#deafeningseries

summary — after the crash, you get your diagnosis and suddenly the brief happiness you felt faded into distraught. the team and spencer try everything, but your anger is too strong. meanwhile, spencer struggles with adjusting to being back home.

genre — pure angst + hurt/comfort

cw — hospitals, medical jargon, reader is injured, reader lashes out, possible inaccurate medical terms, car crash, spencer’s ptsd

wc — 1.9k

previous part — next part

Who was shaking you?

At first thought, your mind wandered to Spencer. Were you back at his apartment already? It was the same way he used to wake you up on a lazy morning before placing delicate kisses on your forehead.

Only the shaking got more intense.

Your eyes snapped open.

There was a growing ringing sound coming from somewhere.

Rossi was sat in the drivers seat, blood trickling down his cheek as he shook you to wake you up. Everything was coming back to you now. You weren’t home in bed with Spencer, you had been hit by that truck.

In the meantime, Rossi had managed to climb out of the car, clinging onto the side to hold him up. Lethargically, you checked behind you in the backseat. JJ was climbing out the car, clutching her eye in pain and Stephen . . .

Stephen.

He lay there completely lifeless.

You opened your mouth to say his name, but the ringing only got worse. You pressed your hands to your ears, frantically trying to get out of the car. Once you managed to open the door, you fell to the floor in agony. In the distance you saw another car pull up and a familiar silhouette hop out—Penelope.

She walked ( as fast as she could in her heels ) towards you, helping you up off the floor. The ringing only intensified and the pain began setting in. It felt like somebody was poking sharp, tiny needles over and over in your ears.

You looked to Penelope. She was talking to you, but why couldn’t you hear her? Now that you had come to your senses, you realised something.

You couldn’t hear anything.

No-one talking, no car alarms, not the click-clack of Penelope’s heels . . . nothing.

Just pure ringing.

Everyone looked panicked, checking the cars. It then hit you like a brick. You had seen everyone except Emily.

What the hell happened?

Spencer had just sat for a moment when he got the call. He thankfully had gotten his mother into a temporary home for a few weeks until he could find her somewhere better. His mother living with him tore your relationship apart last time and he swore to himself he wouldn’t let it happen again this time around.

He checked the Called ID and it was Matt. Spencer knew your phone would be off whilst dealing with Scratch, so maybe Matt was giving him an update.

Spencer answered the phone. “Hey, Matt—”

“Spencer, you’ve got to get down to Virginia General. There was a collision on the way to the address.”

“What?” Spencer asked, shooting up from his seat. “Is everyone okay? What happened?”

“Me and Garcia think Scratch hacked into the local frequency and shot spikes out to crash the cars and then drive a truck into them. They all seemed okay—just minor injuries. The ambulances have just taken them all now, but Scratch took Emily,” Matt told him over the phone.

As selfish as it sounded, Spencer couldn’t think about Emily right now. All he could think about was you.

“Okay, I’m heading to the hospital now. You and Garcia keep working, I’ll see what I can get from the rest of the team,” He told him, rushing out of his apartment.

Spencer hung up on him before Matt could say anything else. The whole drive there, Spencer couldn’t stop wondering about you. Matt said minor injuries, but who knows?

As soon as Spencer got into the hospital, you were all rushed in a minute later. The paramedics wheeled you all in on stretchers, calling out to the doctors your condition.

“Hey, hey,” He said to you, stroking your hair as the doctors got you into a room.

“Sp…her,” You mumbled.

“Why is she talking like that?” He asked one of the doctors. “Is there any sign of head trauma?”

“Dr. Reid, you need to let us work,” The doctor told him, directing him out the door.

Spencer watched as the team of doctors started taking vitals and hooking you up to IVs. He couldn’t watch anymore. He turned to find the others. JJ was getting her eye patched up, Rossi and Tara were getting checked over whilst Luke was trying to refuse medical treatment.

Close to an hour went by before somebody approached him.

“Dr. Reid?” The doctor asked, “I’m Dr. Janari. I’m your wife’s Doctor.”

Spencer didn’t bother to correct him—in fact he liked the sound of it.

“I—uh, yes. Is she alright?”

“She has a broken rib, but that’s not what’s worrying us. As a result of the whiplash from the crash, she has hearing loss,” Dr. Janari explained.

“Okay, so that’s why she wasn’t making sense. She can’t hear what she’s saying. Is it temporary?” Spencer asked, trying to hide his worry.

“We don’t think so. However, since it’s not because of nerve or sensory damage she’ll be eligible for hearing aids.”

Spencer swallowed his feelings. If he thought too much about the logistics about deafness and what it’s meant, he wouldn’t be able to stay strong for you.

“D-Does she know?” He asked, nervously.

Dr. Janari shook his head. “We figured it’d be best if somebody she trusted tells her. There’s a whiteboard in there for you already. Just be aware that this is going to be very hard for her to understand, so tread lightly.”

Spencer nodded and thanked the doctor.

How was he meant to explain this to you? Even though Spencer knew that hearing aids would restore your hearing, but who knows how long the waiting list would be for an appointment.

He paced over to your room, watching from the doorway as you look out the window with a frown on your face. As if you knew he was here, you turned to face him.

Spencer waved and smiled. You didn’t do either back.

He grabbed the whiteboard left on the windowsill and pulled the chair in the corner closer to you. You offered him a weak smile, still drowsy from the pain medication to help combat the broken rib. Spencer lovingly pushed your hair out of your face as you reached for the whiteboard and started scribbling on it.

What did the doctor say about my hearing? When’s it coming back?

Spencer sighed. He didn’t want to tell you yet. Despite your defeated look, he could tell you were hanging onto that last bit of hope.

He wiped the board clean and began writing.

How are you feeling? Do you need any more meds?

You snatched the board from his hands.

You’re deflecting. What did he say?

Spencer couldn’t look you in the eye. You knew now. The tears started to fall.

“Is…not..cmn…ba?” You said, although you couldn’t hear it.

Spencer shook his head.

You weren’t crying singular tears anymore, it was the most devastating cry Spencer had ever heard. He instantly cradled your head to his chest, trying to muffle the sound of your pain.

JJ and Luke stood in the hallway, watching from afar.

“I gave her the front seat,” JJ told him, her eyes stuck on you and Spencer.

Luke turned to her. “What?”

“If she wasn’t sat there—”

“You cannot think like that, JJ. It’ll kill you,” He reminded her.

She sighed. “I know.”

“Why don’t you stay with Tara? Matt has something on Emily’s whereabouts so I’m going to head back to the office,” Luke suggested.

“Yeah, okay. Stay safe,” JJ told him.

“I will.”

Luke wasn’t sure what this meant for the team, but he sure as hell knew it wasn’t good.

Spencer stayed by you the rest of the time you were in hospital.

The team had managed to find Emily that same night, but Spencer couldn’t bring himself to go help. You barely looked at him all night and just stared at the wall instead, but that was fine with him. He was just happy you were alive.

Finally, you were allowed to come home. Your appointment to discuss the next steps with your hearing aids wasn’t until two weeks away. It would’ve been closer to four months if you hadn’t gone to a private specialist that Spencer payed for ( that, you didn’t know ).

It’d been a few days since you’d been home and to say you weren’t adjusting well would be an understatement.

And neither was Spencer.

He missed the sound of your voice as selfish as it sounded. In prison, all he heard was yelling and guys’ voices and now his apartment was too quiet without the sound of your voice. Now, he had to turn on taps and the fan just to fill the void in his head.

You weren’t sleeping very much. It was late, nearly 11pm when Spencer decided to try again to coax you to bed.

He sat on the ottoman in front of you and tried to meet your eye-line. Over the past few days he had tried to teach you some basic sign language, but you were reluctant.

Sleep?

You just blinked at him.

Tired?

You didn’t move.

Spencer sighed and ran his hands over his face. He understood this couldn’t be easy for you and he tried to not lose his temper, but prison made his fuse a lot shorter.

“Please,” He said, heavily pronouncing his words so you could try and lip-read, “You have to sleep.”

You turned your head to the side like a child throwing a tantrum. Spencer grabbed the whiteboard next to him and scribbled something down.

Come to bed when you’re ready. Wake me up if you need anything.

You looked down at the board and back at Spencer, completely emotionless. Without another word, Spencer headed to the bedroom. This was your reality over the past few days. Spencer tried to communicate with you and you ignore him.

Around midnight, Spencer felt you climb into bed. He tried to sleep, but knowing you were sat in silence, in pain, in the living room made his heart ache. He felt you very timidly curl yourself closer to him and once you’d settled, Spencer wrapped a loose arm around your waist.

Spencer started to stir at some point in the middle of the night and subconsciously reached for you. Only you weren’t there.

Your absence woke him up immediately. Just as he slipped on his slippers, a crash rang out in his apartment from the bathroom. He shot up and paced over to the bathroom, swinging the door open.

You were laid on the floor in the fetal position, cradling your leg. Scattered pieces of glass were around you with a puddle of water next to you.

“Shit,” He exclaimed, trying to sweep away the glass. “Baby, what happened?”

When you didn’t answer, he was reminded once again you couldn’t hear him.

Spencer used the bath towels to place over the broken glass and lightly touched your arm. You were still getting used to using the vibrations instead of your hearing. You felt the vibrations of Spencer’s footsteps. You knew he was there—you just didn’t care anymore.

The tears started falling as you lay there on the floor. Spencer pulled you into his chest, muffling the sound of your cries.

The glass fell?

You stared intensely at his hands, trying to figure out exactly what he was saying. You nodded.

Glass fell. Didn’t hear it and tripped over.

Whilst your sign language was a bit broken at times, Spencer could understand you. After all, you had a great teacher.

I’m sorry, my love.

Your tears didn’t stop as his words, they only got worse. Was this your life now? Being a nuisance and not being able to do anything by yourself?

When did it end?