White Lies ✓

7 - Setbacks

*Knock, knock, knock.*

"Spencer?" You called, leaning against his apartment door. "We're gonna be late." Waiting a few minutes, you knocked again. "Spencer?"

It wasn't like him to sleep in. Nine times out of ten, he was your alarm clock, waking you up an hour before work just to sit silently in your apartment, judging you and ignoring you at the same time. This morning, however, Spencer was nowhere to be seen. You'd dressed quickly once you realized you'd slept in, throwing on a pair of black slacks and a green sweater, with a white-collar peeking out of the neck. You'd swung your bag over your shoulder and took the stairs up to Spencer's apartment two at a time. Now, you were waiting impatiently at the door, wondering what was taking the 'Boy Wonder' (as Garcia liked to call him) so long to get up.

"You've got two more minutes." Tapping your foot against the floor, you tried Spencer's doorknob again. You checked your phone and realized you were very running late. "Okay, I'm leaving, and I'm telling Hotch on you." Hesitating by the door for one more second, there was no sound coming from inside. You shrugged to yourself as you walked down the staircase and out of the apartment, climbing into your car and starting the drive to work.

Hotch is going to kill me.

Parking quickly in the garage, you jogged to the elevator. It couldn't move fast enough, and you nervously waited behind the doors, not wanting to disappoint your boss. You rushed out of the elevator and into the conference room, interrupting JJ's briefing. Sitting there, in his usual seat, was Spencer.

What the hell.

"I'm so sorry Hotch." You said, sitting in the only available seat. "Traffic got me." You tried catching Spencer's eye, but he refused to look at you.

"It's okay, everyone's allowed to be late. Once." He responded nodding at you.

You blushed slightly as you settled into your seat and listened to JJ's case. Morgan slid you the file from across the table, and you opened it to a set of bloody crime scene photos. "We've got four engaged couples dead in Pocatello, Idaho. The women are strangled with a foreign object, the M.E said its most likely some type of rope. The men are all shot with a revolver. They're both left in the bed, but evidence shows that they're killed somewhere else in the house. The kills are accelerating, so Pocatello P.D is requesting our help." You looked down at the file in front of you, cringing slightly at the images.

Jesus.

The crime scene was something else. The whole house was in absolute disarray. Books were yanked off of the shelves, drawers emptied. The refrigerator was completely empty, food thrown around the kitchen. Every single room in the house was absolutely destroyed, except for the bedroom. It looked as if the unsub had cleaned after committing the murders, making the bed over the bodies and tidying up the room. Hotch interrupted your thoughts.

"Wheels up in twenty."

The team trickled out of the room, leaving to gather their belongings. You stalled in the conference room, waiting until you and Spencer were the only two around. "What happened this morning?" You asked, "I waited for you."

Spencer brushed you off. "I didn't need a ride." He said bluntly, not meeting your gaze.

"Okay, but why didn't you tell me?" You asked. He still refused to look at you, instead, he busied himself with organizing the files in front of him. "Spencer."

Still ignoring you, Spencer merely shrugged before slipping out of the room, leaving you alone with your confusion. You followed him out and stopped at your desk, grabbing a few things and tucking them into your go bag before heading towards the tarmac with the team. After the elevator ride, you crossed the hot pavement and climbed the stairs to the jet entrance. The air conditioning was blasting in the cabin of the jet, sending a small chill down your spine. eyeing him across the plane, you strode over and sat quickly next to Spencer before he could complain.