the violet effect // spencer reid

30 • layers of us

• chapter warnings: mention of addiction •

previously:

When they finally lay tangled together, their breaths heavy and hearts pounding, Spencer pressed a lingering kiss to her temple. His hand traced idle patterns on her skin, he wasn’t thinking about what came next. He was just here, with her, and it felt like enough.

•••

Violet lay in her bed, the moonlight spilling softly through the half-drawn blinds, casting silver shadows across the room. The sheets were tangled around her legs and Spencer’s, their bodies unconsciously woven together as if neither wanted to lose the warmth of the other. Her head rested on his chest, his steady heartbeat a soothing rhythm beneath her ear.

Spencer’s fingers absently traced patterns along her bare shoulder, his touch gentle and grounding. They had barely spoken since they’d retreated here, their intimacy still hanging heavy in the room. But now, in the quiet aftermath, something unspoken lingered between them.

“You’re quiet,” Violet murmured, her voice soft but curious.

Spencer exhaled a long breath. His hand stilled on her shoulder. “I’m just… thinking.”

“About what?” she asked, tilting her head up to look at him. His features were softer in the dim light, the sharp lines of his face replaced by vulnerability.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering toward the ceiling as though searching for the right words there. “I’ve been thinking about telling you something,” he began cautiously, his voice a little uneven. “Something I don’t talk about. Ever.”

Violet’s brows furrowed slightly, but she didn’t push him. She simply waited, her fingers lightly brushing over the fabric of the sheet resting on his chest.

Spencer’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Do you remember when Tobias—your brother—held me hostage?” he asked, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

Her breath hitched. Of course, she remembered. She hadn’t been part of the BAU then, but she had read the case file, seen the aftermath it left in its wake. Her brother Tobias, or rather one of his alters, had tortured Spencer in ways she didn’t even want to imagine. The thought made her stomach twist.

“I remember,” she said quietly.

Spencer nodded, his gaze still fixed on the ceiling as though looking at her might make the words harder to say. “During that time… Tobias gave me dilaudid.” His voice wavered slightly, but he pressed on. “It wasn’t just the physical torture—it was the psychological games, the manipulation. But the dilaudid… it left a mark on me in a way I wasn’t prepared for.”

Violet’s heart clenched, her body stilling against his. She knew where this was going.

“When I got back, I told myself it was just the trauma talking. That I could move past it, that it wouldn’t affect me. But I… I didn’t move past it. I started using it, trying to cope with everything I’d been through, and it spiraled out of control. For a while, I didn’t know how to stop.”

His voice cracked slightly, and he paused, taking a steadying breath. “I’ve been clean for five years now, but the struggle never really goes away. Not completely. Some days are easier, but there are moments… moments when it feels so close, like it’s just waiting for me to give in.”

Violet stared at him, her heart aching at the rawness in his voice. She couldn’t believe he was sharing this with her—this deeply personal wound that he had kept hidden.

“You never told anyone on the team?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

He shook his head. “No. But I think they knew. They’re profilers, after all. I just… I never said it out loud. Not to them, not to anyone. Until now.”

Spencer finally looked down at her, his eyes glassy but resolute. “And I’m telling you because… I don’t know. I guess I just needed to be honest with you. About all of me.”

Violet’s lips parted, but no words came at first. What could she say to something like that? How could she possibly respond to such a vulnerable confession? She felt her chest tighten, not with pity, but with admiration for his strength. He felt more exposed now, she realized, than he had been during their intimacy. And yet, he trusted her enough to let her see this part of him.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Spencer said softly, almost as if reading her mind. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to fix it or make it better. I just… needed you to know.”

She shifted slightly, her hand moving to rest over his heart, which was beating a little faster now. “Thank you for trusting me,” she said simply. “I know it couldn’t have been easy to say all of that, but… I’m glad you did. And I’m here. Whatever you need, Spencer. You don’t have to do this alone.”

His lips curved into a small, grateful smile. “You always know the right thing to say,” he murmured.

Violet chuckled softly. “That’s debatable.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence for a moment before Violet broke it. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“How did you… get through it? The addiction, I mean. How did you pull yourself out of it?”

Spencer took a deep breath, his hand resuming its slow, soothing movement along her shoulder. “It wasn’t easy,” he admitted. “There were days when I didn’t think I could do it, when the craving felt like it would swallow me whole. But I held onto the people in my life—the team, my mom, the thought of the people I could still help by staying clean. It was a lot of little things that added up over time.”

Violet nodded, absorbing his words. “You’re stronger than you think, you know.”

He gave her a small, self-deprecating laugh. “I don’t always feel that way.”

“Well, you are,” she said firmly. “And you’re allowed to feel weak sometimes. It doesn’t make you any less strong.”

Spencer looked at her, his eyes softening. “You’re… amazing,” he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice making her chest tighten again.

“So are you,” she replied, her voice just as soft.

They spent the next hour talking, their conversation meandering from Spencer’s childhood to Violet’s own struggles with her family. She shared stories about growing up with Tobias, the signs she missed before everything fell apart, and how she still carried guilt over not seeing it sooner. Spencer listened intently, offering quiet reassurances that she had no reason to blame herself.

As the night stretched on, Spencer glanced at the clock on her bedside table and sighed. “I should probably head home,” he said reluctantly.

Violet frowned slightly, not ready for him to leave. “You could stay,” she offered, her voice tentative but hopeful.

Spencer looked at her, surprise flickering across his face before it softened into something warmer. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “I’d like it if you did.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Okay,” he said softly.

They settled back into the bed, Violet curling against him as he wrapped an arm around her. The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, made her feel safe in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

“Good night, Spencer,” she murmured sleepily, her voice muffled against his chest.

“Good night, Violet,” he replied, his voice low and soothing.

As they drifted off together, the weight of their confessions felt lighter, their connection stronger. And in the quiet of the night, with their breaths and heartbeats mingling, they found peace in each other’s presence.