#and how half of the journey through it is just tedious amounts of climbing/walking up a mountain

[impossible-rat-babies]

first OC thought of 2024 is brought to you by HW we love to see it !

[quirkyquantumqueen]

Some words on my weight loss journey (so far)

I’ve reached a big weight loss goal like 2 weeks ago. I haven’t talked about it much here but since last fall I’ve been on a weight loss journey and I’ve now lost 46 pounds. I thought now would be a good time to make a post about it. I apologize because this is gonna be long but I wanted to talk about it because maybe my experiences will help others.

How did it all begin? Let’s go way way back for a moment. I’ve always been a chubby kid and just don’t have a healthy relationship with food. So I started being really overweight since back in high school. When I was 16 or so, I lost a significant amount of weight by basically barely eating anything at all for a while. So no surprise, I slowly gained the weight back once I started college and especially during a time when I wasn’t in a good place mentally for a while and needed the food for comfort. But I actually learned to really accept my weight in recent years and wasn’t particularly unhappy about it.

So why change something now? Last fall I had a regular check-up and it turned out that my blood pressure was too high and I was put on some light blood pressure medication. However, I wasn’t willing to accept that at the age of 28, I already had to deal with stuff that shouldn’t be a problem until later in life. And so I decided to make some changes. But my focus from the beginning was on getting healthier, not chasing someone else’s definition of beauty and I think that’s what really made the difference here.

What were my first steps? I sat myself down and thought about what some first easy steps that I could change immediately. The first thing was to be more active and so the first simple thing I did was walking home from work instead of taking the bus. Just a small 30 minute walk every day. The second thing I decided was that I would have to stop eating lunch at the canteen. The canteen at our university is actually quite good and offers some healthy options, too. But I just felt like I didn’t have any control if I kept eating there. I made a lot of bowls, tried some new food that I had never prepared before (like different grains and vegetables and stuff).

How did things progress from there? I managed well for a while with just that and some weight started to come off. In the spring I signed up for a weekly fitness course. I also bought some Zumba DVDs and started to do that at home. But even though I increased my physical activity, the weight loss kinda flattened out. I realized I needed a new approach to the way I was eating. So far I had just eaten… less. And I think that actually resulted in me starving myself. So I started tracking my calories (I’m using an app for that). I’ve been sticking to a mild deficit ever since, aiming for a slow weight loss of maybe 1 pound per week (roughly) and I feel quite comfortable with that. A few months ago, I finally felt ready to tackle the sports aspect a bit more and got a gym membership. That was something I was so scared about. But it turns out it wasn’t nearly as scary as I thought. I’ve been quite disciplined with it and now I’m actually there probably 6 days a week. I’m doing Zumba courses on 3 days – which is a lot of fun! And on the other 3 days, I’m doing some weights training.

Where am I now and where do I go from here? A month ago, I stopped my blood pressure medication. I’ve been keeping close track of my blood pressure since then and it looks really good. I’ll have to check back with my doctor soon but it looks like my blood pressure is now in a healthy range without the medication. With that I’ve already reached my most important health goal. I have about 9 pounds to go until I reach my initial weight goal of 75kg (165 pounds). I might wanna bring my weight down to 70kg – that would bring me into the healthy BMI range. But we’ll see. I’m also looking at the body fat percentage as an indicator. I have regular checkups at the gym to see my progress on that. I’m now at 37% body fat, so bringing that down a bit more would be great. I’ve gained around 7 pounds of muscle since I’ve joined the gym. Trying to increase that as well. I also maybe wanna drop one more clothing size so that I can basically buy clothes wherever I want. As you can see, I’m trying to set myself different goals so as to spread out the possibilities for success.

What have I learned and what advice can I give? To be honest, in the end getting here hasn’t been as hard as I thought it would be. But for me personally, making decisions is always the hardest part, following through on things comes easier to me. When it comes to dieting, there is no magic trick you need to know. It’s just a simple energy balance. And that’s the way I approach my food. I don’t ban any food, I basically allow myself whatever I want – as long as I can fit it into my daily calorie budget. And I think what really made the difference is that I started this with a good mindset, always going at it from a health perspective.  I wasn’t trying to punish myself because I resented my body. I was allowing myself to take care of myself and treat my body with respect. That’s also how I still motivate myself for the gym, for example. By not viewing it as a tedious obligation but instead as some time that I actively set aside to take care of myself. I’m very much aware that my work isn’t done yet. Maintenance is gonna be a whole new challenge. But I’m positive I’ll be able to do it. I highly recommend the Half Size Me podcast for lots of useful tips and information and especially for keeping you in the right mindset. Most importantly, I feel really really good right now. I feel healthier and fitter than I ever have and that gives me so much confidence and joy. I’m gonna climb that mountain if I feel like it, I’m gonna go on that camel ride when I’m in Morocco this November because my body is finally not holding me back anymore.

Thanks for listening to my TED talk. No but seriously, if you are reading this and wanna chat about this topic or have any questions - don’t hesitate to message me anytime!

[hopefullythingspanout]

Why, Here´s another tale.

It was the weight of it all that bothered her the most. 

Usually, the weight of the armor was always a strain on her (the Gauntlets and broadsword especially) but she knew that the strain was worth it, if the armor did its job properly; She knew that every time she put that armor on, every time she ever had to use it, it would take a blow that would otherwise prove to be fatal. Yes, despite the strain, she knew that wearing the armor was well worth any physical cost, because it made it a little bit easier for her to come back home, every time she went out.

Just like she was doing right now.

But even the strongest armor has its weak points.

For example, the armor had trouble keeping the metal arrows out- two of which were lodged in her flesh, one in her shoulder, the other in her leg- and it offered no head protection whatsoever, explaining why she had so many cuts, scars, and bruises on her face, as well as why the little amount of hair that was on her head was either singed or ripped away. The armor was also not that great for keeping the cold out, a fact made evident by the terrible job it was doing in keeping up in the freezing blizzard she was currently standing in. 

The armor, however, had done a great job of protecting her heart; she could hear its pulsing beat in her ears. 

The armor had, for the most part, done it´s job. The rest was up to her alone. 

She surveyed the scene in front of her: a red and white landscape in front of her, covered with the scattered corpses of her enemies all around. Goblins, Orcs, even a couple of dragons; They all came at her with the worst intentions in mind, and now they were all bloody, broken, scarred...

She suddenly realized that the only thing that she currently didn´t have it common with these creatures was that she was alive, and they were not. 

Further off in the distance loomed a large, black tower, which promptly stood out against the never-ending backdrop of white and grey. 

Her final destination. Her endgame. 

With her one good arm, she reached across her body, and drew her broadsword out of its sheath, and stuck it into the ground next to her; She brought her almost-but-not-quite out of commission arm up to her heart, not to feel it beat through the armor, but to provide a little protection for the small package that she carried with her; The package she was willing to fight off a whole army to protect. 

She lifted her sword up, and then stuck it in the ground again, just a little bit ahead of herself. Using the sword as a crutch, she began to make her way towards the black tower. 

She had not taken twenty steps when a sharp, searing pain rushed through her leg, and when she turned her head down to look, she saw that it was in the grasp of a half-dead goblin, with its own legs broken into near uselessness.

It spoke in a raspy, choked-up voice: ¨...you think you´ve won?¨, it asked her. ¨Look at you, you´re not much better off than I am. You´ll never make it. You´ll never make it back to-¨.

With a rush of adrenaline, she swung the sword over its head, and drove it, point down, into the goblin´s skull, adding a little more red to the already red-and white landscape. She then continued on towards the tower. 

She had no way of knowing how long it took her to reach the tower; She hadn´t bothered to time her journey, but soon she was standing at the foot of the black tower, in front of its large wooden door. She let go of her sword, and used her good arm to reach inside her armor to retrieve the large key which she kept hung around her neck at all times every time she went out. She slowly stuck the key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the door open, letting the howling winds follow her in.

She looked up, and saw the spiraling stone staircase ascending further and further upward, illuminated only by a few torches on the walls.

That was a bittersweet thing about living in a tower: No floor but the top floor, and it certainly wasn´t fun climbing all those stairs in the heavy armor.

But the armor did its job; It kept her alive. She couldn´t complain. 

She didn´t even bother to bring her sword in; It would just be more weight that she just couldn´t deal with at that moment. With her armor clanking from the slow movement, she began her journey up the stone spiral staircase.

After a little bit, the task of climbing step-by-step in a continuous circle began to grow tedious and mundane, and her mind began to focus on the injuries she had sustained; Her limbs began to stiffen.

¨Not now, Not now,¨ she muttered. ¨Not when I´m so close...¨

While wrapped in thought, she missed a step, and began to fall backwards; She was saved from a long fall down only due to her reflexes, her arm quickly grabbing hold of a crevice in the wall, while she regained her balance. 

She resolved to not lose focus until she had reached the top. After what had seemed like a nearly an eternity, she had reached the top, standing it front of the wooden door that led to the tower´s main chamber.

That led to home.

With her head down, overcome with pain, exhaustion and cold, she used her good arm to push the door open, and slowly trudged into her home.

Her first step ended with her tripping and landing on the cold, stone ground. She screamed through gritted teeth as a metal arrow was driven further into she shoulder from the force of the fall. She then realized that her cry of pain was actually cancelled out by another loud shriek.

Her cat.

Just her luck. She fights off a near-endless horde of monsters, sustains near-fatal battle injuries, trudges across a corpse-covered field in a blizzard, nearly breaks her neck by almost falling backwards on a staircase...

and the thing that finally knocks her to the ground was HER TRIPPING OVER HER OWN CAT.

¨Friggen´ Ginger,¨ she said to the feline, who had just walked over to face her. She was unable to use actual profanity around her furry child. With that comment, that was it. She was physically unable to move anymore. She could do nothing but lie there on the floor, and feel the pain from her wounds...

...until she heard a door open, and walking out of it was her reason for coming home.

Her main reason for wearing the armor.

¨Ging? What happe-¨, the woman in the doorway began to say, until she glanced down at her, lying on the ground, bloody, bruised and wounded. Her eyes widened, and she put her hands to her mouth to hold back a silent scream. She then got on her knees, and slowly shifted her onto her back, cradling her head in her lap.

The moment her head laid against her leg, she felt warm: when she looked up at her, with her one eye that was not swollen shut, and gazed into her blood-red eyes, she felt herself renewed.

The armor protected her, but the woman cradling her, the cat gazing at her from afar: They gave her reason to protect herself.

They gave her that and so much more.

¨Sill...¨, She choked out to her, ¨Gods, Sill, What were you even doing?¨

With the little bit of strength that she regained, Sill used her good arm to pry the package from the grip of her now numb other arm; the package that was her sole reason for going out in the blizzard in the first place.

Sill held up the once brown paper bag to the woman´s face, now dyed a dark burgundy from being held up against a bleeding wound for so long.

¨I picked up our danishes,¨ Sill weakly replied. ¨Happy Birthday...¨ was all she could muster, before slipping into the black void of unconsciousness. 

[nic-and-annie-in-france]

October Break: Hiking in UK and Ireland

Since we had kind of reached our fill of big cities, museums, and palaces last year, the trip I planned for our first vacation this year mostly focused on hiking and sightseeing in nature. Did you know that the British usually say “walking” when Americans would say “hiking”? I think they’re just being modest.

It was nice to be around our fellow English-speakers for a change. However, in Scotland and Ireland, I sometimes had more difficulty understanding English spoken with the regional accents than I would have understanding French!

This was our itinerary:

Day 1: Traveling Aix-les-Bains > Chambéry > Geneva > London Luton Airport > Oxford

Day 2: The Cotswolds AONB (Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty)

Day 3: Sightseeing in Oxford, traveling Oxford > Manchester

Day 4: The Peak District

Day 5: Traveling Manchester > Kendal, Sightseeing in the Lake District

Day 6: The Lake District

Day 7: Traveling Kendal > Glasgow, lunch with K+A, relaxing (I had planned for us to visit Loch Lomond but a combination of lack of planning, gloomy weather, and fatigue made us nix it)

Day 8: Scottish Highlands

Day 9: Sightseeing in Edinburgh, traveling Glasgow > Belfast (via ferry)

Day 10: Giant’s Causeway

Day 11: Traveling Belfast > Dublin > Galway, sightseeing in Galway

Day 12: Connemara National Park

Day 13: Cliffs of Moher, traveling Galway > Cork

Day 14: Killarney National Park

Day 15: Traveling Cork > London Heathrow > Geneva > Culoz > Aix-les-Bains

And here are our miles walked over that time:

The weather/the season. The extended forecast for the UK and Ireland before we left showed rain every single day. However, we only got rained on less than half the time! I knew it was too much to ask for a repeat of the miraculously sunny vacation we had in Paris/Normandy in February, but I was still happy with the amount of dry weather we had. We also had the good fortune of being there to see the fall colors at their very best. Even our rainy and foggy days were enjoyable because of the cozy autumn ambiance.

Going car-less. I was worried that we would have trouble getting out to the trailheads if we relied solely on public buses and trains, but it mostly turned out to be fine. Let’s just say that in our experience, the British transport systems are much more punctual than the Irish ones! Riding instead of driving gave us both the opportunity to relax and enjoy the scenery as we traveled from place to place. Buses and trains in the area almost always had wifi or USB charging onboard (or both), which was an extra bonus because it alleviated my anxieties about missing our stop (we could follow the bus on Google Maps) and/or about my phone dying.

Walkers’ rights and public rights of way. In planning for the trip, I learned that in England, walkers/hikers have organized into formal clubs and won the legal right to have public footpaths and “rights of way” all over the country. I’m still kind of unclear on how this works legally (I googled “Can you just walk anywhere in England,” it didn’t help much), but we took full advantage of these walkers’ rights during our time in the region. We took paths that went through practically infinite sheep pastures, climbing over stiles or letting ourselves through cattle gates as necessary. I think it’s so nice that the country allows people to access the natural beauty of the countryside in a way that really doesn’t harm people’s private property much at all. The sheep never seemed to mind us, after all. It was great to have access to all these places, but even better was the way the English culture has helped to facilitate and accommodate walkers on their journeys. On several different websites I was able to find not only maps of hiking routes, but detailed turn-by-turn instructions for the routes which kept me, a navigationally challenged person, on the right path every time.

No buses in the Cotswolds. Blackberries. Our first hiking day was a Sunday, and no public buses run in the Cotswolds AONB on Sundays. We therefore had to rely on trains alone to reach a trailhead, so our options for starting and ending points were limited. We found a suitable out-and-back trail running from a village called Moreton-in-Marsh to another one called Stow-on-the-Wold. The map and instructions I found for it listed everything in kilometers instead of miles, so when I saw the distance involved, I assumed it wouldn’t be that much in miles without ever actually bothering to do the calculation. By the time we got back to our Airbnb in the evening, we had walked about 17 miles. Oops. Fortunately, our route that day had us pass by lots of hedgerows, and lots of those hedgerows had blackberries growing in them. At first we were hesitant to eat any of them, but as we walked further and further, and our stomachs got hungrier and hungrier, we were eating them by the handful. I’m still not sure whether to feel guilty about this; the blackberries didn’t belong to us, but the sheep in the adjacent pasture could never have reached them, and it seemed pretty unlikely that anyone was growing them on purpose. All I know is that these possibly-sinful blackberries sustained us on our accidentally super long trek that day, and we were both very thankful for them.

The bus at the Lake District. Bus tickets in the Lake District were not sold per ride, but per day, and they were pretty expensive. I was sad we had to pay so much just to get from one town to the next. They turned out to be one of the best value parts of our whole trip! First of all, a ride that is only 25 miles as the crow flies takes an hour and a half. Make it round trip and that makes three whole hours of your day. This sounds like the ride would be tedious and boring, but with the jaw-dropping scenery to look at the whole time, it was so much fun. I listened to The Prisoner of Azkaban on audiobook the whole time and tried to take pictures out the dirty bus window, nudging Nicolas every 30 seconds to show him another beautiful mountainside or lake. The icing on the cake was that the bus driver on the second day gave us a discount for our tickets!

Lunch with K+A. K and I usually check in with each other at the beginning of each school break to see what the other one’s plans are. On our second night, K texted me saying they were in Ireland and planned to go to Scotland later in the week. I told her it sounded like we were doing the same trip, just traveling in opposite directions. Sure enough, we realized that we would all be in Glasgow at the same time, so we planned to have lunch together. K suggested a restaurant where we could eat a three-course meal for £10 apiece, so we went there and caught up on our school years so far and compared notes on our travel itineraries. They had to catch a train soon after their meal, so we didn’t get to hang out for long, but it was nice to see some friendly faces in an unexpected place.

The ferry. We opted to take a ferry instead of a plane from Glasgow to Belfast. I expected that we would have to stand out in the dark and cold for two hours as we waited to arrive in Northern Ireland. The ferry turned out to be more like a cruise ship than the little Valley View ferry I’m used to. We sat in a huge lounge with lots of comfy armchairs and took a nap as we waited to reach the other side of the sea. There were at least two restaurants on board, and there was one room with a large TV where we were warned not to sit because the ferry was expecting four hundred soccer hooligans to come watch a game there. I also saw a sign for a Swedish spa on a different deck. It was a really cool way to travel—I wished the ride had been a bit longer!

Molly the pub dog and George the hostel cat. One of the things we miss most about home is the availability of our friends’ and families’ pets to play with and snuggle. It’s rare that we feel comfortable enough to interact with a stranger’s cat or dog over here. But after another hike in poor weather in Ireland, we stopped in a pub that happened to have a border collie named Molly curled up in front of the fire. As we sipped our coffee, Molly periodically got up from her spot by the fire and visited the tables of the people in the pub. We showered her with so much affection that she laid down under our table and let us rub her belly (excuse the poor quality picture). One of the hostels we stayed at had a permanent resident in George, the ginger cat who was usually found curled up on a window seat in the hallway. Whenever we came across him we gave him a quick pat too.

Traditional foods. Since Great Britain and Ireland are typically colder and rainier than France, their food is typically cozier and heartier. We had bangers and mash, scotch pie, haggis, fish and chips, English breakfasts, Irish stew, black pudding, and steak and ale pie. Yum on all counts.

Non-traditional foods. We were walking to our Airbnb in Manchester when a poster for Taco Bell caught our eye. Although McDonald’s, KFC, and Burger King are commonplace in Europe, we’ve never seen a Taco Bell. We immediately made plans to locate the TB and give it a try, and our dinner there the next evening didn’t disappoint. Although we had to pay about twice as much for it as we do at home, it was worth it to taste our favorite American comfort food so far from home. We also ate an entire Domino’s pizza in a public bus station. I felt like a criminal the whole time, but it was tasty.

Irish music. I love traditional Irish music. In grad school, I had a Spotify playlist of jigs and reels that was perfect for studying to because it was upbeat enough to keep me awake but instrumental enough that the lyrics wouldn’t distract me. We spent the last night of the trip in an Irish bar in Cork where musicians had gathered to play trad music. Music in a cheery pub was a nice complement to a day spent on a cold, rainy walk, as well as a perfect conclusion to our whole vacation. 

[stunudo]

There is one quality which one must possess to win, and that is definiteness of purpose, the knowledge of what one wants, and a burning desire to possess it.

Napoleon Hill

That Got Away: A Criminal Minds Fan-fiction Part 11

Inspired by: Katy Perry’s “The One That Got Away”

Pearl Jam’s “Last Kiss”

Featuring: Spencer Reid x Reader   Setting: Season 4   Rating: Teen

A/N: Hang on! Warning: 3500+ words xoxo Stu

Warnings: Bodily functions, violence

I do not own any of the characters, quotes, images or lyrics.

Part 1   Part 9   Part 10

Michelle was laughing now, a laugh that made you think about drowned puppies and debased children. You gave in and dry heaved into the corner you had peed in a few hours ago. Captivity was not as pretty as they made it look like on television. She tapped her heeled toe in annoyance.

“I am helping her because I finally get to do this, Y/N!” Michelle kicked your chest with all her strength. The back of your head crashed into the brick wall seconds before your shoulders, knocking the breath from your lungs. Your vision wavered, then you were weightless once more. Through the blackness your ears became clouded and you drifted away from the smells on the cold floor.

Penelope Garcia was ransacking public records like it was a sale on Pop! Figures. She was digging through building plans and notation of purchases on the buildings connected to the hotel and convention center. Her fingers flew and her brain pushed on.

“Greetings my League of Heroes!” Her voice called over speaker phone. “So it turns out that Y/N’s father wasn’t the source of all their wealth. It was from the family of the late wife, her mom. Once she died the businesses and money were run without the family involvement, directly. Apparently our unsub number 1, “Auntie Miriam” was on the board of directors for one of the companies, ‘Prokopios Costa Holdings.’”

“Alright Baby Girl, coming back from behind! How does that give us motive?” Derek pushed the skilled analyst.

“It means, that when Dr. Y/L/N, the first one, died,” Garcia took a pause for effect.”

“Y/N Y/L/N became the majority share holder.” Hotch concluded.

“That’s why you’re the boss, boss!” Garcia agreed.

“So why kill Dr. Y/L/N in the first place?” Spencer asked confused, a nearly disgusted look on his face.

“Maybe she didn’t know until Y/N showed up and spoke with the lawyers?” Rossi mused.

“Uh, guys?” Garcia’s fingers were still flying. “Costa Holdings owns the hotel and the connected storage facility.”

“Of course they do.” Hotch acknowledged. “Good work Garcia.”

We were out on a date in my daddy’s car We hadn’t driven very far There in the road, up straight ahead A car was stalled, the engine was dead

The drive to San Francisco was tedious, causing you to swear often and without direction. Your hands cramped with the amount of tension they had supported through clenched fists. California freeways were perfect avenues for your heartbroken rage to pour out. Driving through up the 280 and branching onto the 1 put you on track to reach Auntie Miriam’s by dinner time.

You had never driven the hills of the city before, your dad always insisted on driving when you had visited for the holidays. The trolley’s added to the anxiety of driving through an unfamiliar street system. You silently wished your dad was behind the wheel, then refuted the wish because your father was a banal dictator.

There was a girl running sprints back and forth between your aunt’s driveway and the neighbor’s. She wore Umbro shorts and a sports bra as if she was in a Gatorade commercial. Her sweaty skin was sinuous, mild offense at her athletic body registered internally. You had enough experience with jocks and scholarship athletes at school to groan at the sight of one in their natural habitat.

You pulled into Miriam’s driveway, honking your arrival because you felt like pissing someone off. Spreading the misery around. You sighed and climbed from the VW, time to face the nunnery.

Miriam’s conditions resonated through Spencer’s mind. No weapons, no tricks and no wires. He could do that, in fact he would do that. While Hotch, Rossi, Morgan and Prentiss were coordinating with Garcia, Detective Change and local SWAT. JJ led Spencer to the hallway she had crawled into the hour before.

“Spence, you know this is going to end badly.” JJ gripped his bicep forcefully. “Whenever we split up one of us gets kidnapped.” Her melancholy laugh a poor attempt to break the apprehension they both were feeling. Spencer looked into the concerned face of his colleague and friend. His lips twitched while he wrestled with how to explain the real reasons he had to save Y/N. How this whole nightmare was his fault and it went back farther than Saturday morning at 1 o’clock when Dr. Y/L/N was murdered.

“I think we’re even now,” Spencer teased, the light not reaching his eyes like it normally would. “JJ, get some rest, I’ve got voluntary confinement to get to anyways.” He wrapped her smaller form in a slight hug as he slid past her into the miserable closet. JJ watched his lean body climb down into the darkness. She shoved the stone hatch back into place, securing it beneath its camouflaging mat once more.

The even spacing of the ladder rungs allowed Spencer to focus on counting. His steps, his breaths, his heart beats. His hip felt lighter from removing his holster. He measured time in his journey to understanding why Y/N had been the target of Miriam and Michelle’s unchecked rage. Revenge for petty unrequited love had past the usual time frame for serial stalkers. Power and money for Miriam were more probable motivators. Though he doubted them, as killing her brother was an illogical way to begin the lengthy legal processes of property transfer.

His seething anger at the damage and fear inflicted upon Y/N was buried.  Instead he mentally measured the length of the slope in the small hallway. Spencer’s long legs had walked 207 feet at an incline of roughly 9 degrees. Upon reaching the knob-less door, Spencer noted his surroundings. The walls had fresh paint on them, the fumes lingered. The wooden door had not window nor sight glass. The security camera mounted on the wall showed no signs of power until it whirred to life after he knocked to the old rhythm of “Shave and a Haircut, Two bits.”

I couldn’t stop, so I swerved to the right I’ll never forget the sound that night The screamin’ tires, the bustin’ glass

It was the sixth day of your banishment to your aunt’s Parkside home. You were dusting her second office from the daily list of chores she left for you. Michelle was over because you weren’t sure how to get rid of her, like a reoccurring nightmare or pimple. She was relentless and continually made her presence known.

The week had started off fine. Auntie Miriam had meetings and usual adult weekday work stuff. Unfortunately she was under the impression that your stay was a punishment, so she confiscated your keys. Which was slightly confining, but you could handle it. You had only had the car to yourself for the past year, anyway. When Michelle started hanging around, she was a friendly distraction. You had nothing in common with her besides age and gender; absolutely nothing. You were just so lonely that you made nice.

She asked about school (Ancient Greek was not something worth studying, as if physical therapy was for everyone?) and what you did for fun (listening to rockabilly music and reading were for old people). Eventually your love life came up and you gave in and told her about Spencer. It was hard to talk about him because you were still angry and raw. You may have focused on the romantic stuff, just to impress her. You did not ask nearly as many questions about her life, you only realized after your short stay in San Francisco ended.

It was on that sixth day, the tipping point was reached. She wore her dark hair in a high pony tail and just nosed into ever object left out. “When do you think you’ll be done with the list today?” Her impatient voice asked as she sifted through a stash of paperclips. You had no idea, the lists were becoming more specific and time consuming the longer you were there.

“Probably not until I need to start dinner. Why?” You watched Michelle, her restless body pacing. “Were you planning on me being out of jail today?” You laughed forcibly. Michelle’s arms flopped down in frustration. She huffed.

“Why did you have to get in trouble to visit?” She was really pushing your manners with her accusation. “I mean, we could have had the whole summer and now I just have to watch you clean.”

“One, I didn’t get in trouble. Two, you don’t have to watch me do anything, Michelle.” Your voice was rising now. “I mean, who just hangs out in their neighbor’s house watching their family do chores. Get a clue. I am stuck here for another week and a half: then sayonara !”

Michelle’s gasp told you that you had gone too far, but you didn’t care. She wasn’t anyone important to you. If you were being honest, it felt oddly satisfying to get that off of your chest. She stormed out of the room letting the bird fly at you. When she was presumably out of the house, you went to turn up the radio.

As JJ returned to the conference room and temporary BAU headquarters, the team was strapping on their vests. Rossi and Hotch were conversing with Detective Chang, who was holding blueprints. Morgan caught JJ’s eye, his defined eyebrows umbrellas of questions. She shrugged her shoulders, the lingering feeling of failing Spence twice in one day floating in the back of her mind. Derek felt her dismay, he crossed the room to grab her in a quick hug.

“He’s going to be fine, JJ,” Derek soothed. “That kid is not going to let anything happen down there. Neither are we.” Her blue eyes looked into his dark ones, nodding. The tears gathering in their corners were quickly brushed aside.

“Hotch?” JJ turned. “Mind if I sit at the security station? I am in no shape to go with you guys, but I want to make sure you are covered up here.” Hotch eyed his young agent warily, he nodded, giving permission solemnly.

Rossi patted Derek on the back after the muscular man had holstered his second weapon. Prentiss walked JJ back out into the lobby. She made sure JJ had a seat and could see the monitors that the team had watched her captivity on. “You sure you’re okay watching us? The locals can handle this, JJ. It might be too much right now.”

JJ shook her head, “Emily, I’m fine. I will have Garcia on the line if I need anything. Besides, I will hear everything over the comms either way. Go get Spence and his “lady friend” back.” Her bad joke had both women exchanging awkward grins.

“Never thought I would be hearing that one.” Emily walked back to join the BAU and SWAT, rolling her eyes.

I found the love that I knew I would miss But now she’s gone, even though I hold her tight I lost my love, my life that night

Spencer was trapped in a cliche. There he sat at his kitchen table with crumpled pieces of paper lying in small piles around him. He was attempting to apologize to Y/N for missing her send off. He didn’t feel he could justify his absence. Besides his mother was a person, not an excuse. The words were not forming, thoughts and longings were burying him in guilt. He just missed her.

He decided to start with short, clear, honest sentences. That didn’t work, Spencer began to ramble onto the paper, his abundant thoughts overflowing and clouding his apologies once again. He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, trying to remember their last kiss. It was a peck as he leaned back into the VW, his bottom half getting soaked in the downpour. She had grinned at him and he had smiled back without teeth, his eyes dancing in the streetlights.

It wasn’t enough. That shouldn’t be their last kiss, it was a quick goodnight. Not a goodbye. Spencer closed his eyes behind his glasses, shook his head for clarity and began writing his dearest again.

Spencer stepped back to allow the automatic door to open fully before stepping into the next bare, freshly painted hall. He saw the set of desks ahead, just 100 meters to go. Miriam Y/L/N eyed the tall man with quiet amusement; he had barely changed in years. Spencer tucked his hair behind his ear in slight self-consciousness. This woman resembled her late brother with her wide face and imposing presence. But the similarities ended there, Graham’s kind eyes and jovial air were not shared. Her cold stare and disdain kept with the chill of the surrounding brick.

Spencer stood with his hands in his pockets, nodding at his soon-to-be jailer. “Miriam.”

“Dr. Reid, at last!” Miriam stood quickly. “Arms up, young man. I need to check you followed my instructions, for once.”

Suddenly there were strong hands frisking Spencer’s narrow sides. He flinched away, seeing Kurt Hansen, the bellhop, in the flesh. Spencer held back his field training and let the man finish his search. He cleared his throat and calmed his breathing. “Satisfied?” Spencer spat as he glanced between Kurt and Miriam.

“Quite.” Miriam smirked. “Now if you would kindly follow Mr. Hansen, he will show you to your room.”

“Not until I see Y/N.” Spencer crossed his arms in defiance, his head tilting slightly.

“Oh, pish.” Miriam waved at him, “She’s just next door. Let’s all go and see what Michelle and Y/N have gotten into!” Spencer’s eyes popped in surprise, he had not thought she would let him near her niece. Her true target. He followed Kurt as Miriam marched behind them both. The hall was quiet, a small row of doors began, Spencer counted four before a wide metal garage-like door ended the hall.

“After we give you what you want, you’ll just what? Release us?” Spencer asked.

“After I have what I need and am far far away, yes.” Miriam specified. “I swear I will let you and your little minx go.” She nodded to her cohort. Spencer’s instincts were not accepting her vow as trustworthy just yet.

Kurt unlocked the large steal bolt on the first room. The sound reverberated through the small space and rattled Spencer’s bones of hearing. Standing on the other side of the door was Michelle Braxton, with her large hands on her hips. “It’s about time!” She huffed. “Princess over there has been out for five minutes. I thought you forgot about me.” She sounded like a child whining to a spoiling parent for more sweets. Spencer had to hide his instant annoyance.

As Kurt grunted back, “Deal with it, Mickey. We had another guest to attend to.” He held the door wider, baring Spencer to the scene before him. Y/N was laying face down on the damp cement floor, her mouth open and one eye swollen shut. Spencer’s arms flew from his pockets and he rushed to check on her limp body. Kurt and Michelle each grabbed one of his flailing arms, holding him just inside Y/N’s cell.

Miriam cleared her throat behind Spencer, “That’s enough, now let’s get down to business.”

Spencer knew not to argue now, his body walked dejectedly backwards as his eyes remained on the slight movement of Y/N’s torso. She was breathing! Once he was back in the narrow hall, he shook off the strong grips of the suspects. He held his hands up in surrender, following to his own captivity. Miriam was waiting for him in the dank space, almost smiling in anticipation.

“Dr. Reid, as I am sure you have deduced. I need your mind to access my brother’s fortune. I have a series of riddles, puzzles, what-have-yous that Graham designed for you. I also have a set for my impetuous niece. Now I must have both of you complete your parts to get what I deserve.”

Spencer was insulted by the trivial reasoning behind her fratricide. He huffed at her request. “How do you know your errand girl didn’t beat Y/N beyond reasoning? How is she going to complete her part unconsciously? You should let me check on her, ensure she can do what you need her—”

“That’s enough, Dr. Reid.” Miriam interjected. “Y/N will be fine, Michelle knows what she is doing. A brain like Y/N’s tends to prove more resilient than one might hope.” She approached Spencer with a sheet of paper and a simple number 2 pencil. “You may begin.”

The two guards at the door watched Spencer as he stood in the center of the room. Miriam left first, followed by a smirking Michelle and a bored Kurt. The metal lock shuttered into place.

When I woke up, the rain was pourin’ down There were people standing all around Something warm runnin’ in my eyes But somehow I found my baby that night

You arrived on campus just one day before classes started. The VW had handled the trek like a champion, but you were ready to leave her in the student lot for the remainder of the semester. After you had unloaded the last of your boxes, you decided to grab some dinner before the real unpacking was required.

You took your i.d. and keys to check the campus managed mail system on the way to the crowded eating/ studying space. Your box was jammed full. There were notices about x, y and z organizations, a couple of credit card applications and five letters from a certain scrawny guy with ridiculously soft lips. You sighed deeply, ‘Well, at least he’s not dead.’ You thought bitterly. You shoved your haul under your armpit as you headed to the cacophony of the cafeteria.

You quickly skimmed the fliers and advertisements, ripping the debt-magnets in halves. Finally, after your soup had cooled, you opened one of Spencer’s letters. According to the postmarks, they had begun arriving four days after you had left Pasadena. So he was thinking about you while you were gone, but he couldn’t bother to actually send you off. You tried to keep the negative thoughts away, but you were still hurt from his apparent abandonment.

When you shut off your attitude and read his letter, you began to weep. His gentle kindness begged for your forgiveness. Spencer knew facts and figures, but he also knew how to diffuse your temper. His message was simple, yet honest. You didn’t make it to the last paragraph before disregarding your meal tray to return to your room to call him.

“Hey, Sir-sir,” You smiled shyly into your suite phone.

“Y/N? Oh, how are you?” Spencer asked genuinely concerned.

“Better, I got your letters,” You cooed, “I only got through most of the first one before I had to talk to you again. So, it is safe to say you are forgiven.”

“You had every right to be angry,” Spencer admitted. “But know that I would have been there, giving you a more deserving farewell, if I could have. You must know that.”

You nodded your head, holding the lump in your throat as the bittersweet tears began to fall. “I miss you so much, how are we going to do this?”

“Just like this, mon cher.” Spencer’s voice softened at your distress. “As long as we can talk and write, we can do this.”

Spencer read through the riddles on the sheet before him. Why had Graham mentioned Spencer when he devised this seemingly juvenile test?

Why did I divide sin by tan?

Why should the number 288 never be mentioned?  AND

What is the difference between a Ph.D. in mathematics and a large pizza? There were seven blanks at the bottom of the page, with the decimal going into the ten thousandths place. After all of this anger, frustration and happenstance: Spencer was sitting cross legged in a cell chuckling at math puns. The gentle hand of grief constricted his throat as he efficiently finished the problem.

201.0966

Spencer stood, clearing the dust from his trousers. He walked calmly to the camera nestled above the doorway. He held the paper to the screen, awaiting his next assignment.

Someone said you had your tattoo removed Saw you downtown singing the Blues It’s time to face the music I’m no longer your muse

The first months of the fall semester flew by as Spencer dove into the new classes he helped facilitate. That with all the lab time to get through for his doctoral level chemistry courses, he was as busy as ever. He made a point to write to Y/N on Tuesdays over lunch, because it was now such a tradition for them. They also tried to have a consistent phone date on Friday mornings. But Y/N decided it was time she get a campus job, therefore the phone calls were usually brief or just short messages left with her suite-mates.

Spencer’s birthday was approaching and he was counting the hours until he could finally be recognized as an adult. This also meant that he would have to finally decide what he should do for his mother. The paperwork from the lawyers, (Diana’s doctors had recommended to Spencer after her incident over the summer) was hidden in his book bag, in a plain manila folder. He felt as if he were carrying thirty pieces of silver around with him at all times.

When his birthday arrived, his mother was lucid. She sat him down and told him his birth story, again. She was so proud of her brilliant boy and at long last here he was, a man. He didn’t have class or lab until the afternoon, so he stayed home and took turns reading and being read to by his mom. It was guilty conscious more than birthday tradition, but she seemed none the wiser. Spencer slowly relaxed for the day.

Y/N called at eight o’clock that night, just before he had to get his mom her night time medications. She sang a boisterous Happy Birthday having somehow convinced the other girls in her suite to sing along. Spencer blushed at the attention, even over the phone and across state lines. “Well, now you’re legal, Dr. Reid. Maybe I won’t get arrested for seducing you after all.” Y/N joked over the phone. They had never gotten to that level of intimacy, it was just her usual banter.

“It’s a good thing, too. Since my mother is very protective of me.” Spencer teased back. “I do need to get going though, Y/N/N. Talk to you on Friday?”

“Can we scoot it up to 9 am?” She suggested evasively.

“Ugh, I suppose, I don’t need sleep or anything.” Spencer chided, his grin fading as his mother called from her room. “I really should go, goodnight mon cher.”

“Nighters!”

Part 12

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