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shewroteaworld · 7 months

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Unsub Bait

Premise: For the fourth time, brilliant sunshine!reader is asked to bait the unsub. For the first time, Spencer has a problem with this.

Word count: approx. 2,000

Tw: canon-typical discussions of violence

Author's Note: Welcome to the second installment of brilliant sunshine!reader (meaning highly intelligent sunshine!reader) x Spencer Reid! While you don't have to read my first brilliant sunshine! reader fic to understand this one, I would highly recommend reading it. It's titled "I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't." Hope you enjoy! :) <3

“Here’s an overview of the first phase of the operation: (Y/N) will go undercover as a college student at Yale. She’ll get acquainted with the unsub at Speakeasy, the New Haven bar where he assesses potential victims. We’ll apprehend him in the act of attempted kidnapping.” Hotchner listed for the team.

You’d played unsub lure almost a comical number of times. Once? That’s a once in a million task required to capture a once in a million unsub. Twice? You’d only have two nickels, but it’s weird that it happened twice, right? But four times?

You’d already joked to Hotch that you should add “professional unsub bait” to your resume.

It would’ve been more comical if it wasn’t so scary.

You took a deep breath as you stared at the photos of the victims on the mahogany conference room table. Melissa Grey. Audrey Bernstein. Alivia Johnson. You could see your 21-year-old self in their eyes. You remember being so young and full of anxiety; you were near graduating from MIT. You couldn’t sleep at night from worrying if you had already lived up to your potential and would spend the rest of your years a washed up gifted kid– an academic has–been. After graduation, you proved to yourself your worth.

The college juniors in the photographs had their lives cut short by the unsub before they had the opportunity to find out what amazing places their brilliant minds could take them. You were about to allow said unsub to nearly kidnap you.

That is, if you didn’t blow your cover. Then, he would hold you hostage or attempt to kill you as soon as possible by skipping his usual "kidnap and torture" routine.

Rationally, you knew your field experience more than prepared you for this task. Also, you knew your team had your back. They always kept you safe and healthy. The one time you were put at serious risk, you had to fight to be left alone after the case closed. But, you’re not sure if all the facts in the world could adequately calm your adrenal glands.

“Is this necessary?” Spencer suddenly interjected.

You turned to Spencer in surprise. “It’s the quickest way. We have twenty-four hours,” You said.

The unsub had a pattern; a girl was dying once every two weeks, and, when the the local and Connecticut police force combined failed to contain the situation, the BAU was brought into the case 36 hours before the next killing. With his eidetic memory, you were certain Spencer couldn't forget the time restraints if he tried, hence why you were stunned by his sudden brazenness. However, given Spencer's traumatic relationship history and your budding romance, Spencer's behavior was a lot more likely.

You and Spencer had been dating for a couple weeks. Despite being certain the team had their suspicions, you kept your relationship on the downlow. Strong boundaries were a good thing to keep when your relationship was in its fragile, formative era. Plus, you both agreed it was best to keep a high level of professionalism.

This was the first time Spencer broke protocol.

“I think there’s another way.” Spencer continued. “It’s unsafe and illogical to put anyone’s life into considerable risk if there’s another viable option.”

“Are you implying I’m being rash, Reid?” Hotchner asked with a raised eyebrow.

Usually, Spence would look away and take a breath. He’d at least have the decency to act timid, especially given the fact the entire team pulled multiple all-nighters in an effort to catch this serial killer. Instead, he leveled with Hotchner’s glare and asserted himself further. “I just think we’ve gotten a little too comfy using (Y/N) as an unsub lure. The more we do, the more probable a disaster will occur with her in the line of fire.”

“Spencer,” Morgan cut in gently. There was sympathy in his eyes. “We’ve done this with (Y/N) before. We’re good at reading her. And she knows the drill. We’ll keep her safe.”

“Yes, because that’s something we can certainly guarantee when she’s 3 inches from a serial killer.” Spencer deadpanned.

“Reid. A word.” Without waiting for Spencer’s reaction, Hotch left the meeting room. With a hard look in his eye, Spencer filed after Hotch. You were relieved he was still obedient despite being ornery.

For a few moments, the team sat in silence.

Rossi broke the spell with the scrape of his chair. “Well, I for one, am going to take this impromptu intermission as an opportunity to grab coffee. Any requests?” Rossi asked.

“I’ll take a barbajada.” You joked half-heartedly.

“Very funny, (L/N). Any requests the office Keurig can complete in less than five minutes?”

The team rattled off their go-to office drink orders, but it faded to white noise. During your friendship, Spencer would always care for you when you had to lure the unsub. He’d be more attentive on the jet ride in and out. He’d check in on your mental state directly after the unsub was arrested and always called you once you got home. Once, after the particularly stressful unsub encounter, he sent you links to PTSD articles and even offered to help you schedule an appointment with a specialized therapist through the FBI’s mental health services.

But he’d never once intervened with a plan for you to go undercover. You knew Spencer Reid was nothing if not rational. He knew Hotch valued every member of his team. He knew Hotch would never send you undercover if it wasn’t necessary to stop a killing spree before more young women became statistics.

Therefore, you knew Spencer was thinking about Maeve.

You stood.

“Where you going, Beauty Queen?” Morgan asked.

“Just heading to the restroom.” You lied.

You walked down the hall and crept up the stairs. You tiptoed down the east wing of the second floor to avoid clicking your heels against the concrete.

You crept to the side of Hotch’s office. You pressed your back to the wall.

Hotch said something indecipherable. An angry Reid answered.

“And all I’m saying is, she is not a cat with nine lives! She has one life. One precious life, that I think we’ve been a little too careless with.”

“Reid, you know I would never risk putting (Y/N) in harm’s way if it wasn’t the best course of action. She’s experienced with this. The team is experienced with this.”

A beat of silence passed.

“Promise me that if you have so much as an inkling her life is in danger–”

“We’ll do everything in our power to get her out of there.”

“That’s the thing! ‘Everything in our power…’ It’s not enough. How many times have we told families we did everything we could when all they have left is a body bag?”

Your heart froze. Both of the voices lowered. You could only catch bits and pieces of Hotch’s speech. You were never an eavesdropper, but despite your better nature, you crept around the corner towards the door.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone to an unsub, Spencer. I know how it sticks with you. I know how it changes the job. But you have to trust us– the team. We’re going to protect her. And we’re going to be there for you,” Hotch said.

Spencer sighed. "How did you do it?" Spencer's voice cracked. "After Haley, Hotch? I’m not sure if I can survive this.” He sounded seconds away from tears.

At that moment, you knew you would not sleep comfortably at night if you continued to be a fly on the wall. You tiptoed back down the east wing and waited for Spencer at the bottom of the stairs.

Ten minutes passed before Spencer appeared at the top of the staircase.

“Spencer?” You called.

His hazel eyes were tinged pink. He walked down the stairs nonchalantly. “Hey, um, would you mind if we discussed part of the case file real quick? Privately? It could help, um…” He cleared his throat. “Develop your persona.”

“Yes, of course.”

Spencer didn’t look at you as he power walked down the hall towards the janitorial closets. For the first time since you started dating, he didn’t adjust to your walking pace.

He flung a door open and yanked you inside.

Carelessly, Spencer slammed the door behind you. Before you could get a word in, he pulled you into a bear hug.

“Spencer.” You whispered. “I’m here. I’m okay.”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair.

You stood in the statue of a hug for two minutes.

“I can’t lose you.” Spencer whispered.

“You won’t.”

Spencer pulled away from you. He bent down to look you in the eye. He squeezed your shoulders. His eyes danced with emotion. There was a deep ache, a whirlpool of sadness that you knew a lifetime may never heal. What perplexed you was the hardness that you could only read as anger.

“I…” He sighed. He hung his head. He dragged his palms down the slope of your shoulders to your forearms. It was like he was taking a cast of you with his hands.

“I’m not dead on arrival. I’m still here. I’m coming back on that jet ride home with you. I’m going to be okay.” You reciprocated his shoulder squeeze. “You’re going to be okay.”

Spencer shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I care about you. It’s a part of the girlfriend package.” Spencer pulled you into another constricting hug.

“I can’t fathom how difficult this must be for you.” You whispered.

Spencer pressed his forehead to yours. “Promise me when you go out there, you won’t worry about me. I want you to only focus on you, your surroundings, and making sure you get out of there.”

“I promise, Spencer.” You said, though you weren’t sure if that would be the truth.

“And one more thing,” He said. His irises were so close to yours you could pick apart the layer of green and brown. “As soon as you feel unsafe, you call someone. If you have any inclination he’s going to overtake you–”

“I call the team.”

He took a step back and ran his hands through his hair. “I know you’re strong. I’m not trying to insult your field work.”

Your heart cracked. “Spencer, love, I know that. I’m so happy you care about me. I just wish this situation hurt you less.”

He dropped his hands to his sides. His brows furrowed. He stared at a random point to the left of your face.

“Can you do something for me? Before we leave?” He asked, still not meeting your gaze.

“What is it, Spence?”

He took a deep breath. He met your eyes again. “Dance with me.”

“What?”

“Dance with me. I…” He inhaled deeply. “I never got to dance with Maeve before she…I barely even got to hold her. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

You closed the distance between you and Spencer. You cupped his face in your hands, and he instinctively leaned into your touch. His eyes shone with tears. “I’ll dance with you for the rest of my days, Spence.”

He whipped out his phone. He turned on a slow jazz song you played for him last winter on an impromptu hot chocolate date.

Your heart skipped a beat. You could go on that same date again, but it would have a whole new color to it.

He slid his phone onto a cleaning supply shelf. He pulled you to his chest. Your head nestled right beneath his collarbone. You wrapped your arms around his mid back.

You danced, bodies pressed together like puzzle pieces, in silence until the song ended. The symphony of emotions didn’t cease with the final brush of the snare.

Spencer continued swaying with you.

“I’m going to be okay.” You whispered.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “You can’t promise me that.” He held you even tighter. “But I can promise you I’ll do everything in my power to make sure you come home to me.”

Author's Note: Hello to all my new followers! I'm so glad you're here! I'm so grateful for the overwhelmingly positive reception to "I'll Hold Your Weight When You Can't." Hope you enjoyed this piece as well!

I hope you have a great day or night wherever you are in this crazy world.

xoxo,

shewroteaworld

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