Be Safe (Criminal Minds/Spencer Reid x OC romantic Fanfic)

OLD PHOTOGRAPHS

WARNING: POSSIBLE ED TRIGGER

REID'S POV

It was the day of Amity's discharge, and she was coming to stay with me. I'd barely seen her these last few days because of the paperwork and meetings I had to have in order to allow her to come home with me.

I even had my doubts, so only God knows what these people I was trying to convince were feeling. I knew we'd get on well, I knew we'd probably even enjoy living together. I had a spare room and she had… no one, nothing. That was what cured any doubts, the fact she had no one.

I've been out during the day and coming back at night, sleeping here mostly. It would start off in the chair, Amity would wake up screaming, I'd climb up onto the bed with her and she'd cry into my chest as I stroked her hair. She'd fall asleep again and I'd sleep there with her.

I'd had girlfriends in the past, well; I've had three girlfriends in the past, but we never spoke as easily as I do with Amity. I didn't feel as awkward around her, she didn't mind my babbling or my facts that I have for pretty much any subject. She seemed to enjoy it; she told me that when her and her dad used to sit down for dinner they had to have a 'fact of the day'. If one of them didn't have one then they'd have to do the dishes for the week. She's starting to talk more and more about her parents; I think it's helping her.

I walked up into Amity's room and knocked on the door.

"Come in," she called. Her voice sounded the strongest I've heard it. I opened the door and she smiled at me and continued to pack the rest of her things away. She was standing up; the first time I'd seen her standing on her own.

She'd get in a wheelchair and wheel herself out the front of the hospital to smoke her cigarettes, no matter how many facts I told her about smoking related deaths and diseases.

She'd requested for someone to go into her parent's house and sort through their stuff. She said there's no way that she could go in there. She said to donate most of their clothes, keep their jewellery, their trinkets, but considering they sold most of their assets to start their life here, there wasn't that much to keep or giveaway.

Amity got some money from the house, but it's in her parents' wills that she wasn't to get the majority of it until she was 21.

The funeral was next week; she'd been planning it whilst I was away. Every time a nurse would ask what she was doing, you saw it break their heart. An eighteen-year-old girl planning both her parent' funerals. When I spoke to her on the phone yesterday she was angry that she was the only one going to her parents funeral. They were good people. I was going to work on that.

The stuff she was keeping was piled up in boxes in the spare room. Garcia, who was actually very excited to meet Amity, had gone to my house and did a bit of redecorating. She set out buying bedclothes and cushions and little boxes and glass bottles that girls always seem to have on shelves.

I watched her pack the last of her things. She wore a pair of light blue jeans and a white top with a picture of Kurt Cobain on the front with an open shirt that I was sure belonged to her dad. I smiled. I loved Nirvana. She also wore white converse and her arms were covered in bangles. Her hair was pulled in a messy topknot on the top of her head and she had put make up on for the first time. She did look pretty with it on, she had thin black eyeliner lining her eyes and mascara that made her long lashes even longer, that was the only make up she wore.

"You ready?" I ask. She looks up and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She nods and the strand comes loose again. I don't think about it as I lean forward and tuck it behind her ear again. It's only afterwards that I realise what I've done. I blush and pull my hand back. She looks momentarily shocked before she smiles and thanks me quietly. I smile and shuffle my weight from one foot to the other nervously. She stood up straight and grabbed her bag. I took it off her and shook my head.