Façade//Spencer Reid

7. Façade

SPENCER
With permission from Hotch, JJ and I coordinated with the U.S. Marshal Service, managing to get Y/N to a safe-house. JJ and I were trusted with knowing where Y/N would be situated. We would be in charge of making sure that Y/N was constantly updated. At 5 PM, I showed up at Y/N's safe-house address. I didn't look at all like normal. Instead of wearing a normal gray shirt, black slacks and some converse, I had sweatpants on, a graphic t-shirt and a sweater on. I looked different, even tidying up my hair.

I don't know why I tidied my hair. I had never once tidied up my appearance for someone, let alone a woman. Knocking on her front door, I waited for her to unlock all 6 of the locks on her side. Once she knew she was safe, she let me in, a smile on her face.

"Hey, Dr. Reid." She smiled, walking with me to the living room. Each and every window in this small house had tinted windows, so she could see out, but no one could see in.

"Hey, Y/N. Please, call me Spencer. But, how are you settling in?" I asked, curious.

"Well, I haven't lived in a proper house in 6 years, so...it's a little weird for me." She chuckled.

"Where did you live, if you don't mind me asking?" I sat on the armchair, watching as she grabbed a bottle of water and walked over, sitting down.

"When I wasn't killing people, I was living at his apartment. When I was killing, I was travelling from hotel to hotel." Y/N exhaled, explaining her situation.

"I see your wardrobe has improved." She looked down at my attire, noticing my lack of work-appropriate clothes.

"Y- Yeah. I, uh, wanted to blend in and look semi-normal, so I borrowed some of my colleague - Derek's clothing." I admitted.

"You look good as well." I mentioned.

"Oh, thanks. Agent Jareau brought some clothes for me earlier today." Y/N smiled.

"Do your colleagues see me as a threat?" She suddenly asked. She seemed curious, and a bit nervous.

"I don't think so. Agent Jareau and I have explained your situation to our team, and they seem to understand." I explained to her, watching as she nodded.

"I think that your boss...Agent Hotchner...doesn't like me very much." Y/N chuckled as she drank from her bottle of water.

"He's just doing his job. We caught a murderer and Hotch did what he thought was necessary to get information." I reassured her.

Y/N
"Can I, uh...ask you something?" You asked, watching as Spencer nodded, leaning back, his head now resting against the armchair.

"Sure. What's up?" Spencer asked, smiling.

"Do you think it would be wise for me to pretend to still be working? I mean, if my boss hasn't figured out that I've been caught by the FBI, then maybe I can continue to lie and pretend to be working for him. I can become a double Agent. I can pull off a...façade maybe?" You looked at Spencer, who tensed up a little.

"Y/N, the whole point of you being set up in a safe-house, is so that you can remain safe while my team, the BAU, find and track down your boss. That way, we can arrest him and help free you and your son." Spencer calmly explained.

"I understand that, Spencer, but you have no idea who you're dealing with. You're not the one who had your entire family murdered because your father refused to kill. You're not the one who had the life of contract killing thrust upon you. You're not the one who was ra-" You stopped when you reached that word.

"-you weren't forced into becoming a parent at the age of 17." You exhaled.

"I am not the only contract killer that M has working for him. I am one of...dozens of contract killers that he hires and fires. There are contract killers within his contacts who have been killing people for over 20 years." You explained, watching as Spencer's eyes widened.

"There's...more?" Spencer questioned.

"I've only ever met 2 or 3 more contract killers, but yes. From my knowledge, M has over a dozen more contract killers that he can use if one of his...regulars bows out." You nodded.

"And by 'bows out', you mean...?" Spencer looked at you, watching as you rolled your eyes.

"I mean he kills them. If one of his regulars decides to stop killing, or can't continue killing, - for whatever reason - they don't live long enough to escape. I mean, that's what they get for choosing - or not - to work for an American Mafia leader." You let a tear fall.

"Is that...what happened to you family? Is that why the life of a contract killer was thrust upon you?" Spencer questioned you, curious.

"My father worked for M originally. My brother, my mother and I had nothing to do with what he did when working for M. But then...the extra-curricular activities ceased and they all died. His...untouched jobs - all of his future targets - where instantly transferred to me." You looked away, more tears threatening to spill.

"Think of it this way. If my dad didn't stop killing, and M didn't kill him, he would've been the one that you caught after having killed Mr. and Mrs. Norton." You exhaled.

"I- I'm so sorry, Y/N." Spencer moved from the armchair, toward the couch. He sat down beside you, placing his right hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

"Don't apologise. I shouldn't have let M take over my life." You shook your head.

"You couldn't control what happened. Besides, because of what happened, you now have a beautiful 5-year-old boy who is waiting to see his mother again. You have something to live for. You have someone in your life that is worth living for." Spencer looked into your eyes and smiled.

For a brief moment, you felt safe - which was weird, considering you're supposed feel safe in a safe-house. You had never felt this before, a feeling of security or safeness. You spent nights going to sleep in fear that you'd never wake up. Every moment of every day was spent fearing that M would get sick of her, or would find a reason to kill her.

But now, now you sat on a couch in your living-room of your temporary home. Sat beside you was possibly the kindest member of law enforcement, apart from Agent Jareau. He had listened to you and made you feel safe just by placing his hand on your shoulder. Even before you parents and brother died, no one ever made you feel so safe.

All you wished for right now was the chance to hold your son again, to make him feel as safe as Spencer was making you feel.