Spencer Reid Imagines

Name Your Next Child After Me

October 4, 2020

~EDITED~

a/n:

this is a reader x spencer  imagine and has a scene with hotch and haley!! also in this particular scene i know spencer doesn't show up but i'm going to have him in this scene a little bit! so ya! i hope you guys enjoy!

*Word Count: 3.9K*

Warning: spoilers (don't read this if you haven't made it to season 5! unless you really want to of course) other then that there are no other warnings!

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3rd POV

The team keep trying to contact you but you had this gut feeling that you needed to follow. So without anyone's knowledge you headed out on yourr own.

Spencer calls you again. "Still no answer?" Derek asks Spencer. Spencer shakes his head no. He's been worried sick about you.

~~~~~~

You looks down at your phone as your driving and see hundreds of calls from your colleagues, the most coming from your husband, Spencer. You decide to call Spencer back as you continue to drive to your destination.

The phone rang once before Spencer picked up. "Y/n, where the hell are you? I've been worried sick!" Spencer scolds you.

"Hey baby, I'm sorry I'm a little preoccupied but I promise you that I'm perfectly safe. You guys working your magic over there?" You ask.

Spencer smiled a little. "Yeah of course, we just got off the phone with Hotch."

"What's that?" You heard Emily ask over the phone.

"Hotch is calling Foyet." Garcia answered.

"Agent Hotchner." Everyone heard Foyet's smug voice through the phone followed by Hotch's.

"If you touch her..."

"Be gentle, like I was with you? What the hell took you so long? I was beginning to think this phone was dead or something."

Hotch was silent.

"Why so quiet?" George asked. "You usually lash out when you're frustrated."

"I'm not frustrated. You're more predictable then you think." Hotch responded.

"Am I?"

"You didn't know where Haley  was, so you made her come to you." Hotch continues.

"You make me sound lazy."

"Just another way for you to show control." He states.

"Oh, that's terrible."

"Your mother tried to protect you from your father, but she wasn't strong enough and you hated her for that, didn't you? You decided that all women were weak."

"Those are your words, not mine."

"What were you, 9 when you killed them?" Hotch asked.

"It was a car accident."

"That you couldn't take credit for. That had to be hard for you. But poor George got another chance. The little orphan was saved by the wealthy, sterile eastside couple, the Foyets. And the story should've ended there."

"I don't believe in fairytales, do you?" George asked.

"That's the thing George. This isn't a fairy tale. You don't have to write this story. You don't have to do any of this. I know you're exhausted, always looking over your shoulder, always wondering when the other shoe is gonna drop. Haven't you gotten what you wanted? You've set yourself apart from anybody else we've ever dealt with. You're not just a famous serial killer, you're The Reaper. We're gonna study you and your methods for years and years."