Ever since Y/N joined the bau, Reid has found a way to make her life a living hell. He doesn't understand her nor wants to, not until he overhears a conversation which makes him think otherwise. She isn't a quiet, genius FBI agent, she has problems...
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warnings: panic attack.!
You stood in the crowded subway station, keeping to the side as you waited for Reid to meet you. You asked Prentiss for some time off to see your parents and she gladly let you, a sigh of relief from her end when you called her.
You were uncomfortable leaving work for a couple of days, even under the certain circumstances. You begged Reid to stay behind due to both of the geniuses apart of the BAU leaving- but he wouldn't give in.
You looked around the crowded area, the sound of trains and murmurs booming in your ears. You didn't like being trapped between hundreds of people, it raised your anxiety and your throat would clench up from the lack of oxygen.
You tapped your fingers against your dark jeans, a hum vibrating through your body in efforts to keep yourself calm. You held back the tight feeling around your throat, the excruciating feeling in your stomach as more and more people spewed out of the trains.
You focused on your breathing, on the sounds of your muffled hums, but it wouldn't work. You couldn't breath, you couldn't breath- you had to sit down.
You frantically looked to the right and left of your surroundings, everyone paying no mind to your arising panic attack. You shook in agony, dizziness setting in after a short moment. It was all happening so fast that you didn't even have time to prepare.
Then suddenly you felt a hand around your arm, the same rough, gentle touch gripping the prickling fabric of your sweater.
You turned to look at him, your chest heaving and beads of sweat forming onto your forehead. You didn't want to be there, surrounded by people who you didn't know, people who contained millions and billions of germs. You should've drove, you should've drove.
He placed his hands on your shoulders, his firm touch not working as fast as you wanted it to.
"Breathe, breathe," he said, rubbing his fingers across the material covering your body. "Look at me. Y/N, look at me."
You glanced over at him, your eyes bouncing around behind him to the rust gathering onto the tracks. The place was filthy. It wasn't a place for someone like you, for someone like Reid either.
"You're okay," he pursed his lips, "Breathe with me, okay?" He nodded, his eyes widening, "1- Breathe in."
You breathed in shakily, your breaths still managing to go haywire, your dizziness appearing rapidly. "Breathe out."
You look down to his chest, your ears blocking the sound around you. You only paid attention to the way his chest moved up and down, your breaths syncing in with his after a minute or so.
Even after you began to breathe correctly, your body was still shaking, the sweat that formed on your forehead felt cold against your skin. Not because of the wind that passed as the trains flew by, but because your body fought against being cold and fucking burning during your panic attacks.
