The Walls Between Us [ S. R. ]

Chapter 1

A/N- Before you start reading, I just want to say, I have never wrote before. I got this idea and decided why not but please don't judge the awful grammar or misspellings. I wrote this in the notes of my iphone. I really hope you enjoy this story, I had so much fun writing it. It reminds me of a few other stories but it's different in it's own way. I also wanted to add that I wrote this story as if I was the Y/N, just a habit, so the descriptions might not match you, although I barely actually describe the main character. The only thing is the nickname you learn early on. It does play into the story quiet well but it may not match to you at all, just play along to how the story describes it. But please just don't be upset if something doesn't match to you, its just how I wrote it!

Other than that, enjoy it! I had fun writing and I hope you have fun reading!

a/n from about six months after i wrote this- hi again! its been a while. anyways, for my new readers, i just wanted to say this story is one of the many that i hate the most. you can still read it but please dont judge it and leave nasty comments, cause i probably hate i too, but i know how many other people love it and i dont want to take that from them. read with an open mind and know that im not a writer, i wrote for fun. all the love <3

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When you moved to Virginia, you had three weeks until your job began. It was your first time in a city, having spent your whole life living between corn fields, spending all your extra time working the fields for your Grandpa. He ran the farm on his own, and as he approached his 70's, it became harder for him to do it all himself.

But when you told him you wanted to work in criminal justice, he supported you with his all. He wanted you to do something you loved, even if it wasn't on the farm with him. Your brother was there to take over the farm and it was something he enjoyed. So, you took out a student loan, worked your way up the chain, and here you were, a 27 year old woman finally hired by the unit you had your eye on from the start. The unit that would help track down the sickest people in the world, the work you had been doing yourself since you were just young. You had finally been hired to the BAU, taking over the Media Liaison position at Quantico. 

As you turned the key in your new apartment, #223, you set the boxes down on the table inside the door. After two flights of stairs with two heavy boxes, you needed a break. You took a deep breath, smelling the smallest hint of the cleaning products left over from the last person to live there. As you looked around, you saw the basic things the movers had placed in the days before. The couch wasn't centered in the room, so the first thing you did was center it yourself, letting out a small yelp as you dropped it on your toe. From that, you decided you would leave it be for now. The next thing your OCD spotted was the chair and table on the balcony, no where near each other. Who would place two things in a room on the complete opposite side of the other?

As you opened the sliding glass door, you took in the smell of the freshly blossoming flowers and the sight of the cars flashing by a level below. The balcony wasn't large, enough for the chair and the small table the movers decided to string about. You picked up the table and positioned it perfectly in the corner, as close as you could get it to the cement wall that divided you and the person on the other side. After you set the chair down beside it, you decided to look at your view.

As you pushed on the railing you looked to both sides. No matter how close you got to the cement walls, you couldn't see who inhabited the rooms just on the other side. With a sigh, you sat down in the chair you just moved.

That's when it hit you. You has just moved to a new town and you didn't know a single soul. You were starting a new job you had never been involved with and you didn't know how it was going to go, and you had no one to tell these fears to. As you felt a tear stream down your face, you reached your hand up to wipe it away faster then it could fall, and with that sharp intake of air as your hand connected to your face, you heard a door sliding on the other side of the cement wall.

You tried to calm your breathing and quickly. You stood up and headed towards the door before you heard a calm voice coming from the other side,

"Is someone there?" It was a soft voice, sounded like a man, maybe a little older then you are. It radiated a very calming feeling, allowing your breathing to slow again.

"Yeah," you whispered back quietly. You weren't sure if you wanted him to hear you or not. You didnt know who this person was so you had to keep up your walls. It was the only way to stay safe in this world.

"Hey, are you crying?" What were you supposed to say back to that? How could he tell? "I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry. I could just hear it in your voice."

You didn't say anything back.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk to me. I would be weary of a random person asking me the same questions."

Still you stayed quiet, breathing a little louder so he knew you were still there.

"You know, no ones lived in that apartment for a while." You heard the creaking of a chair as he sat, just on the other side of the concrete wall. You sat down too.

"The last person who lived there was a real jerk. It was this old man, he was bitter all the time. He'd be walking up the stairs, with a cain may I add. He said he hated elevators so he had to use the stairs. But he would be carrying groceries, pulling himself up the two flights of stairs by the cain. He wouldn't you the hand rail either, he said it was like training wheels for life." You couldn't help but giggle. The man that the mystery voice was talking about reminded you so much of the grandpa you left at home. He refused to buy machines that were too new, he said the technology was unnecessary.

As you sat reminiscing on the memories of the family you left behind, you heard the quiet voice again. "What's your name... so I know what I can call you?"

"Um... I- I actually don't usually... I don't-" He cut you off as he listened to you stutter.

"Hey, it's okay. I know what its like to be in a brand new city without anyone you know. You don't want to trust anyone so you just keep to yourself. You don't have to give me a real name, or even a name. Do you have a nickname? Just something to put a name to a..." face he was going to say, but as you both looked at the wall between you, you remembered there was no face.

"-to a voice. a name to a voice," You finished his sentence for him.

"Yeah, a name to a voice," he chuckled a bit.

"Actually, you can just call me B."

It was a nickname you grew up with. When you were just little, your Pap put you on honey duty. Obviously you weren't allowed to get near the bees, but you were the one who had to go out to check the boxes were still upright and no animals had got to the honey. He called you Queen B after you continued this for years. When he first said to check on them each day, he thought it would last a couple weeks, just a kid wanting a responsibility, but you grew to like it. The walk to the boxes gave you time to think and once you were old enough to ride the horses out there, the boxes were just along the trail. The tree across from the boxes became your spot. No one knew about it. The only people ever there were you and the horse you told your secrets to. Although B didn't exactly connect to your name, it caught on quick. Your Pap liked having something different to call you and your brother liked having a name he could make fun of, so by the time you were 10, no one but school friends called you your real name.

"B... hmm." He played with the way the simple letter slipped off his tongue. "Is there a story behind that? Or is it the first letter of your name? Could be Bella? Briana maybe?"

"No, neither, just what caught on," you told him. You feared the judgment of the real story so you chose to leave it at that.

"Well, you can call me Spencer. I've delt with enough people in this world that I can tell I can trust you with my name."

You felt bad, you still didn't know if you could trust him quite yet. You had no clue who you were talking to, just hoping it would be someone you could trust.

Just hoping it was someone you could say was your friend.