UNSTEADY ➢ spencer reid

I WANT YOU AROUND

"Spencer?" I peeked into the doorway. I hugged my chest tightly, as I snuck into the room, scanning it curiously. Everything was abnormally white, which was definitely a normal colour scheme for a hospital, but still made me uneasy. I squinted, my eyes hurting from the amount of brightness that poured into the room. I licked my lips nervously and walked towards the bed.

He let out a heavy breath, his face slowly turning to meet mine. He jumped at the sight of me, sitting up quickly. Immediately after he grabbed his abdomen, wincing in pain.

"Ah, no, no, no!" I quickly ran to his bed. All my nerves evaporated into thin air the second I saw him. It was like, despite all this lightness in the room he was the brightest thing in here. He made everything better, calmer, even during moments of panic like this. I stood next to the bed unsure of what to do. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay? Do I need to call a nurse?" I rambled on and on until I heard a faint chuckle.

"I'm fine." He groaned.

"You don't look fine." I frowned.

"You came all the way here to tell me that?"

I couldn't help, but laugh, even though I felt awful. I grabbed a chair from the other side of the room, placing it next to the bed to sit. I grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I know." He adjusted himself.

"A-and..." I shook my head, "I'm mad at you for it."
"That seems fair." He smiled.

"And I'm really glad you're okay." I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes, even though the last thing I wanted to do was cry around him. I wiped them away with the back of my arm as I held in a sob.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." I could tell he was in pain. The way his voice sounded more like a strained whisper was a dead giveaway. "I'm okay."

I sniffed, nodding.

"I like your shirt." He smiled.

I rolled my eyes, another laugh escaping my lips.

"Did you know that approximately two-thousand American's have to go to the hospital every year for bagel related injuries?"

I gave him a look, but he continued anyway.

"It happens so often that hospitals came up with a code to specify them from other injuries." I could tell he was pleased with himself. He flashed me a pained grin.

"Even in crisis you're still you." I responded.

"That's good, right?"

"Yeah it is." I couldn't help but smile.

I sat in silence for a while, holding his hand tightly as I stared off into space. Every so often I'd glance over at him to make sure he was still breathing. Eventually he closed his eyes, breathing heavier than before. I figured he'd fallen asleep, so I let go of his hand, which he almost immediately grabbed back.

"Don't go." He whispered.

"I'm not going anywhere." I whispered back. I stroked his hand with my thumb.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you what was happening." He said, eyes still closed.

"It's okay," I replied, "now that I know everything it was probably hard for you to talk about it anyway. Getting stabbed and all." I brought his hand up to my face, giving it a quick kiss.

He opened one eye, giving me a curious look.

"I'm just glad you're not dead."

"Me too." He closed his eye again, a smirk creeping across his face. "Otherwise I wouldn't have gotten that kiss."