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#spencer slade
dabble-chrome · 7 months
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choke2sleep · 11 months
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Sleep……sleeeep. Spencer Slade applies his signature sleeper hold and puts Kekoa to sleep.
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muscleaddictza · 4 months
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bemybaebaebae · 11 months
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Spencer Slade
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Omos (with MVP) vs Andrea Guercio and Spencer Slade:Raw 8/8/22
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wrestlerguy23 · 4 months
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snarkylinda · 1 year
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"Don't ever talk to the boy I adopted 5 minutes ago again"
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achillessleepy · 1 year
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Antonia Slade has gotta be one of my favourite unsubs.
Not only does she shit on Reid (I like Spencer, I just.. some of his fans scare me. He gets babyfied so much. Like yes he has some sort of autism but I don't understand why that makes him a child in some eyes. Also the feminisation and babying of him is kinda just shoved down your throat.) She starts some sparks in JJ about being unit chief, does not let Tara play mind games with her and she bullies Gideon (rest your soul old man) and rossi in the same breath.
But the shit she plays with hotch is amazing. I love that. Not only did she refuse to show him respect but she gives him like low-key the coolest warning ever? Yes please.
Also if your about to attack me for the Spencer comment, like I said I like him, I don't mind if you do those things with Spencer, Its just like yk..the Eddie fans or I was about to say or the Spencer fans but I'm quite literally talking about him. Rip me.
Bascially please don't kill me for that.
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theblueharlequin · 2 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Criminal Minds (US TV), Batman - All Media Types, Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Spencer Reid/Jason Todd, Slade Wilson & Spencer Reid, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid Characters: Spencer Reid, Diana Reid, William Reid, Slade Wilson, Rose Wilson, Joseph Wilson, Adeline Kane Wilson, Grant Wilson (DCU), William Randolph Wintergreen, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Derek Morgan (Criminal Minds), David Rossi, Emily Prentiss, Jason Todd, Penelope Garcia Additional Tags: Spencer Reid is a Little Shit, Spencer Reid Has Secrets, Slade Wilson is Spencer Reid's father, Slade Wilson Redemption, Jason Todd Deserves Happiness, Spencer Reid Fluff, Family Bonding, Meet the Family, The BAU Team as Family (Criminal Minds), Spencer Reid Gets a Hug, Slade Wilson is Deathstroke, Good Parent Slade Wilson, Secret Relationship, The Author Regrets Nothing, Family Fluff, BAMF Rose Wilson, Grant Wilson is a good brother, Wilson family lives, Found Family, Marriage Proposal, BAMF Spencer Reid, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Murder, Past Child Abuse, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, But Slade takes Care of it Series: Part 4 of Pretty Boy Got Secrets (Spencer Reid One-Shots), Part 5 of Batman (and the gang) fics Summary:
Spencer Reid wasn’t raised by a mentally ill mother, nor was he an only child, as his team thought. Spencer Reid knew about serial killers because he came from a family of them. When his siblings come to visit, his father is soon to follow. The only question his team has left to ask is who the hell is Spencer really?
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tulsajazz · 11 months
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Happy International Jazz Day 2023!
International Jazz Day is the culmination of Jazz Appreciation Month, which draws public attention to jazz and its extraordinary heritage throughout April. In December 2012, the United Nations General Assembly formally welcomed the decision by the UNESCO General Conference to proclaim April 30 as International Jazz Day. The United Nations and UNESCO now both recognize International Jazz Day on…
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eludin-realm · 5 months
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Character Name Ideas (Male)
So I've been browsing through BehindTheName (great resource!) recently and have compiled several name lists. Here are some names, A-Z, that I like. NOTE: If you want to use any of these please verify sources, meanings etc, I just used BehindTheName to browse and find all of these. Under the cut:
A: Austin, Aiden, Adam, Alex, Angus, Anthony, Archie, Argo, Ari, Aric, Arno, Atlas, August, Aurelius, Alexei, Archer, Angelo, Adric, Acarius, Achilou, Alphard, Amelian, Archander B: Bodhi, Bastian, Baz, Beau, Beck, Buck, Basil, Benny, Bentley, Blake, Bowie, Brad, Brady, Brody, Brennan, Brent, Brett, Brycen C: Cab, Cal, Caden, Cáel, Caelan, Caleb, Cameron, Chase, Carlos, Cooper, Carter, Cas, Cash, Cassian, Castiel, Cedric, Cenric, Chance, Chandler, Chaz, Chad, Chester, Chet, Chip, Christian, Cillian, Claude, Cicero, Clint, Cody, Cory, Coy, Cole, Colt, Colton, Colin, Colorado, Colum, Conan, Conrad, Conway, Connor, Cornelius, Creed, Cyneric, Cynric, Cyrano, Cyril, Cyrus, Crestian, Ceric D: Dallas, Damien, Daniel, Darach, Dash, Dax, Dayton, Denver, Derek, Des, Desmond, Devin, Dewey, Dexter, Dietrich, Dion, Dmitri, Dominic, Dorian, Douglas, Draco, Drake, Drew, Dudley, Dustin, Dusty, Dylan, Danièu E: Eadric, Evan, Ethan, Easton, Eddie, Eddy, Einar, Eli, Eilas, Eiljah, Elliott, Elton, Emanuel, Emile, Emmett, Enzo, Erik, Evander, Everett, Ezio F: Faolán, Faron, Ferlin, Felix, Fenrir, Fergus, Finley, Finlay, Finn, Finnian, Finnegan, Flint, Flip, Flynn, Florian, Forrest, Fritz G: Gage, Gabe, Grady, Grant, Gray, Grayson, Gunnar, Gunther, Galahad H: Hale, Harley, Harper, Harvey, Harry, Huey, Hugh, Hunter, Huxley I: Ian, Ianto, Ike, Inigo, Isaac, Isaias, Ivan, Ísak J: Jack, Jacob, Jake, Jason, Jasper, Jax, Jay, Jensen, Jed, Jeremy, Jeremiah, Jesse, Jett, Jimmie, Jonas, Jonas, Jonathan, Jordan, Josh, Julien, Jovian, Jun, Justin, Joseph, Joni, K: Kaden, Kai, Kale, Kane, Kaz, Keane, Keaton, Keith, Kenji, Kenneth, Kent, Kevin, Kieran, Kip, Knox, Kris, Kristian, Kyle, Kay, Kristján, Kristófer L: Lamont, Lance, Landon, Lane, Lars, László, Laurent, Layton, Leander, Leif, Leo, Leonidas, Leopold, Levi, Lewis, Louie, Liam, Liberty, Lincoln, Linc, Linus, Lionel, Logan, Loki, Lucas, Lucian, Lucio, Lucky, Luke, Luther, Lyall, Lycus, Lykos, Lyle, Lyndon, Llewellyn, Landri, Laurian, Lionç M: Major, Manny, Manuel, Marcus, Mason, Matt, Matthew, Matthias, Maverick, Maxim, Memphis, Midas, Mikko, Miles, Mitch, Mordecai, Mordred, Morgan, Macari, Maïus, Maxenci, Micolau, Miro N: Nate, Nathan, Nathaniel, Niall, Nico, Niels, Nik, Noah, Nolan, Niilo, Nikander, Novak, O: Oakley, Octavian, Odin, Orlando, Orrick, Ǫrvar, Othello, Otis, Otto, Ovid, Owain, Owen, Øyvind, Ozzie, Ollie, Oliver, Onni P: Paisley, Palmer, Percival, Percy, Perry, Peyton, Phelan, Phineas, Phoenix, Piers, Pierce, Porter, Presley, Preston, Pacian Q: Quinn, Quincy, Quintin R: Ragnar, Raiden, Ren, Rain, Rainier, Ramos, Ramsey, Ransom, Raul, Ray, Roy, Reagan, Redd, Reese, Rhys, Rhett, Reginald, Remiel, Remy, Ridge, Ridley, Ripley, Rigby, Riggs, Riley, River, Robert, Rocky, Rokas, Roman, Ronan, Ronin, Romeo, Rory, Ross, Ruairí, Rufus, Rusty, Ryder, Ryker, Rylan, Riku, Roni S: Sammie, Sammy, Samuel, Samson, Sanford, Sawyer, Scout, Seán, Seth, Sebastian, Seymour, Shane, Shaun, Shawn, Sheldon, Shiloh, Shun, Sid, Sidney, Silas, Skip, Skipper, Skyler, Slade, Spencer, Spike, Stan, Stanford, Sterling, Stevie, Stijn, Suni, Sylvan, Sylvester T: Tab, Tad, Tanner, Tate, Tennessee, Tero, Terrance, Tevin, Thatcher, Tierno, Tino, Titus, Tobias, Tony, Torin, Trace, Trent, Trenton, Trev, Trevor, Trey, Troy, Tripp, Tristan, Tucker, Turner, Tyler, Ty, Teemu U: Ulric V: Valerius, Valor, Van, Vernon, Vespasian, Vic, Victor, Vico, Vince, Vinny, Vincent W: Wade, Walker, Wallis, Wally, Walt, Wardell, Warwick, Watson, Waylon, Wayne, Wes, Wesley, Weston, Whitley, Wilder, Wiley, William, Wolfe, Wolfgang, Woody, Wulfric, Wyatt, Wynn X: Xander, Xavier Z: Zachary, Zach, Zane, Zeb, Zebediah, Zed, Zeke, Zeph, Zaccai
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bemybaebaebae · 11 months
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Spencer Slade
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ashes-writing · 11 months
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ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶦˢᵗ
– NSFW CONTENT WARNING. NO MINORS. To be taken to individual masterlists click the character name listed below. 
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lightandheatao3 · 3 months
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The Bunker - Criminal Minds
Chapter 2: The Inevitable
Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.
Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.
AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.
Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.
Chapter Summary: Spencer knows what's about to happen. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean he's prepared to deal with it
Read chapter 2 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are so appreciated <3
Chapter 1 link
There was no sunlight. No clocks on the wall. They had been stripped of their watches and phones. They had no way of being certain how long they’d been trapped.
Spencer had a pretty good idea, though. Cool air flowed in from the small vent in the roof but sweat beaded on his brow.
They were all sat leaned against various sections of wall. The room was big enough that they had to raise their voices slightly to ensure they were heard from the opposite wall.
“Are you doing alright, Spence?” asked JJ, then rolled her eyes at herself for the asinine question, given their current situation. “I mean, relatively speaking, obviously. You look a little pale.”
“Just exhausted,” he said.
Please please please someone break the door down and let them out.
They had spent a long time analyzing the note and had come to the conclusion that whoever wrote and delivered the note was a woman. The hand size, the passive language, the fixation on teaching them a lesson. The apparent belief that she was helping them, justifying her cruelty with compassion. All of it added up to a female Unsub.
They had debated heavily if she might have an accomplice. It would have taken a significant degree of physical strength to subdue them all. Even intravenous drugs don’t knock someone out instantaneously. In addition, the site of injection was incredibly precise and nearly identical on each of them. This would only be possible by holding them very still, likely with a headlock from behind.
An accomplice certainly seemed possible, but at this stage they had no hard evidence to support it.
Everyone looked to Spencer to compile a mental list of all female Unsubs they dealt with while the team was in this particular configuration. Nobody quite fit the profile.
Antonia Slade was intelligent enough and had a history of taking her victims in to care for them before she killed them, but she wouldn’t hide behind a door. She would gloat. He wouldn’t put it past Lindsey Vaughn. She was resourceful. It’s not her MO, but she’d been known to be adaptable when a good opportunity to fuck with them presented itself. But that didn’t explain why she’d gone after them but not Luke and Tara, who she’d also dealt with.
Spencer pointed out to the team he kept tabs on Vaughn in prison, given everything that happened in Mexico. She could theoretically operate via proxy, but he was pretty confident she wasn’t their Unsub.
Truthfully, there were no good candidates. Whoever was doing this was going to need to give them something more to go off if they wanted a chance of piecing it together.
The fluorescent lights buzzed.
Once again he was living under the looming threat of violence and death but all he could think about was how terrified he was to be seen by the people he loved.
There were too many people in too small a space. He had his arms crossed tightly over his midriff to hide the fact his hands were shaking.
Everyone agreed there was no merit to speculating on what secrets she was referencing. For all they knew that was her plan. Get them to reveal information she could use against them, or get them fighting amongst themselves.
There was an invisible ticking clock. Spencer could hear it like it was real. Each second that ticked by was one closer to the moment where his most pressing secret revealed itself anyway thanks to his uncooperative body.
Nobody had spoken for a long time when Rossi piped up, “When do you think dinner is?”
They all stared at him. Hotch raised an eyebrow. “Feeling peckish?”
“If she wants to keep us imprisoned for the duration, surely she plans to feed us.” He looked up at the camera on the roof and raised his voice. “If you’re taking orders, I would love osso buco and a glass of the ’95 Chateaux Latour!”
JJ laughed. “Could you throw in a carbonara for me?”
“And a carbonara!” he demanded from the camera. “Real egg, none of that cream shit.” He looked around the room. “Any other orders? I hear the food here is excellent.”
“Ribeye on the bone, medium rare, a side of fries with a Bearnaise sauce,” said Derek, closing his eyes and giving a satisfied sigh.
“Oh, that’s a good one,” said JJ.
“Yeah, I’ll have what he’s having,” said Emily. “Throw in a pinot for me.”
“What vintage?” asked Rossi.
“Whatever one tastes best chugged straight from the bottle.”
Spencer smiled at them. Truthfully the thought of food was making his stomach turn violently, but he played anyway. “I’ll take a cheeseburger from Bernard's Burgers,” he said simply.
The others hummed in approval. They all cast their eyes to Hotch. He hesitated. Eventually, he said, “There’s a seafood restaurant a couple of blocks from where I live that has the best lobster you’ll ever try. You wouldn’t expect it from a landlocked state, but there’s nothing like it.”
Everyone nodded, satisfied with their imaginary feast.
“Not to keep bugging you, kid, but are you sure you’re alright?” asked Derek. “You’re not looking so hot.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve been kind of off the last couple of days. I might be coming down with something. Sorry if you all catch it,” he said with his best impression of sincerity.
Derek made an ‘oof’ noise. “How’s that for timing?” he asked lightheartedly, though his eyes lingered longer than was entirely comfortable.
After another moment Rossi spoke again. “How long do you think we’ve been in here?”
“14 hours since we woke up,” said Spencer without missing a beat.
They all stared at him. “How the hell do you do that?” said Rossi, impressed.
He shrugged. Truthfully, he didn’t have the best internal clock. It was very easy for him to get lost in thought and lose track of time. The piercing headache and rising nausea were making him acutely aware of every passing minute.
That was how it went with this sort of thing. You had to develop a routine, especially if you wanted to function. He knew exactly how long he could go before he started getting sick. He scheduled his entire life around it.
The Unsub had clearly figured out their routines. Even if she hadn’t, the evidence of Spencer’s habits were strew across the bedside table in the room he was taken from.
He dug his nails into his arms through his sleeves. Time was running out. It was all getting away from him.
As if the Unsub had been reading his mind, the chamber on the door opened.
Derek was faster this time, managing to get his face right up to the chamber while the external hatch was still wide open.
“Talk to us!” he yelled. “We know you’re trying to teach us a lesson,” he said, an empathetic lilt pasted onto his voice. “We just want to know more. We want you to help us understand.”
A gloved hand deposited an unmarked brown paper shopping bag. The external hatch closed. The internal one released. Derek bowed his head as their captor left with no response. “She must be positioning herself to the side of the door. I still couldn’t see anything more than a hand. She’s careful, but we knew that already.”
Derek took the bag out and they all crowded around it cautiously.
It was packed full of fruit. Emily picked up an apple, turning it over in her hand.
With all eyes focused on her, she carefully took a bite.
She chewed, then swallowed.
“It tastes normal,” she assured them. “Give it half an hour to an hour to see if it has any effects on me, but I don’t think poisoning the food fits this woman’s MO.”
“I agree,” said Hotch, taking a pear. He followed Emily’s lead and cautiously bit into it. He nodded at the others.
The first rule of being held captive was to always take your food and water where you could get it. You never knew when your supply could be cut off.
They all reached in and took a piece of fruit, including Spencer. He had no desire to eat, but he knew he had to keep his strength up and get what he could down while it was still possible.
As he took his orange, he uncovered a note at the bottom of the bag. JJ saw it too, reaching in and grabbing it before he could.
They all watched her expectantly.
“Your room must always be clean. After you eat, put the food scraps in the bag and the bag in the chamber. There are consequences for breaking rules. Now, as a reward for good behavior, I will take away the burden of lies that weighs one of you down. If Dr Reid-”
She paused, reading further down the note, furrowing her brow.
They all stared at him. He tugged at his sleeves nervously.
“Keep going,” said Emily to JJ, though her eyes were fixed firmly on him.
JJ looked at him apologetically. He looked at the floor. She continued, “If Dr Reid is sick, it is only because he is missing his medicine. I gave you all a taste of it to get you here. I hope you don’t catch his disease.”
She dropped the note like it was radioactive. She mouthed the word 'sorry' at him, knowing as well as he did the shit show that was about to errupt. Derek immediately picked the note up. He looked over it himself like he didn’t want to believe JJ had read it accurately.
He looked back at Spencer.
They were all staring at him.
Instinct told him to run, but there was nowhere for him to go. Instead he stood and waited for the concrete beneath his feet to turn to liquid and encase him.
They were waiting for him to talk first.
He couldn’t.
“What’s she talking about, pretty boy?” asked Derek, finally taking pity on him and breaking the silence.
He took a few steps back, suddenly acutely aware of how close they were after gathering around the bag of fruit. “I have no idea,” he said petulantly, cringing at himself for it.
“It’s alright, kid,” said Rossi sympathetically. “Nobody is upset, just talk to us.”
Spencer’s brain sprinted in circles. Why did the lights have to be so bright?
He tried desperately to think of some clever way to talk himself out of it even though he’d figured out hours ago that this was going to happen. This Unsub’s plan was technically impressive, but it wasn’t exactly psychologically sophisticated. She wanted to out their secrets. This one was going to out itself pretty soon anyway, so of course she'd want to get to it first.
“Spencer,” said Emily, “How sick are you going to get?”
No is it true? Or does this mean what I think it means? Straight to believing it. They didn’t even look surprised. They looked like this was only confirming what they already knew. They looked sad.
Horribly, infuriatingly sad.
He ran a hand through his hair.
“The others are going to find us,” he insisted. “It doesn’t matter.”
He wished he could believe it, but he wished they could believe it even more.
“This is why you woke up before the rest of us,” said JJ softly. “Why you weren’t as affected. It’s because your tolerance is up.”
“You guys can see what she’s doing. She’s trying to pit us against each other,” he accused, wrapping his arms tighter around himself and taking another step back. "We're just playing into her fantasy."
“Don’t think about her right now,” said Emily. “If you’re going into withdrawal then we need to know exactly what to expect. Mind games can’t take precedence over your physical safety.”
“I’ll be fine. Opioid withdrawal has a statistically low mortality rate, with only 2% of the-”
“So it is opioid withdrawal?” She tilted her head. “Look at you, Spencer. You’re shaking, your skin is clammy. You said yourself, we’ve only been in here 14 hours! If it’s this bad already, how much worse is it going to get?”
“I don’t know!” he snapped. “Yes, fine, I’m going to get sick! What do you want me to say?”
“Easy, pretty boy,” said Derek gently. “This isn't an attack. The fact is, we’re all locked in here together and this is happening whether we like it or not. We just need you to tell us exactly how bad this is going to get.”
“I don’t know,” he said shortly.
“Yes, you do,” countered Emily. “You cold give us a detailed breakdown of the symptoms, timeline, and risk factors of an opioid detox based on frequency and duration of usage. You just don’t want to admit how much and for how long you’ve been using because it’s bad, right?” she said. Typical Emily, so pragmatic. There would be plenty of time for sentiment once she had a plan, but no sooner. “This isn’t just a slip, is it? You’re shooting up again and have been for a while.”
Spencer flinched. So did everyone else.
All eyes were on him, but for some reason it was Hotch’s gaze he caught. The man hadn’t said anything the entire exchange. Just stood at the back of the group and watched carefully.
When their eyes met, Hotch gave him a tight, sympathetic smile.
Spencer looked at a spot just behind Emily’s head and spoke quietly. “I… I’ll be fine, Emily. I’ll get sick but I’ll get better. It’s not the first time. I don’t need your help.”
“Roll up your sleeves,” she demanded.
He sputtered, “What? No!”
“Emily,” said Rossi placatingly. “Take a beat.”
She ignored him. “If you won’t tell us what to expect then show us. Spencer, I know this is fucking awful and believe me this is not the way I would like to have this conversation,” she said, gesturing to the oppressive room. “I am so sorry for not seeing what was happening and helping you sooner,” she said sincerely. “The least I can do is make sure you get through this safely.”
Even as he said it, he could feel himself regretting it, but before he could stop himself, “Fuck off Emily,” had slipped out his mouth.
JJ gasped and Derek interjected with a stern “Hey! I know this sucks but do not speak to her that way.”
“It’s fine,” said Emily. “I’m not trying to be condescending, Spencer. I’m just scared. I want to help.”
She sounded excruciatingly sincere. It made his blood boil.
“No,” he snapped, stepping back again until he felt the wall hit him. “None of you were there the other times I had to do this, and now you want me to defer to your expertise? What the hell do you know? What do any of you actually know? If you wanted to do an intervention you should have done it after Tobias Hankle, but none of you said anything and I don’t need you like that anymore,” he spat.
Emily’s eyes were wide with shock.
Spencer's words surprised himself just as much as the rest of them.
“I’m sorry,” she said, taken aback. “You’re right. I should have said something back then.”
Guilt twisted its way through the panic and rage, settling into his chest.
They were all trapped down there together and here he was punishing Emily for caring. He tried his best to hold onto the anger. To wrap himself in it. He could feel it slipping away.
Hotch stepped forward. Spencer had almost forgotten he was there.
“I was team leader at the time of the Hankle case. I’m the one who decided not to intervene,” he said firmly. “Emily brought her concerns to me and I shut them down because I was afraid if word got out you would lose your job, making your situation worse. I trusted that you were strong enough to recover. And you were. But you never should have done so without proper support. I regret that, Reid, and I always will.”
Maybe it was the stark inevitability catching up with him that there was simply no way to avoid going through withdrawal in front of them. Maybe it was the way his eyes kept searching for an exit he knew didn't exist. Maybe it was thinking about Tobias Hankle. All these years and all the other traumas, and a part of him was still stuck in that cabin in Georgia. A part of him always would be. Whatever it was, the fight left him.
He was still pressed up against the wall, and he slid down it until he was sitting on the cold concrete floor. The others sat too.
“I don’t know why I said that. I’m not angry about it anymore. Or, at least… I’m not angry at any of you,” he said, chancing an apologetic glance at Emily. “Maybe at Gideon, still. But what’s the point in that?”
“When someone who hurt you is gone it doesn’t take away the scars,” said Rossi. “I loved Gideon, but he made mistakes. It’s okay to be pissed about it.”
“Do you guys really want to hear all this?” asked Spencer skeptically.
They might say that’s what they want, but the subject of his addiction had never felt particularly welcome. They had always flinched away from it, just as they had only a minute ago when Emily referenced him shooting up.
He certainly didn’t want their pity or concern.
“Of course we do,” said Emily, with the others nodding emphatically.
He hesitated. They already knew, he reminded himself. They were asking because they care about him and because the secret was already out. He couldn't put it back.
“2 years. Or 1 year, 11 months, and 3 days, to be precise.”
Silence. He wanted to say stunned silence? But it could have as easily been disgust. He couldn’t tell.
“How is that possible?” asked Derek, deceptively calm.
“We couldn’t miss the signs for that long,” said JJ disbelievingly.
“It’s been on and off,” he clarified. “I was only using in between cases when I was last working with the BAU.” Then, sheepishly, “Mostly." There were some cases... well. He'd done his best. "You would be surprised how easy it is to miss substance abuse in people close to you. One study showed that up to 60% of heroin users are what we call ‘functional addicts,’ meaning they can hold down fulltime employment, social lives, and sometimes even have their addiction go unnoticed by intimate partners for months or years at a time,” he rattled off, before catching the look in his friends’ eyes and stopping. “It isn’t your fault,” he said simply. “I’ve been avoiding you on purpose. Not to mention you base your warning signs on how I behaved when I first became addicted, expecting me to be volatile and disorganized. But I’m not 25 and in the immediate aftermath of a traumatic event anymore. I have more control. It’s not a problem like it was back then,” he assured them.
“Feels like a pretty big problem right now,” said Rossi.
“Functional addicts don’t stay functional forever, pretty boy,” said Derek. “I’m sure you know the other side of those statistics.”
“I don’t have a large enough dataset to offer credible statistics on the amount of opioid addicts who get kidnapped and forced to detox in bunkers. In retrospect, I should have realized that I am an outlier who should have expected something like this to happen,” he deadpanned.
“Well, we’re all outliers vis a vis kidnappings,” replied Emily dryly. "I'm sure that makes you feel better."
“I hate doing this while we’re being watched,” he said. “It feels like we’re encouraging her. This is exactly the outcome she was hoping for. It’s why she dosed you all with opioids instead of using pure sedatives. Just to taunt me.”
“Don’t worry about that now,” said Hotch. “What matters is that we get you through withdrawal. We need accurate information to ensure we know what to do.”
“I know,” he admitted reluctantly. He took a long, slow breath. “Ask me whatever you need to,” he said, directing it to Emily.
He wished he was high right now. He’d give anything for a hit.
Emily nodded; sentiment once again pushed down the line to when the job was done. “Dilaudid?”
“It’s whatever is easiest to get.”
“So, heroin,” she clarified.
He looked at his lap. “It doesn't make a difference to the withdrawal process. It’s all derivatives of the same compound.”
“It makes a difference to your risk of overdose,” she clarified, “but you’re right, that’s not an immediate concern,” she agreed. “Needles?”
He nodded, not looking at them.
“It’s okay, kid,” said Rossi. “We’re not judging.”
He didn’t really believe that, so he didn’t respond to it.
“Every day? If so, how many times a day?” Emily asked.
“It was previously more intermittent, as I said, but for the past 8 months or so It has been twice a day at a minimum.” A beat. "Usually more."
“Okay. Thank you for telling us all that. I know this isn’t easy,” she said. “I just have one more question for now. Is there any risk that you have an infection?”
“All intravenously administered drugs come with a statistically significant risk of infection,” he said, ready to ramble about it before she threw up a hand to preemptively cut him off. “I always use sterile equipment and alcohol wipes. I’m fine.”
“You are anything but fine, pretty boy,” said Derek, shaking his head. “But we’ll get you through this.”
“That would be more comforting if we weren’t locked in a bunker by a serial killer.”
“Minor problem,” Derek joked. “Consider it a study on innovative approaches to running a rehabilitation facility.”
Spencer didn't laugh. Neither did anyone else. JJ placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
He caught Hotch's eye again, briefly.
Had any of them ever really had a shot at escaping their pasts or was this all inevitable? He wasn't getting clean by choice. Hotch wasn't there in the bunker to reconnect with them. Spencer was struck by the reality that proximity did not always mean closeness.
He was already thinking about the moment he could get out of here and get high again. Was Hotch just counting the seconds until he could disappear from their lives forever?
Assuming they didn't all just die, of course.
Maybe that's what he should be focusing on now. Just don't die. Figure out the rest later.
He leaned into JJ, letting her put an arm around him. The red light from the camera blinked down at them.
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saiilorstars · 1 month
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Ch. 32: A Bad Case of Allergies
[Story Masterlist] // [Aitana’s Masterlist]
Fandom: Criminal Minds // Pairing: Spencer Reid x OFC
Taglist: @ocappreciationtag​​​​​ @arrthurpendragon​​​​​ @anotherunreadblog​​​​​ @maaaaarveeeeel​​​​​ @stareyedplanet​​​​​ @averyhotchner​​​​​​ @foxesandmagic @kmc1989 @midmourn​​​​​​
If you’d like to be a part of Aitana’s taglist, please let me know!
Also available on Fanfic ○ Ao3 ○ Wattpad
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Aitana sneezed twice before she walked into the conference room. She sneezed a third time as she placed her things down on the round table. By then, she had already claimed both Emily's and Penelope's attention. And when she sneezed for the fourth time, Morgan and Spencer paused too.
"Oh sprinkles, are you getting sick?" Penelope said with wide concerned eyes while Aitana grabbed her seat.
"Just allergies," Aitana waved it off while she sniffed.
"You have allergies?" Emily raised an eyebrow at her.
"I could."
"If you're not feeling well, maybe you should go home," Morgan suggested.
"I feel okay," Aitana said a bit fast. Her first mistake. "It's just allergies." She sneezed again, barely making it into her arm. "I got some new flowers for the house too. That probably didn't help."
"Actually, cut flowers are rarely a cause for allergies," Spencer said, "Pollen typically comes from grass, trees, and weeds."
Aitana sneezed again then drew in a deep breath. "Yes, thank you, Spencer," she said in a strained voice and another big sniff.
Spencer awkwardly scrunched his face. Clearly, she was trying to convince them that she wasn't getting sick. "People also tend to sneeze many times in a row because they're trying to clear their nasal passages," he said, and she eyed him suspiciously like she was waiting for him to also agree with the others that she was indeed getting sick. "Typically the third or fourth sneeze is just your body's way of making sure all irritants were expelled safely from your nose."
Aitana couldn't keep her narrow-eyed look on him for long, especially when it seemed like he was trying to help her. "Thank you. See?" She glanced at the others at the table. "Just getting rid of something in my nose, as Dr. Reid said."
The other agents rolled their eyes but kept their comments to themselves for the time being. Minutes later, Hotch, JJ and Rossi joined them. Penelope got straight to the point with a school shooting case that happened years ago.
"High school bombing in Boise, right?" Morgan asked. He vaguely remembered the headline on the news. "School shooter and school bomber."
Penelope nodded her head. "A kid named Randy Slade shot 3 students and then set off an I. E. D. in the cafeteria via cell phone, killing himself and 13 kids total, but not before posting all of his plans online."
"It was one of those 'Where were you?' events. My whole campus was glued to the tv," remarked JJ.
"Well, last night, Principal Givens—who was the principal during the shooting—was killed by a bomb modeled exactly like the old one," Penelope said.
"It feels like the unsub wants to attack the man who kept the school together after the bombing," Rossi said. "It's a pretty symbolic target."
"And this week is the 10th anniversary of the massacre," Penelope informed the group. "And today is the first day of a 4-day event to commemorate the bombing at the school."
"So this guy's going to—" Aitana sniffed, "—strike again. Commemorating it won't be enough for the unsub." They could only hope to get there quick.
~ 0 ~
On the plane ride, the group delve deeper into the original school shooting to better understand the unsub they were working with now.
"Randy Slade carried his bomb in his backpack," Morgan said as they went through the files, "This guy hid his in Givens' clock radio."
Aitana sneezed again. She mumbled a 'thanks' to JJ who'd passed her a tissue. She didn't want to admit to the pain she was feeling in her ears. Spencer had warned her that if she had a cold—which he was sure that she did—taking a plane ride wouldn't be the best idea. Aitana claimed it was allergies again.
"...they try to join various social groups, but they get shut out," JJ was saying by the time Aitana came out of her funk. Things were slightly off tune for Aitana as well.
"Randy Slade wasn't a loner at all. The family cooperated fully with us," Hotch said, Rossi nodding in agreement. "He was a high-functioning psychopath, straight-A student, varsity wrestler, lots of girlfriends. With an above-average intelligence that made him incredibly resourceful."
"His explosive of choice was Semtex," said Rossi, "It's found at demolition sites, but it's held under lock and key. Which made us consider the possibility of a partner."
"Never found one," Hotch said, "Slade was too much of a narcissist to share credit. But he was also an impulsive teen, which is what bothers me about this unsub."
"His sense of control?" asked Emily.
"And the end game that he's working toward," Hotch added.
"Slade's pathology revolved around the big kill," Spencer said as he went through the list of victims on their file. "This unsub could have done the same if he'd waited for the candlelight vigil."
"Which means there's no blaze of glory fantasy here," Hotch said, "This unsub has more bombs made, and he's savoring the anticipation of his next attack."
~ 0 ~
Upon arriving to the Boise police department, the team divided in two to visit the crime scene and set up at the department. While Hotch and Rossi spoke to the Chief, Aitana and Morgan started pinning up the old case file on their evidence boards. Aitana had to pause every now and then to sneeze. She wouldn't admit it, even though it wasn't necessary, her nose was beginning to get stuffy.
"Those are not allergies, spicy sprinkles," Morgan remarked with an amused smile.
Aitana shook her head. "They are," she insisted. "I don't get sick."
"Everybody gets sick."
"I don't!" Aitana was about to sneeze again when it turned into a cough instead. Morgan raised an eyebrow at her while she went through her fit. Once Aitana was finished and she could talk, she acted like nothing had happened. "That's part of allergies."
"Right," Morgan laughed. "It's no big deal if you're getting sick."
"Are you kidding? It's a huge deal! I just got back to the BAU permanently and I'm going to call out? No way. We have a job to do and no cold is going to get into my way!"
Morgan smirked suddenly. "I thought you said it was just allergies!"
Aitana was a second away from smacking him with a manila folder when Hotch opened the door. "You got saved by the bell," she muttered to Morgan.
"We're heading to the Slades' residence," Hotch told them, drawing Morgan's attention away from Aitana.
"They're still around here?"
Hotch nodded. "The younger brother goes to the same school. Let's go." He left the door open for the agents to follow through.
"So, sure they're allergies, then?" Morgan mumbled to Aitana before he started making his way out of the room.
"I hate you," Aitana spat, ignoring his chuckle. Before leaving the room, she decided to scarf down an allergy pill just to make sure. That'd been the wrong move because fifteen minutes later, she began feeling dizzy. The pills weren't drowsy-free. She must have grabbed Angel's pills instead of hers. He always used the non-drowy formula to get a good nap.
They arrived at the Slades' home to find it bombarded with the media.
"Well, it looks like we're not the only ones interested in Brandon," Morgan said just as they parked. "It's gonna make it a lot harder for us to talk our way in."
Aitana pulled her head off the window and took in a breath. "Unless we use it to our advantage," she said through a sniff.
"You're not thinking about going out there to give a media press?" Rossi asked her.
Aitana smiled. "Watch me."
Morgan exchanged looks with Hotch and Rossi in the front seats. Both men gave him the look that he needed to go help Aitana. "Seriously?" he mumbled under his breath as he got out of the car.
"Women are just inherently stubborn," Rossi said on his way out. "Don't tell her I said that."
Morgan gave a half shrug as they moved around the car. Aitana had already commanded the attention of the media, albeit with a strained voice.
"...does this have anything to do with Brandon Slade?" one reporter was asking when Morgan joined her.
Aitana blinked several times before giving an answer, though it was given a slight mumble. "Not...not as of...not really, no…"
Morgan had never heard her give such a disastrous answer. It was bemusing but up to a certain point.
"Well, this was the same principal during Brandon Slade's time," the same reporter continued. "Principal Givens helped evacuate many students the last time."
Aitana swayed lightly on her feet. Morgan had to grab hold of her arm to keep her still. "Was it?" Aitana asked them, taking in a deep breath.
"Okay," Morgan said, deciding to cut in for her sake and her reputation, "As of right now, there is nothing concrete to tell us there was a connection with Brandon Slade."
"Morgan!" They heard Hotch call from the front door. He was nodding for the two agents to join them inside the house.
Morgan held Aitana's arm even tighter. For some reason, she was going to start in the opposite direction. "Alright," he said to the press, "Feel free to call me if you have any other background questions. My phone number is 702-555-0103."
"And what's your name, sir?" A female reporter inquired.
"Uh, it's Dr. Spencer Reid. R-E-I-D." Morgan smirked proudly as he turned Aitana with him for the house.
Aitana sniffed. "Was it me...or did you just say you were Spencer?"
"Nah, that was all you, spicy sprinkles," Morgan rubbed her back comfortingly.
"Oh...okay…"
Morgan chuckled. She needed to get some rest pronto.
~ 0 ~
As it turned out, the younger Slade brother had kept in his possession the old list of his older brother's. From it, the team was able to gather the people on the list to talk and explain to them what the situation was. Emily took the lead on that task and very much requested that Aitana go back to their hotel to rest. Aitana did no such thing. The rest of them were compiling the profile to deliver it to the precinct.
She was on her way to the conference room when she heard Spencer calling her. He caught up with her in the bullpen and offered her a cup of, according to him, tea. "Chamomile," he said as she eyed it. "For allergies, of course."
Aitana couldn't help her laugh then. "I think you're the only one following my lie," she said as she took the cup from his hand. "I should say double thanks for that."
"With luck, it could turn into allergies," Spencer said with a little smile. "Chamomile will give your immune system a good boost. I didn't know if you liked it with honey so I didn't put any, sorry."
"Don't worry," Aitana languidly waved a hand then took a sip. It was nice and warm and felt great in her throat. "Putting honey can lower your blood pressure so...best to be careful with that. See, I know stuff too." She winked at him and started walking again.
Spencer smiled for a bit until he became conscious of the fact and shook his head fast. He hurried to catch up with her. "We could go get you some of the honey Halls, if you want."
"That's kind of you, but I'm not going to make anybody go to the store on my behalf," Aitana said. "Besides, I'll be fine. The tea's already working." She took another drink to make her point. "Seriously, thanks. You can keep some distance if you'd like. I'm probably radiating germs right now."
"I'm good," Spencer said almost automatically, which was honestly surprising after he realized it.
"Aren't you always the one on the lookout for incoming germs?" Aitana side-glanced him curiously. "This is your sign to run. Seriously. I don't mind. I won't get mad."
"I'm not going to run away from you, Aitana," he said, scrunching his face like she was crazy.
"Suit yourself, but you might get some...allergies..." Aitana wagged a finger at him.
"Well, you know, allergies aren't actually contagious so..." But Spencer trailed off as Aitana started to laugh. She was joking.
~ 0 ~
The tea did admittedly help Aitana get a better handle on her voice, but her head was progressively feeling heavier. While the team delivered the profile, she stood there trying to keep herself together and, most of all, focused.
"Partners of dominant psychopaths are usually submissive, but that doesn't mean that they can't be intelligent or that they're physically weak…"
She was pretty sure Hotch was speaking. She didn't have the nerve to keep checking.
"...this unsub laid low after the bombing and successfully evaded police and FBI. That took cunning and patience, which he's exhibiting now with his current murders."
"We think he fits the loner profile Slade debunked," Rossi said.
Or maybe it was Spencer?
"He grew up in an abusive home, which kept him from forming the normal social bonds in high school."
"We interviewed all the outcasts from back then," the Chief asked the team, "How did this guy slip through?"
"Even outcasts eventually form friendships," Aitana managed to answer. "Just inevitable but this unsub was the outcast the outcasts rejected."
"He won't stand out in any capacity, and as a matter of fact, most of his fellow students probably won't even remember graduating with him," Spencer took over soon. He was pretty sure Aitana was leaning on the desk to keep herself on her feet. "And that invisibility is what made him attractive to Slade."
"This partner wouldn't steal the spotlight," Morgan said, "Slade turned to the cafeteria because most of the names on his list ate there together during fifth period. So his hatred festered when the names on the list emerged from the cafeteria as media heroes."
"And now he wants to finish the job that Randy started," JJ said, lamenting the implications she was basically giving. "Emotionally, this weekend is more a high school reunion to him than a memorial."
"We go to reunions to show who we grew up to be. Often that means changing everything about who we were," said Hotch, "Consciously or not, Randy Slade revealed clues as to his partner's identity when he detonated his bomb. Agent Prentiss will be conducting cognitive interviews to see what the survivors might remember."
Sadly, their entire case pretty much rested on those interviews at the moment.
~0~
"I'm this close to asking Hotch to send Aitana to the hotel to rest," JJ said when she joined Morgan and Spencer in the conference room. "She's in the restroom right now blowing her nose over and over. I wouldn't be surprised if she passes out from dizziness."
Morgan laughed, imagining it. "Girl is stubborn. And I thought Garcia won that competition."
"Maybe you should go back to check on her," Spencer said, sounding slightly concerned over it. JJ assured him she was only kidding but it didn't lessen his concern. "There are actual consequences if someone blows their nose too much. Her head was already hurting so this will only amplify it, and that's not counting the ruptures she could—"
"Reid," Morgan cut in, trying his best not to laugh in that moment. "Relax, she'll be fine."
"I still think someone should go get her," Spencer said quietly. "I'd do it but she's in the women's restroom," he said with a pointed glance at JJ.
"Uuh, since when are you so keen on being close to someone sick?" JJ raised a brow at him. "Last time I remember, you wouldn't get within 10ft of me when I got sick."
"Ooh, JJ, c'mon now," Morgan said, throwing Spencer a teasing smile, "Isn't it obvious? Pretty boy wants to make up for lost time with Aitana. He did think she had a boyfriend for ages."
"Morgan," Spencer gritted his teeth together. He was waiting for that to get thrown in his face. While Morgan just outright laughed, JJ was a little more decent and hid her smile behind her hand. "Fine, I made a mistake, what's the big deal?" Spencer said with a groan.
"The big deal is that it's hilarious," Morgan was happy to answer with. "Genius like you and you missed it?"
"Maybe because unlike you people, I don't immediately chase after someone I just met," Spencer said, crossing his arms, "Maybe I value my friendships and that's why I'm worried about Aitana. Ever think of that?"
"Sure, of course." Morgan's smile was much too wide for Spencer's taste.
"I still can't believe you told him," he said to JJ who then immediately reminded him that she had not told Morgan. "Yeah, but you told Garcia and that's basically the same thing!"
That time, JJ chuckled. "Alright, fine, but it's not that big of a deal. Emily hasn't said anything."
"You told Emily!?" Spencer exclaimed. "Great, I guess I'll just wait for Rossi to start chiming in and then Hotch will start talking about the proper procedure for informing the FBI—"
"Spence, that wouldn't happen," JJ said, but Morgan had something else to add.
"Yeah, we all know Hotch wouldn't be caught dead explaining technicalities about relationships. That's not his style."
Spencer groaned. "You guys are horrible friends! And you'll be even more awful if you tell Aitana about any of this!"
"Oh, don't worry about that," Morgan came to sit on the edge of the table. "I'm not saying anything."
~ 0 ~
Once Penelope had time to go over the list they had found earlier, she called the team to get them organized and informed. They had written the names from the lists in two columns on a white board, according to Penelope's findings.
"Group one is like the popular kids— prom court, football team, Dean's list," she explained over the phone, making all eyes rake over the specific column. "The Heathers, if you will. Kids in Slade's social circle."
"What about number two?" asked Morgan.
"Uh, that would be the kids from the other side of the tracks, 180-degree difference. Kids this close to getting kicked out—stoners, burnouts, mental cases. Chelsea Grant, our latest victim, is on this list."
"Maybe Slade targeted them because they disgusted him?" JJ offered the theory.
"But they didn't threaten Slade's sense of superiority," Spencer said. "He wouldn't have even cared about them."
"So the partner did it," Aitana suggested. She had grabbed a seat to lean back. She was feeling a bit more tired. "You know, they both chose their specific victims."
Hotch agreed. "That would mean that group would be closer to his social status than Slade's."
"Why would the…" Spencer's cell phone buzzed on the table, about the fifth time intelsat two hours. He quickly grabbed it and denied the call. "I'm so sorry. Why would the unsub list kids that he fit in with?"
"Apparently that's how this clique worked," said Penelope, "The kids in it were meaner to each other than kids on the outside."
"Garcia, separate out all the kids who got into trouble regularly," Hotch started instructing, "Then eliminate the names that the partner put on the list. Now, who's left that came to the memorial?"
"Right!" Penelope got right on it.
"Whoever made the list wouldn't put their name on it," JJ barely said when Penelope announced she may have found the unsub.
"Lewis Ramsey."
With that streak of luck, the team set to work on finding their man. They eventually located him in the evening at a cruddy bar drinking his sorrows away. They detained him and brought him back to the precinct for questioning. Between Hotch and Morgan, they firmly concluded that while Ramsey was Slade's partner, he wasn't responsible for the latest kills.
Spencer brought their attention to a curious thing within Slade's last message before dying. Spencer had rewritten it on a white board exactly as it was on paper. "Ramsey was the partner, but look at how Slade added 'all the LoSeRs in this Godforsaken school.'" Spencer tapped a knuckle against the last word. "This capitalization isn't an accident. Look. L-S-R. Lewis Stuart Ramsey."
"So Slade did name his own partner," Aitana said with a sniff. "And I guess, ironically, Lewis' marijuana conviction saved his life." The man had gone sober and was now making amends for his past actions including being Slade's partner.
"Well, that puts us back to our original problem," Emily remarked. "If the unsub isn't the partner, how did he get his hands on a list that Slade and Lewis kept to themselves?" Aitana's phone went off so she moved to the side to answer JJ's call.
"The only answer is that part of the profile is wrong," Hotch said. "The unsub's vendetta has nothing to do with the list. Did you get anything from Jerry Holtz?"
Emily shook her head. "Only that he mixed up the cell phones that Slade used. It felt like he was making the story up, but I only had a hunch."
"We need to find him now. There's a connection to the victimology that we're missing. Whatever he's holding back might be the key."
"Umm," Aitana's raspy voice stopped the trio from leaving. She was putting her phone in her pocket when she rejoined them. "That won't be possible anymore. Jerry Holtz was murdered in the old high school. JJ's at the scene right now."
~0~
The rest of the night was dedicated to rearranging the profile as they examined the new crime scene and the leftover "potential victims" they had on their lists. The unsub was amongst the group of survivors.
"JJ and Emily are still going through the survivors' names," Aitana said to Hotch as they walked towards the conference room. Her voice had more of a rasp to it than it had the previous day.
"Thanks," Hotch said, "You know you are more than free to head back to the hotel," he said as they neared the doors. "You stayed up all night with us."
Aitana shook her head even though she did feel like she was one step away from falling asleep. "Just allergies," she insisted.
Hotch pulled the door open for her. "I don't think so," he said but Aitana didn't register it. She walked inside with a slight sway in her steps.
"...the unsub doesn't feel pain," Spencer was in the middle of his words when the pair joined them. Morgan and Rossi were listening attentively. "There's a medical condition called pain asymbolia, where patients register harmful stimuli without being bothered by it. They've been documented holding their hand over an open flame because their brain doesn't send pain signals to the central nervous system."
"Sounds pretty rare," Rossi said. He eyed Aitana who'd grabbed the nearest seat to them as soon as she found one. (Because yes, it took her a while to get there). She perched an arm over it and rested her cheek against her palm.
"You sure the unsub has it?" asked Hotch.
Spencer nodded firmly. "The crime scenes prove it. This unsub displayed an unusual level of savagery towards his victims. And consider this—he smashed through a glass display case, but there were no cuts on Jerry. That means he most likely punched through it as a show of force. Now, the only way the human body could withstand that level of pain is if he couldn't feel it at all. It must take a major toll on someone's emotional development." For what seemed like the millionth time that morning, Spencer felt his cell phone buzz in his back pocket. He pulled it out, already knowing it was another spam call, and rejected the call. "A significant contributor to our sense of empathy is the way we personally experience pain. And the unsub didn't develop his sense of empathy because it was cut off."
"Does every person with asymbolia have this?" Morgan inquired.
"Actually, most feel empathy just fine, which makes me think the rest of our profile is still accurate. Loner, invisible," —Spencer felt his phone ringing again, "Outcast, boiling rage—" It was still buzzing. "Son of a bitch!" He practically shouted. He had reached his damn level with the phone calls. He pulled his phone out again and this time answered the call. "Hi! This is Dr. Spencer Reid. I actually can come to the phone right now with a very special message that your mother is a—"
"Reid," Hotch cut him off sharply.
Abashed, Spencer yanked his phone from his ear, only then realizing how he must have sounded to the others. "Sorry. I'm really sorry. I don't know what got into me." He turned his phone off for reputation reasons and cleared his throat, feeling an insane flush on his face. "Uh, where were we?"
Thankfully, Hotch let his moment slide and went on with their next steps. It was then that Spencer noticed the strange smile Morgan had on his face. He was the only one who seemed to have a clue. Rossi and Hotch had moved on like nothing and Aitana...she had given up keeping her head up. She had flattened her arms on the table and rested her cheek against them, eyes blinking much more slowly now.
Yeah, it was Derek Morgan alright.
"I'm going to have Garcia check medical records," Hotch said, "What causes asymbolia?"
"S-s-severe trauma produces lesions in the insular cortex, usually after a stroke," Spencer explained slowly. His mind was working but not for the case. "But this unsub's so young, it's most likely caused by an external factor."
"Like a bomb going off next to him?" Rossi inquired.
"Yeah, a bomb going off next to him…" Spencer nodded.
"Let's go," Hotch said, prompting Rossi to follow him.
"Somebody oughta bring this one to the hotel," Rossi said with bemusement as they passed by Aitana. She was practically asleep on the table.
"We'll take care of it," Spencer said with a strained smile. He moved over to collect the papers they had left out and since Morgan was still watching him with his stupid smirk, he mumbled: "I will crush you."
"What?" Morgan raised an eyebrow at him.
"What?" Spencer said quickly, shuffling the papers against the table. "I'll bring Aitana back to the hotel."
"You sure about that?" Morgan asked. "She's hellbent on staying here."
"I can handle it. Go, go," Spencer waved his hand. He would need some time to come up with a good retaliation.
~ 0 ~
Aitana vaguely remembered Spencer attempting to move her out of her chair. All she knew is that the team was gone for some reason and her throat was so dry. "I'm good," she insisted. "It's just allergies."
Spencer chuckled. He was right beside her, guiding her into the hotel they were staying at. "I think we're way past that, Aitana. It's not a big deal, lots of people get sick. About 49 million people get the flu each year."
"Did you...why are you talking so loud?"
"I'm not, but I'll be more quiet if that helps." Spence had brought her into the elevator and pressed the button of their floor. "You know, legally, you can't keep working this case anymore."
"Because it's not allergies?" Aitana sniffed.
Spencer chuckled. "Yeah, sorry. But you've already helped us so much, we'll be just fine."
The elevator dinged open and he brought her into the hallway. He asked her for her room key and opened the door of her room. "I think you should try resting now. Maybe a nap?"
"Oh, now you're sounding like JJ," Aitana said with another sniffle. When Spencer let her go, she was already right by her best and yet she still stumbled on it.
"Well, I do spend a lot of time with her. And I also know that when you get sick, one of the best forms to combat it is to take a nap."
"Why?" Aitana kicked her shoes off and scooted up the bed until she found her pillow. "Tell me a statistic, Dr. Reid."
A smile crossed Spencer's face and, eventually, a small chuckle. "When you're sleeping, your body releases cytokines. It's a type of protein and it helps communicate with the cells of your immunity system to kill a pathogen. So when you're sleeping, your body can focus a lot more on fighting pathogens, breaking fevers and all that good stuff you can't really do if you're investigating a murder case like you are right now."
"You missed" — Aitana sniffled again — "the numbers. Where are the numbers?"
"I was trying to make it easier for you right now."
"Save them for me when I get better, alright?"
"Of course," Spencer nodded at her. She seemed to be close to that much needed nap. "Um, Aitana, I gotta ask you something."
Aitana had closed her eyes already but she nodded that she was listening.
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about Morgan playing a prank on me, would you?"
Aitana shrugged her shoulders. "Was it on t.v.?"
Spencer half smiled at her. She had no idea what she was saying. "No, it wasn't."
Aitana let out a small breath and opened her eyes. "I think I need some pills for my headache. I have some on the desk over there."
"Got it..." Spencer walked over to the desk where many things were left sprawled over. He found a small pill box and opened it up. He took out the Tylenol pills and grabbed one of the hotel water bottles. "So then, nothing on that prank?"
Aitana sat up and grabbed the bottle from him, opening it up. She then took the pills. "I mean...it was on t.v., right?" She popped the pills into her mouth and took a swig of water to swallow them.
"I don't think it was," Spencer said gently, not wanting to her irritate her.
"But it was," Aitana nodded to herself. "And-and Morgan...he..." She handed Spencer the water bottle who then placed it on her nightstand. By the time he looked back at her, she was already lying down again. "I'm not being very useful to you right now, am I?" she asked with a clear disappointment in her voice.
Spencer was much too kind to tell her the truth. "You're being extremely helpful." He was smart enough to deduce that through Aitana's rambles, there had to be some truth to it. Morgan had to have done something while she was around him. "Aitana, there's something you might be able to help me with right now...if you're up to it."
It was actually kind of adorable the way Aitana's face lit up. "Really? For the case?"
"Um...yeah…" Spencer thought there was no point in going over the mechanics of things if Aitana wasn't going to remember them anyways. Plus, she didn't need to be bothered with his tinkering ideas for a good prank.
"Okay, I'm all ears…" A moment later, Aitana was tapping her left ear. "Actually, I'm all ear," she said. "One's gotten a little plugged."
Spencer chuckled. Poor thing.
~0~
By night, the unsub had been located and after an extensive search, apprehended as well. The team was back on their way home late in the evening. Hotch, JJ and Emily sat together going over some paperwork. Rossi sat with Morgan on one side of a table while Spencer and Aitana sat opposite of them. Morgan had started up his music when Aitana's insistence about her "allergies" against Rossi became too loud. He learned to love her but bless her heart, when she was sick she was even more stubborn. Spencer was lucky as he had fallen asleep.
"No, no, Rossi, they're just allergies," Aitana said, taking in a deep sniff. She perched her elbows on the table and rested her cheeks against her palms.
Rossi watched in bemusement as she struggled to keep her eyes open. "Why don't you take a nap, huh? Like the kid?"
"Who?" Aitana sniffed again, her head turning to her left to see Spencer. "Oh, I didn't even notice. But I already took a nap earlier. I'm fine now."
Rossi didn't think so. "It wouldn't hurt to take another one—"
Morgan suddenly jumped in his seat, startling Rossi. He pulled his headphones off, shooting a glare at Spencer. "Ok, kid, that was cute. But that's all you got?" Spencer "snored" as he slept.
"Do I hear screaming?" Aitana squeezed one eye shut. Rossi nodded his head.
Morgan's cell phone went off. "It's Garcia."
"Hm, do you know...I called her earlier..." Aitana closed her eyes for a second, just for a second, "I think Spencer asked me to…"
Before Morgan could ask her about that, he heard fresh new screams in his ear. "Dammit!" He yanked his phone from his ear, snapping his phone shut.
Spencer "slept" but his growing smile was giving him up. Rossi stuck a hand between the two and waved a white napkin for peace.
"Nu-uh," Morgan shook his head. His eyes locked on Spencer. "All right, Reid, it's on. Just know that paybacks are a bitch." He glanced at Aitana, about to reprimand her for her participation but seeing her head fall on the table with a thud softened his annoyance. Participant or not, she probably didn't even remember a thing.
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