wasted times- s.r

FORTY-ONE

TW: emetophobia (vomiting) NO, y/n is not preggers!! no preggo plots in this book!

You wake up the next morning to an empty room, glancing around groggily to see Spencer standing in the corner. Your nostrils immediately flare in anger, reaching for the nurse's button when he stops you by holding up his hands.

"Five minutes is all I'm asking for," he pleads.

"No. I don't want you here and I made that very clear," you snarl, lifting up a finger and pointing to the door. He puts his arms up in defence, "I get that, I do, but I just want to apologize. I don't expect you to forgive me right now, or ever, but I need you to know that I am sorry."

"Oh well if you're sorry, I guess that makes everything better," you roll your eyes, sarcasm dripping from your tone. "I guess I can forget all about it and move on now."

"I'm giving you an out, Y/N. If there's even the smallest chance that you think we could get past this, I'll fight for you, and I promise to never hurt you like that again." He looks at you with glassy eyes, and you can tell he's being sincere, but you can't trust what he says anymore.

"And if there is no chance?" You ask, seeing his expression drop slightly.

"Then I'll leave you alone and stop trying," he responds, fiddling with his fingers in front of him. As you look at Spencer, you no longer see someone whom you love and who makes you happy, because all you can see is someone who broke your heart multiple times and betrayed you. You're not sure you'll ever look at him the same after everything that happened.

"That's what I want," you state firmly. He nods his head in understanding, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking to the door, "Oh, and Reid?" He stops in the doorway, turning back to look at you, "I just wanted to let you know that your friend, Maeve was playing you the entire time. Nathanial orchestrated it all to break us up. He dangled the bait right in your face and you took it."

A flash of hurt makes its way across his features, and you take pride in knowing that you were able to make him feel even a fraction of the pain he's put you through. He clears his throat, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I hope she was worth it." 

He doesn't say anything else after that, mostly because he's now sure what to say. He shoves his hands in his pockets and hangs his head low in shame, mumbling a goodbye as he walks out of the door, quietly shutting it behind him.

...

After nearly three weeks after the incident, you're finally returning to work. After spending weeks at home, only leaving for your mandated therapy sessions, you've finally managed to pull yourself together enough for work. The last three weeks consisted mostly of you crying and watching tv, the girls occasionally coming over to check on you. The first week was the worst, though. You couldn't go longer than twenty minutes without combusting into tears, and you hadn't left your bed at all, Luna glued to your side. It had gotten so bad that JJ and Penelope had come over at some point, washing your hair in the sink for you because you'd been too drained to do it yourself.

Spencer had decided to be a decent human and abide by your wishes, leaving you alone. His phone calls stopped and so did the knocking on your door begging to let him in. You're grateful for that.

The nightmares hadn't made it any easier, either.

When you'd shoot up in bed in the middle of the night, feeling like your skin is on fire, you can still hear the echo of Nathanial's voice and the recorded phone calls he'd play on repeat to torment you. When you wake up, you swear you can still hear the sound of Spencer's laugh echoing through the phone when Maeve had said something funny. The thought makes you sick to your stomach. Other times when you'd wake up, you'd be in so much pain, your head spinning with nausea, that you'd bolt out of bed and run to the bathroom, puking up any food you'd managed to eat that day.