Suddenly, as you stare at the ceiling, your feet in Spencer's lap and your head leaning back against the side of the couch on the team plane, a question pops into your mind. It's a bit of a dumb question, but considering you're flying back from one of the most intense cases you've ever been on and Spencer Reid is so tense you wouldn't know the difference if you were resting your feet on a rock, you figure it might clear the air a bit.
"Hey Reid?" your voice trails off, half deep in thought as you compare the question burning your brain with the last case you were on. He hums slightly in response.
Your eyes dart over to his figure and you see him tiredly leaning his head back with his eyes closed. You wonder if you woke him, and though you feel bad, you lean back again and proceed to ask the question.
"If a person with Multiple Personality threatened to kill themselves, would that be considered a hostage situation?"
He shifts underneath you, immediately sitting straight up and furrowing his brows in your direction. He wonders if that was a serious question. Sometimes he takes things seriously and then someone tells him he shouldn't and now he always wonders if it was a serious question. Especially when he's this tired. The whole team worked exceptionally hard this case, but Reid didn't even get a wink of sleep the whole week.
"(Y/N), w-what? That is the- no, what?" He stutters. You smirk. "That is quite possibly one of the dumbest questions i've ever heard."
You bite back a gasp. He's snappy when he's tired!
"But can you answer it, pretty boy?"
"I-I- No. No, of course it's not a hostage situation- both personalities would have to consent, otherwise it wouldn't be happening. Besides, a hostage situation is one person holding another against their will. Physically. Even with multiple personalities one person is still responsible for their own choices. It'd still be a suicide since the person killed themselves. One brain was involved, just one brain with multiple mindsets. Why do you ask in the first place?"
You shrug. "You looked stressed. I knew it was a dumb question but i was wondering and i thought maybe my stupidity would bring a smile to your face." You pause, closing your eyes to let out a breath. "You deserve it."
You blink your eyes open for a few seconds, scanning his face. When you finally close your eyes again, it's with a grin as you picture the small smile on his face that forms when he looks at you.
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"Thanks," He whispers. His eyes trail up and down your body as you fall asleep, hovering the longest over your face. Your eyes.. He wishes he could see your eyes.
He always thought they were stunning. Well, he always thought you were stunning, but your eyes captivated him from the moment he first saw them, and he loved to look at them. There were few people he didn't understand, and you were one of them. He loved your beautiful eyes and stupid questions.
Slowly, he moves your sleeping body into his lap and hugs you close. After all this team had been through, he knew you could sleep through world war three if it came down to it.
He squirms about, carefully laying you back down. He only moved you in the first place to get out, and he blushes madly.
Why did he do that? He could've easily just lifted your feet from his lap and went on his way. Why move your whole body when he could have just inched away? He runs a hand through his hair, which he notices is irritatingly greasy after so long of only staring at a board with victimology and clues dropped by the unsub and struggling to figure out the puzzle.
He sighs and grabs a blanket to drape over you.
You shift slightly under the added weight as he wraps you in the blanket and he pulls away, holding his hands down by his side. He drops down to the floor in front of the couch, body resting in a N shape. He leans his head back on the couch just in front of your thighs and crosses his arms over his knees.
