the violet effect // spencer reid

12 • finding peace

• chapter warnings: mention of nightmares •

previously:

Spencer combed through his entire encyclopedia of a brain to find an explanation and the only thing that made any sense was that, to his surprise, he was falling in love.

•••

The bullpen hummed with quiet activity, the team’s focus on catching up with paperwork. Spencer noticed her the moment Violet walked in. She looked different—her usually polished appearance replaced with yesterday’s wrinkled blouse, her hair hastily pulled back, and dark circles etched under her eyes.

She kept her gaze down, offering a half-hearted wave to the team before slipping into her chair. She didn’t even attempt her usual small talk. Instead, she immediately began shuffling through the folders on her desk, though her movements were sluggish.

Spencer frowned, his pen pausing mid-word. He wasn’t sure if he should say something. Violet had only been with the team for a few months, and though they had grown close, he still felt unsure about when to step in. Still, the concern gnawed at him.

Finally, he set his pen down and walked over, his hands fidgeting slightly as he leaned against the edge of her desk. “Morning,” he said, his voice soft.

“Morning,” she muttered, not looking up.

Spencer hesitated, then asked, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she replied curtly, her tone closing the door to further questions.

Spencer didn’t move. “You, uh… you don’t look fine.”

Violet stopped flipping through the folder and glared up at him. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dr. Reid.”

He flushed, stumbling over his words. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—” He stopped, taking a breath. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” she repeated, her tone sharper now. “Just tired, Spencer. It happens.”

He opened his mouth to press further but decided against it. Pushing her now wouldn’t help. Instead, he gave a small nod, backing off and returning to his desk, though he couldn’t focus on his work.

•••

By mid-morning, Spencer couldn’t ignore it anymore. Every time he glanced at Violet, she looked more drained, her focus slipping in and out as she stared at the same file for an hour. During a lull in the day, he made another attempt.

“Hey, Violet,” he said, hovering near her desk. “Do you want to take a break? Maybe grab some coffee?”

She sighed, barely sparing him a glance. “I’m fine, Spencer. I don’t need a break.”

“You’ve been staring at that file for a while,” he said, his voice gentle but insistent. “I think you could use one.”

Her jaw tightened, and she pushed the folder away with a frustrated huff. “I don’t need a babysitter, okay? Just leave it alone.”

Spencer flinched at her tone but didn’t retreat. Instead, he nodded slowly, his voice soft. “Okay. I’ll be at my desk if you… if you change your mind.”

She didn’t respond, and Spencer walked away, though his concern lingered.

•••

By lunch, Violet still hadn’t left her desk. Spencer watched her pick at the salad someone had left for her earlier, her expression distant. Finally, he mustered his courage and approached again.