Fine Line [ spencer reid x reader ] ✔️

TWENTY

warnings: mentions of drug use/drug addiction

Spencer stares at his father through the one-way glass, his brows scrunched together. Morgan and Rossi, of course, had caught on to what he was trying to do in Vegas, so the two of them stayed to help Spencer out and get to the bottom of what really happened to Riley Jenkins and Gary Michaels—the man who they think killed Riley. But Spencer isn't so sure.

His father is involved, somehow. Spencer still thinks his father killed Riley Jenkins, but Rossi and Morgan aren't so sure.

"You still think he did it, don't you?"

Spencer doesn't remove his eyes from his father. "Why shouldn't I?"

"Well, for one thing, Gary Michaels fits the profile. For another, he fled town right after Riley's murder." Morgan's voice is calm. "He's a better suspect than your dad, Reid."

"He's a convenient one." Spencer's eyes narrow, his brows scrunched together. "Someone slipped a file under my door, Morgan. What am I supposed to think?"

"Maybe they're trying to help," Rossi says.

"Maybe they're trying to protect him," Spencer counters.

"You're talking about someone helping to cover up the murder of a child. Who would do that?"

Spencer thinks for a moment. "Do you remember how resistant Detective Hyde was when I asked him to bring in my father?"

"So, what, you're accusing a cop now?" Morgan asks.

"It was a police file."

"It was a very old police file. Anybody could have accessed it."

"He told me to go back to the Fountain View, have a drink by the pool, and think about things," Spencer rebuttals, his annoyance growing with each second.

"You can't possibly still be mad about that."

"I'm not mad, I'm confused." Spencer shakes his head. "I never told him we were staying at the Fountain View." Spencer brushes past Morgan, heading into the interrogation room, standing in front of his father for a moment before sitting down. "How did the blood get on the clothes?"

His father is silent, staring at Spencer, his face void of emotion. Spencer sighs, leaning forward in his seat.

"It's a simple question. How did the blood get on the clothes?"

"I told you, I'm not going to talk without council," William responds.

"If you don't have anything to hide, you don't need a lawyer," Spencer explains.

"Spencer, please. I'm not stupid." Spencer just stares at his father, his gaze unwavering. "I'm proud of you, you know that?"

"I'm not stupid, either," Spencer says, his voice a smidge condescending.