the journalist || spencer reid

|| twelve

twelve || "lauren" season 6, episode 18

The team, who never missed anything, caught on to Tate's addition of a sweater vest and Spencer's sudden lack of one. Looking at JJ, who brought the pair out there, they caught her conspiratorial smile.

They learned that Ian Doyle had a child, one that Prentiss knew about, but didn't tell even Clyde, for the kid's protection. Garcia was able to track him down, finding pictures of him and his caretaker with a gun to their heads in an abandoned warehouse. With the realization that Prentiss was the one holding the gun in the photos, Garcia quickly found the address to the warehouse, concluding that that must be where Doyle was keeping her.

Morgan moved in with a special ops team, taking out Doyle's team as quietly as possible. When they finally found Emily, there was a big, wooden beam impaled in her midsection. They made it to the hospital, camping out in the waiting room until there was news about their friend's condition.

Derek and Penelope sat beside each other, Rossi and Seaver across from them. Perpendicular to the four were Hotch and Tate, Reid pacing in front of them after bringing coffee back for Tate. She finally grabbed Spencer's hand and pulled him down to the chair next to her, putting an end to his pacing. He accepted the gesture and buried his head in her shoulder.

JJ made her way into the room and they all subsequently sat up straighter. She didn't have to say a word, her eyes glazed with unshed tears as she looked from the group down to the tile.

"No," Penelope whispered.

"She never made it off the table," JJ said.

Tate looped her arms around herself as she choked on a sob. She tried to stand up, but her legs turned to jelly beneath her and Morgan had to lunge forward to keep her from collapsing. They hunched together on the ground as Tate cried into his shoulder, her fists tightly clenching the soft material of his shirt. Penelope and Seaver soon joined them crouched on the floor and Rossi stood over them, his hand on Seaver's shoulder as he quietly processed the news.

Spencer stood and tried to excuse himself from the room, but JJ caught his shoulder. "Spence," she muttered.

"I didn't get a chance to say goodbye," he said. The realization washed over all of them like a punch to the gut and another round of suffocating sobs broke from Tate's chest.

Hotch excused himself into a nearby hallway and JJ soon joined him, leaving the team to console themselves in private.

Spence, Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi were pallbearers at the funeral. The eight remaining members of the team each placed a red rose on the stark black of the coffin before she was lowered into the ground. Her headstone sat lonesome and, as Tate stared at it, she never thought she'd see another person so close to her with their names in a cemetery. At least, not this soon.

|| "hanley waters" season 6, episode 20

"You know, you knew about my mother. Because you had to, because it was in my file, right?" Tate asked, looking over at Hotch in the armchair in his office. Each member of the team would soon sit in her position for a personal evaluation from their boss.

"That's right," Hotch said. "Your first case. We spoke about it. Because the unsub was murdering exotic dancers in Indiana."

"Yeah. And that dick sheriff was badmouthing them? Said they were asking for it?"

"I remember."

"Yeah... Me, too." Tate looked down at her lap and picked at her fingernail polish. "I told Emily, though. She practically guessed it. Within a few hours of meeting me... she guessed it. She paid attention, more than any of us, I think."

When Tate paused, Hotch attempted to kindly urge her to continue. "She was a phenomenal agent."

Tate laughed lightly. "I was going more for a good friend... But yeah."

"She was a good friend."

"My mother killed herself. And Emily, she didn't kill herself, but... she chose how she wanted to die. By leaving us. And I even... I saw the signs. She was everywhere, but nowhere. She was detached. She wasn't herself. Every conversation with her felt like she was saying goodbye... Emily didn't think she'd live much longer, I don't think."

"And that made you think of your mother?"

Tate looked up at him, her eyes swimming as she finally paused the assault on her nail polish. "Yeah, it did... But I didn't even see it until after she was gone... Maybe I could've-"

"You couldn't have," he assured.

Tate nodded and stared off, wiping a tear from her eye as soon as it fell.

"You've been thinking a lot recently. You pick at your nail polish when you're thinking. Did you know that?"

Tate laughed lightly and looked down at her fingers. "Yeah. Because Em told me... And yeah. Normally, I'm more of a lip biter. Nerves, according to Em. But recently, it's like my mind... it's always working. Towards what, I don't- I don't know."

"You and Reid are closer than ever. Did that happen during the case?"

Tate bit her lip, smiled, and narrowed her eyes at Hotch. "Are you allowed to ask me that, Agent Hotchner?"

Tate wanted to celebrate when the corner of his lip turned upwards. "I asked nothing about your love life, Dr. Katz. You only interpreted it that way."

Tate shook her head. "I need to stop being friends with profilers."

Hotch shrugged and raised his eyebrows at her. "...So?"

"We had lunch with Gideon this week. He apparently saw some change in our... friendship. But I have no clue what he's referring to."

"Are you and Reid..."

Tate smiled again and ran her hands over her face. "We kissed once. In Boston, after Fahey... Since then, he's just been there. Right next to me. It's kinda nice... But also, we've been able to process separately. Ya know? We spend almost all our free time together and we talk about Em a lot, but we, I especially, have worked hard not to tie any... development in our friendship to... our grief."

Hotch nodded. "That's good."

"Yeah. It is."

Hotch smiled slightly. "I should inform you. The fraternization policy for the FBI states that agents may... date. Amongst themselves."

Tate raised an eyebrow at him. "Alright, I think we're officially getting away from the topic at hand, boss."

Hotch laughed lightly. "You're dismissed, Dr. Katz."

Tate saluted him playfully and moved towards the door. "And, just so you know, we're just friends." She excused herself from the room, leaving Hotch to contradict her statement in solitude. Just outside his door, Tate looked out over the cluster of desks. Spencer glanced up, caught her eye, and smiled. Tate smiled back.

|| author's note

they're just friends, y'all 🙄

anyway, sorry for the sad update. but also i've been doing sunday updates and then i realized i hated updating on sundays so expect new chapters on fridays now (if i remember)