When a vicious and well-connected serial killer escapes from prison with a vendetta against the BAU, Strauss makes the decision to send them away until the FBI can catch him. Fairly new to the team, y/n sees sides of the others she hadn't before - e...
It isn't until hours later that you're able to leave the facility, after sedating Diana and meeting with her doctors. Your mind was all over the place, the words falling from the neurologists mouth going in one ear and out the other. But you weren't there to listen to doctors or make any decisions about treatments. Your job was to be there for Spencer.
It saddens to think of him having to go through things like this alone. Like you, he's an independent person - not necessarily by choice, but he's always made it on his own. Now the two of you have each other to lean on when things get rough, a safety net that promises unconditional love and a warm embrace at the end of the day.
"Hey," Spencer stops in front of his car as you two get ready to leave, opening his arms. You wordlessly engulf him in a hug, ear pressed against his chest firmly enough to hear his pounding heart. He kisses the top of your head, pulling back and whispering. "Thank you."
"Anything for you," you respond. And you mean it.
The car ride home is fairly quiet, the sound of your Mumford and Sons album occasionally eliciting hums from your pursed lips. You keep glancing over at Spencer, his shoulders tense and knuckles white as both grip the steering wheel. He's going to a bad place in his head, you think.
It isn't until the song Beloved drifts through the stereo, the relevance of the lyrics not even hitting you as you sing quietly under your breath. Well how have I not made a note of every word you've ever said? And time is not on our side but I'll pretend that it's alright.
Looking up, you see the tears forming in Spencer's eyes as he continues driving down the quiet road. You turn the radio volume down, placing a hand on his shoulder, inhaling sharply when that only makes the tears fall harder.
"Spence," you say, suddenly worried. "Pull over. Look, there's a parking lot right there. You can't drive like this."
He nods, swerving his car off the road into a pebbled lot, dust flying up around the car. He puts the car in park, instantly falling apart, body wracking sobs falling from his mouth as his head rests against the steering wheel.
Not wanting him to stop letting his emotions out, you don't say anything for a moment, only rubbing his back soothingly and letting tender shushes fall from your lips. He needs to release these feelings. If you speak, he'll try to pull himself together too soon. Let him fall apart.
