Spencer Reid | One Shots

summertime

My phone rings, pulling me out of my sleep.

"What the fuck..." I feel for my phone on the night stand, not even opening my eyes to look for it. "What time...?"

I brace myself for the light from the screen and open my eyes, staring at the display. Spencer's calling...at two in the morning.

"Hello?" I answer through a yawn, pulling my blanket back up over me.

"Y/N?" He asks. "I...I'm sorry to wake you,"

"Eh, sleep is overrated. What's up? Why are you up so late?"

The line falls silent for a second before he speaks up again.

"Could you...could you come over?" He doesn't answer my question. His voice is a little bit shaky. Something is definitely wrong.

I'm not even sleepy anymore, I throw my covers off and rush to turn my lights on. "Yeah, of course. Let me put some clothes on, stay on the line with me, yeah?"

"Okay,"

I put the call on speaker and set my phone on my dresser as I grab a pair of leggings to throw on. I don't even worry about putting a bra on, or a new shirt. I stay in my ugly, oversized Space Jam shirt. I run my fingers through my hair to make it somewhat neat and throw on my shoes, telling Spencer that I'll be leaving in just a sec and to stay on the phone with me.

I grab my purse and keys and bolt to my car.

"Hey, I'm in my car, I'm gonna leave you on speaker, but I'll be there in a few, okay?"

"Okay,"

"Do you need anything? Want me to pick you something up at the store?" I ask him as I pull out of my parking lot.

"Just you...please."

I'm over there in no time and I bolt up the stairs and knock on his door, hanging up the call when he opens it up.

My best friend looks like a mess. His brown eyes are bloodshot and his hair is unkempt. He's still in his work clothes and shoes.

"Hi," I greet him with a sad look. "Do you want a hug?"

He shakes his head. "Not...right now. I'm sorry,"

"Don't apologize, please. It's nothing to be sorry about,"

He moves aside so that I can step into his apartment.

"What's going on?" I head toward his couch and take a seat. He follows, sitting down next to me.

"I...I haven't told you this, but...I was talking to someone. Maeve," He starts, staring at a book on his coffee table. "Something happened. She was killed right in front of me the other day..."

I feel my stomach twist into a knot. "Spence,"

"It was my first time even meeting her and she..." A sob escapes the boy's throat. His whole face is overcome with pain and sadness as he cries.

"Have you been in those clothes since...?"

He looks ashamed, but nods. "I can't find the will to put on different ones. I'm really having a hard time,"

I frown at him, wanting to hug him or cozy up next to him as I usually would when he's upset about something. He said that he didn't want a hug, though...so I'm gonna keep my distance.

"In my room, my sock drawer... there's a glass bottle-"

My heart sinks, knowing what glass bottle he's talking about. "Please, tell me you didn't..."