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reidssmile · 5 years ago

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s h o t || s.r.

pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

warnings: angst, mentions of being shot at

word count: 1.8k

summary: the reader is office bound due to a shattered tibia after a shoot out with an unsub and she’s getting frustrated with not being able to help in the field.

Fourteen days. Fourteen god forsaken days since you’d been shot in the leg. They’d only kept you in the hospital for a few days to check vitals, and Hotch made you take a few days of rest. Seven days. Seven days of not being able to be in the field, and it was killing you inside. To say having you desk bound sucked would be an understatement from the team, you were one of their best field agents so losing you, even just for a couple weeks, really put into perspective how important you were.

The team could also tell that this was taking a greater toll on you, than you were letting on. You had become quiet, not being your normal, bright, sunshiny self and it worried them. Spencer, your dear Spencer, had been worried the most. You two had been dating for several months now and you confide in him for almost everything, so when you started to become withdrawn, he was amongst the first to notice. He also noticed small details, like the way you pulled your sweater over your hands-- a sign that you were feeling insecure. When he tried to confront you about it, you’d just responded with “Babe, I’m fine. You’re reading too much into it,” and then tapped him on the nose, something you did when indicating that you were done with a conversation.

Just thinking about it made him frown. It’s not that he liked analysing you, but as the days dragged on with you seeming out of it, he just couldn’t help himself. He missed your smiles that seemed to light up a room, he missed your witty remarks when Derek teased you about him, he just all around missed you. Y/N Y/L. His light in the darkness. Spencer decided he’d try and cheer you up.

“Hey.” He mumbled, leaning over you so that his hands were on your desk, looking at your computer with you. He kissed your temple, which caused you to flash a ghost of the smile that he knew. You sigh at the thought of not being in the field, not being able to protect that man that you love so much. It’s not so much you didn’t think he could protect himself, rather, you found comfort in the fact that you could help him and watch his back. You missed being his partner in crime fighting. “Hi.” You pushed out, trying to sound content, even through your sad thoughts. “So I was thinking…” He started and you turned your chair to face him. “Uh oh,” you teased, a playful smirk making its way onto your lips, making Spencer smile in return. “What if we go to lunch tomorrow, then maybe I could take you out to a nice dinner?” He asked the last part sheepishly. A real, genuine, sunshine-filled smile plastered itself onto your face. It felt good to feel sincere happiness, it felt even better because it was caused by the man you loved. It’d been a while since you and him have had a date, simply because work wouldn’t allow for it, cases popping up left and right. “I’d really like that, Spence.” You replied, nodding your head to confirm what you were saying was true. “Great,” is all he said before he planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

←♣º•º•º♣→

You grabbed your crutches and stood up, slinging your bag over your shoulder. Spencer had texted you last night about lunch, and the plan was to meet at the elevators at 2:00 and then head to both of your guys favorite cafe, which was just a few minute drive. You waited by the elevator for a few minutes and when you saw Spencer, a smile made its way onto your face. “Hey, baby,” you said, as he leaned down to kiss you. “All set?” he asked, scanning you over. You nod, and you and Spencer make your way to the car. Being in the car with him made you think about getting calls and riding with him to crime scenes, making you ache to be back in the field even more. You felt practically useless sitting at your desk filing paperwork about cases you weren’t even there for. It’s not like you could help Garcia, you weren’t nearly tech-savvy enough, and while Hotch offered to let you sit in on briefings and help, it just didn’t feel the same to you. The doctors said that the healing could take anywhere from three to six months and the fact that it had only been two weeks, was killing you inside.

You were lost in thought, and don’t think an expert profiler like Spencer didn’t notice how quite you’d been, or the fact that there was a pained look in your eye, or the fact that there was a frown on your face and a soft sigh escaped your lips every once in a while. Even though it only took 10 minutes to get to the cafe, the ride felt like an eternity to him, especially with you not being talkative. It’s not like he didn’t try to talk to you, he did— but you would always just give dry responses or not notice he was talking. He decided not to push you to answer anything, so he just dropped it, though it did linger in his mind. He pulled into a parking spot close to the entrance of y/f/c. “Y/N/N, we’re here,” he said, when you showed no indication you were getting out. His voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Now noticing your surroundings, you mumbled an “oh, thanks,” and got out of the car.

Once seated, Spencer decided he would try and make small talk while you both looked over the menu. “What were you thinking about in the car?” His question was bold and caught you off guard. Looking up from the menu, you stared at him with curious eyes. “It was nothing, Spence,” you reached across the table and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, “I promise.” You tapped him on the nose. He sighed. “You’ve got to stop doing that,” he said, gaining a questioning look from you. “Doing what?” “The whole ‘not being truthful’ thing,” you took a sudden interest in the shrimp omelet, but he wasn't done, “the whole ‘acting like you’re alright’ thing, the whole ‘cutting off a conversation before we’ve actually talked about a topic’ thing. Y/N, we have to talk about it, we can’t just pretend it didn’t happen or that it’s not affecting you.” You felt like a kid being scolded by their mom for not doing the dishes, but you weren’t just going to sit there and take it.

You bit your lip and opened your mouth, “Spencer, you are the one person who I thought would get it,” you chuckled sarcastically, “You have an IQ of 187, but you can’t seem to be smart enough to pick up on my so very fucking obvious frustration.” “I’m not following…” You laugh again, “Yes, I’m lying to you and the team about being alright, but do you want to know why? Because not only am I trying to convince you that I’m okay, I am trying to convince myself just as much! You don’t understand not being able to do anything, you don’t understand how absolutely unimportant I feel right now. I am out for six months, six fucking months, Spencer! It’s only been two weeks and I already feel like this, do you realize how absolutely miserable I’m going to be? I might as well just take off for a while, because then at least I’ll be at home and not sitting around at the office, doing nothing to contribute to a case. I am the BAU's least valuable asset right now, and at this point, I’m just in the way.” I finish my speal and Spencer’s staring at me like a deer in headlights.

“Y-Y/N… I never knew you felt like that.” He stutters, he’s trying to find his words. You roll your eyes, “Obviously.” “Y/N I want you to know that you are important, whether you’re in the field or not, doesn’t matter. You’re still one of our most valuable profilers and we need you on cases. You don’t have to pretend to be okay for us, the team, I mean… it’s alright to not be at your best, we’re not going to judge you for it…” He trails off, trying to find more things to say. Go figure, the one time the genius needs his words the most, he can’t seem to find the right ones.

“Being at my best is literally my job description, Spencer. Sure, maybe the team won’t care, but if word gets back to HR that I’m not 100%, I can kiss my badge goodbye. This isn’t just about being alright, it’s about my job and right now, I’m pretty fucking useless. God, I’m sick of it. I’m sick of being useless!” You vent out, your frustration causing tears to prick your eyes.

Spencer was shocked that you’d even say something like that. Sure, you didn’t seem super happy for the past couple weeks, but you never let on that you were feeling this bad.

“Y/N L/N, you are not useless. I don’t ever want to hear you say that about yourself ever again, okay? Because you are the strongest, most amazing woman I know, hell-- I don’t know a single person who could plaster a smile on their face the way you do after getting shot. You are a lot of things, but you are most definitely not useless.”

By the time he finished his speal, you were a sniffling mess. You grabbed his hands across the table and just held them in your own, leaning your head against them. “I love you,” you sniffed, “I love you so goddamn much, Spencer Reid.” He brought your hands to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “I love you so much.” He whispered in between knuckle kisses.

It was such an intimate moment, but of course, all of those had to be ruined by a phone call. Spencer reluctantly answered it and sighed after a few seconds. “Be there in ten.” He said before he ended the call. “Case?” He nodded. Our waitress hadn’t even been around to get our drink order, so we just got up and left the diner. Once we were situated in the car, he grabbed your hand.

You chuckled. “What’s so funny?” He questioned, smiling while keeping his eyes on the road. “We didn’t even eat, and somehow, I feel re-energized. I think getting all of that out really helped me. So, thank you, Spence.” You smiled over at him, the smile never left his face as the parked the car in the parking garage. “Anything for you.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #angst #fluff #reidssmile

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