The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid X Reader) - Chapter Six

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter Six

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Chapter Six Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 6407 Warnings: major angst, major fluff, mentions of murder, graphic descriptions of dead bodies, crime scenes, near-death experiences, slow-burnish romance, death, canon violence, rape, swearing, guns, knives, prostitution, canon cuteness of the team. Spoilers: Maeve's death, mentions of previous cases or canon events from seasons 1-10.

Spencer and you have an unspoken connection with one another. Nothing has ever happened between you two, especially since everything went down with Maeve, but your love has grown and overcome and is now clear as day to everyone. However, just when Spencer builds up enough courage to ask you out officially, you're requested on an undercover mission that halts your budding relationship in its tracks.

Months go by without a word from you until bodies of prostitutes start showing up in New York and the BAU is brought in to help. Spencer and you finally reunite as both your cases collide, but your lives and your love are both on the line now.

Will you and Spencer be able to find the way back home this time?

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Epilogue

~~~

Spencer stared at the blank screen, mortification petrifying him in place. He was unable to tear his eyes away from where'd he'd last seen your face just before Walter Khan's boot crushed their feed.

Him, Hotch and Kate had arrived back at the station by the time you'd been placed in the car. The further you were driven, the more glitchy the feed became. Some words didn't come through, images flickered every now and again. The camera wasn't able to catch all of what went down during the meeting, but you'd made sure to get a good look at the big seller, knowing your team would use his image to find out who he was and find out where he would be hiding out.

Spencer had to hold back vomit whenever Khan went close to you, no doubt putting his disgusting, murderous hands all over you. Even more so when you'd been taken to the Warehouse and saw the girls, saw the torture display in the middle of the room. How many girls had dangled in the middle of that room and suffered his torture? How young had they been?

When you began walking to the meeting room, Spencer had thought you'd made it out of there. That you were finally coming home.

But you had turned around, ran back for those innocent girls. You had been caught, your pained cries whenever Walter punched you still ringing in Spencer's ears.

The worst part, though, was Khan had known the whole time.

'Did you guys hear that? You think you outsmarted me? Think again.'

That's when the line went dead, squashed under Khan's boot. But not before he caught a glimpse of your face. Blood gushing from your nose down your chin, hand clutching at your ribs where you'd been punched. However, a fire of defiance burned bright in your E/C eyes, visible even from the low angle.

But that did nothing to quell the rising wave of anger and fear in Spencer, raging like a tsunami higher and higher with each passing second the screen remained dead.

Where you had disappeared from in the blink of an eye; and there was nothing Spencer could do about it.

'Get it back up,' Spencer found himself demanding. To who, he really didn't know. When no one answered, the wave rose higher. 'Get it back up!'

'I-I'm trying!" Penelope cried over the speaker phone. 'Wherever they took her, they did well to make sure no cell towers were near it. Or they have really good cell blocks that pretty much render them invisible. That's what made the feed so glitchy, they're like in the middle of nowhere.'

'What about the camera? Can you track it?'

'Yes, but again, the cell blocks blocked that signal too. I can't tell you where they went outside of lower Manhattan.'

The urge to scream was almost unbearable. Instead, Spencer drove his fingers through his unruly hair, pulling at longer strands harshly to get his mind to focus on something else momentarily. This couldn't be happening. You were safe, you were home free. Damnit, why did you have to go back?

'Alert train stations south bound that drivers and passengers should keep their eyes out for those girls along any tracks,' Hotch commanded to Holt. 'Send as many officers out along those tracks from the nearest stations. Those girls are the key to finding L/N, but they're being hunted so we need to find them first.'

'Of course,' Holt managed to get out, his face pale with terror. Good, Spencer thought. Holt at least had half a mind to look guilty, considering he was the one that put you there.

'I'll go with you, we'll need as many people on the ground as we can,' Derek offered, to which Hotch nodded his approval and Derek jogged after Holt as he ran back into the office.

Spencer's feet moved before his mouth did, halfway to the door before he said, 'I'm going, too.'

'No,' Hotch said. 'I need you to stay here and work with Garcia on a geographical profile on Walter Khan. Find out everything about him, more importantly whether he has any major properties south of Manhattan he could be operating out of.'

Spencer opened his mouth to argue. How could Hotch expect him to sit idly by a map while you were with the unsub being beaten or worse...

A gentle hand gripped his shoulder, forcing him to look down at a concerned-looking JJ. 'Don't worry, Spence,' she said softly. 'Kate and I will go help as well. You and Pen are the only ones who can figure this out, so the sooner you do that, the quicker we can bring Y/N home, okay?'

Usually, the logical answer presented itself in Spencer's mind first. What JJ said was the most logical explanation, he knew. Even so, his heart yearned to find Walter Khan and wring his neck for all he was worth. It was an overwhelming urge, similar to the one he had when on his dilaudid addiction many years ago.

The memories of what that addiction did to him - how it almost destroyed his life - was what brought him back to his logical conclusion.

He nodded at JJ and stepped aside so her and Kate could follow Derek. Kate gave him a sympathetic smile and a gentle squeeze of his upper arm, then her and JJ were gone. That left himself, Rossi, Penelope on the phone, and Hotch.

'Dave,' Hotch said, 'You and I are going down to the Chateau and questioning Madame Lacroix. She's got to be back there by now. And she's going to tell us everything she knows about the operation this time.'

'Whether she likes it or not,' Rossi added, nodding at Hotch in agreement as he made to pick up his coat from the chair he'd previously been sitting on.

'Waitwaitwaitwait!' The high pitch urgency of Penelope's voice halted Hotch and Rossi's movements as her face appeared on the huge screen, scrunched with worry.

'What is it, Garcia?' Hotch asked.

'I've been trying to track Y/N's camera location since she got to wherever they're holding her,' she explained, her voice a little high-pitched in desperation. She continued typing furiously on her keyboard as she did.

'You found her?' Spencer asked, his voice desperate, hopeful.

'I wish I could say yes, boy wonder,' she apologised. 'However, while tracking, an unknown window popped up. Check this out...'

Another few clicks on her end and a window - the one she found - popped up beside Penelope's face. The image in that window, however, had Spencer's stomach plummeting through the ground.

You hung with your hands above your head by a chain in the middle of a room, your now bare feet just scraping along the hay that lay all around the floor. You were back in the Warehouse, in the place where you'd shown Spencer and the team where the girls were held and-

'Oh my God,' Penelope breathed out, voice trembling with horror at your beaten state. The camera appeared to be setup on a tripod, keeping your entire body in frame. They'd all seen you fight, but only now could they see the damage you'd taken.

Blood dripped from your nose, down your chin and had already stained the front of your dress a deeper scarlet. Your breaths were laboured, as if you were concentrating on keeping yourself from passing out. You were too far away to make out any other injuries, but Spencer had no doubt the bruises hadn't come out just yet.

'Garcia,' Hotch began, but even in her shocked state, Penelope answered.

'Already on it, sir,' she said, ignoring the tears running down her cheeks to type into her keyboard. 'Triangulating where the feed is coming from.'

It was like the world was slowing down for Spencer the longer he looked at you hanging there. The team had always joked that his IQ always slashed in half whenever he was around you. But that was usually because he couldn't find the words to talk to you properly, how to articulate in the right words just exactly how you made him feel.

In a way, the same thing was happening to him right now, but he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't think because of terror. Because of Walter Khan, who finally strolled into frame, suit jacket discarded and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up. His rings glinted under the fluorescent lights as he waved at the camera, a smug grin on his face.

'Hi there, FBI,' he said in a sing-song voice. He looked over his shoulder, shuffled so the camera could see you again. 'Say hi to your friends, Y/N. I'm sure they're just... so happy to see you.'

You didn't respond, keeping your gaze just south of the camera, barely blinking. 'She's disassociating,' Rossi stated, recognising like Spencer, that far away look in your eyes. 'She's preparing for torture.'

Spencer gulped as Khan walked over to you slowly, prowling around you like a predator admiring his catch for the night. He remained silent as he did, and Spencer wondered for a moment if that was all he was going to do.

With the speed of a striking snake, however, he gripped your chin with one hand, the chain holding you rattling as you tried and failed to pull away. Grunts of effort escaped you as he forced you to look at the camera.

'Now, now, Y/N,' he cooed, brushing your loose hair away from your face with his free hand. 'There's no need to be shy. Say something.'

Before you could even react, he slammed his fist into your stomach, ripping a pained groan from you. But not a scream. You bit your lip hard. You probably didn't want to give Khan the satisfaction of hearing your pain. A small, hopeful part inside Spencer warmed with pride at your resilience.

Khan let go of your face and took a step back, eyes raking you up and down with a sick, sadistic admiration. 'So you think you're tough, huh?' he challenged, walking to stand behind you and place both hands on your right shoulder. 'Come on, don't hold back those beautiful sounds, baby.'

In one sharp motion, he pressed either side of your shoulder in opposite directions, causing a loud pop to echo through the room. A sharp squeak escaped your lips, but you bit down on your lip again, allowing nothing else out. The light glinted off the tears that brimmed your E/C eyes, but they did not fall. You would not let them, Spencer realised.

Khan's lips split into a sadistic grin, one that clearly revelled in the pain he brought to you. Fire stirred in the pit of Spencer's stomach, which then spread through his limbs, to the tips of his fingers, toes and head.

Never in his life had he had the greater urge to physically harm someone than Walter Khan in that moment.

'So beautiful,' Khan continued, his gentle strokes across your bloodied chin a stark contrast to his previous harsh movement. 'I knew you'd be my favourite the moment you walked through the door. You're not like other girls...'

Bile rose in Spencer's throat when Khan leaned in close to you and tried to kiss you on the lips. You still had enough strength in you to turn away so he brushed your cheek instead. When Khan tried to tilt your head to kiss you properly, you lashed out with your teeth, catching his upper lip and yanking on it. Hard.

Khan pulled back at the sudden attack with an agonised cry, clasping both hands on his lip. Blood seeped through his hands, and when he pulled away, Spencer saw that Khan's teeth and chin were covered in blood.

'Bitch,' he swore, slamming a fist a little higher than your stomach this time, no doubt breaking some ribs. You sucked in air loudly, your gasp masking the cry that Spencer could tell wanted to come out. God, she must be in so much pain. It sickened Spencer knowing what was happening to you and not being able to do anything about it.

'Garcia, anything?' Hotch asked, his usually steady voice cracking with worry as he continued to look at the screen.

'I'm trying, sir. I'm trying!' she cried.

As if sensing their urgency, Khan looked back to the camera and walked back over until only he was in the frame. Drops of blood stained his white shirt, but he didn't seem to notice as he grinned maniacally into the camera. Although Spencer knew he couldn't see them, he felt like Khan was looking directly at him, taunting him, challenging him.

'By the time you find her,' he began, 'she'll be dead. And I'll be long gone. Until next time, FBI.'

Walter Khan's smile was the last thing Spencer saw before the screen went black and the window closed and now it was only him, Penelope, Hotch and Rossi again.

'I-I'm sorry, sir,' Penelope managed out, her voice barely higher than a whisper. 'I-I-I couldn't f-find her. The signal was being rerouted all across the world.'

'We've got to move fast,' Hotch said, and him and Rossi were gone.

Spencer didn't say a word to begin with, unable to get the image of you hanging in that torture chamber out of his head.

By the time you find her, she'll be dead.

He never thought anyone of his team mates would go out being killed in action. Plenty have come and gone from the team, but not been killed. In some naive way, he figured you all were invincible - that nothing would tear you apart.

But after discovering Gideon dead only a few weeks ago, that fantasy of the team staying together forever was cracked. With your life now on the line, too, the cracks were starting to get bigger, with some pieces falling away entirely.

'Spencer,' Penelope's gentle voice brought him out of his own bubble of despair. 'I'm so sorry.'

The overwhelming urge to scream welled up in him - he didn't quite know for who or for what he wanted to scream at, just that it sounded like a better action to take than punching someone. But he didn't scream.

Instead, he gathered himself and turned to look at Penelope, face steeled by sheer will because he had to keep it together if he wanted to bring you home. 'It's Khan who should be sorry,' he replied, voice steady with threat. 'Let's get to work.'

~~~

Pain. It's all you felt. Even three hours later after Khan's beating, you still felt the ghost of his fist pounding into your stomach, into your ribcage. A sharp, piercing pain ricocheted through them whenever you inhaled too quickly. Definitely two or three broken, you concluded.

You laid on the hay on the floor. Khan had lowered your chain which alleviated some pain and pressure from your dislocated shoulder and bruising wrists. But he hadn't done it to help you. 'Don't want you breaking too soon, Y/N,' he had whispered to you when he'd laid you gently to rest. And from his accompanying smile, you knew it was just all a game to him.

He'd been gone for three hours - counting the time helped you forget the pain and terror wracking your body. Despite that, you hadn't allowed yourself to sleep. Daylight seeped through the top windows, bathing you in a warm glow that made you shiver with momentary bliss. You didn't realise how cold you were until the rays hit you.

The metallic taste of blood still haunted your lips even now that your nose had stopped running with it. It still throbbed though, but it was a dull ache in comparison to your shoulder. You could only imagine how rough you looked, and not in a good way.

The thought made you smile, if only for a moment.

The soft patter of footsteps made you sit upright despite your pain, made you pull your hands close to your chest and look at the door as it opened. You kept your face neutral as you watched Walter Khan walk in alone. He wore a new suit today: navy blue with a lilac undershirt and a navy tie with lighter blue and purple flowers embroidered onto it randomly. God, he was pretentious in every manner of the word.

He didn't walk to you straight away as you expected. Instead, he walked over to the table of torture devices to a remote hanging from the ceiling just above it. He pressed the upper button and suddenly you were jerked upwards as the chain retracted higher. You couldn't contain the yelp of pain that escaped you as your arms were pulled harshly over your head once more, placing intense pressure on your throbbing shoulder once more. He let go of the button just before your feet left the ground entirely.

Satisfied, he grabbed a clean towel and a bucket that sat underneath the table. He picked them both up and walked over to you, placed them both on the ground as he continued to look you over. He did that for a minute in silence before you couldn't take it anymore.

'What?' you asked in mock confusion. 'Have I got something on my face?'

You hated how that brought a smile to his ugly face. 'You really should lay off on the moxie, sweetheart,' he said, crouching to wet the towel in the bucket before standing back up to continue talking. 'I really do like that in a girl.'

'Girl, huh? That your preferred age?'

He shrugged, bringing the towel up to your face. Before you could lean away, he used his free hand to grip your chin, keeping you with a firm hold in place as he dabbed the wet towel across your chin, around your nose, and across your lips.

He was cleaning you up.

You were more confused than disgusted. Perhaps a little relieved to be rid of the taste of blood finally, but you would never admit that. If his goal was to kill you, why bother cleaning you up?

His dabs at your face were uncharacteristically soft. 'You've done this before,' you said, only now realising how hoarse your throat was from dehydration and the cold air.

He nodded, his eyes never straying from his task. 'I prefer my girls to be... cleaner than other ones.' He meant other prostitutes, other establishments, you realised. It was a compulsion, even knowing you weren't one of his "girls".

'Would you have to clean Roxy and the others up, too?' you asked despite knowing the answer. 'You get off on seeing others bleed, don't you Khan. It wasn't enough that you would use them, strip them of their dignity, as if they were just toys.'

One second you were breathing air, the next you were choking underneath the crushing pressure that was Khan's grip. His hold was so strong it had you seeing stars in seconds.

'I would stop talking if I were you, bitch,' he hissed, venom dripping from every word. His calm demeanour remained intact, but even with your blurred vision you saw an animalistic rage burning in his eyes.

A caged animal just waiting to be unleashed.

'You don't know anything about me,' he continued. 'And you don't know the half of what I am capable of.'

His grip on you eased a little but not completely. However, it was enough for you to find your voice again. 'I know,' you started, voice slightly wheezy from the lack of air, 'you must have suffered under the hands of someone, probably a woman in the prostitution business, when you were younger. Otherwise... why would you hate women so much?'

He gave you a strange look, one that was sceptical, angry, and intrigued at the same time. Good, if he was off guard, he might slip up and give you something of value.

'Was it your mother?' you asked. 'A sister, aunt?' When he didn't answer you continued. 'Whoever it was must be the reason why you feel as if you've been let down your entire life. That's why you built this empire, isn't it? But even now, successful and thriving off others' pain... that person made you feel you are not enough, and so nothing ever will be. But that person is gone, and you can't show them how successful you've been. That's why you hurt others, right? Because, not only can't you hurt her, you refuse to hurt the one person you hate the most... yourself.'

He stepped back from you completely, and, for the first time, his calm facade breaks to show slivers of horror and shock at your observation. Looks like I hit the nail on the head.

He looked at you for a moment longer, that haunted expression on his face making him look more sick as he shadows of birds flew over his face. You became concerned when he suddenly ran out of the room, leaving you hanging with a clean face and more questions than answers.

You had gotten under his skin; he'd shown you a weak point in his life that you could use against him. He'd looked rattled, which made you more scared than when he was calm. Walter Khan didn't strike you as the kind of man that didn't always make sure he had the upper hand in every situation he walked into. But when he didn't, when he was backed into a corner...

Caged animal waiting to be unleashed.

'What have I done?' you asked into the empty room, but you were still surprised when no one answered back.

~~~

When his vision began splitting in two, Spencer rubbed at his tired eyes. He'd been staring at the map the police station had provided for over five hours now. Him and Penelope had found nothing - no properties in his name, no previous history in the areas, nothing.

But Spencer had kept looking though, refusing to believe that Walter Khan's trail went cold here. Not when he was doing who knew what to you. It was the only thought that kept him motivated, kept his tired eyes from closing entirely on him despite their great protest.

The rising sun wasn't helping with his vision either. After being awake all night, the introduction to natural light and blue skies was a shock to the system he was still adjusting to.

'Any updates from Morgan, JJ or Kate?' he asked, his voice rumbling with exhaustion.

Penelope had remained on the video feed since the others had left, refusing to leave Spencer alone. Maybe she thought he would do something reckless without supervision. If he was being honest, he couldn't blame her for thinking that, not when the murderous urge to strangle Khan with all Spencer's might tingled the tips of his fingers.

Or maybe that was the twelve cups of coffee he'd had in the past five hours finally kicking in.

'Not yet, sorry.' Penelope said wistfully, blinking several times as she continued looking at a screen off to the side of the camera. Even in her tired state, she refused to rub at her face like Spencer in order to preserve her glorious makeup. Spencer had to admit it was impressive. She had a lot more self control than she gave herself credit for.

Just the thought alone had him rubbing his eyes again. 'Are you sure there isn't anything we've missed? What about Q25, Garcia? What's there?'

'Nothing but trees once more, boy wonder.' She heaved a sad, frustrated sigh. 'We've been looking at the same area for hours now and still nothing! What am I doing wrong?'

'It's not you, Garcia,' Spencer offered politely. Truthfully, he simultaneously felt no one was doing enough to find you, and yet they were exhausting everything they could to do so. But he was the one who promised to bring you home, who said it would all be over soon.

It was his fault you were still not found. There was something he wasn't seeing, and every second his supposedly big brain spent trying to figure it out was another second you could be being tortured.

He didn't let the thought that maybe you were already dead linger too long. Not when Hotch and Rossi stormed into the room, exhaustion and anger lining their weary faces. Spencer glanced behind them to see Madame Lacroix and two other men - one older with grey hair, the other much younger - being escorted into holding cells down the corridor.

'Madame Lacroix was a dead end,' Hotch explained before anyone could ask. 'But we managed to expose them for their involvement in Khan's business, and also the other illegal trades they've all been dealing with on the side. L/N's reports and photographs should be enough evidence to charge them on at least that.'

'But we can't bust them just yet on Khan,' Rossi added, his tone defeated. 'Any luck on the geo-profile?'

Spencer shook his head regrettably. 'There are no properties or anything that may indicate he has ties in the direction we think he's operating out of.'

'It's either just woodland or innocent estate living,' Penelope added. 'All names check out, they're not aliases.'

'Morgan, JJ, and Kate better find those girls soon then,' Rossi said. 'They seem to be our only guide to where Khan is hiding out.'

'The thing that is odd to me though,' Hotch started, 'is why he is hanging around. Why not kill L/N knowing she's an agent? Why not skip town or relocate as soon as possible?'

'Because it's a compulsion now,' Spencer found himself saying. He wasn't sure if it was from lack of sleep that he sounded delusional, but he kept talking. He needed to talk, anything to keep his mind off the alternatives. 'Y/N engrained herself so much into his operation that he may have deluded himself into thinking he can make her one of his girls for real.'

'So he'll keep her and use her just like the others,' Rossi said grimly. 'And when she eventually lets him down - as they all have - he'll kill her.'

'We'll find her before it gets to that point,' Hotch said so assuredly that Spencer almost believed it. But the odds were against them, and time was running out.

As if the universe was listening in, Penelope's gasp sent tremors of terror through Spencer as they all turned to her on the screen. 'Guys! The feed is back online!'

'Pull it up and start tracking it,' Hotch ordered, and Penelope didn't need telling twice as she did just that.

You were hanging again, but the blood that covered the lower half of your face was now gone. Your dress was ruffled and dirty in some places, and straws of hay were tangled in your messy hair. He must've lowered you for the remainder of the night, but from the dark circles under your weary eyes, Spencer guessed you hadn't slept.

'He cleaned her up,' Rossi noticed too.

'That's a good thing right?' Penelope said, pausing her tracking for a second.

'No,' Spencer replied. 'It means he's got more in store for her.'

'You were right, Reid. It's a compulsion,' Rossi added.

'Keep tracking, Garcia,' Hotch said.

And there he was.

Walter Khan entered the frame, but instead of taunting them through the camera like last time, he walked straight over to you as if the camera wasn't even on. He grasped your chin, causing you to jerk backwards with a gasp.

'How did you know that?' he asked, voice tight and restrained. When you didn't answer, he pulled you closer with a harsh tug that caused the chains to rattle. 'How did you know?!'

'Lucky... Lucky guess, I suppose,' you replied, eyes flicking from Khan to the camera and back. Something had happened between the last feed and now, Spencer concluded. Some interaction that has brought out the frantic Khan.

'No!' He slapped you, sending you spinning around on the chain. When you swung back towards the camera, the sun highlighted the blood on your lip, how it trembled as you did. 'You knew about my life! No one does! So how would an undercover agent of all people know?'

'Maybe you're just... not as slick as you think you are,' you said in between haggard breaths. Spencer could only imagine how much pain you were in. He was both extremely proud of and extremely terrified for you.

Khan let out a growl that rattled the conference room it was that loud. He lashed out with a hard punch to your gut, then a slanted punch on your knee, receiving a loud crunch and crack in return.

For the first time since being caught, you screamed. It was the most horrible sound Spencer had ever heard in his life - even worse than the gunshot that killed Maeve. It echoed through the Warehouse, a guttural, pained sound that would haunt not only Spencer's dreams but Hotch, Rossi, and Penelope's too.

You gathered yourself quickly and bit down on your lip, silencing your cries. Sunlight showed the tears that gathered at your eyes, still refusing to fall. But Spencer could tell it was taking all you had to keep it together. You knew they were watching. You probably were holding it together for them.

The pride and terror he felt for you was overwhelming to a point his knees almost buckled. But if you could keep it together while being tortured, he could do it too.

Once you'd calmed your breathing, you looked back at Khan, hate in your beautiful E/C eyes. 'Beating me... will get you nowhere... I refuse... to break to you.'

Everyone held their breaths as you held your stare with Khan, and Spencer realised it then.

It hit him in consistent waves that made it hard to catch his breath or even fully realise what was happening. It was how you stared down the crook man, unrelenting, unwavering, unbreakable. It was how, even at you most vulnerable, you made sure to put on a brave face for the team, for him. He hadn't dared think it before - not after Maeve. But the heavy thuds of his heart couldn't be mistaken.

Khan contemplated you for a moment, and then pulled out a pocket knife from his pants. He was calm again which Spencer didn't like one bit. 'Very well, then. You want to act tough?' He didn't wait for a reply as he sliced the top button of your dress off expertly. Then another and another, until almost the entirety of your bra showed. 'Let's see how tough you really are.'

Your eyes blew wide in terror finally realising what his intentions were. Spencer realised a second after, and his blood boiled painfully.

'Garcia,' Spencer managed out, unable to take his eyes off you as Khan sliced off another button and another. By the time he got to the last one, exposing your underwear too, Spencer was on the verge of a panic attack. 'Garcia!'

'I'm honing in on it now!' she called back, but it wasn't enough to quell his fear.

Khan slipped off the dress with a few more slices of the knife, then proceeded to pocket it and press himself against your back. You tried pulling away, but Khan's arms were around you already, feeling you everywhere, violating you.

That's when the tears finally fell. A broken sob escaped your bloodied, trembling lips as Khan's hands dragged all over you, brushing away the hair on your neck to press a sickeningly gentle kiss there.

But instead of completely crumbling, you looked directly into the camera and said, 'I would've said yes.'

For a moment it was just him and you. You words were so soft he almost didn't believe you said them. Spencer saw out of the corner of his eyes Hotch and Rossi didn't understand, but this wasn't about them. You were speaking directly to Spencer, probably with full faith that he was watching and that he was on his way to save you already.

Khan paused his ministrations at the odd statement, giving you a confused look. 'What?'

'I would've said yes,' you repeated, but this time there was a resignation to your words. As if you accepted that those would be the last words anyone would hear you speak. Spencer quickly realised that, as much as you believed he was coming, you didn't believe you would be alive when he finally did.

Khan followed your gaze to the camera, his expression changing as he realised you weren't talking to him.

'I would've said yes,' you said again, not once looking away from the camera.

Khan's hands retracted from you.

'I would've said yes.'

He walked over to the camera.

'I would've said yes.'

'You disappeared behind his huge frame.

'I would've said yes.'

He reached out to switch it off.

'I would've said-'

The feed went dark. The room fell silent, but only for a second. As Spencer stormed out of the room, slamming the door open as he did. He didn't know where he was going, just that he had to get out of that room.

I would've said yes.

The way you'd said it was like you were trying to make sure he heard you - that, as your last words to him, you wanted to let him know of what could've been.

He stormed into the break room where thankfully nobody resided in. He slammed his fist on one of the tables, and kicked at the chair residing at it. Anger coursed through every fibre in him, at Khan, at Holt, at himself.

I would've said yes.

'Reid.'

Spencer turned to find Rossi standing in the doorway, concern wrinkling his weathered features more. 'You okay?' he asked, slowly walking into the room fully then closing the door behind him. 'What was that about?'

'She would've said yes,' was all Spencer could manage out in his wild state of mind, finding it hard to breathe he was so wound up. 'She would've...'

'I heard that,' Rossi said gently. 'I don't know what that means. But you clearly do. So spill, boy genius. What did she mean by that?'

Spencer tugged at his hair in frustration. 'Before she left I asked her out,' he explained, voice rising as his worry did. 'She was never able to give me an answer because she was sworn to secrecy, and I thought that all this time she never liked me liked that because we've been friends for so long, but she would've said yes. You heard her! She would've said yes! And now she-'

'Okay, okay, okay,' Rossi interrupted, gently grabbing Spencer by his arms and guiding him to the chair he'd kicked just before. Spencer didn't have the strength to fight the older man, allowing himself to be guided into a seat.

Rossi crouched in front of Spencer, holding Spencer's shaking hands in his steady ones. 'Just breathe, Reid. Just breathe.'

Spencer followed Rossi' instructions as best as he could, but panic and despair had already crept in. 'Do you know,' he started, lips trembling, voice quaking with emotions he couldn't quite understand, 'that friendships that last longer than seven years... that they are meant to last for life? Y/N and I... we've been friends for a decade.'

'I know,' Rossi answered gently. 'You, JJ, Penelope and Y/N are quite close.'

'Yes, but,' Spencer continued through the sniffles, 'Y/N's always been there. Not just for me, but with me. I never realised how integral to my life she was until she left. I never realised that my love for her was something more until it was too late.'

'You love her?'

Only when Rossi pointed it out did Spencer realise what he'd admitted. But it wasn't a casual slip of the tongue - it was intentional, it was true, it was the only thing he wanted to say because he hated how long it took him to realise it for himself.

He nodded slowly, tears running down his cheeks. 'I didn't know it at first, but it didn't just happen overnight. Truth is... I think I've loved her from the day I met her. Platonically at first, but it's grown as we have, and she is so precious to me Rossi. I can't lose her. I can't.'

Sobs wracked his boney body as he broke down. Rossi pulled him into an awkward but comforting hug, and Spencer couldn't express how grateful he was for such comfort. Rossi had grown into the father figure he'd made Gideon out to be; and while Spencer had learnt to stand on his own two feet, it was reassuring knowing he had someone older and wiser to rely upon.

'It's like Maeve all over again,' Spencer found himself saying, still clinging onto Rossi like his life depended on it. 'Just when I glimpse happiness, it's snatched away. And there is nothing I can do about it.'

'No, no,' Rossi said, pulling back to look Spencer directly in his amber eyes. 'You listen to me, boy wonder. We are going to find her, and we're going to bring her home. And you are going to tell her how you feel and finally take her on a date. Is that understood?' When Spencer didn't answer, Rossi continued.

'Remember how when Maeve died, you holed yourself up in your apartment for weeks, and didn't talk to anyone?' Spencer nodded, but only because he didn't quite understand why Rossi was bringing it up. 'And remember how we all came by to visit, but mostly Y/N? That was because she believed you were strong enough to get through it. She never doubted you, never gave up on you, Spence. Are you really going to return the favour by giving up on her?'

Spencer stared at Rossi for a moment, perplexed that he even would suggest such a thing. He quickly wiped his tears away, though. 'No,' he answered, voice stern and hopeful.

'Good,' Rossi replied, standing back up. 'Now use that big brain of yours. There's got to be something that we missed.'

Before Spencer could answer, the door to the break room swung open to reveal a flustered Derek Morgan. 'We found them,' he said between heavy breaths. 'We found the girls.'

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Confession

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Confession  Word Count: 3863 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement. Warnings: mentions of murder, crime scene, guns, near-death experience, slow-burn romance, and some MAJOR FLUFF!  Spoilers: none

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer: your love confession to one another.

Full story | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

He didn't hear your heart-stopping compliment again until it was almost too late.

After the Staunton case, you and Spencer had been... odd. Well, mainly Spencer, as he spoke as little as possible to you during cases, and always offered to go with anyone else but you on certain tasks. He even stopped coming over to yours for movie night each Saturday, claiming each time to be busy or unwell. It was Spencer's only way of ensuring nothing like that night ever happened again.

He convinced himself the moment was fleeting, just a mixture of chemicals in his brain combined with the adrenaline of being with a beautiful women he very much admired that made him read the signs wrong. You were friends, that was all you were, and all he would ever allow you to be.

This went on for three months.

And you were miserable.

Emily, JJ and Penelope recognised the change in your demeanour at work first, and when they found out the reason behind it, they slapped Spencer upside the head on their way out of the office one Friday afternoon and took you with them, promising a wonderful night out on the town.

That night, to Spencer's eventual annoyance, you'd met someone. A charming young firefighter named Riley who lived in Washington DC and was just in town to see family.

That night, you hooked up. And the next morning, he asked you on a date. That date led to another, then more. You were on your way to another one tonight when you got a phone call from JJ saying they found the latest unsub's house and were planning a raid on it.

Spencer knew you were on a date when he also got the phone call to come along. Despite his distance (by his own choice, he always had to remind himself), he kept tabs on you, checked in on you via others. And while the girls of the team were awfully mad at him, they always answered him when he asked how you were doing.

'You know, for a genius, you really are quite stupid,' JJ told him when he asked about you.

He quirked his eyebrow, genuinely confused. 'I'm sorry?'

'She's heartbroken,' Penelope added. 'Her best friend just gives her the silent treatment out of nowhere after what sounded like a magical night at the theatre. Who wouldn't be upset by that, Reid?'

'I just,' he paused, rallying his thoughts into words that couldn't quite describe how he felt. 'It's complicated.'

'Love shouldn't be complicated, Reid,' Emily interjected, a soft but sad smile gracing her painted lips.

Spencer swallowed thickly at that. 'W-What do you mean?'

Derek finished making his coffee and took a sip of it before answering. 'We all see it, Reid. You don't have to deny anymore how you feel.'

'I'm not denying anything, Morgan.'

'Maybe not to us,' Derek continued. 'But you are definitely denying it to yourself. All I can say is don't wait until it's too late. She's already slipping away.'

That's when Spencer found out about your dates with Riley, and an ugly, selfish, hurt part of him wanted to scream with anger. Mainly at himself, but the damage was done and he had to get over you.

But when you showed up to the unsub's home, your FBI bullet-proof vest on and mascara slightly smeared under your eyes, he was beyond confused. And concerned.

'You're here,' he stated matter-of-factly.

'You sound surprised,' you answered stiffly, loading your gun without even glancing at him.

'To be honest, yeah. JJ and the rest all said you were out tonight. I figured you-'

'What? That I would ignore the call because I had something personal planned?' You finally looked up at him, and man did your cold stare pierce him like an arrow. 'This is my job, Spence. I knew, same as you and everyone else, that I would have to make some sacrifices to do it. So please, don't think so little of me just because I attempted to have a life outside of it.'

He grew more concerned at your choice of words. 'Attempted?' he asked, but then he looked closely at your smeared mascara, at the redness circling your eyes. Like you'd been crying-

'Don't worry about it,' you muttered, brushing past him to meet up with the team. 'You haven't for about four months now.'

Spencer tried to ignore the sting your words brought with them as he followed you to the rest of the team, forcing himself to put the case in front of you. But he'd done that for the past four months as you had so brightly pointed out, and look where it had landed him.

'Now remember,' Hotch started, bringing the team and some other officers in to brief, 'this unsub may use this place as his base to build his bombs, but don't discredit the idea that he wouldn't blow it up to save himself. Tread carefully but be vigilant, he is in the house somewhere. Now move.'

Spencer followed you into the house through the front door, gun and flashlight at the ready. All that could be heard were the soft but swift patter of footsteps as the FBI and local police ran in. The lights were on, but no unsub.

You were silently directed by Hotch to investigate the back end of the house, to which Spencer and Derek followed. You focussed on maintaining your breathing as you tried not to think about your date, Spencer, your heart thrashing in your ribcage. Only the unsub mattered.

The three of you broke into the last room of the house, the laundry. Upon entry, you spotted him, the unsub, running out the back door into the backyard.

'Hey!' you called out, immediately breaking into a sprint after him. You broke out of the laundry onto a cemented path towards a clothes line, chasing after him towards the fence line. But as you stepped off the path and onto the grass, something gave way beneath your feet, followed by a resounding click that had your freezing with fear.

'(L/n), keep going!' Derek shouted from somewhere behind you.

'Hold up!' you cried, throwing an arm back behind you. 'I think the yard is full of bombs.'

'Well, let's go around the front and get him in the back streets, come on!'

'I can't,' you replied back, slightly breathless from running, but also from the fear constricting now your airways.

'Why?' You didn't have to see him to know it was Spencer, concern dripping from just one word.

'Because I'm standing on one.'

Spencer knew it was physically impossible, but he was sure his stomach just dropped out of him and onto the bomb-littered grass around them. This was bad. Like very very bad.

'Shit,' Derek breathed out before bringing his wrist up to his mouth. 'Hotch, the unsub got away over the back fence, send some men to intercept him two blocks north from here.'

'Got it,' Hotch answered efficiently.

'And send the bomb squad out here. Yard is like a mine field and (L/n) is standing on one.'

After that, it didn't take long for the rest of the team to run outside, making extra careful to stand only on the pavements as they got as close to you as they could. Spencer stood the closest, standing directly in front of you as the bomb squad swept the yard for the rest of them.

'I've got some good news and some bad news,' one member of the bomb squad said as she came up to the team. 'Good news is it's the only bomb in the yard.'

'And I just managed to find it. Super,' you muttered, your tone shaky although the intention was to lighten the mood.

'Bad news is it's a pressure-triggered bomb, meaning that if you move even a fraction it'll go off. Also, by stepping on it, you've set of a timer until it explodes. The only way to disarm it seems to be a code of some kind.'

'How long do we have?' Spencer asked, not bothering to mask his desperation. This couldn't be happening. Of all the people, it had to be you.

'Six hours now,' she said grimly. 'My team and I will do everything we can to dismantle it and shut it off manually, but it's built quite strong so it'll be tough to crack open without setting it off. Your best bet will be to get an answer from your bomber.'

'Uniforms just called in,' Rossi said. 'They're bringing him in now.'

'Good,' Hotch said with a ferocity that would send most people running for the hills. 'He's gonna give us that code one way or another.' He turned to you, determination blazing in his eyes. 'Hang tight, (Y/n). We're gonna get you off that thing.'

'I'll hold you to that,' you joked, and you were grateful to receive a soft smile in return from Hotch and the rest of the team. Except for Spencer, he couldn't find it in himself to smile. He could barely think no thanks to your dangerous position.

'I'll stay with (Y/n),' Spencer said, his voice strained compared to his usual calmness.

'Reid,' Derek started, 'you're our best bet to crack open this guy. If we find something-'

'Then I'll have my phone ready to pick up. I'm not leaving her.'

It surprised you the strength you heard hidden underneath his fear. It was there in his eyes too, blazing like Hotch's, except with more warmth, more determination.

Derek looked to Hotch, and Hotch just nodded. 'Okay fine, but you better pick up on the first ring.'

'Promise.'

'I'll stay to help with the bomb squad,' Emily said while also looking at you.

'No,' you said as Hotch, Derek and JJ left. 'You all should go. In case he somehow remotely sets it off himself.'

'We're not leaving,' Reid said firmly, making eye contact with you. 'Not until you're off that bomb, you hear me?'

You wanted to argue, trying to be selfless and strong. But the truth was you were terrified, and to hear Spencer's strength where you lacked helped you push your pride aside and nod in agreement.

Time had flown by and it was now the last ten minutes. Spencer had received phone call after phone call but nothing had been helpful. They'd tried two potential codes already but they didn't work. The bomb squad quickly realised that they only had three chances to get the code right and so they were down to the last chance.

'You guys should really leave,' you said amidst your chattering teeth. It was now just after midnight and your thin button up and the bulletproof vest were not cutting it anymore. Spencer wished he could give you a blanket, a jacket, his own shirt for God's sake if it would keep you warm slightly.

'That's not going to happen,' he answered without hesitation.

You yawned, eyes threatening to droop close. Your legs had gone numb long ago. You were unsure how you were holding yourself up. It certainly wasn't by adrenaline. Perhaps you were frozen in place.

'I mean it, Spence,' you said, bracing yourself as another shiver threatened to spasm your entire body. 'It's the last ten minutes. You should be clear in case it goes off.'

'I'm not going to do that.'

'Damnit, Spencer. Of all the times to be stubborn, you choose now?'

'I'm not being stubborn,' Spencer argued. Were you purposefully trying to tick him off now? 'I'm trying to save your life!'

'You're right, you're not being stubborn. You're being plain stupid,' you retorted. You weren't sure why you were suddenly so angry, you just didn't like him playing the hero when he didn't have to.

'Yes! I am stupid, I admit that. I'll announce that to the entire neighbourhood right now if you want me to! Because if it weren't for me being an idiot, you wouldn't have had those dates, you wouldn't have had a date tonight, and maybe you wouldn't be stuck standing on a bomb right now!'

You stared incredulously at Spencer. He blamed himself for your situation? For Riley?

Despite the bustling of people around them, everything grew silent as youO stared at one another, Spencer's chest heaving as he sucked in air hard.

'Spence,' you said softly, your anger suddenly dissipating. 'I don't blame you for any of this. I would've ended up on this bomb one way or another. Or even worse, it could've been you standing on it. And as for Riley...' You thought the tears would come up again like before, but your eyes remained dry, and your heart didn't pull harshly.

Not for Riley, anyways.

'Did something happen between you two?' Spencer tentatively asked. His tone bordered on concerned and hopeful, demonstrating his torn mindset to whatever you were about to say.

You nodded. 'I told him I had to go to work, which wasn't unusual, but he just flipped. Said he was sick of me choosing you guys over him and that he was finished.'

He hated himself for feeling the slightest bit happy at the news, but his best friend instincts kicked in, and all he wanted to do was reach out and hold you. 'I'm sorry. You could've said no. We would've understood-'

'Spencer, I will always choose you guys over anyone,' you interjected, and the complete seriousness on your face reflected your sincerity brighter than the full moon above. 'I will always choose you, Spence.'

It was then Spencer saw it: the same feeling he'd had swirling in his stomach for months reflected in your eyes. It scared him, but what scared him more was that it would all be gone soon if he didn't do anything about it.

He would be too late, just like Derek said.

The bomb squad lady and Emily walked up to them both, and Spencer did not like the grim expressions on their faces.

'I'm sorry,' the bomb squad lady said. 'It's the last five minutes. There's nothing else we can do but clear out of the blast zone.'

'What about the code?' Spencer pressed, but Emily shook her head.

'Reid, they've gotten nothing out of him. We've got to go.'

'But we can't just leave her here-'

'Trust me, Spencer, I don't want to either!' Emily cried, tears pricking at her eyes at the thought of you dying. 'But we can't do anything for her here. I've got the remote to input the code if they get another one, but until then, we've got to clear from the blast zone.'

'No.' Spencer shook his head vigourously. He couldn't accept this. He wouldn't accept this.

'Spencer,' you tried gently. 'It's okay. I can do the rest alone. I want you to be safe.'

'Well, too bad, because I'm staying.'

You squeezed your eyes shut as tears rushed down your cheeks. 'Damnit, Spencer. Please, just go. Don't make this harder than it already is.'

Spencer took a daring step towards you, the tops of his shoes dangling just over the edge of the pavement. 'I won't abandon you. Not again.'

You were most likely a blubbering mess, your heart hurting so much at the thought that he would get caught up in your mess. 'God, why don't you just leave-'

'Because I love you, (Y/n)!'

The four of you stood dumbfounded as his proclamation echoed through the yard, the house, the street back out the front. Hell, Spencer hoped the whole world heard what he said, because he felt free for the first time in months, weightless, powerful.

And it was all because of you.

'I love you,' he repeated again, softer this time. As the reality of the situation came crashing down on him, tears of his own sprouted in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. He'd finally built up the courage to tell you, and you were minutes away from being blown up.

Through your tears, you find it in yourself to chuckle a little. It's watery and gross-sounding, but Spencer likes it none the less because it's yours, and you haven't lost complete hope. 'Talk about great timing, you big idiot.' And then there it is, that bright smile he saw day one in the office. You wore it with such pride, such strength it pulled at Spencer's heart strings painfully. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer Reid.'

'One minute,' the bomb squad lady said, her tone frantic now. 'We've got to move! Now!'

'Reid, come on!' Emily cried, backing up with the bomb squad.

'I won't abandon her,' he replied, never taking his eyes off you.

'Reid please!'

Before he could reply, though, his phone buzzed, and he immediately answered the call. 'Please tell me you go it.'

'HOME! The code word is HOME!'

'Punch in HOME!' Reid called out to Emily, keeping Derek on the line as he stared at you. If you were to die, he was gonna make damn sure the last thing you saw wasn't an unfamiliar face.

'Are you sure?'

'We're out of time! Do it!'

'Spence...' you muttered. But you never finished your sentence, as your breath got caught while watching Emily punch in the code into the device. You closed your eyes. Soon you would be in eternal darkness. You would not fear it, but embrace it.

But when nothing happened, you dared to sneak a peek at what was going on. You saw Spencer first, who looked at Emily, who looked at the device in her hands. The deathly silence was finally broken at the sound of a green light on the device switching on. You then heard a hundred tiny clicks somewhere underfoot and felt yourself being pushed up back onto level ground.

Spencer finally looked back to you, eyes blown wide with hope he dared not realise. That same hope fuelled your frozen, tired legs, to take the tiniest of steps forward, and when nothing happened, you took your other foot off the bomb and collapsed forward into Spencer's arms.

His heart pounded faster than the jet that flew them all over the country every week as he cradled you simultaneously gently and tightly. You sobbed into his chest, your arms circling around his back and pulling him as tight as possible.

Oh, how he had missed your touch, your affection, your love, you.

'It's okay, you're okay,' he soothed, patting your hair down with one hand while he cradled you with the other. 'I'm here. We're all here.' He realised suddenly he'd dropped his phone, and so with one hand, he reached down and picked it up, bringing it to his ear. 'She's off.'

He barely heard the cheers of excitement and relief on Derek's end before he was hanging up and helping you to your feet. After that, it was a whirlwind of the bomb squad excavating the bomb, paramedics arriving, and CSU investigating the house.

After giving his statement of events to the local police and finishing speaking to other officials, he found you wrapped in a trauma blanket in the open back of an ambulance.

'How are you feeling?' he said as he approached you.

You broke free of your own world to look at Spencer, and a soft smile managed its way onto your lips. 'Well, I can feel my legs again so that's a start. And you?'

'All the better now that you're not standing on a bomb.'

You chuckled, though a red tinge dusted your cheeks out of embarrassment. 'I must admit, it's true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes the moment before you die.'

'Really? What did you see?' Spencer had read articles about this kind of stuff before, but had never spoken with a person who'd experience it themselves.

You didn't answer straight away, instead standing up to face him fully. Your legs felt like jelly a little but you stood strong. 'I saw you,' you replied easily, as if breathing air. 'Only you.'

Spencer couldn't hold it back, his fear, his relief. It all came bubbling out in an ugly sob as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, pressing his face into your hair, using your scent to calm himself. He felt you sobbing too, how your body shook with your own anxieties.

'I missed you,' you said, your words muffled into his chest.

'I know, I'm sorry,' he murmured. 'I missed you, too.' He pulled you back slightly so that he could see your face. He wiped at your tears and forced his best smile just for you. 'But I'm back now. And I'm not going anywhere. That is... if you want me around.'

You heard his silent question, and it made you smile how confident and shy he could be simultaneously.

'Spencer Reid,' you murmured, like what you were about to say next was your biggest secret, 'of course I want you around. I love you.'

He chuckled with relief, tears still pricking at his eyes. But your words sealed your fate, as he used his small amount of confidence to grab the back of your neck gently and pull your lips to his.

You were the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, and dare he compare you the most addictive drug he could ever hope to get high on. He couldn't get enough of you, and it was such a relief to finally let it out how much he needed you to breathe.

You were equally breathless, simultaneously feeling all consumed by Spencer's love without also having enough of it. Your fingers danced in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, threading yourself into him as much as possible. The truth was, the past four months were torturous.

'I'm not going anywhere.'

As you both finally broke apart, you pressed your foreheads together, nervous giggles of teenagers bubbling up in you both. This was fresh and new, but the love you had for one another had been there all along. No one was going anywhere.

'Finally!'

You and Spencer looked up to see the rest of the team watching from afar, with Emily and JJ smiling giddily, Derek and Rossi trying to suppress laughter, and Hotch having the simplest of grins on his lips.

'Oh, babygirl is going to have a field day when she hears about this,' Derek said, walking up to clap Spencer on the back and give him a hug. 'Well done, man.'

'It's about time,' Rossi said as the rest of the team joined you both. 'I thought I was going to have to take matters into my own hands.'

'Thank God you didn't,' Emily said, both her and JJ giving you a hug. 'As much as this has been traumatic for all of us, I'm so glad it brought you back together.'

'Say that to my poor legs,' you whined, but you hugged them just as tight. Truthfully, you felt the same. And as Reid held you in his arms that night, having refused to let you out of his sight after your brush with death, you couldn't be more grateful for it, too.

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Connection

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Connection Word Count: 2494 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a history in American law enforcement Warnings: drug addiction, self-depracation, crying, minor fluff if you squint. Spoilers: none

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is one of the six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer: your first real connection.

Full story | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4  | Part 5 | Part 6

It became a casual thing, for you to comment on how wonderful Dr. Spencer Reid was. Every day in the office, whenever you travelled to cases, even out in the field, sometimes in not-so-great situations. 

It was only ever once, but you always managed to find something to say, 'You are a wonder, Dr Reid,' to him. Sometimes it was his full name, sometimes just doctor. Sometimes, he was just Spencer. Apart from JJ, you were the only one who ever really called him by his first name. Oddly enough for him, he liked it when he was just Spencer, not the Boy Genius or freak or computer.

But the next time you told him that and it meant something to him was ten months after he ended his drug addiction.

He sat at his desk in the bullpen finishing some paperwork, or at least attempting to. They'd just gotten back from a long and exhausting case and his brain (the very thing he knew he could always rely on) refused to coordinate with his hands and eyes. The information he wished to write out felt jammed at his fingers tips, appeared blurry in his vision.

'Gosh,' he breathed out, leaning back in his seat defeated as he rubbed at his tired eyes. No doubt black bags sagged beneath them. 

It had been a long, exhausting case. The team had gone to Dallas to find a serial killer who'd been leaving a trail of dead doctors and pharmacists over the span of months which had suddenly turned into weeks, then days once his team joined the case. 

The unsub had spiralled, devolved so to say, alluding to a psychotic break. But when they'd found him, he was not the malicious, sadistic person they'd first expected. Spencer was the first on the scene and had instead found a young man in his early twenties, not much younger than himself. All he'd wanted was some off-market narcotic that took away the pain from the physical abuse he received from his father.

And while Spencer's trauma was not the same, he couldn't help but see the parallels. When he'd looked the young man in the eyes, it was like looking into a mirror. All he saw was himself, drowning in his own trauma, his own fear, his own pain. 

Spencer scoped the bullpen, suddenly noticing the silence. Not a single person was left. He then looked at his watch - half past ten. He hadn't noticed people leaving whatsoever. Not surprising considering his current state, his current condition.

Spencer slowly reached down to the bottom drawer of his desk, a sudden urge coursing through him to do so. Slowly again, almost hesitantly, he pulled it open and leafed through the many spare manilla folders that sat oddly in there until he reached the bottom.

It was just one vial, but just the mere sight of it sent relief rushing through Spencer. Dilaudid. He gently cradled it up to his eyes, admiring how the glass doors of the entrance became obscured as he looked through the transparent but murky liquid. After this case, what he wouldn't give to have a needle right now. Just one hit-

'Well, if it isn't Dr. Spencer Reid burning the midnight oil.'

Spencer almost dropped the vial as he scrambled to shove it deep into his pant pocket just as you appeared out of nowhere from the conference room.

'Sorry,' you said, an apologetic smile already on your lips. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'

'It's okay,' he replied as casually as possible. It was one thing to nearly be caught out by your colleague that you had an illegal narcotic you used to have an addiction for in your hand, but another when that colleague is one you've admired since the day you met. 'I was lost in thought, anyways.'

'Well just as well then. I can only imagine how depthless your brain must go with all that knowledge crammed in there.' You walked down the stairs to the floor of the bullpen and walked to him. You were still in your clothes from the past twenty-four hours, and your light makeup looked like it was lifting off your face like a second skin. Even your unrelenting smile seemed to sag with exhaustion.

Spencer straightened up in his seat, suddenly concerned. 'You okay, (Y/N)? You look-'

'Like trash?' you finished as you pulled up a chair of your own and sat in front of him. 'I have no doubt.'

Spencer looked behind her back into the conference room, his eyebrows furrowing when he spotted stacks of folders and loose paperwork spread across the table. 'That all yours?'

You looked back to the mess of words and paper you'd just escaped and sighed dramatically. 'Oh, yeah. Seems like the longer the case, the more paperwork you have to do. Poor trees.'

'Yeah...' Spencer found it odd how much paperwork you had to get through. Even he didn't have that much to get through. But before he could question you about it, your soft voice filled the damning void that surrounded him.

'How are you feeling, you know, after this case?'

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'Don't give me that,' you say, your smile now replaced by a seriousness Spencer only saw on you when you were making an arrest or in really dire situations. You've worked together for almost three years now, he knew all the faces you pulled, all of your likes and dislikes, how you liked your coffee only after you've completed one task for the day to prove you can survive without it but choose not to. 

He knows you, so it should not be surprising that you know him just as well.

'The moment we found out the unsub's objective, you've been a little... off.'

'Well, it shouldn't be surprising considering that was me just ten months ago,' he said matter-of-factly, pulling back into his shell, putting up his guard. 'I mean, if Hotch hadn't have found out about it, that could've been me-'

'No it wouldn't have.'

Spencer scoffed, but not in a demeaning manner. He just didn't believe you for a moment because he could see the facts, the statistics, in his head. 'Over 45% percent of addicts relapse at least twice. This is without the intervention or support by health care clinics and families and friends, and this case just proved that. So, yes, it could've been-'

'But it wasn't,' you intervened again, your voice echoing like soft thunder through the empty office. It gave you presence, forcing Spencer to look at you, like really look at you, and face what you were about to say.

'You had help and support from people that care about you, Spence,' you continued, sitting forward in your seat. 'And I don't care about the statistics, you're not one of them. You're your own person and you can determine where you add value in life, not by some... statistically-informed percentage prediction... thing.'

That drew a laugh out him, the quiet but sudden sound surprising him slightly. 'Stastically-informed percentage prediction, huh?'

'Shut up,' you grumbled and playfully punched his shoulder. When you both calmed down, you continued. 'When I realised who we were looking for, for a moment I kind of got scared.'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow 'Scared?'

You nodded. 'The truth is that... when you were kidnapped and... you had to endure all that pain alone... I was terrified. We all were. Even when we found you, I was terrified. Because I knew you would never be the same, and not that it's your problem, but I knew in that moment that I would never forgive myself for not finding you sooner. For not going with you and JJ to the farm.'

Tears welled up in your eyes and Spencer immediately leant forward. To do what, he didn't know, he just needed you to know he was there for you, like you always were for him.

'I'm sorry,' you mutter, blinking the tears away before they could fall. 'Your trauma is not my own. I have no right to express my guilt.'

'There's nothing to feel guilty for,' he said, reaching out slowly with his hands, the ones that slightly shook as he laid them on your own. 

To his relief, you smiled. It wasn't full, but it was there. 'You're a horrible liar, Spencer Reid.' That brought some laughter out of you both, lightening the suffocating air of the office. 

'But even when we found out about you and the dilaudid,' you continued, pulling yourself together, if only to let Spencer know your true thoughts. 'I wasn't even mad.'

A large lump formed in Spencer's throat, and he had a hard time swallowing it along with the threat of tears that burned behind his amber eyes. 'You... You weren't?' 

It was the mixture of surprise and hope that pulled at your heart, that made you feel obligated to keep speaking. 'Why should I have been? I was not the one who was tortured mentally and physically by a split-personality murderer; and who also witnesses the darkest, most ugliest aspects of humanity every single day of his life. It was not my place to judge how you hold onto your own humanity.'

Your eyes until then had never left his, but they flickered downwards then, and Spencer froze at where your gaze landed. 

It only lasted a moment before your eyes returned to his, and it startled him the lack of sympathy he finds there, but instead warmth. 'It is still not my place to judge,' you said, twisting your hands so they could clasp his fully. 'All I know is that... you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. So much stronger than me, JJ, Pen, Emily - heck, I'd say you're even stronger than Derek. But not Hotch, Gideon, and Rossi, though. Then again, no one is.'

You both chuckled at that, and all the tension in his body seemed to dissipate at the sound. So light and airy, it was what he imagined heaven sounded like. 

'The point is,' you continued, giving his hands a squeeze, 'you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

Spencer stared at you, dumbfounded and conflicted within himself. He felt like he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. And a great urge to suddenly engulf you in a hug started itching his limbs, which was weird because he didn't care much physical affection, or affection in general. But before he could decide what he wanted to do, you decided for him.

You gave his hands one last squeeze before letting go and standing up. The absence of your touch left him cold as he followed you as you went back into the conference room to pack up. Surprisingly it didn't take you long until you came back out, your coat and bag in hand.

'Don't stay up too long, now,' you said as you passed him by, your smile so radiant it was almost as if you weren't crying just a few minutes before. 'We've got a long day ahead.'

As soon as the elevator door closed on you, he pulled out the vial of dilaudid and stared it down. It was like it was taunting him, sitting idly, innocently, in his palm, as if it knew he desperately wanted it, needed it.

'...you are stronger than you give yourself credit for... you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

For some reason, though, he suddenly didn't need it. The fire, the urge, the want and reliance for it - he was suddenly weightless with clarity, if only for a moment.

Spencer chucked the vial in the dumpster outside the office when he left. It was hard, but he did it. He knew he wasn't cured, that there was still a long road ahead. But it was a start.

The next day when he came into the office, Derek was the first to comment on his haggard appearance.

'Seriously man,' he said, trailing Spencer out of the break room, 'you look like a ghoul. Did you sleep at all last night.'

'I was here late last night doing paperwork,' he explained, sitting himself and his coffee down at his desk. 'You should go see (y/n), she probably looks a little worse for wear herself from staying late last night, too.'

'Oh, she stayed late too, did she?'

'It's not like that,' Spencer insisted, swatting at Derek pathetically. 'She had a mountain of paperwork to finish of her own.'

'Y/N?' Emily said as she walked by with JJ, identical coffees in their hands. 'She finished her paperwork at about the same time I did.'

'Yeah, we were walking out together before she turned back into the office. Said she had to talk with Hotch,' JJ said.

'I remember that,' Spencer added. 'You guys said goodnight to me on your way out.' Not that he had responded, he suddenly recalled, a pang of guilt punching his gut.

'Who had to talk with me?' The man himself suddenly walked by, stopping at the congregated group upon hearing his name.

'Y/n,' Emily answered. 'Last night.'

'Oh, yes. She, uh, asked if there was anymore paperwork to do.'

'Why would she do that when she was done?' JJ asked. 

'I don't know,' Hotch said, making his way towards his office, 'but who am I to turn away someone who wants to do paperwork for free? Now, briefing in ten minutes.'

As the others dispersed back to their desks, Spencer didn't know how to feel about this new information. It didn't help the matter when you finally dragged yourself into the office, dark circles peaking out from under your thin layer of foundation. But as you sat at your desk, eyes drooping as you logged onto your laptop, he knew just what to do.

It took you a second to register the cup of coffee being held in front of your dazed eyes, and another to realise who was holding it.

'Late night?' Spencer asked, a coy smile on his lips.

Despite your exhaustion, you managed to grab the cup without spilling any of the precious caffeine that would help you through the day. 'Yeah,' you decided to play dumb, answering as enthusiastically as possible. 'Paperwork, you know. Never-ending.'

Spencer hummed, contemplating his next words carefully. 'Well, I hope giving up your sleep was worth it, then.'

'I'd like to think it was.'

The way you didn't hesitate to answer struck a chord of truth in him that left him dumbfounded once more. Twice in under twenty-four hours? That had to be a new record for him.

But instead of freezing up, he managed an honest smile as he clanked his coffee cup with your own. 'Well... it is certainly most appreciated.'

Strike is on. Actors will be joining the writers on the picket lines. This is the first strike in 60 years for SAG, and essentially shuts down the entire US film and television industry.

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Meeting

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Meeting Word Count: 1380 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement Warnings: none Spoilers: none

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is one of the six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer: your meeting.

Full story | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Spencer Reid was performing some of his physics magic for his colleagues when he first saw you.

He'd just mixed up the some water with an antacid tablet and placed within a film canister. He'd done it a hundred times on his own, but he'd only just joined the BAU two months ago, and JJ and Derek hadn't seen it before so he just had to do it. Quickly placing the lid on, he said, 'You can turn around now.'

'I don't understand why we had to in the first place,' Derek said as he grumpily turned around.

'A magician never tells his secrets,' Spencer said, rubbing his hands gleefully. To him, showing off his intellect never got boring. 

Well, show off wasn't the proper term. He understood that he could be a lot for some people, knowing so much for a man in his early twenties that looked barely old enough to be out of school, let alone with three Bachelors and PHDs under his belt already. Spouting little known facts or remembering minute details about cases that went back thirty to forty years was just his way of expressing himself. It was his way of contributing to the team. And while his team was getting used to his ramblings and intellect, even demonstrated admiration for it, others would call him a freak.

'If you ask me,' JJ said, 'I wouldn't want to know how he does some things.'

'Fair,' Derek replied, all their eyes on the film canister.

Spencer watched it in anticipation, how the bubbles slipped out between the lid and the canister slowly at first, then started bubbling faster and bigger and-

POP!

The canister rocketed up towards the roof, and all three of them watched with wide eyes as it arced over the bullpen and then down to meet the-

'Ow!'

Spencer ducked into his chair as he watched a young lady in a loose button up shirt, dress pants and boots pat her head. He heard JJ and Derek scurry away, but Spencer remained staring at the woman. Who is she? he thought, his eyes scanning over her.

Your (h/c) hair caught the sunlight, giving it a glow that had Spencer mesmerised. Your (s/c) skin shone with it, making your (e/c) eyes stand out most beautifully. And when you stood back up and made eye contact with him, canister in hand, he found himself frozen, unable to avoid the conclusion that he was the culprit.

'What is this, Reid?' Hotch said, walking up to his desk not looking the least bit impressed. 'Actually, don't answer that. Just don't do it again.'

'Sorry,' Spencer murmured out, a guilty smile stretching his lips slightly.

Hotch blew out a sigh. 'Never mind that now. I would like to introduce you to our new team member. Agent (Y/n) (L/n), a transfer from LA.'

Spencer finally realised that you had walked up with Hotch, and now that you were so close (literally standing a desk apart from one another), he was lost for words at how bright your smile was, and how beautiful you looked that way. 

'So you're the one that thought my head was a good landing place for your little... rocket,' you said offering the film canister back, laughter dancing in your words. 

It took Spencer a moment for him to realise you wanted him to take the canister back, so he scrambled to his feet, fingers fumbling for the canister. 'No, I-I was just showing how a-an antacid reacts with water, and how, put into a small, confined place, that can cause a chemical, gas-like reaction and cause it to exploded.'

'And launch it like a rocket?' you asked.

He paused as he watched your smile slip a little. Oh no. He'd done it again - made someone feel dumber than him. And while technically that was true, he never meant to make anyone feel like that. 

'Y-Yeah?' he answered, awkwardness rising up in his throat, freezing his limbs, his brain.

But then suddenly your smile returned, melting his fear and doubt as you said, 'Cool! I've always loved chemistry. I actually did a Bachelor of Science with a major in archaeological science and a minor in chemistry before I started my BA in Criminology.'

'And now you're here,' he said, a soft smile of his own tugging at his lips. 

You nodded, looking around what would now be your new home. 'And now I'm here.'

'Fascinating,' Spencer breathed out. He didn't mean to, but it made you smile more so he didn't mind. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't introduced himself. He struck out his arm, rigid as a board, and offered his hand. 'Sorry, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'Pleasure to meet you, doctor,' you said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. You skin was as soft as it looked, Spencer noted. 'I very much look forward to working with you and the rest of the team as we go forward.'

'We've got a briefing in five minutes, Reid,' Hotch interrupted, moving to step away from the conversation. 'I'll introduce you to the rest of the team then, (L/n). And if I find you firing another film canister through the sky, Reid-'

'Yes, yes, sorry, no more rockets. Airspace Reid is officially grounded,' Spencer quickly replied, not wanting to get lectured like a twelve-year-old like he usually did.

Your tinkling laughter drew his attention back to you, and he was baffled by the wonderment dancing in your eyes as you looked at him. 'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'T-Thanks?' he replied, although he wasn't quite sure if you were making fun of him or not. Most people did if they didn't straight up tell him he was annoying.

Hotch walked away, but you remained for a moment, leaning in close to whisper, 'That's a good thing, by the way.'

'Oh. Right.' 

You flashed him one last smile before following your new unit chief, falling back into easy conversation with him as you gracefully floated through the chaotic goings of the office. Spencer couldn't take his eyes off you as you did, in awe of your grace and poise, and how you didn't even stumble when you spoke with him. You were genuine, upfront and honest. You couldn't be much older than himself, he noted, perhaps even younger. He was used to being the baby of the team, but it looked like that would be changing.

The prospect of being able to connect with someone his own age sent an unfamiliar but not unwelcome flutter through his heart.

'Oh, you've got it bad.'

Spencer spun in his chair to see JJ and Derek standing behind him once more, watching him with knowing grins. 

'What? What have I got?' he asked. 'I'm not sick... I don't think.'

JJ rolled her eyes and giggled as she walked away, Spencer just catching a quiet, 'This'll be fun,' as she did. But Derek walked closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and that knowing grin stretched wider, more feline and cheeky. 

'Don't worry, pretty boy,' he said. 'You'll figure it out soon. You're smart, right?'

'Well, smart isn't really the quite term for someone with an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187-'

'And pep talk is over,' Derek interrupted, abruptly walking away back to his desk and leaving Spencer in a disarray of emotions.

So he looked back to where you had gone, and found you speaking with Penelope, nodding enthusiastically to whatever she was talking to you about. But you weren't just being polite, you appeared genuinely interested in the conversation, even though Spencer noted you barely contributed to it. 

'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

All his life, Spencer had been told he was a genius - gifted, different. It had just become an effortless part of who he is. It was almost expected at this point to see weirded-out or overly-amazed expressions from people he didn't know. So why then, when you said that to him, did he feel happy about it?

He checked his watch. Almost briefing time. He got up from his seat and made his way to the briefing room where only a place beside you was available. Maybe he would find out soon enough.

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Catalyst

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) - The Catalyst Word Count: 2823 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement. Warnings: slow-burn romance, mention of crime scene and interrogation, and some more solid fluff Spoilers: none

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is one of six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer: the catalyst of newfound feelings.

Full story | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5  | Part 6

The next time you dumbfounded him, he almost kissed you.

Ever since you had joined the BAU, you and Spencer had alway had a sweet partnership. But after that night in the office, you had become inseparable. Best friends, to put simply. You stayed late at the office to keep each other company, brought each other coffee and treats, spent free days checking out the new films playing in the cinema.

You had inside jokes, and fought like an old, married couple - a fact the team loved to bring up whenever possible. But you liked it like that. Spencer was your person, and you were his.

And as much as he wowed you everyday, you managed to surprise him on occasions, too.

You were both paired up to interrogate a suspect. You personally didn't believe she was the killer, but Spencer didn't like to base anything from solely his gut. In other words, he was skeptical.

'I didn't kill those women,' your suspect said. 'And even if wanted to kill them, it would be for something more worthwhile than a stupid role.'

'Jealously isn't as far-fetched a reason to kill as you may believe,' Spencer stated to her. 'Particularly in women, the feeling of being threatened or in danger of losing something important to them brings out almost a maternal instinct to protect what they believe to be is theirs.'

'You think all actresses are that low? That shallow?' The young woman was pretty, but her face scrunched up in an ugly manner at the insinuation.

'He doesn't think that at all,' you interjected. 'In fact, he quite likes actresses, don't you buddy?'

Spencer gave you a side eye to which you smiled sickly-sweetly at in return. You were never going to let the Lila fling down any time soon.

You looked back at the young woman, your face returning to empathetic, concerned. She had a wall up, she was wearing a mask. If you wanted answers out of her, you needed to connect with her.

You leaned forward on the table, positioning yourself in front of Spencer so all her focus was on you.

'Anna,' you said softly, like you were speaking to a friend. 'I know you didn't do it. You're different than all those other girls right? You've worked hard to get where you are. Small town girl wanting to make a name for herself in an industry that can be ruthless and heartless as the killer that's still out there. You are classically trained, by-the-book, no shortcuts. I bet you started on the stage of your elementary school, landing the lead role.'

The young woman looked at you with skepticism for a moment, then you saw a crack in her mask as she nodded. 'I was Mary in the Christmas production. But it wasn't until high school when we preformed Shakespeare's The Tempest that I knew this was what I wanted to do with my life.'

Spencer noticed your smile now, how it lifted in a manner that sung of melancholy and fondness.

'"We are such stuff as dreams are made on.",' you said whimsically, and Spencer noted a familiarity that had the words rolling off your tongue with ease. Like it was muscle memory.

'Such a beautiful line, right?' the young woman asked.

'Yes, but, when translated into our modern English, it is quite sad really.' You make eye contact with the young woman and hoped she saw the understanding and slight desperation in your eyes. 'It means that life is an illusion, and a fleeting one at that. I don't necessarily believe in the first part of that, but it is true that life is fleeting. So before you end up the next aspiring actress in our morgue, you've got to tell us everything you know.'

The rest of the interrogation went smoothly. Honestly, it was the easiest one Spencer had ever sat in before. And all the while he had just sat there in awe of you.

'I didn't know you read Shakespeare,' he said randomly as they drove together in a local police SUV to meet with the rest of the team at the new suspect's house.

You scoffed. 'See that's the biggest misconception of Shakespeare. That it can only be read. In fact, it actually shouldn't be just read. It needs to be performed.'

Amusement danced upon Spencer's lips. 'Are you saying you were in a Shakespearean play? Which one? Actually, let me guess. Romeo and Juliet.'

'That's a cliche.'

'Twelfth Night? How about Taming of the Shrew?'

'Why do you want to know so badly?'

'Because I...' It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't quite know why he wanted to know. Only that he knows everything and you were his best friend and he didn't know something about you.

You spared him a sympathetic smile from the driver's seat before returning your eyes to the road. 'If you must know... it was actually The Tempest. It was my high school's production, too. And as much as he irritates me, I grew fascinated with Shakespeare's work after that. It even prompted me to do a unit or two in Shakespearean literature and performance during my uni days.'

You allowed yourself to slip back in time a little to those days, that melancholy and fondness finding its way back into your smile, Spencer noticed.

'Outside of Shakespeare though, I'll admit... I was a theatre kid.'

'No way!' Spencer exclaimed. 'You?'

'Why is it so unbelievable that I used to dress up and spout lines that no one really understood?' you asked, but you weren't offended. Simply amused that you seemed to have stunned the (until now) un-stunnable Dr. Spencer Reid.

'Because... it's just so left of field from anyone else in the team.'

'And is that a bad thing?'

'...not at all,' he said after a moment, and then proceeded to drop the matter entirely. Spencer Reid never forgets anything, he couldn't forget, not with his eidetic memory. But he made extra special care to file that little fact about you away for now.

A few days after returning home from wrapping that case up, you came into work to find your coffee already made on your desk, and beside it was an envelope. Curious, you swiftly opened the envelope and gasped with pure surprise at what you found.

'I thought you might like them,' Spencer said as he approached you, his own coffee in hand. 'The ticket vendor said they were the best seats in the house.'

'Oh my God, Spencer!' You couldn't help yourself, you leapt onto the gangly man like a frog and held him tighter than you'd ever hugged someone before, avoiding spilling Spencer's coffee. You were so excited you even smacked a fat, grateful kiss on his unsuspecting cheek before letting him go. 'Tickets to ASC's production of The Tempest?! How did you even get these, I was told they were all gone.'

'Believe it or not, I have connections everywhere,' Spencer answered a bit too vaguely but you didn't care. 'Even in areas that aren't of my particular expertise. I figured you and a friend could go enjoy it before it finishes up.'

'You mean you're not coming?'

Spencer tried not to read into it too much, but he swore he heard a little hiccup in your question, like you were upset. 'W-Well, I, I, uh, didn't want to assume anything. I mean, y-you might want to take JJ, or Emily-

'Spencer.' It was ridiculous how easy he listened when you said his name, how he dropped everything to listen to what you had to say whenever you did. And his heart faltered when he made eye contact with you and saw joy and hope lighting up your eyes. 'Would you like to come to the show with me?'

And it wasn't any wonder, then, that he replied without hesitation, 'Y-Yeah! All right, s-sure. Would love to.'

'Amazing!' Spencer once again had to juggle his coffee and you as you squeezed all the air out of him in another bone-crushing hug. 'Spencer Reid, you have just made my day.'

It was a week later and the night of the performance. You drove yourself and Spencer two and a half hours straight from Quantico down to Staunton to the American Shakespeare Centre, reciting and recalling your favourite Shakespearean moments the whole trip.

Spencer made the extreme effort to look presentable, pulling out a nice suit set, even replacing his usual casual sneakers with some shiny boots. His hair was slicked back out of his face, with only the slightest stubble on his chin and upper lip.

When you picked him up, you said he looked handsome. He never cared much for his appearance, but that comment warmed his heart slightly, made him sit more upright in his seat.

Once you pulled up and got out of the car, he finally saw you in all your glory. A navy blue dress clung to your frame beautifully; kitten heels cradled your feet as you walked up the stairs to the theatre's entrance; your jewellery brought out the (e/c) in your eyes, even further accentuated by your simple makeup and hair.

Spencer has met Nobel price winners, attorney generals, even spoken with the most psychotic people humanity has to offer. And yet there you stood - ethereal, angelic, striking him silent with just your presence.

'You coming, Boy Wonder?'

You'd reached the top the stairs without him moving a muscle. Embarrassed, he tried to cover it up with a cough as he scrambled to catch up with you. 'Boy Wonder? Where did that come from?'

You shrugged playfully as you hooked your arm through his. 'Just seemed appropriate.'

'I'm twenty-seven, (y/n). I'm hardly a boy.'

'Oh, so would you prefer I call you Batman?'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'I didn't know you liked DC comics.'

'There's a lot you still don't know about me, Spencer Reid,' you answered, handing over your tickets to the ticket vendor at the door. 'Like how I've always preferred Robin over Batman, anyway.'

You quickly found your seats, and Spencer tried not to acknowledge how tight-knit the seats were pressed together. His thigh pressed lightly against your own, and he couldn't tell if he hated or liked the feeling that suddenly sprouted in his gut.

It distracted him so much that instead of watching the performance, he looked at you. How you reacted to each sonnet, to the entrance of new characters, to the costuming and the music and emotion that filled the room with every word spoken. He watched it all, your joy, your love. Your heart was on your face, and it struck something new and unexplored inside him.

You cried at one point, and physical touch wasn't his forte, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and gave them a reassuring squeeze that he was there. You'd turned to him briefly and nodded, showing that you understood and that you were grateful.

You didn't let go of his hand for the rest of the show.

'Wow,' you breathed out as you exited the theatre, the performance finally done. 'That was...'

'Yeah. I feel the same,' Spencer finished, his hands shoved into his pockets as they walked down the stairs towards the carpark. His hand still burned from your touch, and that unsure feeling in his gut still remained.

'It was just so... magical.'

'I would say impressive, but magical works too, I guess.'

'Says the guy who still goes trick-or-treating on Halloween and believes in ghosts. Don't tell me you don't believe in the supernatural now.'

'I'm not saying I don't believe. I'm just saying that it's impressive that they were able to make fantastical magic seem slightly realistic.'

You playfully shove him, causing you both to fall into laughter. The two different melodies mixing together made Spencer feel lighter than he'd felt in a while. This was different to when you usually hung out. This time, there was no case, no team, nothing but yourselves to worry about.

'It doesn't matter, anyways,' you said, stopping on the steps suddenly. Spencer went down one more before stopping too. You smiled gratefully at him. It was a cool, autumn night, cool enough that your breath danced like ghosts in front of you as you spoke. 'Thank you, Spence. This was a wonderful night. You didn't have to do this.'

'I know,' he said, and it startled him how quiet and soft his voice was. 'I just... I just wanted you to enjoy the stuff you love. You deserve to enjoy the stuff you love.'

His acute eyes fell to your shoulders and noticed the slight shake in them. 'Here.' He wasted no time pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling it tight to capture the warmth.

You gratefully held onto the jacket, the warmth it captured seeping into your eyes. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer,' you said, your words dancing in between you two.

He was only the step down now, making you two eye level with one another. He was so close he could see himself in your eyes. He wondered if you could see yourself in his.

'Am I?' he asked, his breath mixing with yours.

'Yeah...'

He felt your warmth, and he suddenly decided that he liked the feeling in his gut. The one that had been driving him crazy all night. The one that had an iron grip on his mind, his heart. The one that pulled him closer to you, to your lips.

His eyes were almost closed and his lips almost on yours. You didn't back away - you didn't want to back away you realised. No matter how hard your heart pounded in your chest. No matter if he was your best friend.

So you leaned in too, and you could just feel the stars and planets align as you tasted his breath-

The front of your heel slipped on the edge of the step, sending you flying forwards into Spencer's chest. His reflexes had improved immensely since joining the BAU, and so he managed to grab hold of you and hold himself up before your momentum could send you both tumbling down the remaining stairs.

You both breathed in heavy gulps of air, steadying both your hearts from what could've happened.

'Nice catch,' you said after a moment, loosening your grip on Spencer only a little.

'Thanks.' He didn't know where to look. You, the ground, his surroundings. It all just felt muddled, as if his whole world had been tilted on its axis.

In a sense, it had.

But he felt your gaze, and he couldn't deny your eyes so he looked at you also. You eyes were blown wide, and the slight catch in your breath had him second guessing himself. Maybe he'd read you wrong after all. He'd never been wrong before, but there was always a first time for everything, he figured.

'(Y/n), look, I-'

Before he could attempt to salvage himself, the irritating ring of his phone went off, breaking the glass dome of solitude you'd' forged together with nothing but words and air.

This forced you apart, awkwardly so, as Spencer readjusted you on his step before letting you go completely and fishing his phone out of his pant pocket. He checked the ID caller: Hotch.

He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear. 'Hotch, what's up?'

'New case,' the unit chief answered without pleasantries. 'I know we're all meant to be off for the weekend but this one is important.'

'Where is it and we'll be there.'

'You're with (Y/n), right? In Staunton?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Head to the local police. We'll meet you there. That's where the case is.'

'Okay. Gotcha.'

Hotch ended the call and then it was just him and you once more. Although instead of the air feeling freeing and warming, Spencer couldn't seem to get enough in his lungs. It was like he was suffocating, having to face you again.

So he slipped into work mode, keeping Hotch's urgency and the new case in the forefront of his mind. 'New case. Here in Staunton. Hotch wants us to head down to the police and meet them there.'

'Right.' You seemed to think the same as him - it's probably why you were best friends to begin with - as the ethereal light in your eyes dimmed with the severity of the new situation. Without another word, you both bee-lined for the car, jumped in, and made your way to the local police station.

But for the rest of the case, Spencer couldn't help but think about that moment with you on the steps. He'd kissed before, of course, even dabbled in flirting despite how little he knew about the craft. He'd never imagined he'd attempt it all on you, however. Not even in his wildest dreams.