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[casualpaladin31]

Second Chance (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Requested: No 

Trigger warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence and mild language. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Beginning(n): late 12c., "time when something begins;" c. 1200, "initial stage or first part," verbal noun from begin. Meaning "act of starting something" is from early 13c. 

Beginning. From where I stand right now, the beginning seems so much more tame than what I know now. Spencer would usually tell me some sort of fact associated with the ‘beginning of the world’ if he were here right now. But he’s not. If only foresight were real. And I had it’s full power of never saying what I did. Never pushing him away. But I guess hindsight isn’t 20-20. And words can’t be taken back.  

~~~

April 12. Seems like a regular day to anybody. But not to me. Not to Spencer. He and I have been in what feels like an endless storm of arguments since Christmas. He and I had always been each other’s rock. Our anchor with how stressful our jobs are. I was there for him when the cases got rough and he was my shoulder when a case got way too personal. We just fit. That is, if you didn’t count the small little quirks in our relationship. One of which being my tendency to be like Morgan and jump into situations without too much thinking.  

I won’t lie; he absolutely hates it. Case in point: 

“Spence, come on, I can walk on my own now. The swelling’s gone down.” I complained, groaning at my tall and lanky boyfriend who was currently forbidding me from standing up from bed. So, maybe I might have gotten my ankles fractured and twisted by an unsub when I had tackled him prematurely and he and I went tumbling into traffic. No biggie. Other than the fact that one of the BAU’s SUVs ran over my ankles. Hotch didn’t see me. I don’t blame him. 

Spencer rolled his eyes as he pushed me back into bed as I tried for the fifth time that morning to get up to go to the damn kitchen and eat something. “The doctor said you need three weeks of bed rest. It hasn’t even been two yet.” Spencer reasoned, tucking me into the covers of our shared bed before I could protest. 

“Spence, I’ll be fine going to the kitchen. It’s not that far away.” I tried again, sitting up from the bed and pulling covers off of my body. “I promise I’m fine.” 

Spencer shook his head and gripped my hands, trying to lay me back down. “Actually there is plenty of space between here and the kitchen, Y/N. The inflammation and swelling process is to remove the damaged tissue from your fractures. Your ankles can’t heal until you let the swelling complete its course. This wouldn’t have happened if you had just waited for me.” Spencer sighed again, the end of his words having a bit of a jabbing tone that sparked a sharp ache in my chest. 

“What?” I asked, with half a laugh and half disbelief. “Are you serious right now? After all the things you’ve done without orders? Don’t make me list them, Spencer.” I hissed, half pissed that Spencer would even bring this part up. Sure, Hotch had given me a few weeks off due to my injuries, and I had gotten a case of major cabin fever since that included bed rest from the doctor. But that seemed to be forgiven by everyone. I still got calls from Penelope every few days to check on me for the rest of the team. But I guess this was still an issue. Even after we already had this argument. 

Spencer grunted as he stood up straight again, seemingly towering over me in all of his 6’1 glory. He may be making me mad right now, but he was still my tree. And I his squirrel. If that makes any sense. 

“Don’t start this please, I don’t want to argue with you on this.” Spencer tries, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

I gritted my teeth and scoffed. “Then why bring it up? Especially the way you did? Why, Spencer? Why? Cause I’m itching to know.” I instigate. Not the best move on my part. As Spencer’s eyes flickered with anger. It was clear he really didn’t want to have this conversation right now. But he should’ve thought about that. 

“Y/N do you really have to do this? Can’t we have one day without an argument?” Spencer huffed, running a tired hand through his hair. I roll my eyes in anger and I plant my feet against the hardwood. 

“You started this Spencer, not me. I just want to know what the hell you meant by what you said.” I retort, trying to reel back my anger. This argument wasn’t going anywhere. We hadn’t been communicating. It didn’t take a profiler to see that. And it seemed all that miscommunication was coming back to bite us in the ass. 

“You want to know what I meant? I’m tired of you throwing yourself into danger like that. Morgan does it, yes, but that does not mean that you should follow in his footsteps, Y/N.” Spencer says in a half accusatory tone and half calm. How the hell does he stay so calm when we argue? Even when I know he’s angry? 

“Oh, so Morgan does it better than me or something? If it’s so bad, Spencer, then go scold Morgan too why don’t you? Maybe you’ll actually get somewhere with him.” I jab at Spencer, instantly regretting my comment. 

Spencer is grunting with anger as he tries to formulate a response. “This isn’t getting us anywhere, Y/N! All these arguments? They never end well for either of us! If you hadn’t been so reckless maybe we wouldn’t have to be having this argument!” Spencer finally quips back at me. I widen my eyes and I furrow my eyebrows after a few moments. I open my mouth to respond before Spencer leaves the room, shutting the door a bit harshly as he does. 

I scowl and scoff as I unwillingly roll back over into bed. I was so done with this constant arguing. What had happened to that spark we used to have? That perfect routine where everything just fit? 

After a few minutes of sulking in my own anger I sigh. This was ridiculous wasn’t it? Sure. But I wasn’t ready to apologize yet. At least Spencer has another day or so before he’s gotta get back to the BAU. I can apologize to him before bed tonight. Can’t go to bed angry. 

I couldn’t help but remember a poem that Spencer had read to me previously. It was on the tip of my tongue. I remember he had a collection of them that he liked to leave for me whenever he got home before me. Or if I left before him and I was expected to come home early. Especially when he had to work and I didn’t. It was just something we enjoyed. Well… used to anyway. 

The poem was Love’s Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelly, I think. Yeah. That was it. I can only remember part of it though. 

The fountains mingle with the river

   And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

   With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

   All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

   Why not I with thine?

What happened between us? What did we do to get this far away from our paradise that we had made together? 

I sighed as I recalled the poem, shifting through my nightstand and finding the small notebook paper that he had left for me on my pillow months prior. Was this relationship even salvageable? Would we ever get back to this point of love between us? Or would this rift grow ever larger, and keep us apart? 

I let out a tired exhale and began to slowly get up from my prison. I hissed as my ankles began to wobble from the sudden weight. I gripped the nightstand for dear-life before I found my balance, and I started to wander into the apartment I’d been kept from for the past week and a half. 

I wobble my wounded and swollen feet into the living room, gripping onto everything that I could to get there safely and without a fall. Knowing Spencer’s state of mind it would probably feed into another argument. But though all odds were against me, I made it to the couch. I plopped down and picked up a forgotten book that laid next to me. La Divina Commedia. Why am I not surprised Spencer’s been reading that? 

Before I could pick the book up and even attempt to read it in it’s natural text, I hear the plop of a ready back by the front door. I sigh. Of course there’s a case. A case while I’m down for the count. My fault, I guess. 

I sigh and put the book down. “So you’re leaving?” I question, trying to sound at least remotely sincere. 

Spencer doesn’t even acknowledge that I’d even spoken, too busy with his bag. At least he had the manners to respond. “Yes, I am. Three women were abducted in Oklahoma. It will probably take a few days.” He says, his usual tone of sorrow for having to leave absent from his voice. Almost like he was thankful for this break from me. 

I bite my lip nervously and fight the urge to sigh yet again. “Well… Tell the team I said good luck.” I say as audibly as I can without giving away the hurt pounding in my chest. 

Spencer at least nods before he grabs his now full bag and exits the apartment. Not even looking at me once. 

Kidnapping case, huh? 

~~~ 

Spencer’s POV 

Spencer can’t help but notice the seething anger he was emitting as he walked into the bullpen to set his stuff down before the case briefing. Morgan and Prentiss both gave him looks as he set his bag down and tried to gather what he would need for the case at hand.  

“Hey kid, something… going on at home? I can feel your anger from over there.” Morgan prompts, pulling Spencer into a half head lock with his arm. Spencer sighed and pulled away from Morgan’s attempt at communicating. 

“It’s fine, Morgan. Really. Did you know that couples find themselves fighting about household issues about seven times each month? A survey of 2,000 Americans, commissioned by a furniture company, found couples wind up averaging about 72 spats each year over home improvement particulars.” Spencer starts to ramble, unable to hold back his concern for the topic. At least his attitude and overall tone wasn’t deteriorating from where it had been before he left. 

Morgan nodded, suddenly understanding where the conversation was leading. “Ah, so you and Y/N having some trouble in paradise? She getting cabin fever yet?” Morgan teased, poking Spencer in the shoulder. 

“I don’t believe there’s ever really paradise in a relationship. A study proposed by the company Eharmony suggested that although 64% of couples are happy in their relationships, that other 36% isn’t. But that number continuously changes. And relationships end everyday over small things.” Spencer rambled again, his hands being shoved into his pockets as Morgan began leading him into their meeting room. 

Morgan shook his head. “Man you got it bad. Just try to make it up for her when you get home, alright? You don’t wanna go to bed angry, you know what I’m saying?” Morgan suggests. Spencer sighed and went silent as they pushed through the glass doors and took their seats at the round table to let JJ announce their newest case. 

"We've got three missing women in Oklahoma city, all from low socioeconomic classes. Danielle Jones, Katie Hurtz, and Cassidy Weirton  were all last seen by their boyfriends at a party they all attended yesterday. Their cars were found dumped into the nearby river with signs of chains digging into the paint. Almost as if they were pulled into the river." JJ explains, turning to face the team. 

Prentiss raises an eyebrow. "Don't they all look a little like Y/N? You know, h/c, e/c, s/c?" She brings up, slightly catching Spencer’s attention. Spencer looks up and looks at the photos currently on the screen. Emily was right. They did all look like her. 

Morgan nods in agreement. "Yeah, they kinda do. I'm kinda glad you ran over her ankle, Hotch. She might've had to deal with Mr. overprotective here if you didn't." He teased, gesturing his thumb to Spencer. 

Spencer raises an eyebrow and looks at Morgan in a bit of shock. "I don't follow." He asks. Prentiss shook her head and gave Spencer a knowing look. 

"Come on, Spencer. We all heard it from Y/N herself when Garcia called her. You're giving her cabin fever by keeping her in one room all day long." Emily points out, teasing him a bit along with Morgan.  

"Why is this important? She needs approximately 3 weeks of bedrest as determined by her doctor. I'm just trying to make sure she heals right." Spencer expressed in annoyance. Although Prentiss was definitely right. Y/N had been showing him signs of just wanting to move from the bed to the couch so that she wasn't bored from her surroundings. But she still shouldn't be moved all that much. Especially since she didn't have any sort of cast or boot to help with the healing. Only a brace. 

"She isn't coming with us on this case, so there isn't any reason I need to worry, is there?" Spencer reasoned, growing tired of the teasing. 

Morgan raised his hands up from where they had been resting on the table. "I guess not. But kid, seriously. Take it from a man who knows: don't fight her on this." Morgan encourages. 

Maybe he was right, Spencer thought. 

~~~ 

Three days had passed since Spencer had gone on the new case. I was absolutely and completely, lonely. And it was almost suffocating. 

Thankfully Spencer had left me an apartment full of food, so I needn't worry about having to cook or, god forbid, have to go grocery shopping in my condition.

But I was tired of the four bare walls of the main area of my and Spencer’s apartment. I could only bear them for so much longer before I completely combusted from boredom and fourth stage cabin fever. So… I went out to go get a few books. What? We had crutches from the hospital. And taxis exist. So I was fine.

Besides, I knew Spencer hadn't read books from this author yet. And I was partially hoping that he would take them as mostly an apology gift and the rest just a gift. I wanted to try and get back into the swing of our relationship. Try and just maybe get back into a somewhat normal routine. Even if I was incapacitated. 

I clobbered around the bookstore, my more injured foot swinging as I used the lesser to get around. There were so many books I just didn't know which ones to get for Spencer and just how many I wanted to get for myself. 

One I picked up reminded me of a case that had come across my desk. The case was actually in Quantico. An unsub was kidnapping women around the ages of 20 to 35 and the bodies were found dumped into the river, raped and mutilated. But there were only two victims at the moment, and the period between them was months, so it hadn't seemed like one to worry about. I heard the unsub left a letter to each of the families of the victims. Almost taunting them. Weird how you can make connections like that in real life compared to your second one. 

But eventually I hobbled again over ro the counter and heaved about 5 books up into the clerk's view. The clerk looked me up and down and smirked. 

"Rough day?" He asked, beginning to scan the books into the system. I groaned and chuckled slightly. 

"More like rough life." I reply, heaving myself back onto the harsh arm rests of the crutches. The man nods in understanding.  

"Very true. But hey, I'm sure you'll get off of those soon and get back to your normal routine." He says, telling me my cost. 

I fumble through my wallet and pull out my credit card. I hand it to the clerk. The clerk then takes it and swipes it for me. 

"Do you want to sign up for our rewards program? You get a book free with every purchase." The clerk prompted. I raised an eyebrow at the sudden offer. I'd never gotten this offer when I'd gone here before. Was it new? 

"Not today, sorry." I begin, taking my credit card back from the clerk and beginning to put it back into my wallet. 

"It's something new we're trying. Get more customers interested in reading and stuff. And… I kinda promised my boss I'd get at least one my next shift. I'd really appreciate it." The clerk prompts again. I sigh. Would it really be that bad? Spencer might appreciate it. Getting more books for only a quarter of the price? He'd like that. Hell, I'd enjoy that. Why not? 

I shrug and I nod. "Alright, alright. You need my number and stuff?" I ask. The clerk nods. 

"Uh huh. Just name, number and address." The clerk says, beginning to type into the computer at the counter. 

"Y/N L/N, 555-555-5555, (insert random Quantico apartment address here)." I list, piling the books up and putting them into a bag the clerk handed me. 

As the clerk finished up I smiled at him. "Have a good day sir." I say as I begin my hobble back towards the door. 

"You too." 

~~~ 

I wobble on the crutches as I clop back to Spencer and I's shared apartment. I sigh as I begin to fumble with my keys. My phone drops out of my pocket as I do. 

I grumble and lean over to grab it. I turn it on out of curiosity. No new messages. Nothing. Not a single 'How are you?' text. Kinda pissed me off a bit. 

But instead I sigh and just type a quick, and small text. 

Y/N - Hey, can we talk when you get home? I wanna make it up to you. Please.  

I sigh and shove it back into my pocket. I'll deal with it later, I think. 

I finally unlock my door and shove it open. When I do though, I find a letter shoved under the door. Couldn't they have put it in the mailbox? 

I pick it up and shut the door behind me. I hobbled over to the dining room table and put the bag of books down, along with the crutches as I began to investigate the letter. 

I don't even get the chance to fully open the letter before I'm grabbed from behind and a cloth is shoved into my mouth. Chloroform. 

I try instantly to cough and spit the rag out, but by the time I do, I've already begun to breathe the gas in, and my vision began to grow cloudy and spotty. 

The only thing I hear as the lights begin to fade and my capture begins to drag me away is "Good… go to sleep now." 

~~~ 

Spencer sighed as he sat on the plane in mid thought. They thankfully were able to capture the unsub and bring him to justice before he could kill any of the girls. But something had struck him as they had finished up the case. Y/N had texted him, wanting to talk. He'd tried to reach her that night by calling her cell, but it went straight to voicemail. He didn't think much of it. She was probably sleeping. As she should be. 

But still. She was right. They both needed to resolve this. Nothing was going to improve if they didn't try. 

"Hey kid, whatcha thinking?" Morgan asks, taking a seat next to Spencer as the plane got ready to land. 

"I think I'm going to talk with her tonight. See if we can come to an understanding. A compromise maybe." He sighed, fumbling with his fingers. 

Derek grinned. "Alright, Spencer, my man!" He exclaims, lightly hitting his shoulder. "Good. I'm proud of you, kid." He says, prompting Spencer to smile. 

"Thank you Morgan. I just think we'll find a better normal is all." He agrees, unable to focus on the current case report he'd just written. 

Prentiss wanders over and takes a seat next to Spencer as well. "I'm glad you've decided to tame the beast, Spencer." She teases. 

Rossi's ears perk up at the conversation. "Are we talking about Y/N here? Cause she's untameable." He expresses, pulling a smile onto Spencer’s face. 

She really was untameable, Spencer thought. Maybe that was a good thing. 

~~~ 

Spencer stretched his arms as he walked to his apartment. After the long and hard case they had, he just wanted to hold you and pull you close. Those girls looking so similar to you had messed with his head. 

Spencer exited the elevator, ready bag in hand as he turned to head down the hallway with his and Y/N's shared apartment. When he finally stopped, he noticed the door was ajar. Weird. Y/N always had a quirk about insisting he close the door behind him whenever he entered or exited a room. So why would she leave the door open? 

Spencer cautiously entered the room and saw the lights all completely turned off. Maybe she was in bed, he thought. 

He flicked on the lights and noticed a bag of books on the table, and a half opened envelope laying there as well next to forgotten crutches. Spencer rolled his eyes as he noticed the books were newly bought, guess Y/N couldn't stay in bed while he was gone. 

That's when he noticed the letter again. He opened it up and began to read the complete horror that met his eyes. 

Hello. 

I'm glad we share an interest in books. I've always liked reading. Did you know that? I've also loved (h/c) haired girls. All my life. When your (e/c) eyes met mine, I knew you had to be mine. So, please don't fight this. All I want is for us to be together. Forever. 

I promise I’m not like him. Your boyfriend. I won't leave you alone on weekends with fractured feet. 

Just obey me, and you'll be happy. I promise. 

Love, Z.H.E  

Spencer felt tears building up in his eyes. This man, this--this Z.H.E had taken Y/N. Taken his girlfriend at her weakest. And he wasn't here to protect her. 

Spencer thrust the letter onto the table and dropped to his knees. You were gone. Out of his reach. And there was no telling how long you'd been gone. How long you've been in this unsub's hands. So there was no way to know if you had any chance. 

Spencer clutched at his shirt and tie as he began to quicken his breathing and his heart began to pound faster. He had to do something. Anything. 

Then he felt his phone vibrate. That was it. He had proof. This wasn't Y/N's handwriting. They had a case. They just had to get permission. 

Spencer shook his head. Fuck the permission. He was going to find Y/N and put the bastard who took her in prison. They didn't have much time, but he was going to find her. Dead or alive. 

Spencer pulled his phone out and immediately began dialing Morgan’s number, tears still streaming down his cheek. 

He was going to find you. He had to. 

After a few rings, Morgan finally answered the phone. "Reid? Kid it's like 11 o'clock at night. What's wro-" Morgan groans. 

Spencer immediately cut him off. "Morgan, Y/N's not here. Some-someone took her. Th-they left a-a note and u-uh… they signed it Z...Z.H.E." Spencer rambled and stuttered, his voice almost inaudible from his tears and his voice growing faster with his nerves. 

Morgan’s response was to be expected. "Wait, what? You serious kid? Hold on, I'll call Hotch. Bring anything Y/N might've had with her the day she got taken with you back to the BAU. We'll meet you there." Derek ushered, the sound of a TV being shut off in the background. 

Spencer tried to calm his breathing, but it only got faster and harder to control. "O-okay… got it." Was his only response as he hung up the phone and pulled out a pair of gloves from his pocket and began searching the apartment for any sort of sealing bag he could put the letter in for evidence. If the bastard wasn't wearing gloves, they needed to be able to find fingerprints. Not just his own. 

Once he found something, he slid the envelope and the letter into the bag and sealed it shut. Once he had it, he grabbed the bag and the bag of books and began to carry them out the door. 

~~~ 

I groaned as I lifted my head up from where it had hung for I didn't know how long. My neck ached from the change in position, and I heard a few painful pops as I moved it. I felt my head pounding. Seems like that head wound is finally giving me trouble. 

I tugged at my arms, feeling rope dig back into my skin in retaliation. I gritted my teeth and began to try and use my fingers to attempt any sort of chance this asshole decided to leave the knot in close range of my hands. But alas, he didn't.  

My legs were tied to the chair as well, almost tighter than my arms were. I sighed. It had been 4 days since this asshole had taken me. And it wasn't pretty. I had a large gash on my cheek, and bruises that scattered my torso and thighs. This guy wasn't subtle in his obsession with me. He needed to see me multiple times a day. And if I didn't do what he asked, he whipped me. And the guy got off from it. 

I sighed, at least he decided to move me from the dangling chain prison he'd had me in the first three days. The first one he just needed to see all of me. I was just unlucky enough to wake up prematurely. 

I'm glad I wasn't awake for most of it. It still hurts. Every time I close my eyes I try and focus on Spencer. His hazel eyes looking down at me with love in them, telling me it'll be okay. 

But when I open my eyes again, I'm back in my own personal hell. 

I sigh and look around, hoping the blood that was pooling above my eye didn't drip down into my eye where I couldn't see. I'd already viewed this whole room dozens of times. But it was something to do while this asshole lived upstairs with his wife and their young daughter. And they do nothing about it. 

My eyes find the only window in this hell of a basement and I see that the light is brighter than usual. Must be noon. I can't tell. That can only mean he's going to be here soon. Gonna take another piece of me that I'll never get back. 

"S-spencer…" I whimper quietly, squeezing my eyes shut as a tear builds up in my eye. If I hadn't gone out like he told me this wouldn't have happened. I'd still be in our apartment and I would've been there to welcome him home. Not here. Not with death looming over my head. 

"Oh, poor baby. You seriously want him? When you have me? You've got all you could ever want and you never accept me. Why?" The most disgusting and smoke-induced sounding voice echoed into the basement. 

I turn my head and glare at my capture, my right eye squinting as the blood from my forehead began to drip over it. I don't answer him, afraid he'll just beat me again for my answer. He'll beat me anyway. 

He growled and pulled my face towards his, holding it harshly as he spat into my face. "Answer me, bitch! That's all you are!" He yelled, pushing the chair against a beam. I cough as my head collides with the wood. 

I shake as my head slowly lifts to look at him again. "I… I don't want you… I w-want to g-go home…" I stutter. He wants an answer. But I don't want to play into his game. I feel disgusting. 

He then launches a punch to my gut, causing me to cough up a spat of blood and begin to groan from my bruises. Add another bruise to the pile. 

"WHY?! I am a better man! THE better man! You are mine! Accept it!" He spat, tossing the chair aside along with me. "It's like you don't even like me!" The man growled. 

I groaned and began to shrink as much as I could into the chair. Why? Why me? He had a wife and a kid upstairs. A perfect normal life. Why couldn't he just settle? 

The man shook his head and growled. "No. No we're gonna show this 'boyfriend' of yours just how good I am to you." He insists before he fishes through the clothes that he had torn off of me and pulled out my phone. I could only hope that Garcia could track its location fast enough. 

~~~ 

Spencer gripped his hair tightly as everyone was scrambling to try and find some way, some connection to bring them close enough to be able to find Y/N. But they had nothing.  

So far, they hadn't found any fingerprints on the letter that Spencer or Y/N hadn't left themselves. And the bag was obviously only carried by Y/N. So they were stuck until they could get another piece of information.  

Morgan sighed as he watched Spencer go over the letter for what he knew was about the twelve hundredth time that night. He really didn't deserve this. 

Morgan took a seat and tried to get Spencer’s attention by lightly grabbing his wrist. Spencer jumped from the sudden contact, sighing slightly. 

"Nothing… After 5 hours of searching we have found nothing. All we have is a reminder of how terrible I was to her." Spencer sighed, his esteem having grown drastically low in the time that he had spent reading the letter over and over again. 

Morgan sighed. "Kid, you were not terrible to her. Come on. She loves you, man. Seriously, I can see love. And she's got it for you." Morgan insists, nudging Spencer’s shoulder. Reid sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. 

"Still, the last thing I did with her was argue over her being reckless. That might be the last thing she ever hears from me." Spencer expressed, clutching harshly at his chest. 

Derek sighed again and nudged Spencer once more. "Come on, kid. We'll find her. That won't be the last thing you say. The last words you ever say to her will be on your shared deathbed kid." Morgan teased. "Come on, the girl got you five books when she was supposed to be resting. If anything that tells me she loves you more than the pain she feels." Morgan chuckles, gesturing towards the bag of books on the evidence table. 

Reid shrugs and looks down for a moment before it hits him. He stands up suddenly and starts shifting through the plastic bag for the receipt.  

"Woah, kid. Did I say something to set you off or-?" Morgan asks suddenly, confused by Spencer’s sudden movement. 

"The books! She-she would've taken the b-books out if she had been home l-long enough to put them away-" he rambled, searching and flipping through each of the books, desperately trying to find the receipt and to find some sort of indication as to when she was taken. 

"Right, but Reid I don't-" Morgan starts again. 

Spencer shook his head. "Just-!" He exclaims almost exasperatedly. Then he finds it. Deeply nestled into a copy of Edgar Allen Poe's greatest poems, was a receipt for four days ago at a bookstore a few miles away from their apartment.  

"Found it." He whispers, smiling happily. Maybe he had a chance of finding Y/N after all. 

Morgan widened his eyes. "Does it got a date on it, Reid?" He asked, getting up from his chair in a quick haste to know if they had a new clue. 

Reid nodded, a few tears building in his eyes. "Four days ago. She's been with the unsub for...for four days…" Spencer sputtered, forcefully putting the small receipt down so he didn't crumple it more.

Morgan gave Spencer a sympathetic look and opened his mouth to speak. 

"You're gonna wanna see this, Reid." Garcia came onto the screen, pulling Spencer’s attention to it.

"Hold on baby girl," Derek says before he rushes to the glass door that connected the council room to the rest of the bullpen. He opened the door and called in Hotch, JJ, and Rossi. Prentiss came in as she was coming down the hall.  

"What is it Garcia?" Hotch asked as he came in, settling into the room and looking at the screen she currently showed her face on. 

"Okay, but this is kind of… gore-y. You might not want to see this Reid-" she began, trying to warn Spencer of the video's contents. 

Spencer shook his head. "Show the video." He insists. Garcia sighed, but clicked play. 

On the screen showed a much less clothed Y/N and a hooded figure in the room. A single light bulb was hanging from the ceiling. 

"Since princess here can't accept me, let me just show you what I've done to your precious girl." A distorted voice echoed through the video speakers. 

Spencer’s eyes were wide as he was forced to watch the screen for more information on where his (nickname) was. 

The hooded figure then pulled out a knife and advanced towards Y/N. Y/N herself bit back a quiver and a whimper. Spencer knew it by her bitten lip. 

The figure then used the knife to cut a long gash along Y/N's left arm, before grabbing the right and cutting his initials into the soft skin that was there. 

"You're mine, now. What boyfriend would want you now with another man's claim on you?" The figure growled at Y/N. 

Y/N took in a shaky breath and looked into the camera. "I-I can take it. I-i p-promise. S-spencer,"  mouthing one word before the figure slapped her across the face for doing so. 

"You bitch‐!" The figure growled. Spencer shut his eyes tightly and looked away from the screen. He could barely make out what she mouthed. Basement. 

Hotch looked to Reid, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Did you catch it? The word she gave?" He asked calmly, understanding Reid's need to look away from what this man was doing to the love of his life. 

Spencer shook in terror for a few speechless moments before he was finally able to lift his head back up.  

"She… s-she said basement, Hotch. She's in a basement." He announces, keeping his eyes away from the screen. 

"Meaning this guy could have a complete other life. And that nobody knows what he's doing downstairs." Morgan infers, Prentiss nodding towards him in agreement. 

JJ speaks up next. "Sorry to burst the bubble here, but I think I found the case this unsub is connected to." She says, dropping a very thin case file onto the table. 

"Two women, between the ages of 20 to 35 were taken from their homes in the mid afternoon. Yet no one saw or heard. At each of the scenes, a letter is found that is similar to the one we found at your apartment, Spence." JJ informs, sighing. "Each of the women were found two weeks after their capture dumped into the river and stripped of their belongings. With sighs of rape and mutilation." JJ says sorrowfully. Spencer’s fist tightens at his side, his eyes squeezing shut again. 

He could've been there for you if he hadn't taken that case in the heat of his anger. He would've kept you from going out and attracting the attention of this unsub. But he was more focused on his anger. 

"Reid, do you have anything new?" Hotch asks, jotting down a few notes to be able to refer to later. Spencer sighed and nodded. 

"Y-yeah. I found the receipt from the bookstore she went to. Four days ago. It's called Zander's Stories." He says, looking up to face Hotch for a moment. 

"Good. We'll head there and talk with the owner, see if we can find any employees with our profile. And if they have cameras we'll check to see who checked Y/N out." Hotch informed. The rest of the team nodded and began to get back to work. 

Spencer stood up and stopped Hotch for a moment. "H-hotch, what is the profile? If you don't mind my asking." He asked shakily, his hand grasped at his sleeves nervously. He had been so focused on the letter and understanding the handwriting that he only had a portion.  

Hotch sighed. "Reid. We're looking for a man most likely in his thirties or forties. Has a history of being flirtatious, almost creepily so with customers. Most likely has a wife, maybe a child as well. But never wears his wedding ring. Almost wanting to lure women closer to him. He probably talks mostly of himself and his own accomplishments than those of his coworkers. Takes every conversation as a chance to turn it about himself." He answered, giving Spencer a sympathetic look. They all wanted to find her. But they had to be careful. 

Spencer nodded as he took the profile in, taking a mental note to think of any people he might know. Anyone who might've been watching them before now. But he found nothing. 

"The handwriting seems to be gleeful almost in tone. A-almost as if he'd finally gotten what he wanted. Like a child sending a thank you letter to Santa for the presents they got for christmas." Spencer expressed, picking up the letter to point out the darkened graphite marks on the letter page. 

"Interesting. He might've been watching her before. Have you and her been out before this? Perhaps gone to this bookstore before Christmas?" Hotch asked, gathering together the papers he had written on. 

Spencer searched his mind for a moment, trying to reach as far back as his photographic memory would go to help him remember if he'd ever encountered a man that matched the profile. 

"For Christmas she did get me a-a new poem book. A-and a book on philosophy. She might've visited the store then." Spencer informed, his hands gripping tightly and his knuckles turning white. 

"That's it. He watches them for months in advance. He seems very organized. He kidnapped her without much fight. Even with her being injured she would've been able to fight him off if he simply grabbed her. He planned this." Hotch then grabbed his things and rushed out the door to join the others. 

Spencer felt his body still as he tried to figure out what he could do. What he could say to help find another clue as to where you were. All he could think of was to try and come up with a geographical location from the different victims and the profile. 

He just hoped they wouldn't be too late. 

~~~ 

Again I opened my eyes exhaustedly. It seemed I'd been here ages. I didn't know the times between when I'd wake and when I'd pass out. But those times between when I'd wake and after I'd fallen asleep were the best. I got to see Spencer. In all his gentle and warm light. 

"S-spencer… I'm scared…" I whispered, not hearing any echos of breath in the tiny basement this man was keeping me in other than my own. 

I almost imagine him replying; Why? I'm here.  

I choke back a tired sob. "I-i'm afraid… a-afraid I'll never s-see you again…" I whisper in a reply so hoarse and tiresome. 

Again I can imagine his response, almost hear it. Don't give up. I'll see you soon, sweetheart. 

I swallow a choked sob and close my eyes once more. My hope was almost gone. I'd been here so long. I knew it was at least 4 days. Maybe 5 at the most. I don't know how much I can handle his beatings. Or his possession. 

I sniffle and clear my throat as I hear footsteps above me. He's coming again. 

The door to the basement slams open and I jump from the sudden noise. His feet pound against the wooden stairs as he rushed down the stairs. I squeezed my eyes shut as he came into the light, unable to face him. 

"You didn't tell me you were fuckin' FBI!" The man yelled, slapping me for good measure. I bite my lip and hold onto my whimper. I swallow harshly, not replying to his obvious question. 

The man snarls, raising his hand to slap me once again before he stops himself. I almost let myself think that maybe by some miracle he'd grown some sort of conscience. That maybe he'd show me a little mercy. But of course, I was wrong. 

The man pulls out his knife and cuts my bindings, pulling me off of the chair abruptly. He grips my wrists so tightly I was sure he'd break them if he squeezed any tighter. 

He stayed silent as he dragged me across the floor, digging his nails into my wrists. He hoisted my body up like a ragdoll and enclosed my damaged and rope-burned wrists into chains, allowing me to hang there limp and tired. 

"See this, this is what happens when you lie to me, bitch!" He yelled, picking up a long piece of wood he kept in the basement and thrusting it against my stomach. I sputter and cry out before I could even attempt to silence myself. I could feel my insides aching and throbbing. And the nailheads sticking out of the wood bruised my skin, almost breaking it from the force. 

The man pulled the wood back and thrust it against my legs, making me whimper from the pain. The nails dug into my calves and my thighs, drawing blood from the wound. I was losing my resolve to fight and to push through the pain. 

The man then brought it back to my torso, and thrusted it against me. I felt my ribs cracking and popping. Pain throbbed from my chest, and it grew stronger with each thrust I endured. 

Again and again he beat me, the wood and nails digging into my skin and bruising it well. Moments later I found my eyes slowly falling closed as each thrust collided with my body. 

Before my eyes could close completely I felt the wood thrust against my back, causing tremendous pain to my spine. If I had the ability I would have crumbled to the ground. 

"You're gonna pay for this. You were supposed to be mine. You are not his. Mine, and mine alone!" The man growled, pointing a finger at me. I look away, only for him to force my face towards him. 

"I think it's time you went to sleep, sweetheart~" he purred just as he thrusted the butt of his knife against my head, sending me back to my dreamscape.

~~~ 

Spencer found his phone once he heard it begin to ring. He'd been eyeing it since he'd finished the geographical map. He could only hope and pray that whoever called him would have some sort of good news. She had been missing for four days. Five now. And they weren't any closer to finding her. 

JJ had gone on TV for a press conference. Try and bring the unsub out since most like to inject themselves into the investigation. Spencer had been against it. He'd seen time and time again what happened to the agents that unsubs found out what they were. Prentiss had gotten a beating for it while Reid had to stand back. 

But this was the best course of action, according to Hotch. And Spencer had no choice but to agree with him for now. 

When his phone began to ring, Spencer jumped in his seat and immediately answered, having seen it was Hotch. 

"H-hotch, tell me you've got something." Spencer begs, not even trying to hide his worry anymore. 

"Zander Harrison Edison. He's the owner of the bookstore. The employees all agreed to him fitting the profile. He has a wife and a daughter. And has been reported to flirt with a majority of the female customers." Hotch reads off. "I got Garcia working on an address now. But we need you down here. Just for when we have one." Hotch informs, his speech a little quicker than normal. He was probably hurrying out of the book store to get to the SUV. 

Spencer let out an audible sigh of relief and his hand finally loosened it's tight and tense grip. "Yes, o-of course Hotch. I got a geographical pinpoint I can send her before I head out." Spencer offered as he began to gather his things in a haste to get to Y/N as quickly as possible. 

"Reid, calm down. She's going to be alright. And sure. That'll help her get the address narrowed down for us. Just hurry, we don't have much time to lose." Hotch agreed with Spencer, the sound of a car beginning to start sounding in the background. 

Spencer took a shallow breath and nodded. "R-right...r-right I just gotta… j-just gotta calm d-down…" he says with uncertainty. He hangs up the phone and immediately begins to head towards Garcia's office with the geographical pinpoint he had narrowed. 

Spencer's feet couldn't carry him any faster than they did as he hurried towards the technical analyst's cave. Spencer hastily knocked and pounded on the wooden door much harder than he intended to, bringing an impatient Garcia from her office. 

"In case you haven't heard, we're a little busy right now with a kidnapped-" Garcia began to scold before he noticed Spencer’s hurried and worried expression. "Oh, Reid. Sorry you don't...don't usually knock that hard. I'm finding the address as we speak-" she starts. 

"I-i've got the geographical location, Garcia. It-" he sighed, messing with his tie nervously. "It'll help." He says, as his eyes wandered around anxiously. 

Garcia nods and gestures for Spencer to go ahead. "Alright then, lay it on me my love." She prompts, turning her chair around and swerving into her desk. 

Spencer nodded hesitantly and then began to detail the geographical pinpoint. "Try around the downtown Quantico area. Specifically the more suburban areas. This guy has a basement he's keeping her in." He lists off, pulling back his fingers from his fists as if counting each detail. 

Garcia smiles slightly as she types. "Perfect, just imput the owner and/or the renter of the home and-" Garcia trails for a moment. "There, (Random Quantico suburban address here). Go get your Princess, Reid." Garcia insists, handing him a sticky note with the address. 

Spencer took the note with no hesitation and spun on his heels towards the exit of the building. "Will do." He replies as his paces grow wider and he finds himself run-walking down the stairs instead of the elevator. 

He was going to find you. You were going to be okay. 

~~~ 

I was unlucky enough to wake up only an hour later. Thankfully, he was gone. And I was alone. I hung from the ceiling like a pig in a slaughterhouse. It certainly felt that way too. 

My ankles were thankfully not chained. The cold metal digging into my wrists was enough. 

I squeezed my eyes shut again, and tried to imagine Spencer once more. Maybe fall asleep again. Seeing him again seemed like a lost cause now. Maybe he'll find someone who doesn't jump into situations without thinking like Morgan. Maybe she'll bring him more happiness than I ever did. And maybe she'll get along with everybody better than I did. Maybe he'll want to marry her too- 

Before I knew it tears were cascading down my cheeks. No. No, I couldn't give up yet. We've found people who've been missing for weeks. Though of course that's a rarity. But it still happens. 

I'm still alive. As long as that's true, there's hope for me yet. 

I heaved as air desperately tried to enter my lungs from this position. Everytime I tried to pull up enough to breathe, the harsh and rusted metal cuffs dug farther into my skin.  

I hissed as the cuffs felt sharper around my wrists. I recalled the pictures of the other two victims. They too had deep abrasions on their wrists. Guess they got this treatment too. 

I gripped the chains loosely, trying to give my wrists a break from the harsh edge of the cuffs. I dreaded his return. Knowing it was just going to be more torture. He'd gotten his taste of me. Now he just wanted to see me bleed. 

Suddenly, I heard footsteps above me. I swallowed nervously, bracing myself for whatever he had planned for me next. But that's when I heard the thud of a door being kicked in. My heart skipped a beat as I heard it, hoping for the love of God it was who I thought it was. 

Then the footsteps got quicker and they pounded against the floor above me. I heard a hurried turning of the knob to the door of the basement, before another thud was heard and a plethora of curses followed it. 

My chest got painfully tighter with the hopefulness that I was saved. That maybe… maybe he'd come for me. But the pain was worth it. 

The knob was turned hastily and the door opened. I still couldn't help but lose my breath for a moment. This could all be a misunderstanding. He could be coming down here to kill me. 

But then I saw the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes turn the corner and break at the sight of me hanging from the ceiling. 

"She's down here! I need a medic!" Spencer called back up the stairs. He then raced to my side, trying desperately to undo the cuffs. 

"Y/N… Y-Y/N s-sweetheart…" he whispered, looking at me heartbroken. I swallowed hard and gestured towards the desk in the corner of the tiny basement. 

"O-over th-there. T-the keys…" I whisper hoarsely. My voice must've died on me from all the screaming. Spencer nodded and quickly spun around and grabbed the keys from the cluttered desk of weapons the man used on me. 

Spencer swallowed harshly as he took in the tools that lay against the wood of the desk. Many of them still had blood on them, previously used. It ached deep in his heart. He turned his head away from them and focused on her. On the only one who mattered right now. 

Spencer brought the keys back towards me and quickly unlocked the cuffs. I fall into his arms and he wraps them around me tenderly. "Y/N...t-thank God…" he whispered. His large hand raised up and cradled my head. "I-i'm sorry… s-so..so sorry…" he whispered into my ear, crying as he held me.  

I, although exhausted, found a smile pulling at my lips. "F-for what? F-finding me?" I teased, trying and failing to put my feet on the ground. 

Spencer slightly chuckled and pulled me up farther into his arms. "N-no… not that…" he sighed, pulling me as close as his arms and my body would allow. "Don't put your feet down. Your ankles are still fractured sweetheart." He slightly teases back. I let out a small, tired laugh. 

"S-spence…" I whisper. "P-please… did-" I begin to ask hesitantly. He nods. "He's been taken care of, Y/N. He's in our custody now. I promise." He says, gently caressing my cheek. 

I lean into his touch and sigh in relief. Soon after, Morgan comes down into the basement and almost scares the shit out of me. 

"Thank God…" Morgan sighed in relief upon seeing me. He then turned to Spencer. "Reid, help me carry her up to the paramedics." He insisted. Spencer nodded and began to hoist one of my arms over Morgan’s shoulder to help carry me. "I got you, baby girl. You're safe now." He assured me. I nodded weakly as my eyelids began to fall from exhaustion. 

They carried me up the stairs and helped to lay me onto the stretcher that was brought into the house. The paramedics then brought me out to the ambulance. Spencer was by my side the entire time. 

The paramedics hoisted me into the ambulance and began to work on me and my injuries. It was by around now that I began to really fall asleep. Finally able to sleep without the fear of waking up to a beating. 

One of the paramedics looked to Spencer as he watched Y/N as they began to prepare to head to the ER. "You coming?" He asked. "We don't have long for her." 

Reid looked to Hotch, hoping to be given leave enough to be with Y/N in the ambulance. Hotch nodded. "Go on, Reid. We'll take care of it from here." He assures. 

Spencer smiled at Hotch without another word. He turned around again and entered the ambulance, sitting beside Y/N as the engine started up and they began to drive away. 

Spencer leaned farther and closer towards Y/N, feelings of both relief and sorrow washing over him. He had her back. She was safe. She wasn't dead. She was very much alive. 

~~~ 

Hours later Spencer sat in the waiting room for an update on Y/N. He had been separated from her immediately once they arrived, having no news of her afterwards. Anxiety was all he knew as he dreaded what the doctors were going to say about her injuries. Just how much pain Zavier had caused her. What he did to her. 

JJ, Prentiss, and Morgan all flowed into the waiting room, smiling as they found Spencer bent over with his face deep in his hands. 

"Hey Reid. So… any updates?" Morgan asks, trying to give his friend some space. Spencer rubbed his face tiredly and shook his head. 

"Nothing. Not since we got here." He says with a hard sigh. Emily frowned and caressed his shoulder. 

"She'll be alright. We'll get the evidence we need and she'll only have some scars. I'm sure." Emily assures, giving Spencer a gentle look. 

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose but nodded. They were probably right. "Probably…" he says softly, looking around once more in hopes that the doctor would come through the door. 

Each opening of the door into the actual ER got Spencer worked up. He kept thinking it was the doctor or a nurse calling him back to see her. To see Y/N. But alas, it was not. Time and time again, each and every turn of the knob wasn't for him. 

JJ sighed. "I should've taken this case more seriously when it came across my desk, Reid. Especially when the girls looked like Y/N…" she apologizes, looking down at her feet in shame. 

Spencer looked up and shook his head. "There was nothing you could've done that would have kept him away from her, JJ. Or prevented him seeing her. He'd already had his eye on her and-" Spencer took a deep breath. "My point being that it isn't your fault. Alright?" He promises, looking up at JJ from where he sat. 

JJ sighed and crossed her arms, holding her sides uncomfortably. "I still don't like this. He literally kept her down there and his wife did nothing. This is reminding me of Janice and Cameron Hooker all over again." She groaned, looking towards the hospital entrance as Hotch and Rossi entered. 

"How is she?" Hotch asks, standing next to JJ and next to where Morgan sat. 

Morgan answered for Spencer in a matter of seconds. "No news yet. They still got her back in intensive care. They'll let us know when she's stable, I guess." He shrugged. 

Spencer sighed again and ran another hand through his hair. Hotch noticed this and spoke up. 

"How are you handling this, Reid? I can give you a few days off with her after she's out to get settled. If that'll be alright." Hotch suggested. Spencer felt unease begin to grow in his belly. He almost spoke up on it until Hotch finished his portion of the conversation. "Afterwards I plan to arrange for her to work at her desk and help Garcia. To put both of your minds at ease." Hotch assured. "We cannot have either of you constantly worrying about the other's well-being while on the job for the next few weeks." 

Spencer’s uneasiness immediately faded and was replaced with a feeling of relief once more. He let a small smile find its way onto his face and nodded to Hotch's suggestion. 

"Y-yeah… I think I'd like that." He says softly. 

Not a moment later the door opens and a nurse begins calling for Reid. "Is there a Dr. Spencer Reid here?" The nurse calls. 

Spencer rose to his feet in an instant, biting his lip anxiously. "T-that's me." He answered.

The nurse nodded. "Alright, well we just finished her surgery. She's got a few cracked ribs and one fractured one. She also has some minor damage to her spine. But other than that, just a medium concussion. She's asking for you, by the way." The nurse announces, smiling gently. 

Spencer again couldn't help the smile that teased at his lips when he heard Y/N was asking for him. He followed the nurse back into the ER and towards the recovery room. His heart slightly pounded as he wandered closer and closer to Y/N. 

Then, he saw her. 

Laying in a hospital bed angled slightly up to support her spine, laid Y/N. She looked up at Spencer with tired eyes, smiling at him instantly. 

"Spence…" she called. Spencer was glad to answer to it. He found himself placed at her side immediately, pulling her gently close so as to not damage what the doctors had fixed. 

"Y/N… sweetheart…" he called in a soft whisper, kissing the nape of her neck gently. She hummed softly and held her arms limply around his neck. 

"Spencer… I-I'm sorry… f-for the a-arguing. I j-just-" she began, pulling slightly away from him, although she could not find anything else she feared more. 

Spencer shook his head and pulled her into a full kiss, cupping her bandaged and bruised cheeks. His thumbs gently wiped away her incoming tears and caressed her cheek lovingly. She pressed her lips against his moreso, relief flooding her senses. 

She let herself collapse into his embrace and his kiss, ignoring the pain that came with moving too far forward. Spencer laid her back against the bed to prevent any more injury before he continued to kiss her gently. He'd wanted this for a week. And now he had it.  

After a long moment, Y/N reluctantly pulled away from the long-overdo kiss. She let Spencer’s touch remain on her cheek as he continued to hold her. "Sweetheart, none of that matters to me anymore. You're alive. You're breathing. That's all I need right now." He says sweetly, kissing her forehead as tenderly and as gently as he could. 

Y/N let out a soft giggle and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I love you, Dr. Reid." She teased. Spencer chuckled softly in return. 

"I love you too, Y/N." 

[casualpaladin31]

I love this to bits!!

Have a Sheith Tangled AU <3

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