#spencer reid x female mc

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Obsessed (Spencer Reid x fem!MC)

Summary: Aria is a senior in college who attends an informational seminar that Spencer and Rossi put on, and chases them down afterwards to talk to them about the BAU

Content: Spencer and Aria’s first meeting (idk it’s not fluff or angst or anything like that so I’m not sure how to classify it)

Warnings: Swearing

MC’s name and pronouns: Aria (are-ee-ah) Glenn, she/her

Word Count: 1863

A/N: Ok, listen, I know the timeline doesn’t add up for Reid and the MC’s ages, but we’re just going to have to pretend it does because I want to avoid math at all costs. Plus, I think that if we’re working with in-universe ages, there wouldn’t be a situation aside from Seasons One and Two where Spencer wouldn’t be (conventionally) too old for a college senior. So we’re just gonna have to ~imagine~ a little bit. 

Therefore, let’s just say that the MC is 22 and Spencer is 25 in this scene.

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“You know, I still don’t understand why they always ask me to speak at these things. It’s not as if I relate well to college students, I graduated when I was seventeen.”

“You’re young. I don’t know what more you want me to say, Reid. Got an issue with it, take it up with Strauss.”

“Honestly, they’d be better off sending Garcia; she at least knows all the internet lingo. I swear to god if I have to ask her what another -”

“Dr. Reid!”

I’d barely managed to find them, finally fighting my way through the crowd of students to make it into their line of sight. I ran up to them, still breathing heavily but trying to maintain a smile that looked like a normal, not crazy person.

“I’m Aria Glenn. It’s nice to meet you both!”

I shook hands with Rossi, holding out my hand to Spencer before he butt in. 

“He doesn’t really do handshakes.”

“Ahh. Right. Sorry, I knew that,” I slipped my hand back into my pocket, trying to fight off the embarrassment enough to continue talking. “Also, sorry for kind of chasing you down out here. I got swept up in the hallway crowd - you know how it is - and totally lost you guys after the seminar.”

I was almost worried I offended him for some reason when he didn’t respond, just looking at me for a minute when I thought I heard him mumble something to himself about an IQ of 60. Before I could ask what the hell that meant, he spoke again. 

“Oh! Right, the seminar. What did you think?”

“Holy shit it was so interesting - wait, I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t swear in front of FBI agents -”

The embarrassment was back in full force, and I unconsciously spun one of my rings around my finger, my eyes dropping to the floor before I heard Rossi laugh.

“You’re fine. You should meet Agent Prentiss after a couple of drinks, she’s worse than that, trust me.”

I knew he’d just been joking, but my curiosity got the better of me. “Emily Prentiss?”

“You know Prentiss?” He looked confused, and suddenly I regretted ever opening my mouth. 

Because revealing I knew of Prentiss meant revealing that I knew way more than the average person about all of them.

“I mean, I don’t know her personally…  but I know you guys,” I tried to talk around it before sighing. “I follow your team pretty closely - I mean, I know she’s not technically on your team anymore because of Interpol, but I still feel like - nevermind. The work you guys do is so interesting! I mean, I know that we’ve seen profiling within the FBI since 1972, but the way that you guys are able to apply it to fieldwork… it’s incredible, honestly. And I know, it’s kind of strange to be obsessed with one team within the BAU, but I’ve really been interested in behavioral analysis since I realized it was a thing, your team just kind of caught my attention and -”

And they were both staring at me.

“Sorry. I tend to ramble -”

“Seems like you two have something in common then,” Rossi joked, and Spencer just rolled his eyes before offering me a small smile.

“He’s got a point though, I also tend to ramble. It’s so easy to get lost in a thought and not even realize you’re doing it.”

“Right? Like, half the time people just cut me off because I’m just gone.”

“Exactly!” He laughed a bit, and I grinned. 

He has a very nice smile.

I shut down that train of thought before it could even leave the station, realizing I hadn’t even mentioned the reason that I chased them down through my school hallway.

“Anyway, what I really wanted to talk to you guys about was the seminar. Like I mentioned, I’m really interested in behavioral science, and I just wanted to talk to you guys about how I could possibly get into a field like that?”

The next ten minutes consisted of me playing a game with myself that I liked to call “Why can’t you fucking focus on the explanation and not on Dr. Spencer Reid’s face?” 

“We also have some information on our website related to the BAU - you’d have to graduate the academy first, of course, so it would be a few years at least, but you can apply as soon as you get out of college. What grade are you in right now?” He opened up the bag he had slung across his body as he spoke, clearly digging through it for something as I shook myself out of my thoughts long enough to realize he’d asked me a question.

“Oh, I’m a senior. I’m a communications major, but I minored in sociology, and I’ve also been taking some psychology classes. What’s really cool to me is just the way that the human brain works; that’s why I’ve always found profiling and all that shi - stuff, sorry - all that stuff so interesting.”

“Well you could probably apply for the academy right away. Honestly, we always tell people at these seminars that it doesn’t really matter what you majored in. Having a team with a diverse set of specified knowledge is a major bonus within the field. We have a woman who studied linguistics -”

“Yeah, Alex Blake, right? I’ve read some of her papers online, they’re really interesting.”

Spencer smiled, clearly a lot more relaxed since the beginning of our conversation. Rossi had taken a backseat to Spencer’s explanation, flicking through a file he’d brought for the seminar. I wasn’t sure if he was actually reading it or if he was just trying to look like he was doing something important, but I was too focused on my current topic of discussion to dwell on it too much. 

“That’s her! She’s awesome; even with people sometimes leaving and new people coming in, the team is kind of like one big family. It’s a really great place to work.”

“Plus, you get to use all of your practically unlimited wealth of knowledge. Eidetic memory, right?”

“You really did your research, didn’t you?” He laughed before continuing, “But yes, I do have an eidetic memory. Though I would say calling my knowledge ‘unlimited’ is definitely being generous.”

“I don’t know, I’ve read some of your papers too, Dr. Reid. Graduated at 17, two PHDs by the time you were 21? ‘Unlimited’ is pretty damn close.”

“You don’t have to have an eidetic memory to get two doctorates.”

“No, but you do have to have something special to finish them both within four years.”

“I’ll be honest, it did help,” He joked. It caught me off guard, how easy it was to talk to him. It was like we’d known each other for months, not minutes. 

“I can only imagine. Unfortunately, I do not have an eidetic memory: as a matter of fact, I have a terrible one. So you said you had some written information for me or something?”

“My explanation went in one ear and out the other, did it?”

“Not intentionally, but I’ve never been great with remembering anything. It’s only one of my skills: forgetting everything immediately after someone tells it to me.”

“Truly a woman of many talents.”

“But of course.”

I probably would’ve retained more of your explanation if I wasn’t so distracted by you the whole time.

I stopped myself from saying it, but it wasn’t a lie. He was probably the most attractive man I’d seen in a while. Not that that was saying much, given the wonderful selection of frat-boy assholes I went to school with. 

He rummaged through his bag for another moment before pulling out a pamphlet.

“Um, this is about the academy - I’m not sure off the top of my head when the application period starts next year, but I’m sure they have something on the website if you’re interested.”

“I really am. Thank you, Dr. Reid.”

“Of course. Oh, and let me give you this…” He reached into one of the pockets on his blazer, pulling out his business card and handing it to me. “If you ever need anything, please feel free to let me know.”

I took it from him, trying to fight the giddy smile on my face. “Ooo, very fancy. Maybe I’ll laminate it.”

He laughed, “I’d be honored.”

“Well I would hope so, I don’t laminate just anybody’s business cards.”

“Just reserved for the FBI agents you’re obsessed with?”

“Hey, that’s not fair - I’m not obsessed with you guys! I’m merely... an admirer. And hopefully a possible coworker, one day.”

“Oh I expect it.” The honesty in that statement surprised me, and I couldn’t help the warm feeling in my chest when he said it. Just the fact that I got the chance to speak with them was exciting enough, but I never imagined it going this well. 

“I really appreciate that. You have no idea.” I smiled, tucking his business card in my back pocket. 

“It’s the truth - you seem like the right kind of person for the job.”

“And you figured that out within the twenty minutes we’ve been standing here talking?” 

“I’m a profiler. I kind of get paid to figure people out very quickly. Among other things.”

“You know, I would ask you to profile me, but I don’t think I’m emotionally prepared to hear you pick me apart based on my behavior.”

“If it helps, your profile is composed of very good things.”

“Ahh, well, you’ve only known me for twenty minutes. I’ll really throw you for a loop when you hit the thirty minute mark.”

“We might just have to talk more then. You know, so I can finish my profile.”

“Of course - I wouldn’t want to cut the genius short.”

He laughed outright at that before glancing at his watch. “Unfortunately I think that might have to be another time, we’ve gotta run. But it was wonderful to meet you, and I hope to see you around! Again, give me a call if you need anything - I’m always down to be your inside man in the FBI,” He joked, before his brow furrowed and he amended his previous statement. “Unless it’s for something illegal. Then I don’t think I’m allowed to do that.”

“I promise I won’t ask you to help me hide any bodies, Dr. Reid,” I laughed, “And it was wonderful to meet you as well! Maybe the next time you see me, I’ll have ‘SSA’ before my name.”

“I believe it.” He gave me an encouraging smile before tapping Rossi on the shoulder, both of them descending the staircase down to the first floor. I watched them walk out of the building before I pulled out the pamphlet and the business card Spencer had given me, staring dumbfounded at the glossy FBI logo on the front. 

That night, I went home and printed the FBI Academy application. 

I’d always been an indecisive person, but I was never more sure of anything in my life. This was what I wanted to do. 

And I wasn’t going to let anything stop me. 

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Scum of the Earth (Spencer Reid x fem!MC)

Summary: After a prison interview gone wrong, MC is left to recover from the disgusting things the prisoner said (with Spencer’s help, of course)

Content: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Mentions of violence related to crime, including rape and torture, as well as swearing

MC’s name and pronouns: no name mentioned, she/her

Word Count: 2420

A/N: Can you tell I watched Mindhunter right before I wrote this one? lmao

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“Pretty girl,” the man in front of me clicked his tongue, observing me from his position across the interview table, “The things I’d do to you…”

My hands trembled, but I forced myself to appear calm as I leaned in, a challenge in my eyes. “Would you do to me what you did to those girls?”

He let out a harsh laugh, one that sent a shock of fear straight through my body. He leaned back in his chair, giving me a shameless once over before he spoke again. 

“Oh sweetheart, you’re better than any of those whores.”

“Whores? So you mean to tell me you weren’t attracted to them?”

“Of course I was attracted to them,” He scoffs, as if it was obvious, “How could I not be? No, I was attracted to them; I just didn’t respect them.”

“And you respect me?”

“Well you are an FBI agent, are you not?”

“People like you have a tendency to resent us more than respect us, if I’m honest with you.”

“People like me? You mean monsters. Is that how you see me, Agent? A monster?”

“Not monsters. I merely mean people in prison. We are the reason you’re in this hellhole, after all.”

“Dirty mouth,” He laughed, “Wonder what else you could do with that.”

“I -”

“You asked me if I’d do to you what I did to the other girls,” He leaned in now, his face inches from mine, his voice barely above a whisper, “The girls I raped. The ones that I tortured, that I murdered. Would you like to hear what’s running through my mind right now, honey?”

I couldn’t breathe, my throat tightening as cold fear coursed through my body. But my entire job was to figure out how this man thought. For research.

Nothing in my research could’ve prepared me for what he was about to say, though. 

“That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it? To hear what’s running through your mind?” I replied. His mouth curled into a haunting grin, and he lowered his voice even more, as if he was trying to keep the people he knew were monitoring this interview from outside the room from hearing him.

“I’d take my time on you,” He started, his voice making every inch of my skin crawl, “Too good to waste…”

I had to force myself not to pull away as he began to detail exactly what he was thinking, his voice still too low for Hotch to hear him through the weak security camera microphones. 

Never in my entire career did I imagine I’d be sitting across from vermin like him, listening as he described, in painstakingly visual imagery, how he’d force himself on me, how he’d torture me until I craved the sweet relief of death. How he’d finally murder me. My entire body was shaking, and I couldn’t do anything but bite back the nausea at the scenes he detailed for me. 

I had half a mind to thank god that I remembered to turn on the recorder in my front pocket. There was no way that the mics on the security cameras were picking this up - there was a reason no one had pulled me out of the room yet - and the things he was saying were incredibly revealing, from a behavioral standpoint. But I couldn’t be excited about the new information when he was describing my own death in front of me.

It wasn’t until he reached up and ran his finger along the curve of my jaw that Hotch stormed back in. I hadn’t realized I was close enough to him for him to touch me, but I flinched away from his touch, making him laugh as guards returned to the room, pulling his arms behind his back and escorting him from the room as he laughed.

“Hope you got the information that you needed, sweetheart!” He called as he was removed from the area. I heard his laughter echo up and down the hall, and I immediately rose from the table, my hands still shaking. 

“Can it, Lewis!” One of the guards demanded, but it was quiet as the sounds faded down the hall.

Hotch’s expression of anger turned to one of concern when he saw my expression, my face paled, my eyes far away. 

“What was he saying to you?” He asked. I just pulled my recorder out of my pocket with trembling hands, holding it out to him and fumbling with the button to turn it off so I didn’t waste space. 

“You can listen for yourself. I can’t -” I shook my head, trying to clear it. 

“Ok,” He took it from me, slipping it into the pocket of his suit as he regarded me carefully, “Ok. Are you good to walk back out of here?” 

I attempted to steady my breathing before nodding and grabbing my blazer off the back of the chair, slipping it on and following Hotch out of the prison. I felt a bit better with every step away from the prison we took, but his voice bounced around my mind, the scenes that my imagination created so vivid that I couldn’t seem to push them away. 

Somehow, he knew exactly how to play on my history to get under my skin. He knew exactly what to say to make my skin crawl, and it made another wave of nausea wash over me just thinking about it. Because as bad as the horrors I’d just heard were, they brought about an even more terrifying question.

How did he know?

I had half a mind to ask, but there was a chance it was just a coincidence. I knew that if Hotch had any concerns after listening to the recording I’d made, he’d come to me about it. For the moment, I merely stared out the window, watching the scenery rush by on our way back to the jet. When we finally arrived at the airstrip, I wanted nothing more than to be alone. 

Or at least, alone with one other person. 

Spencer greeted us when we got back on the jet, and immediately he could tell that something was wrong. I was pretty sure my hands were still shaking, and he pulled me into a tight hug.

“How’d the interview go?” He asked. I wasn’t sure if the question was directed at me or Hotch, but I replied before he could.

“It was incredibly informative,” I broke the hug, pulling back to talk to the both of them, “His conversation directly with me revealed a lot about his thought process when doing what he did.”

“Directly with - you were in there by yourself?” Spencer immediately snapped his gaze to Hotch. 

“Calm down, Spence, I volunteered to talk to him alone. You really think our resident Unit Dad here would just ditch me?” I joked, to which Hotch rolled his eyes as I continued explaining, “I thought that I might be able to elicit a more honest response from him if I was talking to him one on one.”

“Because you’re a pretty young woman,” Spencer stated, showing he understood my thought process. I just faked a scandalized gasp, one shaky hand on my chest.

“Dr. Reid, are you calling me pretty? You know, that’s very unprofessional behavior for the workplace.”

“I can think of some behavior that’s a bit more unprofessional,” He teased before pulling me in for a quick kiss. I heard Emily’s voice from behind us. 

“Ugh, sit down!” She called. I offered her a choice gesture before moving away from Spencer, moving to sit in the corner near the back of the plane. Hotch held up my recorder as he walked by, signaling that he was going to listen to it and bringing the nausea back in full force. 

I felt the color drain from my face again, though he didn’t notice. He’d already taken his seat, pulling out a laptop and headphones from his bag. 

Spencer noticed though, from his seat across from me.

“Hey,” He grabbed my hands. I hadn’t even noticed they’d started trembling again. “What happened in there?”

“I - he’s a disgusting person, Spence. Like, scum of the earth disgusting.”

“Lewis?”

I nodded, and he moved from sitting across from me to sitting next to me, pulling me into a hug. I just buried my head against his chest, trying to distract my mind from the sound of George Lewis’s voice, and the images that came flooding back to me. 

“What did he do to you?” Spencer asked. I shook my head.

“He didn’t do anything. It’s just what he said that shook me up.”

He was quiet, clearly waiting for me to continue. I drew in a shaky breath, not moving from his arms as I spoke.

“I… I was trying to get inside his head. I wanted to hear his thought process during the crimes the way that he viewed it, and I knew that using my femininity against him was the best way to do it. I was trying to get him to open up to me because he thought I was attractive…” I trailed off for a moment, the feeling of his hand on my face so real that I almost reached up to smack it away. I fought back the bubble of nausea rising in my stomach as I continued, going into as little detail as possible. “It worked, I guess. What he said was very telling.”

“Babe?” Spencer said after I fell into another lapse of silence. I pulled back to meet his eyes, and the concern in them stopped my heart, “What did he say?”

“...He described exactly what he would do to me if I were one of his victims. In painstaking detail, how he would rape me, torture me, kill me -” My whole body was shaking at this point, and I ducked my head back into his chest, feeling his arms tighten around me. “- I just can’t get his voice out of my head. Can’t get those images out of my head.”

“Reid?” I expected to hear Spencer respond, but instead I heard Hotch. I looked up to see him standing in the aisle, a dark look in his eyes, “Could I talk to you for a moment?”

“I -” He looked between me and Hotch, and I gave him a small smile. 

“Go,” I assured him. I had a feeling that this little meeting was because Hotch had listened to the recording, anyway. 

Spencer reluctantly got up, following Hotch over near the back of the cabin, where he’d set his computer on the counter. I watched as Spencer put the headphones in his ears, pressing play on the recording and listening. I couldn’t see his face, I could only see Hotch’s reaction as the clip went on, but Hotch looked pissed.

I mean, more than his resting pissed face, of course. 

Spencer took the headphones out of his ears after a moment, slowly placing them back on the computer, his body language illustrating a state of shock. He glanced back at me, and I saw a dozen emotions raging across his expression. Of course, there were three that were the strongest.

Anger.

Shock.

And worry.

He immediately crossed the plane back to me, pulling me into a tight hug before moving to sit back down, still keeping me in his arms. He placed a kiss on the top of my head without speaking, one hand splayed on my back to keep me close to him. 

“You listened to the interview?” I phrased it as a question, even though it was more of a statement.

“He never should’ve been allowed to say that stuff to you,” He said. I just shook my head.

“I provoked it. I wanted him to reveal what he was really thinking.”

“It still should never have gotten that far.”

“It worked though.”

“It worked at your expense,” He argued, “You shouldn’t have to do that.”

“I didn’t have to do anything. I chose to.”

“Are you ok?” He asked, the question catching me off guard. He pulled a bit back from the hug, prompting me to look up at him. “I heard the shit he said, baby. Are you ok?”

“I… I’ll be fine. It just really shook me up.”

“You're trembling - you have been since we got on the plane. You’ve been trying to hide it, but I noticed. And I can tell you’re trying not to be sick -"

“... Maybe a better way to phrase it is ‘scared the living shit out of me.’”

He laughed softly, leaning back against the arm of the chair before pulling me close again so I could rest my head against his chest. “That’s closer to what I’ve observed.”

We laid there silently for a moment, his arms wrapped tightly around me, one hand softly tracing indistinct patterns up and down my back as I felt his chest rise and fall against me. George Lewis’s voice echoed inside my mind, and I buried my head deeper into his chest, prompting him to hold me closer. 

I was still shaking, and I wrapped my arms around him, gripping the back of his shirt to try to steady my hands. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead, and continued to run his hands along my back. The gentle motion was comforting as I forced the memories of the interview to the side, allowing myself to drift off into what I prayed would be a dreamless sleep.

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“How is she doing?” Hotch asked. Spencer sighed, looking down at me now asleep in his arms. 

“She was trembling, Hotch - I don’t know if I’ve seen something as simple as an interview affect her this badly before.”

“I know… is there any other reason you can think of that what Lewis said would have such an effect on her?”

He reflected for a moment, biting his lip and looking back down at me with indecision in his eyes. Finally, he looked back up at Hotch. “There could be. But it’s something you might want to talk to her about directly… it’s not really my business to share.”

“Is she in any danger?”

Spencer shook his head. “Just something that happened when she was younger. With her sister.”

Hotch nodded, giving Spencer’s shoulder a squeeze in a gesture of comfort before returning to his seat. Spencer returned to his soft touches around my body, his hands smoothing down my hair as I slept in a cold slumber.

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Revelations (Spencer Reid x fem!MC)

Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON TWO As everything goes down with Tobias Hankel, Aria and the BAU have to find him before it’s too late. Once they do, Aria takes Spencer home and comforts him. 

Content: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Descriptions of torture and violence (all related to Reid’s abduction in season two), swearing, kidnapping and emotional turmoil

MC’s name and pronouns: Aria (are-ee-ah) Glenn, she/her

Word Count: 5024 (it’s a long one folks so buckle up - it ended up being almost ten full pages lmao)

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“Hey,” I looked up from my phone to see Emily standing in the doorway. “Can I sit?”

I gestured to the space on the bed beside me, in the small house that made me nauseous. Thinking about the fact that the bed I was sitting on right now belonged to the man who had kidnapped Spencer made me want to both punch something and throw up. Emily came and sat beside me, turning to face me as I did the same. Her voice was soft when she spoke, studying my face. 

“How are you doing?” She asked. It was a question she already knew the answer to, and I scoffed.

“We’re both profilers, Prentiss. You tell me; how do you think I’m doing?” I snapped. Immediately afterwards, guilt flared through my chest, and I sighed, shaking my head. “I’m sorry. It’s just - well, you know. I don’t think any of us are in a good state of mind right now.”

I dropped my gaze back to my hands, resting in my lap. She took them, directing my attention back to her as she spoke. 

“Glenn. We all care about Reid, and we’re all doing everything we possibly can to get him back. But I know that your relationship with him is… different. You kind of disappeared earlier, I just wanted to check on you.”

“I just couldn’t watch that anymore,” My chest tightened just thinking about the sight of Spencer, tied to a chair, being forced to decide who lives and who dies. He looked so broken -

I forced myself away from that train of thought, taking my hands out of Emily’s to press them to my eyes in an attempt to ward away the tears I felt rising again. 

I’ve cried so much in the past two days I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to again. 

“I understand,” She moved my hands so I’d look into her eyes again. “I just wanted you to know we’re all here for you, ok? We’re all in this together, we’re all worried about him. You’re not alone in what you’re feeling.”

I nodded, and she pulled me into a tight hug, one I returned gratefully. The moment was interrupted by Derek flying into the room, with a statement that made my heart drop. 

“The live feed is back on,” He announced, clearly intending for Emily and I to come with him. I knew that watching the videos was the best way for us to figure out where the hell this guy took Spencer, but the idea of seeing him in that cabin again made me want to throw up. I immediately started to shake my head, a childlike reflex to the statement. 

“No. No, I can’t, I -” I wanted nothing more than to be curled up in his arms right now. 

This all felt like one massive nightmare. I wished I could just wake up, scared before I realized he was safe in his apartment, laying in bed with me. I would turn over and press a quick kiss to his lips, not enough to wake him up but enough that I could appreciate his presence even more after imagining the worst possibility, before burying myself back in the warmth of his embrace…  

“Aria. Hey,” Emily had her hand on my arm, pulling me out of my fantasy. My mind had started to take over, to take me into a daydream that was safer than the turmoil that had become our reality. “I know this is hard. But the more people we have working on this, the better the odds of us finding him are.”

“I hate to say it, but you guys need to hurry. We have no idea how long he’s going to be live.”

I felt like I was going to pass out when I stood up, making my way into the computer room that had become Garcia’s base for the past two days. My attention focused immediately on the screen displaying the live feed of Spencer. Emily was still standing next to me, and she reached out, giving my arm a quick squeeze to make sure I knew she was right there. I nodded my appreciation, but I couldn’t break my eyes away from the video.

He looked exhausted. Exhausted, and in pain, physically and mentally. 

I didn’t know how much more of this he could handle. 

“This ends now.” Charles Hankel’s voice was one I knew would be at the center of my nightmares for years to come; and if that was how I felt, I couldn’t imagine what Spencer was feeling right now. I didn’t think I wanted to. “Confess your sins.”

I dug my nails into my palms, trying to steady my breathing. I could tell Spencer was trying not to cry, and for a moment I thought Charles wasn’t going to do anything before he moved closer to the chair, punching him hard in the face. A sob escaped my lips, and I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying to silence myself as I watched him beat him, over and over, demanding he confess to the sins he hasn’t committed.

I looked around the room, and I knew we were all feeling a very similar set of emotions right now. It’s just a matter of what was the strongest. Garcia was trembling from her seat in front of the computers. Derek looked like he was going to genuinely kill somebody, and JJ looked like she was going to be sick. Hotch and Gideon were watching with nothing but fatherly worry, and even Emily looked like she couldn’t breathe.

“Tobias, help me,” His voice was so quiet we could hardly hear it through the camera speaker, Spencer begging for some kind of rescue. He was crying openly now, and I knew that I was silently doing the same as Charles hit him again before pushing the chair backwards, causing Spencer to fall to the ground. 

At first I thought he’d passed out. But then I noticed him convulsing. 

“Oh my god,” Garcia was the first one to say something, her voice breaking as we watched Spencer gasping for air, unable to do anything but observe from the other side of a screen, “He’s killing him.”

I felt myself starting to spiral again, unable to even speak, wanting so badly to leave but knowing I’d never forgive myself if I did. So I stood there and watched the man I love thrash on the ground while Charles Hankel just stood over him, watching him die without even blinking. It wasn’t until Spencer stopped moving that he spoke. 

“That’s the devil vacating your body.” 

Spencer wasn’t moving.

Spencer Reid was dead. 

He was lying dead on the floor in a cabin in the middle of who-the-fuck knows where and there was absolutely nothing I could do to help him. 

Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. 

“No…” Was all I was able to say. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the image of Spencer’s body on the floor, still tied to that chair, abandoned as Charles Hankel left the room, leaving the camera still rolling. Gideon stormed out of the room - I thought I heard the bathroom door slam - and everyone immediately jumped into action, leaving Garcia and I alone staring at the unchanging computer screen.

“Come on baby, wake up. Please, for the love of god, please wake up.”

It felt like my mind was speedrunning the five stages of grief as I muttered under my breath, begging to a man who couldn’t even hear me. Who had no control over whether he lived or died. 

Garcia hadn’t moved either, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she stared at the screen. I moved over to her, grabbing her hand in mine, both of us trying desperately to comfort each other after the scene we just witnessed, unable to process what happened enough to even speak. After a moment, Hotch came back into the room, opening his mouth to say something to Penelope when something finally changed on the video in front of us. 

Charles Hankel had come back into the room.

Except it wasn’t Charles this time, it was Tobias, running over to Spencer’s body and immediately starting CPR in an attempt to save his life. Hotch called everyone back into the room, all of us gathered around the screen. After what felt like years, we heard it.

Spencer finally coughed. 

He woke up, and I thought I was going to cry from relief. I might’ve actually been crying; honestly I’d spent most of the last two days in a constant state of either crying or about-to-be crying, so it wouldn’t have come as much surprise. Everyone let out varying gasps of relief before getting to work again, deducing that Hankel would have to be within a 17-mile radius of the crime scene to have killed those people and then uploaded the video in the time frame that he did. Hotch was about to leave before we noticed Hankel’s demeanor change yet again as he stood over Spencer, who was still stuck on the floor. 

“You came back to life.” 

“Raphael.” 

“There can be only one of two reasons.”

“I was given CPR.”

“There are no accidents.”

Whatever momentary relief I got from seeing Spencer alive faded the moment Raphael began to ask questions. 

Questions about us. 

“He thinks it’s Revelation,” Hotch stated, concern filling his usually even tone. “The 7 Archangels versus the 7 Angels of Death.”

“Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

My hand flew back up to my mouth as I processed the command, watching Spencer’s face crumble with the realization as well. 

“Kill me.” The words made my heart break, and I found myself desperately fighting the edge of tears, yet again. 

Damn, I really hated having emotions.

“Tell me who dies.”

“No.”

Raphael reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a revolver and pointing it straight at Spencer’s forehead. It was a game of Russian Roulette, and I genuinely thought I might puke from the omnipresent anxiety making my knees weak. 

“I can’t -” I broke, turning away from the screen and into Derek’s arms as he pulled me into a hug. I hated not watching, but it was more than I could bear. It was all I could do just to listen as Spencer denied his request over and over again, each time the click of the trigger bringing him closer and closer to a bullet in the brain. 

“I choose… Aaron Hotchner.”

The sentence made me snap my gaze back to the screen, not breaking the hug but watching attentively as Spencer quoted a Bible verse. Hotch, however, left the room as soon as Spencer had finished speaking, everyone trailing out into the main room after him. 

“Hey, he’s alive. He’s alive,” Derek comforted me as everyone followed Hotch.

It’s truly a sign of how fucked up the situation is when the only comfort is that he hasn’t died yet.

Or at least, not permanently. 

I nodded, and broke the hug, following after everyone who had already found Hotch again. He was holding a Bible, quickly explaining that Spencer misquoted the verse. 

Misquoted the verse on purpose.

We’d found him.

We piled into the cars, my heart racing a mile a minute as we sped down the abandoned country roads, pulling up to an empty plantation, with nothing but trees in sight for miles aside from a small cabin and a cemetery surrounding it. 

We checked the cabin first.

Clear.

It wasn’t until we started making our way across the grounds that we heard it. 

A gunshot. 

“Oh god please don’t let that have been for Reid,” JJ echoed exactly what the rest of us were thinking. We followed the sound, Hotch calling out his name as we ran towards it. Finally, we saw him, hunched over the dying body of Tobias Hankel. 

Hotch took off in a sprint, approaching Spencer first, placing a gentle hand on his arm before Spencer pulled him into a tearful hug. He did the same to JJ, until I finally moved into view. 

He looked like he’d been to hell and back. He could hardly support his own weight, he was sweating, bruised, and there was an open wound on his forehead. But I’d never been happier to see him. 

I wasted no time pulling him into a hug, finally not trying to keep the tears at bay. For a moment, neither of us said anything, we just held each other, both of us crying in the cold night air. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” I finally said, pulling back from the hug to look at his eyes. A small smile came over his face, and I’d never seen anything more beautiful. He was still crying, and I brought my hands up to cup his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks. He was very clearly out of it, and I guided him to put his arm around my shoulders, helping him walk back to the cars, whispering reassurances the entire way there. 

“Wait!” He protested, “I have to do something first.”

He turned back towards Tobias’ body, and I let him go, giving him a moment to do whatever it was he needed as he limped over to the corpse. I turned back to the team, noticing Hotch looking at me with curiosity. Seeing as the only person who knows about Spencer and I’s relationship was Emily, it didn’t really come as a shock that I’d be getting strange looks. But honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

“He’s probably going to need to go to a hospital,” Hotch said. We nodded our agreement, knowing there was an ambulance waiting back at Tobias Hankel’s house. 

Spencer rejoined the group, and I helped him the rest of the way back to the car. I wanted nothing more than to hold him in the backseat, but there wasn’t enough space and I didn’t want to draw more suspicion by asking JJ to move. So I climbed into the front seat next to Derek, who was driving. He shot me a look, and I just shrugged, not confirming or denying anything. 

The drive back felt significantly shorter now that he was safe with us, and when we got back, we followed the ambulance to the hospital. Despite the fact that they definitely didn’t need an 8-person FBI escort to take Spencer into the hospital, Gideon didn’t even ask us whether or not we wanted to go. It was just assumed. 

We’d gathered in the waiting room, everyone waiting to hear the extent of what that monster put him through. I was sitting in the chair closest to the hall, and immediately sprang to my feet when I saw the doctor round the corner. 

“What all did he do to him?” I demanded. 

“He had a pretty nasty gash on his forehead that we had to stitch up,” He started, “And his face is pretty bruised. Same with the bottom of his left foot. It’s a miracle it wasn’t broken.”

We nodded along to him speaking, and he paused for a second before revealing the worst detail.

“We also found a series of needle marks on his right arm. Traces of Dilaudid were still in his system.”

We’d assumed they’d drugged him - he wouldn’t have seized the way he did if they hadn’t, not to mention that JJ found records of Tobias Hankel’s addiction to narcotics - but hearing confirmation made my chest tight. 

“What does that mean for him?” Hotch asked. 

“Well, Dilaudid is addictive. It’s a narcotic painkiller; you’ll want to keep an eye on him in the next couple of weeks and note any strange behaviors you might see him exhibiting.”

We all nodded our understanding, and the doctor wrapped up what he was saying.

“Other than that, he just needs rest. We gave him water and something to eat, so honestly the best thing for him right now is to go home, get a shower and get some sleep. He might have some trouble putting a lot of weight on his right foot, but there’s not really anything we can do for that because it isn’t actually broken, just badly bruised. We’re going to send him home with crutches, but someone might want to stay with him for tonight, if one of you is comfortable with that.”

“I’ll stay with him,” I offered before anyone else could open their mouths. Emily’s eyes snapped to mine, and I cleared my throat, trying not to sound too eager, “If he’s ok with that, of course. I’ll have to ask him.”

The doctor just nodded. “Sounds good. Whoever is in charge here can see the front desk for further information.”

Gideon started towards the front desk, gesturing for Hotch to follow him as they went to talk to some people, leaving me standing in front of Garcia, Morgan, Prentiss, and JJ, all of whom were looking at me with varying looks of suspicion. Except Emily, who just looked vaguely amused.

“Anything you want to talk to us about, Glenn?” JJ asked. 

“Nothing at all,” I denied, trying to fight the small smile on my face. I could tell just by looking at them that they all knew, at this point it was hard not to at least assume. Not to mention they were all experts in human behavior - let’s just say it was hard to hide things from them. But JJ just shook her head with a shallow laugh, returning to her seat. However, she quickly stood back up when Spencer came around the corner, supporting his weight with a pair of plain gray crutches. 

“Spence,” She immediately crossed the room to him, looking him over with concern, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” He offered her a small smile, but it wasn’t real. We all knew it, and she pulled

him into a hug, being careful not to make him fall. 

“I should’ve never let you go off on your own. I’m so sorry -” She started to apologize, but he cut her off. 

“JJ, stop. It’s not your fault; splitting up was my idea. No one had any way of knowing what was going to happen. I mean, there was a 50-50 shot that either of us could’ve run into him, we had no evidence he’d even left the barn at all.”

She let out a shaky breath, nodding. “I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“Me too.”

“We’re going to go back to the BAU so everyone can get their cars.”

He nodded his understanding, and he gave everyone a hug before Hotch and Gideon came back from the front desk. As much as he tried to appear normal, the events of the past two days hung heavy in the air. And we only knew what we saw on the videos, we had no idea the extent of what he’d gone through. I don’t know if we ever would. 

Even just the fact that he was hugging people was a testament to the way he was feeling. He usually didn’t even like to shake hands, but he was clinging to our friends like they were the only thing keeping him grounded. 

Hotch and Gideon rounded the corner, Hotch’s face softening the moment he saw Spencer, pulling him into another hug. 

“Alright, let’s get back to the BAU so you can go home and get some rest,” Gideon said. Spencer nodded, all of us piling back into the two vans we’d taken to Tobias Hankel’s house. JJ shot me a look before climbing into the passenger seat, allowing me to take her place in the back with Spencer, sitting shoulder to shoulder in the car. Once we started driving, I turned and whispered to him. 

“I wanted to come back home with you. Is that ok?” I asked. He gave me a small nod, and I smiled, giving his arm a squeeze. I desperately wanted to press a soft kiss to his lips, but I had already been way too physically affectionate with him today for us being at work. 

We all went our separate ways, though it was clear that everyone was reluctant to let Spencer out of their sight again. I reminded them I’d be with him, and promised that I’d update them once he fell asleep so they knew everyone was ok. It might’ve been selfish of me, but I was excited to be alone with him. I just wanted to be able to comfort him without having to worry about if everyone thought we were dating. 

To be fair, we technically weren’t dating. We’d never really defined the relationship.

We elected to take my car, since I was going to be driving. The more time we spent away from the group, the more I saw Spencer retreating. We walked to the car in silence, and he climbed in the passenger seat, zoning out staring through the windshield.

I reached over and gave his hand a light squeeze.

“I love you babe. Don’t know what I’d do without you,” I told him. He didn’t move his gaze, just squeezed my hand back in response before allowing me to return both hands to the wheel. We drove the rest of the way home with no sound but the radio turned down to a low volume. When I finally pulled into the parking lot for his apartment complex, he didn’t even blink. I turned the car off, going around to the other side to help him out of the car and into his apartment.

“Do you want me to get you something to eat? Or some water?” I offered as I unlocked the front door. He just shook his head.

“I just want to go to sleep.”

“You need to shower, Spencer.”

He nodded again, allowing me to lead him to the bathroom. 

“Do you think you can stand? Or do you want me to draw you a bath?” I asked. 

“Bath would be better,” He said, propping his crutches up against the sink. I knew he hadn’t broken his foot, but he still winced as he put more of his weight on it so that he could pull off his sweater and begin to unbutton the shirt he had on underneath it. 

“You’re ok with me being in here?” I had assumed he would be, but I wanted to clarify as he finished unbuttoning his shirt, slipping it off. He just nodded, starting to undo his pants as I filled the bath with warm water. I shut the water off when it was filled enough that he could sit comfortably in it, and I held his arm, helping him sink into the warm water. 

“Do you want my help babe?” I asked. He nodded again, still not speaking. I didn’t try to press him with any conversation, I just slipped out of my work clothes and slid into the bath next to him, grabbing the washcloth from the side of the bathtub and dipping it in the warm water, lathering up the soap and starting to gently wash along his shoulders, scrubbing away the dirt and grime. He winced when I got to his wrists, and I noticed that the skin was rubbed raw, red from where he’d been restrained. I drew in a shaky breath, unsure of whether or not I was going to cry or punch someone. Instead, I just planted a soft kiss on his lips before washing down the rest of his body. 

I put the washcloth away and moved on to his hair, moving so that my chest was pressed to his back. I lathered the shampoo through his hair, and he sunk back against me, his eyes closing from the gentle touch. 

“You’re safe with me, baby. I’ve got you,” I whispered reassurances in his ear, trying to help him relax as I finished cleaning him up. “How’s your head?”

My eyes had flashed up to the bandaged gash on his forehead, and I reached one hand up to gently brush his hair back away from it. He had opened his eyes now, just staring at the water, not really here. His voice was barely above a whisper, and it broke my heart. 

“It hurts,” He murmured.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” I said, holding him closer to me as if it could somehow soothe his pain, both physically and mentally. “I am so, so sorry that this happened to you. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

“Didn’t I?”

The question took me by surprise, and I didn’t even have a chance to protest before he elaborated.

“I abandoned my mother. I could’ve helped her - I mean, I could’ve learned to help her. Instead I sent her away… he told me to confess my sins. And when I thought of my sins, all I could see was her face. I left her, Aria.”

“Spencer. Look at me.” I lightly put my hand under his chin, guiding him to meet my eyes. “Your mother needed help from a medical professional, someone who was specialized in understanding her condition. You didn’t abandon her - Spencer, you helped her. It’s not a sin to get someone the help that they need.”

“I know that. Logically, I know that. But…”

He trailed off, but he didn’t need to say anymore. I just nodded.

“I know, baby. But you didn’t deserve what Hankel did to you. You’re a good person, Spencer Reid. One of the best I know, and I’m not just saying that because I’m in love with you. You really are an incredible man, and,” I bit my lip, forcing back the tears that were stinging my eyes, “And you deserved so much better than this.”

He didn’t reply, he just leaned forward, kissing me again. It was harder this time, like he was putting all his feelings into moving his lips against mine. I kissed him back with just as much emotion, trying to tell him how much I loved him without saying anything at all. 

“Thank you,” He whispered, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close to me for a moment.

“Spencer, you have no idea how grateful I am for you.”

“And I for you,” He replied semi-dramatically, making me grin and bringing a small smile to his face. It wasn’t much, but it was something positive. 

“Alright Shakespeare, let me get dried off and then I’ll help you out,” I teased, grabbing my towel off the hook and drying my damp hair before wrapping it around myself and grabbing his hand, helping him up and guiding him to lean up against the sink while I grabbed his towel and offered it to him. 

“I don’t even have the energy to correct the historical inaccuracy of your Shakespeare joke,” He said, drying himself off as I left the bathroom to grab pajamas from his dresser. I grabbed him one of his t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants, and I grabbed myself one of his sweaters, slipping it on before going back into the bathroom and giving him the clothes I’d grabbed, hanging my towel back up as he changed.

When I turned back, he’d put on the pajamas, and was in the process of grabbing his crutches. With every move, his expression changed, betraying just how much pain he was in. I put my hand on his shoulder, supporting him as he made his way back out to his room, immediately sitting down on the bed and letting the crutches fall to the ground. 

“Son of a bitch,” He muttered. I just sat down next to him, putting my arm around him so he could lean his head on my shoulder. 

“Hey. You’re alright,” I held him close to me, rubbing his shoulder in a slight comfort. 

“I’m tired,” He yawned, and I nodded. 

He stretched out on the bed behind me, and I scooted over next to him, pulling the comforter over both of us. 

“Can I hold you, baby?” I asked. He nodded, and I curled up against him, holding him tight to my chest. I tucked my head into the crook of his neck from behind, feeling his steady breathing against me. 

It didn’t really surprise me when I felt his breathing pick up - I assumed his mind would probably wander once he had quiet time to think - but it made my heart wrench when I heard him crying softly. 

“Spencer…” I pulled him closer to me, running one hand through his hair and placing soft kisses along his jawline, trailing down his neck. There was nothing sexual about it, simply gentle affection as he cried. 

He rolled over suddenly so he was facing me, immediately crushing me in a tight hug, crying openly into my shoulder. I continued to run one of my hands through his hair, the other gently tracing slow circles on his back under his shirt, trying to ground him as he attempted to process everything he’d gone through. 

“You’re safe with me baby. I’m never letting anything happen to you again, I promise.”

“You can’t make a promise like that,” He argued through his tears, “No one can make a promise like that. You know our line of work; there’s no way you can ensure my safety.”

“That’s true,” I conceded, “But as long as I have any say in it, I will protect you. And that’s a promise.”

His crying had quieted, and he sniffled, nodding into my shoulder. I kept him close to me, and eventually he drifted off to sleep, tears still staining his face. 

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Blankets (Spencer Reid x fem!MC)

Summary: After her first case, Aria struggles to keep a level head on the plane ride home. Spencer and the rest of the team comfort her, helping her realize she’s not alone (and also providing an adorable first meeting with our lovely Dr. Reid).

Content: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Negative self-talk and talk of insecurities (weakness), borderline panic attack

MC’s name and pronouns: Aria (are-ee-ah), she/her

Word Count: 1317

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I stepped onto the jet, my hands already shaking. I just had to keep it together until I got home. When I got home, I could break down. I could not break down in front of the whole team after the first case. 

I sat down in a seat in the very corner of the plane, closest to the window so that I could hopefully stay out of view of everyone as I tried to calm myself down. My breathing was becoming more and more rapid, and I was going into full-blown panic mode. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes to ward away tears, forcing myself to take deep, steady breaths. 

All I knew was that I could not lose it on this plane. 

I could not lose it on this plane.

I could not -

“Aria? Are you ok?” I whipped my head to the side, seeing Garcia standing in the aisle, concern coloring her usually chipper expression. 

“I’m fine,” I tried to make my voice sound normal, but it wavered. She immediately sat down in front of me, grabbing my hands. 

“Are you sure you’re fine?”

I couldn’t help it. 

I broke. 

Hot tears spilled out of my eyes before I could stop them, and I pressed a hand over my mouth to try and keep myself quiet. 

“No - I just - I just need to get home. I just need to get home,” I kept repeating it, moving my hand so I could suck in deep breaths. It wasn’t long before the rest of the team had heard what was happening, gathering around the section of seats we were in in an attempt to help, but really just doing exactly what I feared.

I didn’t want them to see me like this. Broken, after my first actual case.

I expected some kind of ridicule.

Anger.

To be fired.

Instead, I felt Emily slip into the seat next to me and put a hand on my shoulder. 

“Hey. Hey, you’re ok, just breathe. Deep breaths, ok? In through your nose, out through your mouth.” She started doing breathing exercises, and I tried my best to follow her, even over the erratic thoughts rapidly firing through my mind. 

“I’m sorry - I was trying to wait until we got off the plane, I’m sorry -” I apologized through my tears. Garcia just shook her head adamantly from the seat across from me. 

“No no you cannot apologize for this. This was your first time in the field, you’ve been through a lot today, it’s natural that you’re going to react the way you are.”

“But it’s the first case - I didn’t want to -”

“Aria, stop.”

“I’m not weak,” I didn’t know where it came from, it just slipped out. I don’t even think I’d realized that was why I didn’t want to cry in front of them. But it was out, and there was no taking it back.

“Oh,” Garcia’s expression was a mixture of surprise and sorrow as she pulled me into a hug, holding me even as I just sat there, desperately forcing myself to stop crying, “Nobody thinks that you’re weak. If you stop reacting to this kind of stuff, you lose a part of who you are. You’re not weak - you’re human.”

I sniffled, still trying to quiet my tears as the rest of the team dispersed, Emily and Penelope staying by my side. After a moment, though, a familiar face returned, holding a folded blanket in one hand. 

“Could I talk to her for a minute?” Spencer asked, and the girls nodded, leaving us alone as he took the seat across from mine. He observed me for a moment before seemingly remembering what he was doing, holding out the blanket to me. I shook my head in denial, pressing my hands against my eyes again to fight back whatever remaining tears were trying to sneak their way out. 

“I’m fine. Really, I’ll be fine. I just have to calm down.” I tried to make excuses to him, unable to see his reaction with my hands over my eyes. Despite what Garcia said, I was still under the impression that they were going to punish me for breaking down. I was new, and expendable. It wouldn’t surprise me if we got back to the BAU and Hotch decided I wasn’t cut out for this career, that I should find something else to do with that degree in journalism that has nothing to do with criminal profiling.

My excuses weren’t met with any sort of response, so I didn’t realize Spencer was still there until I felt a light weight on my shoulders. My eyes flew open, reaching over to my shoulder and seeing that he’d draped the soft blanket over me. Even if my mind fought against it, I grabbed the corners, wrapping it tighter around me and drawing a small smile to Spencer’s face as he returned to the seat across from mine. 

“Aria, do you know why we have this blanket on the plane?” He asked suddenly. I didn’t answer verbally, just shook my head in confusion. “Do you know how many times one of us has broken down over a case? Sometimes they want comfort from someone else. And sometimes, everyone could just use a good, soft blanket to cry with.”

I wasn’t even sure if I’d heard him right. “So you mean to tell me that the BAU has… a cry blanket?”

He laughed outright at the name for it, but he nodded. “Mentally, crying is healthy. If you force everything down, you’ve got no way of processing your emotions. And you’re not going to last long in this job if you don’t process your emotions. Actually, scientifically, the amount of mental strain that this kind of job puts on the people working it is - never mind. I’m rambling.” He cut himself off quickly, staring at the ground. I pulled the blanket a bit tighter around me, offering him a small smile as he glanced back up at me.

“Thank you, Dr. Reid.”

He smiled, nodding resolutely. “I’m glad I could help. And please, you’re a part of this team now. At least call me Reid. Or Spencer. Whatever you want; I know everyone calls me Reid, except JJ, she’s the only person that calls me Spence, which is kinda funny because -”

I was smiling now as I watched him talk, hands gesturing wildly and eyes lit up as he went on about some obscure research related to nicknames that I had never even heard of before. His entire body seemed to be engaged when he was talking about something he was interested in; he was incredibly expressive and emphatic, and I had no idea why I found it so adorable. 

I hardly even noticed when he had stopped speaking, looking at me with a strange expression on his face. 

“Why are you smiling at me like that?” He asked. I just shook my head.

“No reason,” I brushed his comment off quickly, a blush creeping up the back of my neck that I was praying he didn’t notice. Luckily for me, he just shrugged.

“Is there anything else you need? Water, tea, coffee?”

“I think I’m good. Thank you again, Dr.… Spencer,” I corrected. He grinned at me, offering me a nod before returning to his seat. I watched him go, a warm feeling in my chest. 

I curled up in the seat, both knees to my chest, resting against the plane window and watching the clouds around us. I had begun to feel a bit better, and despite the fact that I knew my sleep was undoubtedly going to be plagued by nightmares, the blanket around my body served as a comforting reminder.

I was a part of this team.

I glanced over at Spencer, sitting next to Morgan in the group of chairs across from me, and I smiled. 

I was a part of this team, and I was not alone. 

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Inside Scoop (Chapter One)

Chapter One - The Greatest Regret of my Life

Previous Chapter < - > Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: Dahlia Silvers is on her way to work when she makes a horrifying discovery that will change her life... and lead to her getting tangled up with the Behavioral Analysis Unit.

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of corpse (violent death), police interactions (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2417

A/N: Yay new story!! Ok, two quick things I need to mention before we get into it: one, I have absolutely no clue about the roads in DC and I merely listed two ones that I knew were on a corner. And two: I also have no clue where the Washington Post office is, and am not trying to make any claims about the company in any way, it’s just a reputable news place in DC so I wanted to use it for the story (please don’t sue me Jeff Bezos). Ok that’s all - hope you enjoy!! :)

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It was raining.

I knew we were supposed to get a short shower this morning, but I still groaned as I walked out into the disgusting downpour bombarding the streets of DC.

The only positive thing about days like this was the lack of people on the sidewalk. Generally everyone was dashing to the subway before they could get too soaked, but I only lived a few blocks from work. So I elected to walk.

Usually, that was fine. I had my umbrella, and I got into the office in about fifteen minutes, give or take a few. After that I got my writing assignments for that day within ten, and I got to work.

Usually.

The smell hit me first. Initially, I thought it was just rotten fruit, or something similar that someone had thrown out, but the closer I got the more it smelled rancid, impossible to describe.

The next thing I noticed was the bag.

The woman’s purse had been thrown from her hand. Or maybe it had fallen, I had no way of knowing. All I knew was that I saw it sitting on the sidewalk at the mouth of the alleyway I was about to walk past.

One of the greatest regrets of my life was picking up that purse.

Because when I picked it up, I had to turn and see who it belonged to. And that’s when I saw her.

I wasn’t sure how long the blood had been pooled around her body, but it was dried on the concrete. Her head was twisted at an unnatural angle, revealing the deep slash wound across her throat. Her hands were bloodied, and I had no way of knowing if it was her blood or someone else’s. All I knew was that this woman was dead, and there was no way in hell it was due to natural causes.

The combination of the sight in front of me and the smell of decay permeating the air sent a wave of nausea through my body, and my eyes watered as I turned away, vomiting on the sidewalk not far from where the woman laid. I fumbled to pull my phone out of my pocket, my hands shaking as I dialed 911.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“Someone’s dead. It’s a woman, she - I was on my way to work, and I just found her - holy shit…”

“Ok ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down please, everything will be ok. Can you tell us where you are right now?”

“Yeah, yes,” I forced myself to breathe, stepping out to the edge of the sidewalk in an attempt to read the street sign in front of me. “Right by the corner of 9th and G Street NW. There’s an alley a few feet away from the intersection. She’s…” I turned back to the woman’s body for a moment before forcing my eyes away again. “I don’t know what happened. It looks bad, I -”

“It’s ok ma’am. What is your name?”

“Dahlia. Dahlia Silvers.”

“Ok Dahlia. Is there anyone else with you? Or around you?”

I scanned my surroundings before responding shakily, “No.”

“Is the woman alive?”

“No.” I don’t know of anybody who could survive their throat being slashed.

“Ok. A team is on their way, but I need you to stay calm for me, ok?”

I nodded, despite the fact that she couldn’t see me. “Alright.”

“Good. Can you stay on the scene so that investigators can speak with you when they arrive?”

My first thought was that I was going to be late for work. It’s actually kind of funny, in retrospect, how unimportant that is compared to the discovery I just made. But the thought was still there.

“I think this would be a valid reason to call in sick.” I replied. The woman on the other end of the phone laughed lightly.

“Yes, I think it would. Would you like me to stay on the phone with you until the team arrives?”

“No, I’m just… I’m going to walk away a bit? Is that ok? I can’t… I mean, I’ve seen pictures and videos of stuff like this, but I didn’t think it would be so -”

“As long as you’re nearby, everything should be fine. It’s understandable that you would need to move away from the body.”

“Ok. Ok,” I took in another deep breath, “I’m ok.”

“A team should be there in a couple of minutes.”

The line went dead, and I sunk down against the wall of the building by the alley, far enough away that the smell of death couldn’t follow me. I felt like it was in my clothes, in my hair; for a second I thought I was going to throw up again, and I put my head in my hands, forcing myself to breathe until the investigators arrived on the scene. I had half a mind to realize that it wasn’t raining anymore, but I couldn’t be bothered to figure out where I’d dropped my umbrella. My clothes were sticking to my skin, and everything on my body felt viscerally wrong.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen images of dead people before; I was a young adult, and I liked movies. Obviously I was used to gore. But the stench… nothing could’ve prepared me for that.

I was surprised at the sheer number of people that showed up: I mean, there was a CSI van, which I expected, but a black car pulled up behind them, as well as two city police cars. Immediately, the CSI team got to work, and the rest of the people began piling out of their cars. The first person to take notice of me was one of the police officers, and he immediately made a beeline for where I was sitting on the sidewalk.

“Are you Dahlia Silvers? The woman who called in the body?” He asked. I nodded, and he held out his hand to me, helping me up on unsteady feet.

“Thank you.”

“‘Course. Now, I’d like to ask you a few questions if that’s ok?”

I nodded again, and he began a surprisingly long tirade of questions. Why was I passing by, where was I going, did I walk this street every day, what did I see first, did I touch anything on the scene, did I know the woman, had I seen anyone else - everything I should’ve expected but didn’t even think about in the wake of everything I’d just witnessed.

I answered accordingly: work, work, yes, the purse, the purse, no, no - I mentioned that the vomit was mine, and that I’d picked the purse up with the intent to return it to whoever dropped it. I mentioned that the first thing I picked up on was the smell, and that I had no idea what happened. Only that my day was perfectly normal, and then -

“Excuse me, officer?” A new voice cut into our conversation, a woman. I turned to look at her, noticing the FBI logo on her jacket immediately. “I’d like to speak with Ms. Silvers for a moment, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course Agent,” He nodded, rejoining the larger group that we were standing a bit away from. I knew he was still watching me, but I couldn’t be bothered to worry about my status on this case’s suspect list right now. I was still trying to process the fact that there was a fucking dead body about five feet away from me.

“Dahlia Silvers?” She asked, as if she didn’t already know. I nodded, and she smiled, introducing herself as well.

“I’m Special Agent Prentiss, I’m with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit.”

Immediately my brow furrowed with confusion. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Well, we study -”

“No, I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer: I know what the BAU does. What is the BAU doing here, in DC?”

“We’re investigating a string of recent murders, and we believe that this one is most likely connected to the case.”

“... If there have been enough murders here that your team needed to come down, why aren’t any of the news stations covering it? I haven’t heard anything about this.”

“We’ve put a block on most of the press until we can gain a better understanding of the situation. I understand why you might feel betrayed by the media -”

“It’s not like that at all,” I rushed to correct her, not realizing I’d cut her off again, “I’m a journalist. I work for The Washington Post. Our office is like three blocks away, that’s where I was headed when - when I saw her.”

The woman nodded, a sympathetic expression on her face. “I’m sorry that you had to see all of this.”

“Thank you,” I gave her a small smile. I did appreciate it, but honestly, I’d recovered from the sight pretty quickly. I’d started working in crime journalism recently, and that came with it’s fair share of gruesome images and stories of tragedy flooding my computer. Hence the reason why my lack of knowledge on these murders was a concern. “I’m just confused as to why I didn’t hear about the murders, while working for a news site. It would make sense for a few stories to slip through, or for our CEO to announce something to us writers - how the hell did you manage a full media block?”

She laughed a bit at my bluntness, but said, “We got here very shortly after the first murder. We were able to restrict almost all stories about the event immediately.”

“Almost all? No, you guys got all of them - I have a keyword filter set up on Google to email me whenever a seemingly newsworthy event happens in the surrounding area, and I feel like ‘local murder’ would definitely count as newsworthy.”

“That’s… surprising, but it makes sense. Never underestimate the power of Jennifer Jareau - that’s our press liaison, she handles -”

“Oh yeah, I know her! I’ve spoken with her a few times when you guys have had cases in DC.”

“Right! Yeah, she’s great…” She got a sort of far-off look in her eye for a moment before she cleared her throat, “But that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about. I know that you spoke with the local police already, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to return to the station with us so we could interview you a bit further - you’re not under arrest, you’d be free to go at any time, we just have a couple more questions.”

I was hesitant, but at the same time, there was an itch in the back of my mind. An itch to know more. If this was a chance for me to find out what’s been going on, no way in hell I’m saying no to that.

Plus, if I did say no, that would be incredibly suspicious.

So I nodded, allowing Agent Prentiss to lead me back to the black vehicle that arrived with the slew of police cars. She opened the passenger door for me before shouting to someone who I’m assuming was one of her coworkers.

“Reid! Stay here and investigate the scene - I’m going to escort Ms. Silvers back to the station, and I’ll be back to pick you up.”

I heard a faint response before she shut the passenger door, climbing around to the other side and allowing me a glimpse of whoever she was talking to.

He was standing on the pavement, still looking at the car, nodding as I’m assuming Agent Prentiss said something else to him. The blue sweater he had on over his button up presented an interesting contrast between the pantsuit I’d seen Prentiss wearing, and the ridiculous query of the nature of the BAU’s uniforms crossed my mind before I turned my attention back to the matter at hand.

The matter at hand being, of course, discreetly staring at the man in front of me.

His curly hair rested almost at his shoulders, and I was mesmerized as I watched him speak, one hand flying and the other holding onto a thin wooden cane. Finally, he nodded definitively before turning back to the crime scene, and my eyes snapped to the driver’s side door as I heard Agent Prentiss slide into the seat next to me.

“Oh please, don’t let me interrupt your staring at Dr. Reid,” She held up her hands in mock defense, trying to keep herself from laughing, “I’m merely the driver.”

“Sta - what, I wasn’t staring, I -” I immediately started to defend myself (even if I totally was staring at Dr. Reid), but Agent Prentiss laughed again.

“Relax, Ms. Silvers. I’m only teasing. He is quite a good-looking man, isn’t he? Not my type, but I’m not blind.”

I blushed, acknowledging her statement with a nod as she put the car in drive, pulling away from the curb. As we started down the road, the full weight of the events that just occurred finally hit me.

I found a corpse.

I was on my way to a police station.

I might be the main suspect in an ongoing murder case. I hadn’t actually asked about that yet.

It was almost as if Prentiss had noticed the shift in my mood - honestly, there’s a chance she actually had, she was a profiler - because she broke the silence with a question.

“Ms. Silvers? How are you feeling?” She asked. I just shook my head.

“Please, call me Dahlia. And honestly, I have no idea how I’m feeling. I… well, I’m sure I don’t need to say that nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

“I’d be surprised to hear you say it had,” She laughed. I laughed a bit too, though I couldn’t ignore the anxiety eating at me.

“I’m pretty sure I haven’t processed it yet,” I said honestly.

“You’ve gone through a lot in the last hour,” She agreed, “And I hate to say it, but you’re going to have to go through a little bit more. We’re here.”

We pulled into the police station, and she put the car in park, hoping out. I followed suit, and we both headed up the walkway to the front doors.

I was practically trembling with nerves, but at the same time, excitement coursed through my veins at what I might learn.

The BAU might’ve put a blockade on the media from the outside, but I was getting the inside scoop.

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Inside Scoop (Chapter Two)

Chapter Two - Someone Wants To Kill Me

Previous Chapter < - > Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: After being taken into the police station for further questioning, Hotch reveals some shocking information about the case. 

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, minor panic attack, descriptions of case-related violence (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2563

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Today was full of firsts for me.

For example: I never imagined that I would be awaiting an FBI agent to come interview me in a police interrogation room.

I was saved from my inevitable breakdown by Agent Hotchner entering, swinging the door shut behind him.

“Dahlia Silvers, I presume?” He asked.

It was a bit of a ridiculous question, but I nodded anyway. He took a seat in front of me, his hands clasped together on the table.

“You know you’re here by your own free will, and you’re free to leave at any time, correct?”

I nodded, unable to process what was going on well enough to speak.

“Alright. Why don’t you start from the beginning: what did you see?”

I sucked in a deep breath before speaking, telling Hotch pretty much the same thing that I told the police officer who’d asked me at the crime scene. He listened attentively the entire time, not speaking until I sat back in my chair, finished.

“Ok. So you didn’t see anybody else in the area?” He asked. I shook my head.

“It was raining, the streets were empty. I’m sure I saw some cars drive by, but I can’t remember off the top of my head anyone looking suspicious.”

“Alright. I wanted to walk you through something called a ‘cognitive interview.’ It’s essentially a mental exercise that’ll take you back to the scene of the crime, and allow you to notice things that you might not remember.”

I’d heard of this before, but I’d never done one. Honestly, I was curious to know what it was, so I nodded. He encouraged me to think back to the event, allowing me to get into that headspace before he began asking questions.

“So, the first thing you saw was the purse, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Ok - do you see the woman’s body?”

Mentally, I turned to look down the alley, seeing the gruesome scene I’d witnessed only an hour ago.

“Yes.”

“Ok. Now, I need you to look around the area. Do you see any cameras?”

“Cameras?”

“Yes. Possibly security cameras on the walls, or something more discreet, like a camera in one of the nearby windows.”

I was confused, but I looked around, seeing nothing like what he described.

“No, I don’t see any cameras.”

“Ok. How about the street? Look at the cars driving by. Are any of them driving slower than the rest, or do any of them look suspicious in any way?”

I looked towards the street, taking note of the cars that I saw. For a second, I was about to say no, before I noticed a black SUV driving down the street significantly slower than the rest of the passing cars.

“Wait - yeah, there’s a SUV. It’s black, it’s in the lane nearest to me and driving way slower than the speed limit; maybe they wanted to stop and help?”

“Did you see the license plate on the car?”

I focused on the memory, but when I tried to see any details, it was just blurry. “No, I can’t tell. I guess I didn’t really notice it earlier.”

“Ok. You can open your eyes now.”

I did so, momentarily blinded by the fluorescent lights of the interrogation room. When my eyes adjusted, Hotch was looking at me with a grim expression.

“So, why’d you want to know the car license plate?”

He sighed, contemplating something for a moment before he spoke.

“Since the first murder, we’ve been able to pick up on the unsub’s pattern.”

“Wait, that’s good, right? It means it’ll be easier to catch them?”

“It should. Whoever is doing this, though… they’re good. They’ve managed to commit three murders without leaving any trace at all.”

“What’s their pattern? If you don’t mind me asking.”

I had relaxed a bit after the interview, knowing that I wasn’t in here as anything but a witness.

That relaxation ended after I heard what he had to say, though.

“The pattern we’ve noticed is related to who they kill. Dahlia… they’re targeting the people who discover their crime scenes.”

For a second, I thought I might’ve misheard him.

“What?” I stuttered out, too in shock to process what he’d said.

“Every time after the first, the victim was the person who’d discovered the crime scene.

You’re the first person to call it in, actually. That’s why we didn’t figure it out until just now… Prentiss called me when they arrived, confirming that the most recent victim was the woman that discovered the last crime scene - Kate Johnson. She didn’t call it in, but her friend came in last night to inform us that Kate had told her what she witnessed. Her friend thought she should tell us, but Kate refused. So she came herself.”

Now I was the one listening with rapt attention, desperate for more information. He continued, explaining what they’d done in the last twenty-four hours.

“When her friend came in, we rushed to find Kate, but she’d already disappeared. We had no idea where she was taken, but… well, I guess it doesn’t matter now. The second victim - the man who discovered the first crime scene - was a homeless man, and people who knew him said he didn’t report it because we might’ve thought it was him. So we had our suspicions on the pattern, but they were confirmed with this most recent murder. Which is why I had Prentiss bring you in.”

My hands were shaking, my brain still trying to process everything he’d told me.

“Why - so why did Agent Prentiss say you guys had other questions for me, then? Why didn’t she just tell me the truth?”

“Well, to be honest, we weren’t sure how you’d react. We wanted to tell you in a controlled setting, not when you were standing right next to a crime scene. Plus, we did have more questions for you.”

“I… fuck.”

I knew I probably shouldn’t swear in front of an FBI agent - professionalism, or something - but the weight of the information I’d learned had finally hit me. I didn’t know what else to do. I put my head in my hands, trying to steady my racing heart and force back the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.

“I understand this has to be shocking - do you want me to give you a minute?” Hotch asked. I shook my head, raising it only after I was sure my emotions were in check.

“No, no, it’s ok. Just… what am I supposed to do now?”

“Well, we thought the best thing for your safety would be for you to stay here until the unsub is apprehended. We’re hoping that by taking away his target, he’s not going to know what to do, and he’ll slip up.”

“You want me to stay here? At the police station?”

“They have an empty office, and there’s a couch, or space to blow up an inflatable bed if you have one. We know it’s not an ideal, and obviously we’re not going to force you to do anything, but we do believe it’s the best way to ensure you’re completely protected. We could send someone to watch your house, but there are a lot more variables in terms of the unsub breaking in, or situations of that nature.”

I nodded my understanding, knowing that he was right. “Ok. Ok - holy shit - would I be able to go get stuff from my apartment?”

“Of course. We’ll have to send someone with you though; as long as she’s not doing anything, I can have Prentiss escort you, since you two have already become acquainted.”

“That’s fine,” I agreed, “How long do you think I’ll have to stay?”

I was scared to hear the answer, and his sigh wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“We’re really not sure. Hopefully not long, but it all depends on the unsub’s next move. It’s all a waiting game at this point.”

My hands were definitely shaking now, and I nodded again, balling them into fists to try and keep them still. Hotch looked sympathetic, albeit deeply uncomfortable. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t really an emotional guy.

“I have a cat,” I mentioned. I figured I knew the answer to my next question, but I asked it anyway, “I’m assuming I can’t bring her here?”

“Unfortunately, I doubt it.”

I nodded, not expecting him to say yes, but figuring I should at least try. “I’ll get one of my friends to watch her.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” He cleared his throat awkwardly before going, “I’m sorry about all of this. But it really is the best way to protect you.”

“I understand. And I really appreciate what you guys are doing,” My voice sounded small, and I knew that I was on the cusp of a complete breakdown, “Can I go now?”

So far, this had definitely taken the cake for the worst day of my entire life.

“Yes; I’ll tell Prentiss to meet you at the front desk.”

I left the room, mind racing. Making my way to the front desk, I plopped down on a nearby bench and tried to force myself to stay calm.

“Dahlia Silvers?” A voice asked. I looked up, expecting to see Agent Prentiss, but instead I saw a man standing above me.

That man was none other than the same Dr. Reid that I was staring at earlier.

“Oh - yes, hi. Sorry, I was expecting to see Agent Prentiss,” I explained my surprise. He gave me a small half smile, gesturing to the seat next to me. I nodded for him to sit down, knowing there was no chance of getting my heart rate back down to normal now.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, but you can just call me Reid. Or Spencer. Either one, I -” He faltered, clearly trying to get his thoughts in order before speaking again, “Sorry. I just figured that I should introduce myself, given that we’ll likely be seeing more of each other now that you… I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t -”

“No, it’s fine; honestly, I don’t think I’ve processed it yet. I’m supposed to be going with Agent Prentiss to pick up my stuff, and I still have no idea how long I should be packing for.”

He nodded again, “I’m really sorry that you got wrapped up in all of this - you were on your way to work, right? Journalism?”

“Yeah, I work for The Washington Post, I’m a writer.”

“Cool. That’s cool - have you written anything that’s been printed?”

I thought about it for a second, “I’m not completely sure, most of my stuff is published online. I’ve dipped into crime journalism recently though, and I’m pretty sure that my article on Maria Coursetta - she’d been missing for a year up until a month ago, when her body turned up in a river about twenty miles from her home - was published in the print edition of the paper. Why, do you not read online news?”

“Reid is a bit of a technophobe,” Emily Prentiss rounded the corner, smiling as Spencer glared at her.

“Really? Man, we definitely don’t have that in common; I practically live on my phone,” I joked.

“There’s not much to do on my phone,” He said, and I cackled when he pulled out an old Blackberry from his pocket.

“Oh my god, how old is that thing?”

He was laughing along with me when he answered, “Like, ten years, I think? I got it during like, my first year with the BAU, and it’s been working since then.”

“You must take incredible care of your belongings.”

“I try.”

“Speaking of belongings - Dahlia?” Emily spoke from over Spencer’s shoulder, and I nodded, remembering what I was supposed to be doing.

“Right. Well, it was nice to meet you, Spencer - hopefully I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah!” He grinned, and I forced myself to ignore the way my heart fluttered. He took his leave, disappearing into a nearby conference room, and I stood up, following Emily outside.

“Here,” She handed me her phone, with a GPS open, “You can just put your address in there, if you’re ok with it.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” I took it, typing my address in and handing it back to her.

We were crossing the parking lot to the car we’d came here in when I noticed a familiar car drive by.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my gaze following the black SUV that had just grabbed my attention. I don’t think Emily saw me stop, because she kept walking towards the car, but I was transfixed, trying to figure out any little detail that could tell me if it was the same car I saw earlier or not.

Because it’s not like a black SUV was an uncommon car. But in one of the SUV’s in this city, there’s a person who wants to kill me.

Holy shit, someone wants to kill me.

Suddenly all I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears, my breath faltering as the reality of the situation finally set in.

Someone wants to kill me.

White hot fear drove through my body, forcing goosebumps up and down my arms. I tried to continue walking towards the car, but I couldn’t move.

“Dahlia?” Emily had turned around now. I felt her hand on my shoulder, but her voice sounded distant. I was brutally aware of the tears stinging my eyes, and I tried to force them back, tried to keep my composure, but it was useless.

“Dahlia you have to breathe, ok? Just breathe with me, alright?” She moved to stand in front of me, grabbing my shaking hands and squeezing them, trying to bring me back to reality. She took dramatic breaths, modeling a pattern, and I tried my best to follow her, slowly sucking in air and forcing my racing heart to slow down.

After what felt like hours, my heart rate finally returned to something close to normal, and she dropped my hands, still staying nearby to ensure that I was ok. I sniffled, wiping the tears off my cheeks, immediately trying to hide the evidence of my minor breakdown.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know -”

“No, you don’t have any reason to apologize,” She shut me down, but I shook my head.

“I know, but still -”

“Nope. No still. Do you want to talk about anything?” She asked. I shook my head again. I didn’t even think I could put into words what just went through my mind, and honestly, I didn’t really want to try.

“Ok. Are you ok to go to your house?” She asked. I nodded this time, and I followed her on unsteady legs as we crossed the parking lot to the car. I glanced back at the road, but the SUV was gone by that point. I reminded myself that it was probably just an ordinary person, that I couldn’t be scared every time I saw one of the most common cars in the world, but in the back of my mind I knew that I would never look at them the same.

Someone wants to kill me.

The thought kept running through my mind, I couldn’t shut it up despite my best efforts. So I just climbed into the car with Emily, staring out the windshield as she backed out of the parking lot.