#sam 3

But he tried to hide that bitterness. Spencer wouldn't have been shot if he had been there. He would have been the extra set of eyes needed to finish the letters, and they would've worked it out sooner. They would've all been fine, if he had done anything other than frozen when the bullet wedged itself in the wall beside his hair, close enough to make his ear ring painfully. His anger was irrational, and the result of trauma. Everyone else understood his emotions were all-consuming and overpowering, but he didn't. To him, the anger and resentment were just another sign he was becoming his father.

He wasn't. But he would never allow himself to believe that.

Spencer knew that his and Hotch's situations were different. That Hotch blamed himself for what had happened to Haley and to him. That Hotch was hiding how he truly felt, probably to protect him. That things were going to explode sooner rather than later. He just didn't know how much sooner than expected it would end up being.

Rossi had swung by in the morning, and that visit had set Aaron on edge. Rossi was trying to help, he was, but his method of doing it wasn't helpful. It never had been. Not for someone like Aaron, who needed something that was not his best friend telling him how the BAU had been fine without him. Or how the children seemed to be fine. Or how victims could recover.

When Rossi left, Reid took the crutches beside his bed and hobbled over to sit in the chair that he'd vacated. They had both been encouraged to try and be mobile without going beyond their limit. Only Spencer had listened.

"If you want him to stop talking, you can always tell him," he said gently.

Aaron turned away. "He's just trying to help."

"But he's not. I think we can all see it."

"Spencer, I don't know what you're trying to do but-"

"I don't care if you resent me. I care that you're lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Really? So if I asked you whether or not you resent me, you could look me in the eye and say you don't? If I asked you whether you blame yourself for my injury, you would say no, and mean it? If I asked you who was responsible for Haley and Jack going into WitSec, you would say Foyet? If I asked you how you feel, would you say hopeless and angry? Would you?" He snaps.

Aaron stares, and Spencer feels the heat rise to his cheeks. Hotch is still his superior.

"I'm sorry, that was out of line."

"No, it's- you're right. I am lying. But-" he swallows, unused to being so vulnerable, especially with someone like Spencer, "I have to. Lie that is. I can't be honest. Not about this. Not with these feelings."

"Why? You've been put through horrific trauma. I think you're entitled to feel like shit. I feel like crap."

Aaron looks at Spencer, in all his hopeful innocence, and understands the subtle invitation to be honest for once in his life. To let someone else save him. To have a normal conversation, with no ulterior motives or secret conditions. To have someone just care for him because they love him, not because they want anything in return. It's that final realisation that makes him take a leap of faith.

"Because if I let myself feel the anger, I will never stop, and then I will never be any better than my father." The words taste like failure, and he hates himself for saying them as soon as they leave his mouth. Who is he, to do this to a subordinate? To make someone else take responsibility for his issues? He wants to take the words back as soon as realisation dawns on Spencer, but he can't.

All he can do is close his eyes, and pretend he is somewhere else where whatever comes next cannot touch him.

"You know those thoughts don't determine who you are," Spencer says, and nothing about his tone has changed. He still cares about Aaron. Aaron, who has to blink back tears because he always forgets how many terrible things this boy has seen.

He tries to tell Spencer to stop, that he doesn't deserve to be called a good person, but the words won't come.

"I can tell you don't believe me. Well let me tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a FBI agent that panicked so much during their gun qualification that they failed. And the man that had been practicing them, who had every right to lash out, just nodded and asked if it was his fault. If there was anything he could do to help. And then he trusted that agent with his life. Without hesitating," Spencer said. It felt like he was talking to Henry.

Aaron needs him to shut up. He cannot hear this story. It is his life, so he knows how it ends, but he cannot hear that ending right now. Not when the loss of his family is still so raw and painful. Not when it consumes his every waking moment.

"And after the case was over, he raced to the hospital, and he stayed in the waiting room until his son was born because he refused to leave his wife for a second longer than necessary, even though she had given her blessing multiple times for him to go save people. She said that he changed more nappies during his paternity leave than most men do in their lives."

"Spencer-" Aaron manages to say.

"Abused children can break the cycle. They have broken the cycle. They continue to do so. You said that once. Do you remember? You told Vincent Perotta that not every victim goes on to become a killer. Because some grow up to catch them and you are one of them, you just-"

"Shut up! Please. Just shut up." He doesn't mean to shout. He doesn't mean to make Spencer flinch. He doesn't mean to sound angry. He doesn't mean to say the words. He doesn't mean to do any of those things, but he does, and he won't ever forget how terrified Spencer looks.

He did that. He did that, with nothing more than his words, and he cannot believe what he has done, but he has, and it's a terrible thing. And everything Spencer just said has been disproved. Everything.

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispers, turning away.

"No. No, please don't be sorry. You've not done anything wrong. Spencer, look at me. Please. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean-"

"Yes you did. Don't lie to me."

And Aaron has lied about enough. He won't lie anymore.

"I am sorry," he says, even though it won't ever be enough.

Spencer smiles slightly, but then he goes over to his own bed. He closes his eyes, and pretends to sleep. He carries on pretending when Aaron walks over for the first time in three days, and kisses his forehead, much like he always does for Jack. He carries on pretending as Aaron sighs, and whispers an explanation too honest for repetition.