to not recognize me and Spencer expected her to accuse me of being a spy. I didn't fully understand that, but when he explained how Diana had accused the nurse of being just that, it made sense. Kind of. I don't know how Spencer couldn't see it, but Diana didn't seem comfortable in his little apartment. Or maybe he did see it and just ignored it because he liked having her so close after so long.

Exactly what I predicted happened. I barely saw Spencer for two weeks and in the few times that we got to text, I found out that Diana wasn't doing well at all. She flooded the apartment and ran out the first nurse and now Spencer couldn't go on a case until he found a new nurse. She hated the taste of her medicine, which is odd because I've never found that pills have much of a taste unless you hold them in your mouth too long, and didn't want to take it. But Spencer is a hardass about medicine. I know that from experience when he complained I wasn't taking medication for my panic attacks.

But eventually, Spencer finds a wonderful nurse named Cassie who agrees to work with them and Spencer goes off on a case, and I accept that I'll never get to see him again. We text occasionally but I haven't heard his voice in weeks and we haven't gone on a proper date in maybe months and god knows we haven't had sex in forever. All those selfish thoughts return to make me feel like a horrible person, but am I horrible? Diana needs to be in a care facility, not her son’s apartment where he leaves every few days, and with a stranger who Diana believes is a spy.

I was completely ignorant to believe that our happiness bubble wouldn’t pop. No, the harsh beginning of our relationship would prove that no happiness lasts. We couldn't even get through a year without something tragic happening.

And it sounds so horrible, but at this point, I'm incapable of creating my own happiness. I need Spencer to be happy. I need him to be able to enjoy my tea in the morning. I need him to enjoy watching The Polar Express. I need him to find shapes in the clouds. I need him to make my spontaneous trips to the BAU to see Penelope. I need him so I can be happy. It's codependent and maybe it's toxic but he's my whole world. He's the reason I live and breathe.

///

SPENCER

///

I'm good at holding myself together. I'm good at putting on a smile and helping others before I help myself. It's become a skill of mine over the years, and maybe one that I shouldn't be so good at. But it is and I pride myself on not alarming my teammates when anything is wrong. But stalking cases are a whole other story. I do my best to keep up my world-class poker face when I see that the object of the unsubs affection is a brunette with bangs, but it proves to get harder and harder throughout.

I commend myself for keeping it together. I commend myself for keeping it together when the unsub kidnaps the brunette after we arrive. I commend myself for keeping it together when we witness the unsub send a bullet through the brunette's head. I commend myself for keeping it together as I slap handcuffs on the unsub and shove him in the backseat of a car. I even manage to keep it together through questioning from the whole team. Emily, Rossi, Luke, Tara, JJ, Stephen, and Garcia all ask me if I'm doing okay. Seriously, even the new people. I promise I'm fine. It was a while ago, I tell them, I'm fine.

I should be proud of myself for keeping it together until I get back to the hotel. I keep it together through the wrap-up interviews with the unsub and the goodbye with the local police, ignoring the images that are circling in my brain, now adding another set of images to resurface when I wish they never would.

I don't break down until I'm lying in my hotel room bed. It doesn't happen at first. I just lay down and stare at the ceiling and then my eyes start to burn and then suddenly, there are tears dripping down my cheeks. And as soon as one tear falls, there's a waterfall that follows.

I reach into my pocket and rip out my phone, searching for Amelia's number. I'm blinded by my own tears but I hiccup and hold the phone up to my ear, curling up on my side, ignoring the way I feel so uncomfortable in my trousers and converse and way-too-tight tie. After the phone rings twice, I accept that she's not going to answer, but then she does, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me.

"Hi," she answers softly, and then pauses. "Spencer, what's wrong? What happened? You're crying."

"I know you're mad at me," I cry helplessly, squeezing my eyes shut, "but I really need you right now."

"Of course. I’m right here," she answers in her beautiful, sweet, calming voice. "What do you need? Are you okay?"

I hiccup again, bringing my hand up to my eyes and trying to wiping my cheeks. "It was-" I sniffle, "a stalking case.”

"Oh," Amelia answers, fully understanding. "Okay, dove, do you have your medallion?"

I suddenly remember that and I sit up, hastily grabbing my messenger bag and digging it out of one of the many pockets. "Y-Yeah, I have it now."

"Good,"

"Could you pick me up? I don't wanna drive home."

"Of course. I'll be waiting when you get back."

///

The ride up the sixth floor is excruciating. I'm cramped with everyone else and I just want to go to sleep. I just want to be with my girlfriend. Emily looks over at me and smiles, but I don't bother to profile her smile. Whether it was pity or sorrow or just plain friendliness, I don't care at the moment.

I'm the first one out of the elevator when the doors slide open and my eyes wander inside and to my desk, and my feet glue to the floor. Everyone passes right by me and into the bullpen, but I just stare at the beautiful scene in front of me.

Amelia is sitting on my desk with her legs crossed, dressed in oversized sweats, which are definitely mine, with her curly hair in a bun and her glasses on. I can't blame her for her outfit choice, it is nearing midnight. But she's got her sketchbook in her lap and she's speaking to Henry who's sitting in my desk chair with a notebook in his lap, and she's clearly instructing him on how to draw something. He turns his notebook to her and she grins proudly before giving him a high five. Henry encourages her to teach him something else and they both flip their pages. Amelia leans in with her pencil in hand to show him something else.

"Hey," JJ comes from behind me and lands at my side, following my line of sight. She grins and watches the two interact perfectly, and Amelia gives Henry another high five. "You know, if we don't get a case this weekend, I'm available to go look at rings."

I just start to nod slowly, my head fuzzy with the amount of love I'm feeling for my girlfriend. We haven't been in a good place with our relationship and that's not really a secret. She isn’t happy with my choice to bring home my mom, and she's upset that she feels like her life has to suffer because of the choices I've made, and that's completely valid. But here she is, dropping everything to come and comfort her crying boyfriend at midnight on a Wednesday night, despite how upset she is with me.

So I just look down at JJ, nodding, and her smile grows as I say, "Deal."

///

AMELIA

Change can be such a beautiful thing. Change can be the thing that encourages people to start over and become a new person. A big enough change can transform a life. My life has been change after change after change that I've embraced it and welcomed it. If I don't accept something that happens so constantly in my life, where would that get me?

But sometimes change isn't good. Sometimes it's imperative that things stay the same. There are times where life is too hectic and busy and it would be detrimental for change to make an appearance. Change, then, makes life far too stressful and just plain unlivable.

I thought I'd gone through enough change since meeting Spencer. Dating an FBI agent, specifically, someone in the BAU, changes enough. But then he gets injured and he misses important dates and he works with the man who arrested my serial killer father and he brings his paranoid schizophrenic mother with dementia home to live with him. That's enough change for anyone, and Spencer hates change. I've never met a person who hates change more than him.

I've learned to keep a normal routine since I met Spencer. Well, as normal as I can. Even though I may not be doing anything in a day, I always get up and get dressed, whether Spencer is around or not. I've gotten used to not changing things and I've found the comfort in it.

I don't let today differ from my other days. I wake up in my cold, empty bed and stumble into a cold shower, washing away the throbbing between my legs and the oil on my skin. I blow dry my hair and get dressed in a white sundress that Spencer once told me is his favorite, tying half my hair back with a bow. I do my makeup and put in my piercings and clean my new piercing and go about my life, checking my phone for a text from Spencer. But all I find is groupchat texts from my friends and a text from Jenna asking me if I wanna go out tonight, so I put my phone away and go make myself a cup of tea.

My tea tastes wrong today. I've put in too much sugar and it doesn't taste right when Spencer's not making it for me, or when he's not holding my hand, or when he's not stealing kisses before rushing out the door for work. Life just isn't the same without him and I wish that he could come to his senses about his mother.

I'm halfway through my cup of tea when there's a knock at my front door. The irrational part of my brain perks up and thinks it's Spencer coming home from his trip to Houston, but the rational part of my brain knows that he would go home to his mother first. His mother comes first now. That is a change I need to get used to. Selfish.

"Coming!" I call, setting my cup of tea down on the island. I double-check to make sure I've turned off the stove and the kettle is safely moved aside before rushing to the door.

I pull open the door and instantly, my heart sinks to my feet. Seeing Penelope and JJ standing at my door would usually make me smile and pull out a bottle of wine, but today, it makes my hands sweat. I know this isn't good. I can tell it isn't good by the way JJ is staring down at the floor and by the tears stains in Penelope's makeup.

Spencer is dead. That's it. He's gone. I don't know how it happened but he's dead and gone and I'm all alone. My head starts to spin and I grip the doorknob in my hand so tight that I think I might break it off.

JJ's head pops up a moment later and she gives me a quick, tight-lipped smile and I notice her grab onto Penelope's hand. "Hi, Amelia," she says, her voice quieter than I’ve ever heard it before. "We, um, we gotta talk to you."

I gulp, my chest burning as I nod and open up the door a little bit further for them. The two step inside and even though they've been in my apartment a few times, when I was invited to ladies nights and hosted, they walk as if they're strangers. They're uncomfortable strangers who would rather be anywhere else.

I close the door and the three of us linger in the entryway. I almost regret not putting on a record this morning because the silence is choking me. Garcia is avoiding eye contact and looking around and JJ is doing something similar, but her eyes are stuck on my wall of pictures. And it seems to be the picture of Spencer and I. It was one that had taken hours to convince him to take and when I'd finally pressed the button on my camera, we were giggling relentlessly and Spencer was clinging to my side. It's one of my favorite pictures of us, which is why it's on my wall. I look at it every day and wish we could go back to that moment.

"Do you guys want a drink or anything?" I offer because I just don't know what else to say. I truly don't want to hear what they have to tell me.

Penelope turns her head back to me and shakes her head. "Um, no. No thanks."

"Amelia," JJ states, her voice sharper than I imagined. But then she brings her eyes to mine and her face softens. "Do you, um, do you wanna sit?"

"Tell me what happened to him." I sputter, bringing my hands to my hips. I'm already breaking and there are already tears in my eyes. They wouldn't be here during a work day just to tell me that Spencer is happy and healthy at work, about to get on the jet so they can go to their case.

Penelope lets out a whimper and puts her face in her hands, pulling her hand away from JJ's. JJ sighs and looks between me and her friend. "Spence is, um," she lets out a breath again and forces out whatever words are painful on her tongue, "he got arrested in Mexico. He was in a car chase with the Mexican police and then he was found with a huge amount of cocaine and heroin in his trunk, and he was high out of his mind. Emily, Rossi, and Luke went down to Mexico to investigate and they found a body and they're now charging him with drug possession with the intent to distribute, and manslaughter."

Like I said, some change is good. Changing bed sheets, changing clothes after a workout, changing your mind on a restaurant for dinner. Change is necessary for life to go on. Not change like this. I could never accept a huge change like Spencer getting arrested in a foreign country while being high. All of that is absolutely ridiculous and I almost roll my eyes when JJ tells me. But her face stays stoic and I know it's true.

Sometimes, I can feel myself getting pushed into the ground. I can feel my feet melt into the hardwood floor and I watch as the room starts to spin like a carousel. But there's no eccentric horse and no cheerful children. It's just me and my tears and my trembling knees.

"Amelia?"

There's a voice but I can't tell who's it is. Maybe it's JJ. Maybe it's Jenna. Maybe it's Penelope. Maybe it's Spencer. Maybe it's my mom. Maybe no one spoke at all. I can't even tell what's real anymore. If Spencer is high and getting arrested then we surely, must have entered a new dimension.

"He was framed, Amelia, we know it."

There's the voice again, and suddenly there's a hand on my arm, but my whole body tenses. My eyes glaze over and I can't even breathe, my chest heaving every time I try. Silent tears fall down my cheeks and I know that the longer I stand here, the more pain I feel.

But the glue under my feet has taken a liking to this specific spot of the floor and I'm stuck. So utterly stuck in this spot, in my head, in this lifetime. I can't breathe anymore. My lungs are flattened and they won't inflate.

"Amelia, you need to breathe."

I move my lips but no words come out. I'm grappling for words and gasping for words and I know what's happening but I can't stop it. Spencer always stops them. He always speaks to me in his soothing voice and waits to touch me until the nonverbal part of my attack has passed and then he hugs me up until I almost bruise.

But thinking about Spencer makes my knees buckle and I crumble to the floor, staring down at the hardwood as my tears create a puddle. I hang my head and ball my hands into fists, trying to find something to ground me but there's nothing. JJ and Penelope don't know what to do and Spencer can't magically appear to help me. They can't even call him because he's been arrested. Arrested.

My boyfriend has been arrested. My FBI boyfriend who wasn't happy to bail me out I when I was arrested for spray painting a brick wall that was public property. And now he's getting arrested for being high, being in a car chase, narcotics possession, and now murder? My boyfriend? My boyfriend who walks around with his sobriety medallion and cringes when we even see a scene on tv of someone doing drugs. This isn't him. This isn't My Spencer.

"Emily, Luke, and Rossi are with him. They said he's hazy and missing time but he's okay."

He's not okay. God, no. He won't be okay. He relapsed and once he comes down, he's going to be crushed. Absolutely pulverized. He'll never want to look at his medallion again. His medallion. Where the hell is that?

Time passes. So much time passes. It feels like forever. My hands bleed and my knees ache and my back is sore and my head starts to pound. I eventually collapse onto my side, almost curled up in the fetal position, my eyes squeezed shut. I need Spencer. I need him to hold me and to tell me he's going to be okay and to come home. Someone needs to tell me this has all been a cruel, disgusting, horrible prank.

"Amelia?" It's Penelope this time, that I know.

"Amelia, can you hear me?" And now it's JJ and she's crouching right beside me. I nod weakly and she sighs of relief. "Can I get you something? Water?" I nod again, and she goes rushing off to my kitchen.

Penelope helps me sit up again and leans me against the wall, wiping the tears from my cheeks. Her touch feels nice but it's not the same as Spencer's touch. Nothing will ever be the same.

"We're gonna save him," she whispers to me. "We're gonna prove that he was framed and we're gonna bring him home."

JJ returns with a glass of water for me and joins the two of us on the floor, crossing her legs. I sip slowly, my hands still shaking and my knees pulled up to my chest, protecting myself. My thoughts are shooting around in my head and I can't stop them.

"We've been fighting recently," I confess quietly. "Ever since he decided to bring his mom home, we have. On our anniversary, he asked me to move in with him and we agreed to buy a house, then he brought his mom home and started ignoring me. He cared more about experimental medicine than he did about me."

"That's not true," Penelope murmurs, placing her hand on my knee. "Anyone with eyes can see that Reid loved you more than himself. He'd lay down his life for you. He looks at you like you put the clouds in the sky," The statement makes my head spin quicker.

"Why don't you," JJ speaks next, "pack up some stuff and come to the BAU with us? You probably shouldn't be alone right now and you could use some company."

"Plus, we can keep you updated on Spencer when you're closer," Penelope says. "Go pack and we'll drive you."

I put the glass of water on the floor and manage to push myself to my feet. I trudge away from the girls and up the stairs to my bedroom, lugging a duffle bag out from under my bed. It almost doesn't feel real as I put a few things in the bag. It feels like someone else is controlling my body. I’m not moving like this. I’m not living in this dimension.

I make my way back down the stairs and see the two women still lingering in the doorway, not even speaking. But they give me pitiful smiles when I enter, and they don't say anything when I grab my keys and open the door. I don't clean up my water glass or my cup of tea or double-check anything. I just need to leave.

///

Stephen and Tara's heads pop up when the elevator doors open, but I keep my head high. They're profiling me, as they always are with everyone, but I don't want to give them the power to see me so broken. So I keep my face neutral as I march right past them and down the hallway, directly into an empty interview room and slam the door shut.

Maybe it's wrong of me to be so cold to the team that is doing their best to help Spencer, but I can't help it. And maybe I'm mad at him. Maybe I'm fucking furious. How could he do this? How could he go to Mexico and put his life at risk, being a federal agent and being such a big target? How could he neglect to tell me that he was leaving the country? How could he do this to his team and his mom? How could he do this to me?

"Amelia?" Tara's knocking at the door, entering before I can even say come in. "I'm just checking in on you. I'm sure you're upset. We all are."

"He's stupid," I'm not sure why that's the first thing out of my mouth, but it is. "He's a fucking idiot. I've always known that but I didn't think he'd be this stupid."

Tara sighs and leans against the wall, dropping her head and trying to stay calm and level for me. "Did you know he was going to Mexico?"

"He told me he was going to Houston to meet with a doctor, that's all," I shake my head, ripping the too-cheerful bow out of my hair and letting it fall to the floor.

"When Garcia looked into his travels, it turned out that he crossed the border three times." I can't even bother to react. My body just feels numb and no new information can get past the shield I'm putting up. "You had no idea of any of this?"

"He always told me he was going to Houston. I never would've thought he was going to Mexico. Tara," my teary eyes travel up to meet hers, "JJ and Penelope said he was framed. Who is trying to frame him?"

Tara grabs a chair from the table a few feet over and sits in front of me. "Did Spencer ever tell you about someone named Mr. Scratch?"

"Him? I thought he was going after Hotch."

"He's coming after all of us. He came after me, he kidnapped my brother and drugged him, and we know that he did the same to Reid. It's our job now to find the evidence that points to Scratch." Stephen is at the door now, giving me a pitiful smile before gesturing for Tara to follow him out. She pats my knee before standing. "We're gonna get him home. You're obviously welcome to stay here, and if you need anything, let us know."

///

I thought that being apart of one FBI-involved case was enough for one lifetime. I don't miss being in this stale interview by myself while the BAU does their work, scrambling for evidence that supports Spencer and gets him home. But there's clearly not much or else I would have heard something. All the horrible memories of my childhood in police stations surface and swirl around my brain, leaving me frantically covering my eyes to will them again. I’m a kid again, laying on an uncomfortable couch and watching officers go back and forth without even looking at me. I’m a kid again, lost and confused with nowhere to go and no one to love me.

JJ and Penelope stop by over the day to check in on me and bring me food whenever they order some, but I don't eat much. I just spend my time staring at the wall and trying not to cry. I eventually leave the room just to change into sweatpants and a hoodie, and when I return, my phone is buzzing with a call from Jenna.

"Hey," she answers, and there's quite a bit of commotion from her end. "You were supposed to be here a half hour ago and The Bachelor starts in twenty minutes, so are you coming? Everyone else is already here and Frankie said he's gonna eat your Popeye's order soon."

"No," I answer quietly, "I'm not gonna make it. Sorry. I forgot to call."

"Are you okay? You sound off," Jenna's no profiler but she's always been good at hearing when I'm off. "Did something happen? Is Spencer okay?"

I cover my eyes with my hand and let out a shaky breath. "No, Jen, he's not."

There's a moment of silence on her line and the shouting from our friends gets quieter as she gets further from them. "Are you guys fighting more? What'd you guys say this time?"

"It's so much worse than that," I cry, curling up on the couch as the waterworks start yet again. "He got arrested." And so I start the story, relaying the details as I know them.

It's now that I accept the situation. Spencer is being framed by a criminally sophisticated serial killer who organized a prison break from behind bars. There won't be evidence. No, actually, there will be evidence and it will all be planted to point to my boyfriend. The minimum sense for murder is twenty years and the maximum is life. No matter what, he's going away for a long time or for forever. I might never see him in my bed again, or on my balcony, or buy a house with him, or have a family with him.

And so I cry to Jenna for hours. She misses The Bachelor and she has no idea who gets sent home or who gets a rose, but I don't think she cares. She listens to me cry over my tainted life plans. The wedding I'll never have. The kids I'll never birth. The mortgage I'll never pay. The college acceptance days I'll never attend. The birthday parties I'll never throw. It may never happen. And I've never been a pessimist, but this is the perfect time to be one.

I know that I fall asleep on the phone with her because when I wake up, my phone is on the floor of the room and it's still unlocked, telling me that it's nearly three in the morning. I'm wide awake and plagued with memories of the times I used to sit in bed with Spencer at this early morning time, eating Chinese food or ice cream and sometimes playing dumb card games that he lets me win or watching movies in a language I don’t speak or teaching him how to braid my hair.

I leave the dark interview room and wander into the dimly lit bullpen, finding right away that the four members of the BAU that are in the country are still in the conference room. They're working through the night and I wish I had the energy in me to thank them.

I push open the doors with every intention of forcing yself to have to energy to thank the team, but I pause when I get to Spencer's desk. His cardigan is still on the back of his chair, and there are more books covering the desk than I’ve ever seen. My pinky promise note has never moved from its spot on his computer and there are now two framed pictures of me on the desk. One is the same one that's hanging in my apartment, and the other is just me on my balcony, grinning at the camera. I hated the picture at the time and I still hate it now. Clearly, Spencer loved it enough to get it developed and put it on his desk. Every time I come here and see this picture, it makes me fall in love with Spencer just a little bit more.

I sit in the cardigan-covered chair and open the top drawer, finding basic office supplies. The next drawer is full of case files and paperwork that I don't have the stomach to go through, and besides, I'm sure I'd be the next to get arrested if I go through them. Federal business and all. I already know what is in the bottom drawer but I open it anyway, and I find that the stash of snacks I supply is still held there. I smile when I find that there are new snacks there, meaning that Spencer has finally learned and eats more when he's at work, even taking it upon himself to buy things other than what I provide for him.

I swivel the chair to the other side and open the only drawer on that side. This drawer is filled with the sketchbook/journals that I've provided for him, and at this point in our relationship, after two years, I've provided him with six already and he's working on his seventh. Each one is decorated differently and uniquely and each one is filled with whatever Spencer decides. I also find one of my hair scarves in here but I don't dare to touch it. I lost this scarf very early in our relationship and I realized I left it at Spencer's apartment, and I knew he'd never give it back to me. I steal his clothes and he steals my hair scarves.

The last thing I find is Spencer's medallion and I quickly pull that out, slamming the desk drawer closed. I'm not sure what to think of this. Did he leave it behind because he was tired of being sober? Did he leave it here on accident? Did he leave it here because he was framed and he didn't plan on getting drugged in a foreign country? I juggle the medallion between my fingers like I've seen Spencer do so many times and wonder if Spencer remembers his promise. I wonder if he remembers that he promised to always come home to me, that he'll always go north and he'll come home to me. Does he remember that?

"Hey," Penelope leans against the desk, giving me a small smile, "I've got a tiny bit of good news."

"Good news?" I echo, not at all convinced. How could they have good news that's tiny? The only good news in my book right now would be Spencer is released from custody.

"Yeah," she nods eagerly, "it turns out that the woman who was killed was a Mexican and an American citizen. The case was just extradited! They were gonna move Spencer to El Diablo Maximum Security Prison but instead, he's gonna go to federal jail here and await his trial."

I just nod at this news, because it's not really good. He's not proven innocent, in fact, plenty of people seem to think he's guilty if he was supposed to go to a Mexican prison. He still has to go to jail and stay there to wait for his trial and he still has to be proven innocent. It's not good news.

"Amelia, it's good, I promise. This means that we can control the case." But I still don't look up from the medallion as it passes between my fingers, and I only look up when she speaks again. "They're on their way back now and they're stopping by here first before bringing him to the federal jail."

"Really? Am I gonna be allowed to see him?" I perk up, the medallion rolling out of my fingers as I jump to my feet.

"Yeah! He's supposed to keep his handcuffs on but if we get you guys into an interview room or something, I'm sure we can make an exception for you," Penelope rubs her hand up and down my arms, smiling. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but everything's gonna be okay."

I scoff out a laugh, already retreating back to my lonely interview room. "It's funny, that's what I said to Spencer when he was upset over a case once. Guess I was wrong."

///

"Amelia, he's here." Penelope beams, waving me out of the interview room.

When I get to the elevator, Spencer is already hugging JJ. She sighs as she's nudged by his jacket-covered, handcuff-bound hands, hugging him as best as she can. I hear her promise the handcuffs are only because there are other people around, and Spencer nods in understanding. He looks horrible- exhausted and disheveled and nothing like the man I fell in love with. But as soon as I see him, a new wave of overwhelming, painful emotions wash over me.

Spencer lays eyes on me and his face crumbles, stepping past JJ to get to me. "I'm sorry," he whispers, but I'm not quite sure what it is he's apologizing for. There's a mountain of things it could be for. But I don't care.

I forget all the horrible things I was thinking before and pull the jacket away from his hands, ducking down and moving inside his circled arms, wrapping my arms around his neck. I squeeze him as tight as I can because I know he can't really hug me properly, and I hear him sigh contently. He melts into my embrace. His arms just hang around my waist but I barely pay mind to them. He's here and that's all I care about. He’s here and he’s touching me and he’s not okay, but he is alive and that’s all I care about.

"Are you okay?" I murmur into his neck, my eyes closed.

"No," he answers, and while I'm happy with his honesty, I'd do anything to change that answer. "I relapsed. After all those years, I relapsed."

"Spencer," I pull away and put my hands on his cheeks, staring into his red-rimmed and bloodshot eyes, "did you do it? Did you kill that woman and did you take those drugs and did you intend to distribute that stuff?"

"No, absolutely not," he answers quickly, shaking his head. "I-I was there," he looks over to make sure the team has left and they have, to give us privacy, "to get medication for my mom. I'm missing time from the drugs but that's the only thing I'm sure of. The medicine she was on wasn't helping and I found this experimental treatment but this doctor would only give it to me in Mexico and Scratch must have found out and used it against me and I'm so, so sorry, Amelia."

"Okay," I whisper back, nodding. "I believe you, dove. Whatever you tell me, I believe, you know that. The team believes you too and they're doing everything they can to prove your innocence."

He glances into the doors of the bullpen where the team is surely debriefing, now together after almost a week of being apart. Then Spencer brings his gaze back to me and rests his forehead against mine. "Are you okay? You look tired."

"Don't worry about me," I give him a tiny smile. "You worry about you."

"You had a panic attack." He quickly concludes, his face contorting into one of concern. "Where were you? Were you alone? Were you-"

"I was at home and I was with JJ and Penelope, but you know that you're the only one who helps. Anyone other than you just makes them worse. But it's fine, I'm fine. Don't waste your energy on me."

Spencer sighs, resigned, his eyes fluttering for a moment. "Can I give you a kiss?"

I savor the kiss. I savor the moment. I savor the way Spencer tries to get his hands on my back. I know that life is changing for a while. My pessimism is rearing its ugly head and I can't stop it. And whether I'm the only pessimist here or nobody else is confessing what they're thinking, I'm the only one acting on it, it seems. I kiss Spencer with everything I have because as soon as he's here, he's gone. He's sitting in a jail cell and he's staring at all without me and without his team. But this is the change that life has brought us. A change that I refuse to adapt to.

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