Word count: 1,376
Waking up from the couch on the jet was kind of weird the first time. Someone covered you with a jacket. The brown fabric with lighter brown ovals on each sleeve at the elbows told you it was definitely Spencer's.
You scanned what was in your range of vision: Emily sleeping next to somone you could only see a sliver of, probably JJ. Hotch, all the way down the row, doing something with the case files. Spencer, just across the aisle and slumped forward with his head in his hands, staring down at the table he was leaning on.
You slowly sat up, moving your legs to the floor. You quietly crossed to the doctor and laid his jacket over his shoulders. He looked up at you through squinted eyes. You offered a half-smile as you sat across from him.
"What's going on in that incredible brain of yours?"
"Uh, I- I just, I was thinking about the case." Sometimes, Spencer had a remarkable poker face. You, however, could distinguish the slightest hint of deception from a look in his eyes or a hesitation from his lips. You'd like to think it's because of your skills as a profile for the FBI, but really, it was because you knew Spencer so well and had become very familiar with his little habits and quirks.
"Leave it for the morning," you recommended, your eyelids growing heavier. "You should get some rest. There's still, what, two hours left?" You reached over and gently twisted his wrist to check the time on his watch.
"One and fourty-seven minutes," he corrected, and you both smiled at each other. It was silent for a moment after that. You didn't move your hand from his wrist, letting yourself fiddle with the cuff of his sleeve.
"So, the case, it's bothering you? And you can't sleep because of it?" you gently questioned, your eyes searching his for more information. They met yours for only a moment, then flicked down toward your hand as he gulped.
"(Y/N). . . Can I ask for a favor?" Spencer's expression was unreadable. "You can say no."
"Spencer, of course, what do you need?"
He kept his voice quiet, as to not wake up the others or alert Hotch. "Can you sit on this side?" He beckoned you over.
You nodded, thinking that he needed to whisper to you whatever was really bothering him or something. You got up and mistakingly made eye-contact with Hotch, showing him an awkward smile. You situated yourself beside Spencer and tucked your hair behind your ear.
"Okay, what's up?" You leaned in slightly.
Spencer was still for a moment, but eventually slowly leaned forward and to the side, his arms coming up under yours and wrapping around your body. Your back arched inward as the doctor pulled you closer. Hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back.
"Spencer," you whispered, now confused and worried. "what's wrong?"
He shook his head into your shoulder. His grip loosened, but he didn't make any effort into distancing himself from you. Your fingers glided up the back of his neck and through his hair, sending shivers down his spine. You lightly massaged his head, similar to how your mother used to for you when you had a bad day.
"You don't have to tell me, but you can't bottle up your emotions, Spence. If it's bothering you this much, you need to talk to someone."
Spencer sat himself up, his tired eyes staring into your own. You were never completely comfortable with eye-contact, but his hazel eyes captured you every time. You faced each other, his knee pressed against your shin in the tight space.
"I almost lost you today," he finally choked out. The words were barely audible; you had to take a moment to process the words.
"Oh, Spencer," you cooed, your hands finding his and holding them on his knee. Your head fell onto his shoulder in relief.
"What?" he asked, confused as to why you were acting this way. You leaned back.
"I'm not good at helping people with emotions and stuff," you admitted. "I'm just relieved that you're upset about something that could have happened to me. I can help with that, because I'm still here. I'm fine, nothing happened." You tried your best to explain and comfort him at the same time. He held tightly onto your hands.
"But-"
"Mm-mn. You know I absolutely love to hear you ramble about anything and everything, but I'm okay. You'll worry yourself to death if you're always focused on what could have happened, especially in our line of work. We have a great team who's always watching each others' backs, and I'm a pretty tough cookie myself, you know."
Spencer nodded, but you could practically hear the cogs still turning in his head.
"What is it?" you whispered.
He stayed silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. He withdrew his hands from yours to wring them together. His eyes stared into yours again and you patiently waited, as you all too often had to force him to go through his thought process out loud during cases so everyone could be on the same page.
"I love you," he blurted, his tone almost that of a sudden realization. You examined his demeanor, trying to determine what exactly he meant.
You had picked up little hints that he liked you here and there, but you'd convinced yourself that you were just his best friend, and that he just acted differently around you because you treated him differently than the rest of the team. Realizing he was now reading your expression in an attempt to gauge your reaction, your lips parted as you tried to think of something to say.
"Why?" you uttered, curious and not completely convinced. Spencer wouldn't lie to you or joke about this kind of thing, but maybe he misunderstood his feelings toward you.
"Well-" he stammered, the both of you somehow not breaking eye-contact. "I don't know if I can accurately describe the feeling I get when I see you."
You put your hand on his arm and glanced around the plane, reminding him to keep his voice down. He continued quietly, now slightly more tense.
"It- it's like the same pressure in my chest I get when I'm embarrassed, but. . . it's warm and. . . moves up my throat until I feel light in my head and I can't focus-"
You shushed him through your smile, blushing too much already and not able to take it any longer. You couldn't help but giggle.
"What did you think caused that sort of reaction before now, then?" Your hand slid down his arms to rest in his open palms.
"I thought I was sick, maybe a heart condition," he admitted, wide-eyed. "I went to my doctor and everything."
You slapped a hand over your own mouth to suppress a laugh. "I think you are sick, Doctor Reid."
His eyebrows furrowed, head tilting in thought.
"Love sick," you clarified, an anxious but hopeful smile glued to your face. An embarrassed, confused blush surfaced on Spencer's cheeks. "But if it's any consolation, I'm also pretty love sick."
He finally relaxed and leaned his head into his chair with a grin, tired eyes only half-open. "Can you come back?" He asked awkwardly, opening his arms and speaking through pursed but smiling lips. "Don't worry about being contagious, since we've both got it."
You scooted closer, then leaned into his chest, but he pushed back into you as his arms encircled you, moving you both back towards the middle of the seats. His head fell onto your shoulder, then yours rested on top of his mop of hair.
You both fell asleep with limbs dangling over each other. You both pretended you somehow became entangled in your sleep, and the team pretended to believe it.
(A/N) hello and happy holidays! I know, it's been too long haha, but I have a few chapters in progress for this book and I figured I'd actually write them.
