3 [Spencer Reid x Reader]

Touched

You were embarrassed to even show your face the next morning. You had woken up in bed, cold and alone. You wished you could say that you had imagined last night, that you hadn't had a spectacular meltdown, but your dry and puffy eyes told you otherwise. It had started out as the same nightmare as last time.

You had died in your dream, darkness surrounding you. It was peaceful. There was a bliss in not having to do anything but just exist in this moment. No performative bullshit, no overthinking or analyzing. Just being.

And then you were conscious, disoriented and lying on the floor of some unfamiliar room. Spencer was there, dragging you up off of the floor and into his arms.

"You're back," he had murmured into your ear.

"Why?" you protested in anger, ripping yourself away from him. "Why didn't you let me die?"

His face fell, his arms still reaching out for you as you scrambled away.

"I couldn't let you go," he replied simply.

You remember being furious at him, at the world. You had been happy. Why was everyone so intent on ruining it for you? You ran, away from him, away from everyone and everything. You were in an office building, a maze of conference rooms and bathrooms and offices. Blank walls, no windows, no decorations. Just darkness.

And then you ran into him.

Anthony Valassino, covered in blood.

But this time, you didn't wake up.

You turned around to run, but it was too late. He was grabbing at you, throwing you against the wall before you had a chance to fight back. That's when the real nightmare started.

Again and again, he would assault you while you cried and begged him to stop. He would let you go, and you would run, and he would find you again. You screamed for help, for someone, anyone. You mostly called out to Spencer, but he was lost, too. He would never come, and Anthony would be there again, laughing at your tears as he defiled you.

On and on, it went in a never-ending loop until you were shaken awake by Spencer. You couldn't help it. You started to cry.

You were terrified. It had felt so real, as if it weren't a dream at all. You could still feel Anthony's grip on your body, even though it hadn't actually happened to you in that moment. The harsh truth of the matter was that it felt real because it had happened to you. Not today, not in this moment, but the pain felt just as fresh as it had back then, back when you thought your future was bright, back when you thought Stephen had actually loved you.

Poor, sweet Spencer. You couldn't even look at him. The moment he had told you that you were safe, your mental state crumbled. When was the last time you had cried like this? Or genuinely cried at all? It felt like your heart was ripping itself right out of your own chest. But Spencer had wrapped his arms around you, and he held your pieces together as you fell apart. Inconsolable as you were, his soft touch and warm embrace helped calm you down.

Safe.

His soothing hands and the smell of peppermint lulled you into a dreamless sleep in his arms. But now you were awake, and you were lonely and bitter. You couldn't blame Spencer for leaving. You were lucky that he had even come to comfort you in the first place, and that he had treated you with kindness. Your chest ached slightly from his absence. You wished he would let you curl up in his arms again.

It was difficult to gauge his reactions towards you. You knew that he didn't like you. It was obvious in the language he used, in his cold demeanor and rough touch. But every once in awhile, he was sweet and playful. He had bantered with you and even laughed a little. He had held you in his arms as if he actually cared for you.