THE MIDNIGHT RAIN

The morning sun spilled through the gaps in the curtains, casting stripes of light across the tangled mess of blankets in your bed. You blinked groggily, your eyes heavy and puffy from too little sleep and too many regrets. As you rubbed the remnants of last night from your eyes, your phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a string of missed calls. Four from your ex, two from his best friend. A dull ache settled in your chest—a reminder of things you’d just rather forget.

You groaned, realizing you had returned none of them. Not that you had the time, or the patience. Rolling out of bed, an overwhelming wave of yesterday’s choices washed over you; you reeked of sweat and something faintly reminiscent of cheap wine. Your gaze flicked to the clock on the wall—12:30. Oh shit. You were late.

With an urgency you hadn’t felt in days, you scrambled to gather yourself, moving your hair out of your face as you stumbled towards the bathroom, your heart racing along with the consequences of your procrastination.

you stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in an effort to shake off the fog of last night. the cool rush did little to calm your racing heart as you hastily brushed your teeth, already scanning the small space for something—anything—that was clean to wear.

just as you reached for a shirt that suspiciously looked like it might’ve been worn yesterday, your phone buzzed again. the caller id read “mrs. henderson,” one of your students' moms. with a sigh, you answered, knowing you had no choice.

“hello, mrs. henderson,” you greeted, trying to inject some cheer into your voice.

“yes, ma’am,” you replied, wincing at the urgency in her tone. “yes, i am on my way right now, stuck in traffic.” you glanced at the clock again; the minutes were slipping away.

as you hurriedly threw on a wrinkled pair of pants, you glanced out the window and noticed the swarm of cars barely inching along. your frustration bubbled over, and without thinking, you shouted toward the street, “come on! move it already!”

“ugh, you know how it goes during rush hour,” you continued to mrs. henderson, half-exasperated and half-amused at your own antics. “yes, almost there, buh bye!” you ended the call with a shaky laugh, shaking your head at the chaos of your morning.

with adrenaline pumping and a mounting sense of urgency, you quickly pulled a sweater over your head, choosing to ignore the wrinkles. tugging on your shoes, you grabbed your bag and took one last look in the mirror. you could only hope today wasn’t a complete disaster—and that you wouldn’t have to dodge any more frantic phone calls.

you got out of your car and parked in guest parking, the summer sun pouring through the window, painting the seats in golden hues. instead of lounging on a beach somewhere, sipping piña coladas and listening to the sound of gentle waves, you were stuck in summer school with one specific student. your friends were sharing stories of tropical adventures while you were grading notes on multiplication and grammar. it wasn’t that the student was a bad kid; in fact, she had been a solid performer until the semester began to slip away from her. she was bright but had a stubborn streak that kept her from doing anyone else’s work, that is, until she met you, ms. [l/n]. the school administration figured that since you had built such a great rapport with her, why not sacrifice a little vacation time to help ensure the girl wouldn’t flunk? and if they thought you were just going to say yes because you felt bad... then yeah, they were right. god you hated teaching summer school.

as you arrived and, rushed down the hall, you hit the button for the elevator, tapping it with increasing impatience as the minutes slipped away. the elevator door stood stubbornly closed. you groaned and hit the button again and again, tapping it with a combination of desperation and frustration.

“having trouble?” a voice chimed from behind you. you turned to see a tall figure walking toward you, his frame around six feet tall, effortlessly commanding the small space. he had tousled dark hair, and his cheekbones were high and defined, complemented by a slight smile. his eyes were a striking shade of hazel, an unusual mix that seemed to shift with the light. he wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated his lean frame, paired with dark suit pants. he looked almost too perfect—a professor-type, but a bad one. like someone who could educate you on the theory of relativity and then do things to you you would never forget.

“uh, yeah. it won't budge,” you admitted, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you briefly noted how attractive he was. he approached the elevator panel and swiftly pressed the actual button—of course, the one you had been mashing fruitlessly. the elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and you stepped inside, feeling a mix of gratitude and intrigue.

“thank you,” you said, glancing at him as the doors closed. you stood next to each other in the cramped space, and you couldn’t help but eye him curiously. he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, occasionally looking down at his hands. you couldn’t figure out why he was so quiet, but you didn’t dwell on it for long; your focus was on arriving to the door.

as the elevator hummed its way to your destination, you noticed the number flashing above the door. to your surprise, you were headed to the same floor. just as you reached it, you both instinctively moved toward the door at the same time.

“oh, after you,” he offered, his voice smooth and lightly teasing. your heart raced again, not just from the sense of urgency but also from how charming his laugh was. you couldn't help but notice the way it seemed to echo around you, making you want to hear it again.

“no, please. after you,” you insisted in return, and you both found yourselves caught in an awkward dance, both trying to let the other go first, unable to decide who should step out first.

“after you,” he repeated, laughter dancing in his voice, and just like that, you nodded, cheeks slightly warm, before stepping out of the elevator. as you walked past him, you felt the warmth of his presence lingering, and that laugh—oh, God if you weren't so late right now...

you sat across from your young student at the small kitchen table, surrounded by a mix of colorful worksheets, pencils, and books. The late afternoon light poured in through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. The little girl diligently worked on her times tables, the crinkled paper a testament to her determination.

As you glanced occasionally at her progress, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfillment. Teaching had its challenges, but moments like these reminded you why you loved it. You caught yourself smiling—genuine, unfiltered joy spilling over as the girl successfully rattled off another multiplication fact. but you also caught yourself remembering the tall man in the elevator, you smirked to yourself even more.

In a moment of concentration, she looked up and noticed. “You’re smiling a lot!” she blurted out, her eyes wide with curiosity. You chuckled softly, caught off guard by her observation. “I guess I am,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

“My neighbor down the hall works for the FBI,” she announced with an important air. Her youthful confidence was contagious. “He’s a profiler or something, and he says that when someone’s smiling a lot, it means that something happened to make them happy.”

“Yeah, I saw something that made me happy alright,” you said lighter than you intended, before a wave of realization washed over you. maybe that wasn’t... appropriate to say in front of a fourth grader. Your mind raced as you searched for a safe response.

“What does that mean?” She asked, you stammered and stuttered and asked. “Well, uh-- Hey would you look at that its almost time for me to go.” She looked at you curiously, clearly pondering what you’d said. There was a peculiar wisdom in her gaze, and you quickly ushered her away.

After a final glance around the apartment, you slipped on your coat and grabbed your bag, feeling the familiar excitement of stepping out into the bustling world again. The hallway felt cozy as you made your way to the elevator, your footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft chiming sound, you stepped inside, your mind drifting to thoughts of your next tutoring session and the plans you had for the weekend. Just as the doors were about to close, they jolted back open, and a man stepped in—tall, with tousled dark hair and a warm smile that lit up his face. He glanced over at you, and you instinctively looked up, catching his gaze. In that moment, time seemed to stand still amid the commotion of your lives outside.

A smile broke across your face, a soft, inviting expression that mirrored his own. And without thinking, you spoke up, "You came in this morning, but you're leaving this afternoon." you said, without thinking. It sounded creep to me, but he understood what I meant. He nodded, "Yeah my job it uh-- I work for the uh-- Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI." your jaw drops, and he looks, but not limited to, concerned. "Is everything--" "Yeah its just uhm, funny enough my student, I think she was talking about you today-- I teach, so," you mutter out, letting out a breathy laugh.

"She 'profiler..ed'? me, I guess. I was smiling and she knew that something happened this morning to make me smile. She said she got it from you," he looked in complete and udder awe as he let out a chuckle. he nodded, then thinking for a bit. The elevator dinged, and instead of parting ways there, you guys walked the parking lot together. "Anderson? The little one," He said, making the motion with his hand to the side of his hip. You nodded your head in agreement. "Yeah she's really bright," he adds with a smile.

You agree with him, and look at him with curiosity in your eye. "Why were you smiling this morning?". The question lingers through the air, as he gives that laugh, that laugh, that he gave this morning that you almost risked everything for, filling the silence.

"You were staring, really hard." You feel your whole world shatter in embarrassment as those five words escape his lips, you laugh out of complete shock and horror as he can't help but begin to join you out of response to your reaction. "It's okay, it was just funny. Plus, I was too.". You let that stay in the air for a bit— those gorgeous hazel eyes looking down into yours, you smiled. And that's all you did. He walked you to your car, making sure you got there safely. And before he could walk off to his own, you spoke out. "Hey would you— happen to have a card? Just incase I wanna talk to you about, profiling or, the right buttons on the elevator." You say, realizing how stupid that sounding coming out. But he didn't think so, not at all. "Or incase I just wanna, talk to you..." Your voice fading out as he walked back over to you. Spencer Reid.

"I'll be expecting a call from you, you know. About, the right buttons on the elevator." He smiled, chuckling out. You nodded your head. 'will do...' you thought to yourself as you turned the engine on, letting the rumbling of your car fill your ears for a moment.

oh thank, God, to being late.

the door swung open with a soft chime as spencer and you stepped into a nightclub, the smell of sweat, expensive cologne and tobacco only deepened the overall experience for both you and spencer. you hold his hand close so he wouldn't get lost, you glanced over at spencer, who looked a little nervous yet excited. his dark hair fell into his eyes, and the corners of his mouth twitched up in a faint smile as he scanned the room. “Is this even legal?” he questions -- looking at the excessive smoke being blown, you turn to him and stare him down. “are you a cop?”

“I'm an-- I'm an agent.”

“Oh. then yes. yes it is.” you nodded your head in affirmation and led the way to a small table tucked into a corner. the soft hum of conversation wrapped around you like a blanket, pulling you both into the moment. spencer settled into a plush seat, and you took his lap as a seat instead. “how's twenty-eight treating you so far spencie?”

“same as twenty-seven.” he says, sneaking a quick glance at your chest as you get comfortable on his legs, his arm wrapping around your waist. a bottle girl soon came over with a line of shots and a long line of blunts, that you wasted no time rolling up. spencer picked up a cup of water, to which you paused and swiftly took it of his hand replacing it with one of the minuscule glasses. “Nah nah nah, we are not doing this shit tonight.” you ordered, leaning in as he stopped your hand from moving any further.

Spencer tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “[y/n], hydration is crucial for cognitive function? The human brain is about 75% water, and—”. you stopped listening as soon as he mentioned a percentage. “Right… right… wow really?” you interjected, your excitement rising as you poured a shot of something colorful in front of you. He continued, oblivious to your movements “Studies suggest that even mild dehydration can impair attention and short-term memory, which is fascinating because—”

As he rambled on, you raised your shot glass, your eyes fixed on his. “Damn, that's so crazy.” you said, nodding along while pouring another shot. Finally, you leaned in closer, a grin spreading across your face as you shoved a the liquor in between his lips, playfully interrupting his thoughts. He spluttered for a moment, a surprised look on his face, but you could tell he was fighting back a smile. His eyes widen and jaw falls open as he stares up at you, the back of his throat tingling -- “I could´ve choked,”

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Okay then,” you said, lighting a gram and putting it between your lips. you didn't even try getting him with the tobacco, you weren't dumb. as the night went on, spencer seemed more and more interested. you mostly danced with guys while more of your friends came and joined you, as well a few members of him team. he introduced you to some of them, and some of them you were already familiar with from other nights you went out with spence. you didn't expect spencer to have much fun at a strip club, but a lap dance can really make you feel anything can't it?

you danced with a few strangers, a few of his friends -- but the whole night you mostly hung around him, sitting on his lap while he played cards with one of his older colleagues rossi, your head on his chest while you passed the blunt with derek and your best friend claire, who was... flirting with derek. eventually, the question emerged and you both were asked twice in the same night, “how long have you been together?”. you both gave each other a strange look and stared back at the dark haired woman who held poker cards in her hand, emily was it? “We're not-- ew, no.” you blurted out, receiving a hurt look from spencer. he was a little too buzzed to be that affected by it, though, “ew?”

“no offense,” you gave him a soft peck on the cheek while derek and rossi both laughed, you laughed along with them as the night went on but eventually with the repeated glances you knew something was up. “whats so funny?” you asked. “you haven't got off him since we got here,” the dark-skinned man pointed out, and he was right. and he was going to stay right, shit, he was comfortable. you and spencer were strictly friends, who have happened to go to the bone zone like once or twice.

sure, you made out with him a few times but that was for practice. and maybe you offered to get him off and he took you up on it on one or two instances but he also denied a few times so it canceled out. point is, you and spencer reid? never gonna happen.

after a while, the conversation changed and you guys were in a intense game of truth or dare, you were chewing on appetizers with your eyes glistened and low, giggling as spencer softly rubbed your arm, whispering jokes into your ear. derek spoke up while button his pants after a dare to let a random girl in the bar have his belt, “emily -- i dare you to go a kiss anyone in the room right now,”

she giggled, to which she happily complied “watch me!” she called, strutting toward the other end of the room, leaving a messy, long, and incredibly hot kiss on the lips of claire. her cheeks flushed, a triumphant smile spread across her face. “i did it!” she exclaimed, a sparkle in her eyes. while claires jaw was dropped -- the room went silent before bursting into laughter, spencers cheeks turning red with humor and derek literally falling on the floor bawling.

the pick then came towards you, and rossi looked at both you and spencer with a grin, “i dare you -- eight minutes, dancefloor, with reid,” receiving childish “ooo”'s throughout the room before it fell silent and reid looked at you with embarrassment.

“i dont-- uh, usually--” before spencer could finish your sentence, you hopped up from him lap, and pulled him up, receiving claps from everyone sitting around the table. you pulled him into the middle of the room where the music was at the loudest, and everyone in the club was dancing around you. spencer's eyes avoided yours and you could tell something was up, “whats wrong?” you questioned,

“i dont know, i dont know how to dance!” he exclaimed, loud enough so you could hear over the other voices. you snickered, “don't worry bout that spence, i got something for you.” you begun turning your back towards him as you guided his hands to your waist, reaching for the back of his neck as you slowly and smoothly moved your hips against his crotch, to which spencer yelped, holding your waist close.

with each sway, you tried different angles, shifting your weight from one hip to the other, creating a rhythm that felt almost like a conversation. you leaned back a little closer, allowing your body to brush against him, your movements contrasting between bold and gentle.

you adjusted your position, allowing you to turn your head to face him him momentarily, letting your hips dance in a teasing arc that drew him deeper into the moment. You could feel the tension between you both, a mix of nerves and excitement, plus a little bit off fuzziness thanks to the alcohol.

finally, you pulled away just a bit, giving him space to join in. You gestured encouragingly, your body still swaying gently in front of him. spencer hesitated for a second before attempting to mimic your movements, his awkwardness offering a charming contrast to your f grace. And as he awkwardly swayed, you couldn’t help but laugh, the sound ringing out joyfully in the lively atmosphere. spencer stared at your body in shock, his hands moving from you waist to your hips as looked down, moving his hips along with yours the best he could. “there you go spence,” you laughed out, the rigid and coarse movements grinding against your body, but hey -- he was trying his best.

fifteen seconds.

you turned your body towards him, your hips still moving as his hands draped down towards you lower back,

“Happy twenty-eight, spencie.” you leaned in, drunkenly coming in contact with his lips as your tongue embraces his, a fleeting moment, but felt like it lasted a lifetime. “Way better than twenty-seven..” he whispered, as you laughed and he lifted you up and turned you back around, to which you continued to whine your hips against him.

you and spencer reid? never gonna happen…

You and Spencer had been privately dating for seven months. At first, it was exciting. sneaking around, leaving parties early to go hook up in the bathroom, the birthday sex, apology sex, apology for apologizing with sex sex, it was easy, it was simple—you both met through a party he and his team was invited to by your best friend Ciara, who was friends with the one and only Penelope Garcia. you both got to talking and by the end of the night, you were snuggled up in his bed with his dick in your mouth. and he learned two things that night. 1. he had never had head that brought him so much ecstasy. and two, by the way your outgoing demeanor fit perfectly with being his more shy and non-direct, you were the one for him and he would've been a fool to let you slip through his fingers. those late-night study sessions, stolen kisses in dimly lit hallways, and quiet moments over coffee made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. but the moment that you hit the three month mark, everything went downhill. and usually, at six months, its supposed to be good again, right? wrong.

the past few months had turned into a whirlwind of arguments. It felt like every time you talked, it spiraled into a fight over something that should have been minor. “You don’t understand what I’m going through, Spencer!” you yelled one evening after a tough day at work where he seemed more focused on the case than on how you were feeling. “I do, understand [y/n] I just don't care. Not everything has to be about you.” that night, you both had shouted over each other until the early hours of the morning, hearts racing, voices raised, and emotions running high. the tension felt suffocating. and to ease it you tried to have makeup sex, and he started an argument while literally inside you because he felt like you were faking orgasms and doing it in a obvious way to make him feel bad; you were.

It wasn’t just work stress that fueled the fire; it was the pressure of hiding your hardships relationship from your colleagues, the weight of lying to your friends, and the constant fear of him leaving. and the fear of you leaving for him only made him resent you more. sometimes, it felt like you were living a double life, and you didn’t know how to bridge the gap between your love for Spencer and the isolation that secrecy brought. the make-up moments after the fights were fleeting, filled with hugs and quiet apologies as you tried to mend the shaky ground you were standing on. you’d find yourselves wrapped in each other’s arms, promises lingering in the air that things would change, but deep down, you both knew nothing had really shifted.

but today, everything felt heavier than usual. you had woken up to yet another silent treatment from spencer, both of you too stubborn to reach out to each other first. the anxiety had burrowed deep in your chest, making it hard to breathe. you could sense it—Ciara had noticed. when she came over, she was met with a hurried and agitated spence who only muttered a cold greeting before walking out the door as fast as he opened it for her. her footsteps where light and quick, making her way towards your bedroom where she heard retching and coughing.

you spit into the toilet bowl, groaning in discomfort as everything you had last week came back to haunt you. you looked up at Ciara as she held your hair back, getting her fingers tangled as she took a moment to try her best to untangle them without scalping you. You sat there in front with your head down as you dry gagged, and once you were safe, you reached up and flu shed the toilet.

Ciara rubbed your back for a little before pulling your head to rest on her chest, planting sweet kisses on your forehead. you giggle at the sensation and make tsk sounds. “If you were a man,” you muttered, to which she rolls her eyes at you and lets you go with a smile, helping you stand up, she runs some water so you pat your mouth with it and spit out all the yucky residue left over. she starts asking questions and all you can think back at was this morning. it pained you and you felt your heart sink the more you thought back at it, you realize that him expressing his feelings, yelling, insulting, or even cursing you would've been better. he just left you, in silence. he didn't acknowledge you, and it just made you feel terrible. you looked at Ciara, overcome with emotions which got you a confused look. “What's going on with you--”

“He didn't even look at me, cee.” You muttered as tears filled your eyes uncontrollably. your emotions overwhelmed you as you melted into her arms, you were holding her incredibly tight, she probably wouldn't be able to breathe if you gave her an oxygen tank. She scrambled over her words trying to find away to not pass out from the lack of blood going to her brain because you were quite literally blocking any blood flow possible. She tapped your back and you released your death grip, to which she exhaled heavily.

“Who, What? What are we talking about?”. you stared up at her with a expression of depression, not moving your lips to answer her question. It gave her the answer alone. “That's not... like him.”. Scoffing, you shook your head and wiped your tears, your mood switching from self-pity to pure and undeniable anger. “It's exactly, like him. Actually.”. She tried her best to calm you down but you couldn't, you just walked out of the bathroom and fell face first on the bed, screaming and letting out all of your frustration on his cotton sheets. You started mumbling out of intense anger, and Ciara just stood there, flinching with every curse that flew through your lips as if you were going to reach backwards and bite her.

It took you twenty-and-some minutes to calm down. It took you three to go back to being sad and depressed. Your mood swings were seriously giving her whiplash. You sat up and heaved, sobbed, flew your arms around like a toddler. Ciara sat with you and let you sob on her chest until you start hyperventilating, she blew on your face so you could catch your breathe, shushing you to soothe your tears. Your brain felt fuzzy, your senses has softened.

The only thing that you felt was the immense pounding on your head you couldn't help but feel. “How about we go on a little drive, yeah?” you looked up at her with your red eyes glistening was a tear fell down your cheek, you nodded. you needed fresh air. “Yeah?” She spoke in a soft voice, kissing your head. “Alright go put on some clothes ill be out here,”

Ciara sat behind the wheel, the engine humming softly as she pulled away from spencer's place. The cool breeze wafted through the slightly open window, sending a refreshing shiver through you. You let it wash over you, momentarily grounding you in the present. Still, your mind felt fuzzy, caught in a haze that blurred your thoughts and emotions. It was as if you were floating, untethered from reality, with everything around you blurring into a muddled backdrop.

the streets rushed by, and while the world outside was alive with the chatter of people and the vibrant colors of storefronts, you found yourself lost in your own silence. You stared at the trees lining the road, their branches dancing in the breeze, but even their movement felt distant and out of reach. each passing moment felt like an echo, reverberating through your mind but leaving no traces of clarity.

Ciara’s was talking, filled with energy and it made you feel oh, so worse because you were not listening. “No, dude, I'm being so serious. I told her that she can either get her shit together and stop acting like a little kid or she can pack her shit and leave because I've had enough crazy girlfriends to know it is not for the fucking weak.” you barely registered the words. they floated in one ear and out the other, your focus remaining hazy. you shifted in your seat slightly, trying to push the swirling emotions away, yet they clung to you like a shadow.

“You’d think we were fighting we were fighting over me burning her house down, no. A miss call, a singular miss call and I called her back immediately. And of course, she chose to get her act together because... honestly, would you leave me?” she joked, grinding in her seat to pop her ass a little;

the corners of your mouth twitched, but you didn’t have the energy to respond; the effort felt monumental. As the scenery shifted from commercial buildings to the broader expanses of the mall, you caught yourself wishing you could feel that lightness again. The breeze slipping through the window felt nice, but every now and then, a wave of discomfort coursed through you, reminding you of the things you were trying to forget.

Ciara continued talking, sharing the latest gossip, her voice a steady stream of sound that mingled with the whoosh of passing cars. “and after that, she tried to hookup with me as an “apology”. if she could lick my pussy a couple times and I'm going to immediately forgive her... she's right.”

Still, you remained silent, lost in thought. The feelings swirling within you were too tangled to unravel—the confusion, the sadness, the weight of it all. It felt heavy, and as you drove closer to the mall, the world outside turned brighter, but for you, it remained shrouded in dimness.

As Ciara pulled into the parking lot, the chaotic colors of the mall surrounded you. She parked the car, casting a glance your way. “Alright, no talk of Spencer with the little dick while we're here alright?”

You nodded slowly, but your mind was still a storm of thoughts and emotions that had yet to settle. The sounds of laughter and footsteps filled the air as you stepped out of the car, but even amidst the noise, you felt like you were still floating, caught between what was real and what was just a distraction.

“There's no reason to lie to make me feel better,”, she laughed.

as you and Ciara stepped into the mall, the vibrant atmosphere enveloped you like a cocoon, yet the comfort it should have provided seemed out of reach. the air hummed with energy: laughter echoed against polished floors, the shuffling of bags blended into an excited chorus, and the enticing aromas of popcorn, pretzels, and fried food wafted through the space, each scent calling to a desire for comfort that you just couldn’t find.

you glanced around, taking in the kaleidoscope of people—the families with cheerful children, groups of friends chatting animatedly as they moved, and couples entwined in conversation. Yet, as the cheerful masses moved past, a heavy discontent settled within your chest, a constant nagging feeling that wouldn’t let up. Your thoughts were tangled, fighting the urge to not talk about spencer.

the urges whooped your ass.

“Ugh, I can’t believe how dramatic Spencer has been lately,” you began, shaking your head as you ambled towards the escalator up to victoria's secret each step feeling heavier than the last. You reached for a sleek top on a nearby rack, your fingers brushing the fabric as you stated, “He didn't even tell me what his problem was this time, Ciara. He's like a fucking kid,”

Ciara nodded, her attention shifting between you and the vibrant clothes on display. “He's exactly like Manny. You know if you were a lesbian, I'm pretty sure you would've been with her by now.”

"Har-har." you let out a fake laugh, pulling the top closer to you and inspecting it in the harsh fluorescent lights. “and its not like I don't fuck with him. Of course I do, but its only okay when I do it! and i never do it first.”

She stared at you.

“Okay, I mostly never do it first.”

you stepped into the fitting rooms, pulling aside the curtain with a little more force than necessary. Ciara leaned against the wall outside, concern evident in her eyes. “Well, it sounds like he’s really going through something. I mean the last time he had a girlfriend was years ago, plus she did get shot in front of him. Maybe, just maybe... he needs time to adjust to having you.”

“It's been 6 months, how much time does he need.” you admitted, slipping into a pair of jeans. “I’m trying to support him, but at the same time, it feels like whenever I need support I'm the 'crazy' one.”

you spun in front of the mirror, checking the fit, and briefly appreciated the outfit, but the satisfaction was fleeting. You couldn’t shake the gnawing frustration and worry that lingered in your mind. After trying on a few more items, you settled on a cozy sweater that draped nicely over your shoulders and a pair of jeans that tugged your ass and thighs perfectly.

Stepping out of the fitting room, you caught sight of Ciara’s bright smile—a thumbs-up that fueled a flicker of confidence despite the dark cloud of your thoughts. “You look great! Food?” she chirped, her enthusiasm piercing through your fog. “I look like I got fat, but, yes.” you giggled.

“Yeah, only in the right places.” she replied, leaving a quick smack on your ass. the idea of food felt foreign to you, your appetite making you uneasy. and the more you thought about it, you weren't really prone to gaining weight. in the last eight weeks, you've gained almost seven pounds. even as you walked toward the food court, the excited chatter and laughter felt like a cruel reminder of the happiness you were struggling to hold onto with Spencer.

as you navigated through the chaos of the food court, the aromas wrapped around you, each scent competing for your attention. You scanned the options—pizza, burgers, Asian stir-fry, sizzling hot dogs—but as much as your stomach wanted to respond, it remained cold and distant.

Ciara and you eventually settled on a plate of asian food. You found a table, and despite the enticing food in front of you, the heaviness in your chest pulled you down, dimming your appetite further.

while Ciara was talking about her sex life, your own thoughts lingered on Spencer: his hands, the way his mind worked like a finely tuned machine, how he would

“when I tell you she had me bent in ways I can't say out loud because I would be put on some kind of list--” Ciara’s words finally broke through the fog in your mind, and you looked at her, your voice barely above a whisper, “I feel… weird.”

Ciara’s smile faded, concern etching itself across her face. “What do you mean weird? ”

The discomfort swelled inside you as the weight of your stomach pressed down further. “I don’t know. It’s just everything… ugh. I really don’t feel good.” The admission felt heavy on your tongue, yet fear flooded through you, mingling with confusion and anxiety.

“Hey, [y/n] uh--” Ciara said, her voice laced with concern as she leaned closer, trying to draw you back into the moment. “Breathe, okay? Just uh--”

her voice did no help, the world around you began to tilt, the bright lights and laughing voices tuned out as your vision began to blur. A rising wave of dizziness crashed over you, swallowing every sense until you felt on the verge of vanishing into the void of darkness.

before you could utter another word, the world slipped away in an instant—darkness encased you, quieting the chaos of the food court and pressing down into a silence that felt weighty yet freeing. You couldn’t tell if you were floating or falling, but nothing remained except an overwhelming absence -- and then your body hit the floor.

“[y/n]? [Y/N]! Someone help, please!” Ciara begged and yelled out as she breathed on your face, checking your pulse. you were breathing, that's all that mattered. being in school for nursing, really wasn't doing her any justice at the moment.

three-hundred-thirty-eight minutes. that's how long it took for you to wake up.

you gradually regained consciousness to the muted buzz of light and occasional distant sounds filtering through the haze of your mind. blinking several times, you squinted against the warm, yellow light spilling through the curtains in the hospital room. the glow felt too harsh against your eyelids, and as you turned your head slightly, a wave of dizziness swept over you.

a sharp ache spiked through your temples, and you instinctively raised a hand to your forehead, feeling the softness of the pillows beneath you. your body felt heavy, soreness settling deep in your muscles—each small movement sent prickles of discomfort shooting through your limbs. you groaned softly, the sound a mere whisper in the stillness of the room.

The room itself was a comforting chaos, the machines beeping, the flowy blue curtains. But it was the smell that truly caught your attention: a mix of treacle sweetness from ciara's half-eaten candy bar on the nightstand, which you grabbed over and took a chunk out of. the clean scent of freshly laundered sheets, and just a hint of the medication. it was oddly grounding, and for a moment, it eased the nausea rising in your stomach like a tidal wave.

taking a deep breath, you lay still, attempting to collect your thoughts. fragments of memory flickered through your mind—little moments of laughter and joy interspersed with the anxiety that had been consuming you before everything went dark. You remembered the bustling vibe of the mall, the annoying feeling of your heart racing, and a sudden wave of dizziness that had pulled you down. panic surged through you as you recalled Ciara’s frantic voice, calling for help when you collapsed.

“there's, no way I actually fainted.” you murmured to yourself, the thought sending a shiver down your spine. “ew, that's so corny.” you felt a flush of heat creep up your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and concern. you turned to ciara, whose face was unchanged the entire time. her face stayed the same -- she looked horrified. concern. something was wrong with you, and you had a really bad feeling about what. it wasn't stress, it wasn't spencer. it was something else.

thirty-eight minutes. thats how long it took for you to find out.

ciara stayed by your side, her face didn't dare to flinch. a nurse stepped quietly into the room, her hesitant movements breaking the fragile quiet that enveloped the space. the atmosphere felt charged, and you could sense the shift immediately, your heart beginning to pound. the light from the window framed ciara, washing over her in a way that felt almost ethereal. as her expression morphed from concern into something more serious, an unsettling tension settled between you, pinning you both in a moment that seemed to stretch on.

when the nurse began to deliver the news her words flowed without sound, each gesture amplifying the weight of what she had to say. you felt your breath hitch as a wave of uncertainty crashed over you, the reality of her news unsettling sinking in like a stone. the room, once familiar and comforting, suddenly felt small and suffocating, the walls closing in as vivid memories backtracked through your mind—laughter, plans, and dreams that now teetered on the brink of change. the warmth of the space became oppressive as your heart raced, fear mingling with disbelief.

in an instant, the safety of your world unraveled, and the gravity of ciara's presence anchored you to an unsettling truth. the air was thick with unvoiced questions, your heart heavy with the weight of responsibility and the unknown. as the silence roared in your ears, every breath turned bittersweet, a reminder of how everything that had once seemed so certain was now tinged with complexity. you stood there, caught between the past and an uncertain future, realizing in that moment that everything had changed.

fifteen minutes. that's how long it took to get discharged.

the car glided smoothly along the dark road, the headlights casting fleeting beams of light onto the pavement, illuminating the otherwise shadowy world outside. ciara sat in the drivers seat seat, her silhouette a quiet presence lost in thought, her silence wrapping the cabin in an almost palpable stillness. each soft breath she took seemed to mirror the steady thrum of the engine, but the weight of her unspoken emotions filled the air, creating a tension that was hard to ignore. the familiar contours of the landscape slipped by in an undulating blur, trees lining the road like silent sentinels.

as the miles rolled on, your mind began to wander, seeking distraction in the rhythmic pattern of passing objects. you started to count the trees, the sturdy trunks becoming a makeshift anchor in the sea of swirling thoughts. one after another, the arboreal figures flickered past, offering a sense of solace as if each counted tree marked a moment of time that moved further away from the hospital. the darkened silhouettes blurred together, yet you found a strange comfort in the repetitive task, allowing your focus to drift into the rhythm of your surroundings.

six hours, thirty-one minutes. and not a single call from spencer.

as the car glided to a stop in the driveway, the familiar surroundings of your home greeted you with an unsettling mix of comfort and anxiety. the sky was turning shades of purple and orange, a vivid sunset framing the moment. ciara turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, her eyes fixed on the front door, as if gauging its significance. you both understood that what waited beyond that threshold was life-changing.

you unbuckled your seatbelt and took a deep breath, your mind swirling with thoughts you had been trying to organize all day. today had felt unending, a series of moments stacked upon one another, each one urging you toward this very conclusion. the weight of what you needed to reveal pressed heavily on your chest, and you were acutely aware of the time you had spent wrestling with your emotions.

ciara glanced at you, her expression a blend of concern and encouragement. you could tell she wanted to say something, perhaps offer reassurance, but instead, she simply gave your hand a gentle squeeze. the gesture felt grounding, a reminder that while you were stepping into the unknown, you were not entirely alone.

with a nod, you exited the car, the cool evening air wrapping around you like a cloak. you took a moment on the doorstep, hesitating as you glanced back at ciara, who offered you a reassuring smile before she drove away. the sound of the engine faded, leaving you with the echo of your own heartbeat.

spencer sat there, something heavy on his mind. his shirt was off, and he was stood in sweatpants and the line of his boxers showing. his hair was damp and flew down to his shoulders, his arms clinging onto the back of his neck and he eyed you up and down. you stared up at him with heavy, red eyes. you set down your purse and stared off into the distance.

he stared at you in silence. it was pissing you off. he was acting like a fucking child, and now really wasn't the time. your heart raced as your thoughts spiraled, the weight of everything you had been holding inside bubbling just beneath the surface. You could feel the frustration rising as you realized you were no longer willing to play your eyes met, and in that shared moment of understanding, something unspoken ignited.

“I can’t do this anymore,”

“I'm pregnant.” You blurted simultaneously.

The air shifted, charged with the gravity of your revelation and his confession, and the silence that had ruled the room felt like it was finally ready to crack open, revealing the unvoiced truths waiting just beneath the surface. your eyes widened and jaw feel open, as you grasped what just came out of his mouth. tears welled up at your eyes, and his met with yours with the same expression, and at the same time you both uttered;

“What?”

im getting started on part four of the down the valley series , preparing u guys for dilaudid reid , so hes going to be realllyyyy mean towards valley for the next couple of parts, heres a cute spencer reid collage i found as an apology <3

She was being thrusted into by her boyfriend of almost 16 months and all she could think about was a man who she's interacted with once -- cliche. It was like a really bad porno.

Every chance she got to look down at Nick, all she could see was Spencer. His voice, calling out for her in a fit of pornographic moans. His perfectly sculpted jaw. Brown doe eyes staring back at her as he consumed her tits; licking up and down her buds.

She imagined his fingers dripping towards her most sensitive, teasing her body as he hesitantly rubbed. He would make sure that she felt pleasure with even the lightest touch; if she didn't, he wasn't doing it right. Her back would arch, and he would dip his neck to kiss in between her breasts, leaving soft kisses to her intermammary line to sooth her.

Her breathe hitched with his every thrust almost in a rhythm, her walls clenching around his sex.

“I can't--” She would moan out, throwing her head forward, finding peace in the crevice of his neck, digging her nails deep into him to the point of pain.

“You will.”. He would, almost beggingly. He would need her to finish on him, he wouldn't be able to feel complete without it. He would've been in look. The pit started to boil within her lower stomach. Looking down at how full she was, full of him at that would've sent her over the edge. “Agh, Mm...” She'd moan out as the feeling began to rise.

“Yeah, you gonna come?” Was asked. Yet, it wasn't Spencer's voice. It wasn't the soft, begging and welcoming voice she fantasied of. It was Nick's.

Just like that; Pit came crashing down, and not in a good way.

Realizing what she had been doing, she thought quickly. His hands wrapped around her waist and she nodded quickly, “Yes, Nick, fuck.”, She lied. Fake mewls and mumbles flew through her mouth as she forced a clench around him, which sent him over the edge. His face flew in between her breasts and his nose hit her chest, causing a wince of pain. He showed no care. Nick pulled out of her warmth and emptied himself onto her stomach, gasping out for air as she reached to kiss him and he dodged it,

“You know I don't--” “Right,” She acknowledged. He doesn't kiss her after she gives him head. He sat up on the bed and threw her her shirt, groaning as he walked towards the bathroom to go shower. She sat there frustrated, and edged. And usually, she'd be into that type of thing if it were voluntary. Most of all -- she was confused. She denied that it was Spencer, she thought of. She convinced herself that she was getting people mixed up. Maybe she wasn't thinking of anyone at all, because she had Nick.

She couldn't think of anyone at all. She would never hurt Nick like that, and Nick would never ever even think of hurting her like that.

She pushed any guilt she had incredibly far down, essentially gaslighting herself.

It was a weekend off for the team, and the more she thought about it the more frustrating it became.

**buzz buzz**

She stared blankly at the text message, breathing out through her nose as she shut her eyes; she figured if she ignore it -- it would go away. And when her eyes opened again, it was still there. A groan fell from her lips, probably the first real one all night.

Valley struts into the D.C Station after and forty-nine minute drive, being met with the faces of Jennifer, Aaron.

"SSA Aaron, SSA Valley, Vic Barnes." The blonde spoke, she gave a soft nod. He reached his hand for a handshake; she waved instead.

Looking at the bulletin board, Valley's eyes move quickly around the notes and pictures. She notices the hesitation marks on the second victim, "He isn't sure he wants to be killing." She speaks out,

"He's asking police to find him," Hotch adds. "Matches your kid," he speaks behind Valley to which she turns around and is met to face with Dr. Reid. Her eyes meet with his not for long, before his inlock with Hotch's. His eyebags are heavy, his hair is messy, and he looks like he's on his third cup of caffeine. Spencer didn't get any rest, and she can tell. If he could he probably wouldn't let himself blink.

As she looks down at his hands gripping the coffee mug, her thoughts wander back to her early morning rendezvous. The way his hands fit perfectly around her neck, the prettiest necklace she ever wore. She snapped out of it when she heard him speak, her mind racing with confusion and frustration once again. She didn't get her rocks off, and right now really wasn't the time to think about it. Not while they're discussing a trail of prostitutes getting left on the streets.

"I let him go, I'm sorry." He said, genuine disappointment evident in his voice. It was obvious he was beating himself up about it, and if he could without being written off as crazy -- he'd do it in a literal sense.

"We'll catch him," Hotch added.

Around two or three hours later, Gideon and Spencer sought out the unsub for his arrest.

Valley sat at the department, zoned out while sipping on bad coffee, and it felt way more overwhelmed then usual. She felt like he had been making no progress with the team, she had done nothing to help, the officers are desperate to spark up conversation with the team.

Everything is going profoundly wrong. Not to mention, she was about to experience the best orgasm of her life before the sound of her boyfriends voice ruined it.

And in the midst of all of this, Valley had been experiencing incredibly bad flashbacks.

It's the same thing, over, and over again. She's stuck in the same position as blood drips from the rounded oak table to her feet.

The assailants were faceless, like wraiths in the night, their identities shrouded in mystery. They moved with an eerie grace, their bodies gliding across the room as they ransacked the house.

One of them turned towards her hiding spot, his eyes glowing like twin embers in the darkness. You could almost make his eyes out his appearance effortlessly; if it wasn't for the mask he wore.

He was a brunette with long greasy thin hair, his eyes where a soulless dirty blue which were surrounded by a black eyeshadow. A shudder of terror coursed through her as he moved towards her, his steps echoing ominously in the silence.

She exhaled through her nose, thinking of ways to focus. But she couldn't. She didn't know why, her mind was telling her to do one thing while her body was doing three others.

'Should I put the cup down? No, pick the marker up. Don't forget to highlight important details within the case--'. The voices inside her head were so continuous, vexing, and loud.

"Uh, okay okay..." She said under her breathe while squeezing her eyes shut, repeating everything she had to do out loud while scrambling all over the place. It didn't help when Morgan walked through the door, another presence she had to deal with.

Her iris met with his and all she could do was roll them, not purposefully but it was defintely noticeable. And it defintely concerned Morgan to the highest extent. "Baby," He spoke. She ignored him, and continued to scramble around.

Smile.

She smiled.

The inner monologue got even louder, don't forget... no wait... you need to--- she was trying so hard to breathe in and out. She was trying so hard to calm down. But she couldn't, so how she reacted wasn't ideal. She didn't want to be touched, she didn't mean to she just didn't want to be touched. But she thought Morgan put a hand on her shoulder, and,

"Can you fucking move?" She blurted between her grated teeth, nostrils flared and her hands in the air. Her face dropped quickly after she realized what she just said. Her expressions softened, and Derek looked at her. Not normally, not concerned. He didn't look at her like he knew something was wrong with her, or like he knew she needed space. He felt bad for her. He pitied her.

And that only set her off more. "Don't give me that look, please. Not you Derek out of all people do not give me that look." She pleaded with him, her head rocking back and forth. "Look, I'm sorry there's just-- I need you to back away from me. For a moment, please. I need you, to back away. Anything you need to said can be said without touching me.". And that's when he looked at her with even more pity,

"Val."

"No, Morgan. I'm serious. I'm not made of braille you can understand me without having to touch me,"

"Val--" She cut him off, clearly agitated. "Anything you need you can say from--" "Valley,"

"What?" She asked aggressively, turning her head once again. No one was there.

"I'm standing over here.". She looked across the room Morgan never made it in. He had been at the entry way this whole time, alongside Gideon.

Alongside Spencer. She never felt more a fool in her life, her eyes shot back and forth between Gideon and Derek. They didn't betray her, they didn't think of locking with Spencer. She was so, humiliated, so how could they? She looked down once again, shaking her head out of pure embarrassment.

"I could've sworn you were right here. I thought,". At lost for words, she refused to make any further eye contact. "I apologize." she blurted out.  

"Brown," Gideon called. "Sir?" - "Morgan will take over on the profile building,". Her head shot up, and before any refusal could be made, she was interrupted. "I want you to take a walk.". Her nostrils flared once again, "I don't need a walk, Gideon."

Hearing his name being said in such a manner, he glared at her. "Yes, you do.". Valley nodded softly, not wanting to make a bigger deal of things than she already has. She walked towards the shining glass doors, her presence causing both Morgan and Reid to make way. Incoherent mumbles escaping through her lips. She had no clue where she was going to go, but she wanted to go somewhere were she couldn't be bothered. That was going to be insanely hard to do, seeing as even the slightest breeze of wing could very much bother her at this point. She wasn't going to let that stop her though.

It took her fifteen minutes to find a park, where no one was. She could be alone with her thoughts, ones that were free of any task that sent them into overdrive. She didn't know what kept her mind captative, she couldn't pinpoint what her problem was, she couldn't even pin point what her main problem was. Her mind was constantly on go, and she felt like an idiot because she couldn't keep up with it. It was frustrating and it made her feel stupid. And she never feels stupid. She stared into the water fountain, watching as the Koi fish swam in sync with one another. So free, so beautiful.

One reflection became two, and she was greeted with a familiar face. Her eyes felt like they could pop out of her head, and her cheeks stung so badly once she noticed his presence.

 “You know, PTSD can cause intense emotional outbursts, like anger or irritability, due to an overactive stress response system. This reaction happens when the brain's amygdala becomes overactive, especially when triggered by reminders of past trauma.” Spencer spoke, trying his hardest to do whatever it takes to make sure she felt more sane, she was craving silence, believing it would bring her the solace she needed. Yet, despite her desire for quiet, his voice proved to be a greater comfort than any peace could offer. His words reached her in a way that silence never could, filling the void with a warmth and reassurance that transcended mere tranquility. 

 “Statistics show that about 7-8% of people will experience PTSD, and a significant portion, around 51% of veterans, report significant anger issues. These outbursts can strain relationships and affect overall well-being.”, she laughed, unable to hold back the sound. All she could manage was a laugh as she asked, “So, you’re saying you think my friendship with Derek is doomed?”. Spencer shook his head and smiled. “I think that if you try to hide how you feel from someone you care about, it already is, Krasivaya.”. Her ears peaked up, his eyes averted her gaze. "Valley. It means Valley in Russian.".  Valley stared up at him, the sun casting a warm shadow over the two. She stared at him with longing; he stared at her with compassion. “You were not spiraling. You were overstimulated,” he reassures her. “I uh- I know how it feels.”. He added, fixing the glasses that sat perfectly on his face. Perfectly on the bridge of his nose. His hazel eyes glistened, his hands in his jacket pockets and his scarf almost hiding his defined jaw, leaving everything to the imagination. And that only lead her back to this morning. The morning where she felt herself most calmed. The morning where she felt herself unravel, she felt herself release all build up she had. And the worst part is, she feels so terrible about it.

“Do you ever feel like, your trapped in your mind? Like your thoughts are clawing at you from the inside and you're scared that one day, you're gonna be to tired to fight them. And you're going to give in?”

“Am I scared of my own mind?”. She nods in response to his question, her feet moving away from the fountain as she makes her way towards the gateway of the park. 

“How could I not be,” He simply replies. They walked in silence for a while, just allowing each others presence to speak more than words ever possibly could. She begun to profile spencer quite a bit, looking up at him for a moment and letting that mental image do the work.

“Krasivaya,” she whispers softly. Spencer refuses to look down at her, just hummed in response. “What does it really mean,”, now he looked down at her. He thought for a little and just shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno,”

“You can't lie to a profiler,” she joked while giggling. “I mean it took you approximately 5 minutes to figure out I did, so I'm pretty sure I can,”. Valley shook her head, nudging him softly.

The park is enveloped in a serene stillness. Streetlights cast pools of warm, golden light on the deserted paths, their glow creating long shadows on the dewy grass. The trees, heavy with leaves rustling in the light breeze, stand as silent sentinels in the dimness.

The two walk along a winding path, their footsteps muffled by the soft earth beneath them. The air is crisp, tinged with the faint scent of pine and damp soil. The occasional chirp of a distant cricket is the only sound that punctuates the quiet.

The park’s fountain, dormant for the season, is surrounded by a ring of frost-covered benches, their once-vibrant colors muted. A nearby playground, with its swings swaying gently, adds a ghostly touch to the scene, the metal structures gleaming faintly.

As Valley walked beside Spencer, the vibrant hues of autumn leaves danced in the gentle breeze around them. She focused on the rhythmic crinkle beneath her boots, each step a small distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in her mind. The air was crisp, smelling faintly of earth and decay, but it felt alive, contrasting sharply with the heaviness she felt inside.

She cast her gaze away, attempting to push aside the memory of her outburst, the way her voice had shaken with raw emotions she thought she had under control. Instead, she silently watched the squirrels scurry about, busying themselves with acorns and nuts, seemingly oblivious to the world’s chaos. A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of her mouth; even the wildlife was thriving, while she felt as if she was struggling just to keep her head above water.

Spencer walked beside her, his presence a steady, calming force amidst her inner turbulence. There was something reassuring about his quiet demeanor, his gentle intelligence that always seemed to shine through in moments of uncertainty. Yet, Valley’s mind flickered constantly, wrangling with self-doubt and guilt. How could she have lost control like that? She had promised herself she wouldn’t let her emotions overwhelm her again, not after everything.

The park was alive, but she felt strangely detached, as if she were watching it all unfold through a glass window. Laughter from nearby children echoed in the backdrop, but it felt distant—like a sound meant for someone else, not for her. Valley glanced sideways at Spencer, who was quietly observing her, his brow slightly furrowed in concern. Even in her turmoil, his eyes were warm and inviting, an anchor she didn’t know she desperately needed.

A few minutes passed in amiable silence, the peaceful sounds of the park mingling with their footsteps. Valley felt a twinge of warmth at the thought of Spencer simply being here. It was absurd how much his presence meant; he had a way of making her feel seen without pressuring her to share what she wasn’t ready to reveal.

After an eternity wrapped in minutes, she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for earlier…” The words escaped her and hung in the air between them like a delicate thread.

Spencer shrugged lightly, the corners of his mouth curving into a soft smile—one that spoke volumes, reassuring her without the need for excessive words. “It’s okay to have feelings, Valley. You don’t have to apologize for being human.”

His words wrapped around her heart, easing the grip of anxiety that had tightened within. As they continued walking, a warmth blossomed in her chest, melting away the initial chill of shame. Maybe it was okay to let her guard down occasionally, to accept that everyone wrestles with their emotions.

Spencer glanced over at her and suggested, “How about we grab some coffee?” His eyes sparkled with a gentleness that felt like an invitation to take a break from her thoughts. “I can really go for some caffeine right now. What do you say?”

Valley nodded slowly, the idea of a warm cup in her hands appealing like a cozy blanket against the chill of her lingering worries. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

As they walked towards the nearby café, her heart felt a little lighter. Each passing moment was no longer overshadowed by her earlier despair. Instead, it was filled with the promise of a cozy corner, the rich aroma of coffee, and the comfort of shared silence alongside Spencer.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped them as they entered the café, the warmth of the space wrapping around Valley like a comforting embrace. She took a moment to soak in the vibrant chatter and soft music filling the room while Spencer sauntered to the counter, casually scanning the menu with a focused look. It was both comforting and chaotic—a stark contrast to her tangled thoughts, which felt more like a storm raging within.

She chose a cozy corner table, watching as Spencer interacted with the barista, his genuine smile easily disarming. There was an odd comfort in seeing him in this setting, the slight frizz of his hair from the morning breeze framing his face perfectly. It was a breath of fresh air, a welcome distraction, but as soon as she allowed herself to relax, the weight of her earlier outburst crept back in, wrapping around her shoulders like a heavy cloak.

When Spencer returned, two steaming cups in hand, he slid one across the table. “I hope you like vanilla lattes,” he said, his eyes intent on hers, as if he were searching for something deeper in her gaze.

“Yeah, they’re great,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. She wrapped her fingers around the warmth of the cup, although the heat couldn’t quite shake the chill burdening her heart. “Thanks for getting this.”

Silence fell comfortably between them for a moment as both took sips, but Valley could feel the words swirling inside her, fighting to escape. How to explain the mess of emotions she was grappling with? The looming shadows of guilt and confusion felt too heavy to put into words. She looked down, playing with the rim of her cup, hesitating as the tension within her began to swell again.

The café bustled around them, but it felt like they were in their own little world. She gathered her resolve and steered the conversation back into a more palatable territory. “It’s… been a rough few days,” Valley confessed, gaze flickering up to meet Spencer's. “Probably more than I realized.”

Spencer nodded, his expression softening in understanding. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he said, sipping thoughtfully. But his sincerity nudged her, inviting her to share more.

“I just… I don’t know,” she continued, the words spilling out before she had the chance to stop herself. “Everything feels so overwhelming all the time. Like I’m this awful monster for feeling everything that I do.” Her voice was pained, thick with restraint. She felt like she was ripping open old wounds, exposing her vulnerability, but somehow she needed to say it. “I’m not supposed to feel this way.”

She met his gaze again, hoping to gauge his response. The kindness on his face was palpable, and it spurred her to dig deeper. “I shouldn’t be feeling…” She faltered, grasping for the right words, knowing she couldn’t bare her entire story—not yet, anyway.

Spencer leaned back in his chair, observing her with an intensity that lent the moment heavy significance. “Yes, you are,” he replied, his tone thoughtful yet firm. “You’re feeling that way because you’re human, Valley. You just don’t want to let yourself experience it.”

The earnestness in his voice struck her, and she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of uncertainty. Was he right? She felt so isolated in her struggle; had she been avoiding the very emotions that needed to surface?

“It’s tough, especially when you’ve been on your own for so long,” he continued, setting his cup down and resting his hands on the table. “When you finally start to feel things, it can be… disorienting. You want to shut it all down because you’re not used to having anyone around to help you carry that load.”

Valley felt her chest tighten. What did he know of her struggles? But as she listened, there was a sincerity in his words that struck a different chord. Spencer continued, his voice gentle yet steady. “You have people around you who care. Hotch, Derek, Penelope…” He paused, his gaze softening. “And me.”

The way he said it sent a shiver down her spine—both surprising and warming at the same time. It felt so odd to hear someone like him, a guy she barely knew, quietly affirm her place within their team. Yet, the reality of those connections started to settle within her like a cup of warm cocoa—comforting yet rich, with the potential to carry the burden of her emotions.

“Anyone would be lucky to have you along, Valley,” he added softly, his eyes earnest. “It’s okay to let it in—whatever it is you’re feeling.”

In that moment, amidst the bustle of the café, Valley felt a flicker of hope forming—a fragile yet resilient flame in the face of her emotional storm. Maybe the world wouldn’t fall apart if she let herself feel, if she allowed the warmth of connections to seep through her guarded armor. She offered him a small, hesitant smile, recognition blooming within.

The ambiance of the café buzzed with laughter and the comforting sound of clinking dishes. Valley and Spencer shared a cozy corner table, their conversation flowing effortlessly as they recounted humorous stories from previous cases and slight mishaps on the team. She felt lighter, their laughter weaving a temporary escape from her tangled thoughts.

After sipping her vanilla latte, Valley leaned back in her chair, a grin spreading across her face. “Okay, but can we seriously talk about the time Derek tried to impress JJ by cooking?” she chuckled, barely able to contain her laughter.

“It was a terrible idea,” Spencer replied, shaking his head, his voice a mix of amusement and disbelief. “I think he almost started a small fire in the kitchen.”

“Exactly! And it took weeks for him to live that down,” Valley said, wiping a tear of laughter from her eye. The joy between them felt palpable, a warm moment that contrasted starkly with the confusion that had plagued her mind for days.

But soon, the laughter dwindled, and Valley felt a sudden wave of necessity. “I’ll be right back,” she said, rising from her seat. “Just need to use the bathroom.” As she excused herself and made her way to the back of the café, she absentmindedly left her phone on the table.

Spencer, still caught up in the lightness of their moment, momentarily lost track of time. He glanced around the bustling café, appreciating the ambiance. But soon, his gaze fell on Valley’s phone. The screen lit up with a notification, its buzz cutting through the festive noise.

Curiosity piqued, he hesitated for just a moment before reaching over to glance at her phone. The text message illuminated the screen, revealing a message from her boyfriend.

He read aloud in a low voice, a puzzled expression crossing his features. That phrase hung in the air, gnawing at him with an unsettling feeling. he muttered under his breath, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. The tone felt dismissive, almost rehearsed, like the words of someone trying to calm a storm they weren't willing to acknowledge.

Valley's absence seemed extended just then, and as the message sunk in, Spencer knew something wasn't right. As she approached, he quickly put her phone in the exact position it was in.

He returned to the light-hearted banter they had been sharing, trying to keep the atmosphere relaxed. As she slid back into her seat, a wave of warmth washed over him, grateful for the moments of laughter they had shared.

Valley glanced at her phone, her brow furrowing slightly as she noticed the notification still glowing on the screen. She quickly unlocked it, her heart dropping as she read her boyfriend’s message again. The words echoed in her mind, a reminder of the tension gnawing at the edges of her contentment.

Spencer, sensing the change in her demeanor, leaned in just a bit closer. “Hey, is something wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with genuine concern.

Her gaze flicked up from the screen, and just for a moment, vulnerability flickered in her eyes. “No, it’s fine,” she replied, her smile strained. It was a lie, but one she hoped would suffice for the moment.

The words might’ve come out easily enough, a practiced response she had become accustomed to giving. After all, she didn’t want to burden him with the complications of her life, especially when they had just managed to find this brief oasis of joy amidst their busy lives.

But underneath that response, the truth lingered— got caught up at work?

He works from home.

Spencer studied her closely, noting the way her eyes darted back to her phone as if it wielded some kind of gravitational pull, making it difficult to shake off the worry tightening around her chest.

“Okay, but if anything’s bothering you…” he started, wanting her to know he was there for her, regardless of whether she elected to share her feelings or not.

“Really, I’m fine!” she insisted, her tone almost too bright. A tiny part of her wished it was true, wished she could brush off the unease that lurked just beneath the surface.

The moment hung between them, a fragile facade of normalcy masking the swirling storm of confusion and doubt that had settled into her heart. Spencer nodded, not entirely convinced, but willing to let it go, sensing that she’d reveal more when she was ready.

Moments later, Valley glanced at her watch. “Ugh, look at the time! I can’t believe how long we’ve been here,” she said, her heart lightening as she gathered her things. “Should we head out?”

“Sure, let me grab the check,” Spencer said, rising from his chair.

Once outside, the evening sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow across the bustling street. Valley shivered slightly as a cool breeze brushed past, the air hinting at the rain that was forecasted to arrive later.

“Do you want me to drive you home?” Spencer asked, gesturing toward his car parked nearby. “I wouldn’t want you out in the rain.”

She hesitated for a moment. It felt nice, being with him, yet there was a wariness that tugged at her. “Sure, that would be great,” she replied, glancing at the darkening sky.

As they settled into the car, she felt a strange comfort in their shared quiet. The engine hummed to life as Spencer pulled away from the curb, navigating the winding streets back towards Virginia. The flow of traffic seemed heavier than usual, but the atmosphere inside the vehicle was relaxed. They exchanged playful remarks and laughed over silly observations about other drivers, the ride becoming a safe foothold for their bubbling connection.

“Did you see that guy?” Spencer laughed, pointing to a driver who seemed to be oblivious to the traffic light change. “He’s been sitting there, just staring off into space!”

“Oh my god,” Valley chuckled. “I love how every once in a while, someone forgets what they’re doing in the middle of traffic.”

“It seriously makes me wanna do things that could cost me my badge and my track record,” Spencer joked, kind of.

The drive stretched forty-nine long minutes, giving them time to share even more laughter, weaving confused anecdotes and moments from their lives. Valley talked about her love for concocting bizarre recipes, recounting an unfortunate incident where she added way too much salt to her mother’s famous macaroni and cheese.

“Your family must’ve loved that,” Spencer teased, turning to her with a grin.

“Oh, they were not pleased,” she said, feigning an offended tone. “I practically made everyone drink, like, three gallons of water afterward!”

Spencer laughed heartily, and a surge of warmth washed over her. A part of her wished the drive would never end, that they’d just keep talking in this easy, flowing manner. As they crossed the Potomac River into Virginia, the distant rumble of thunder echoed through the air, and the first few raindrops began to patter softly against the windshield.

Valley’s heart sank a little as the cityscape turned into the suburban familiarity of her neighborhood. The conversation had been so refreshing, and she dreaded the impending silence that would come with parting ways. It struck her that she was hesitant about the moment they would reach her driveway—the reality of the rain and the fact that they were both about to step back into their individual lives.

Spencer pulled up to her house, the comforting glow of the lights illuminating her porch. Raindrops began to fall more steadily, sending rhythmic whispers against the rooftop. As she sat in the passenger seat, she debated inviting him in. The stormy weather was a perfect excuse; it could lead to shared warmth and strolls through further conversations.

But deep down, she knew inviting him inside could complicate things further, layering the confusion that had already begun to unfurl. She didn’t want to cross a line she wasn’t ready for, nor did she want to engage in a conversation that seemed inevitable. Instead, she felt the tugging lingering doubt in her mind.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Of course,” he replied, glancing at her with those kind, patient eyes that had been listening so earnestly. “It was really good to see you today. I had fun.”

“Me too,” she said, letting a brief smile curl her lips. In that moment, their gazes locked, and she could feel an unspoken connection crackle between them, a delicate tension layered with possibility.

“Okay, well…” she hesitated, the instinct to invite him in nearly slipping out. But instead, she swallowed her feelings down, deciding on caution instead of impulse. “Get home safe, alright?”

Spencer’s brow raised slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “You too, Valley.”

“Definitely,” she said, and in that moment, part of her didn’t want to look away. But she broke the tension, unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing her bag. The rain began to pour, cascading down in thick sheets, but she felt compelled to keep her composure as she opened the door.

“See you soon!” she managed to call over the sound of the rain before stepping out into the downpour.

“See you!” Spencer replied, his voice steady as she closed the door. He watched her squeeze her bag to her chest, her hurried footsteps splashing through puddles as she darted toward the porch.

Valley turned back briefly, giving him a fleeting smile that felt heavy with meaning, but then she pushed forward into her home, shutting the door with a soft click. Inside her house, Valley felt the familiar warmth embrace her as she closed the door against the storm outside. The murmurs of rain against the roof became a comforting backdrop, displacing the weight of the day with a snug sense of home. She stepped into the cozy living room, where her sister, Jess, sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine. Kahalani, her daughter, had already fallen asleep, curled up in a blanket, the soft rise and fall of her little chest bringing a smile to Valley’s face.

As the gentle light from the lamp nearby cast a golden hue over the room, Valley felt grateful that Jess had stepped in to help. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her,” she said softly, glancing at her sleeping daughter.

“Of course,” Jess replied, offering a warm smile. “I’ll always be here when you need a break. Plus, it was nice to have some quiet time with her.”

Valley joined her sister on the couch, and they shared a moment of quiet camaraderie. Valley sipped the lukewarm cup of coffee left over from earlier, staring thoughtfully at the wall where photos of Kahalani’s milestones hung. Each image captured a moment in time—the first steps, her first day of school, silly faces between smiles. Each picture was a reminder of the fleeting nature of life and how quickly these moments could pass.

"I should really get my act together," Valley murmured after a beat, her gaze focused on the images.

“Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself,” Jess said, sensing her sister’s underlying tension. “You’re doing an amazing job balancing everything. Work, Kahalani, life… Dick,” “Nick?”

“We both know he's only Dick,” Valley stared at her. Hard, mostly because she knew she was right -- so she let it slide.

“Maybe I’m just feeling a little lost lately,” Valley confessed. “It seems like everything keeps changing, and I’m just trying to keep up.”

“You’re allowed to feel overwhelmed mama,” Jess reassured her. “Just take it one day at a time. It’s okay to need help sometimes.”

As the rain drummed softly on the roof, Jess and Valley cleaned up the remnants of Kahalani’s earlier craft session. They stacked colored paper and crayons, each item a testament to the creativity and chaos of childhood. After a while, Jess glanced at her watch. “I’ve got to run,” she said, gathering her things. “But I’ll check in later this week, okay? If you need me tomorrow you just call me.”

“Sounds perfect,” Valley replied, grateful for Jess’s support. She watched as her sister waved goodbye and slipped out into the rain, leaving Valley alone in the hushed home.

Once the door closed behind Jess, the stillness enveloped her. Kahalani was peacefully asleep, her small body cocooned in the blanket on the couch. Valley tiptoed over, brushing a stray hair from Kahalani’s face, and felt a familiar rush of love wash over her. She couldn’t help but smile; moments like these were what made everything worthwhile.

Deciding she needed to wash away the remnants of the day, she moved to her bathroom, the cool tiles underfoot a stark contrast to the warmth of her earlier laughter with Jess. She turned on the shower, and the sound of running water blended with the rain outside, creating a soothing melody that eased her mind.

The warmth enveloped her as she stepped under the cascading water, the droplets feeling like tiny kisses against her skin. The sensation was intoxicating, a silky embrace washing over her shoulders and trickling down her back. Valley closed her eyes, letting the water envelop her in a cloud of warmth. It washed away the heaviness of the day, releasing the stress that had built up like a barricade around her heart.

She took a moment to breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of the lavender body wash that filled the air before pouring a generous amount into her palm. As she lathered it across her skin, the rich foam glided over her arms and legs, each stroke a soothing caress that melted away her unease. The heat of the water against her skin was an intoxicating balm, washing away the day’s tensions and fears. She felt herself slip deeper into a state of relaxation, the world outside fading away.

Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, allowing the water to cascade over her hair and down her back. The warmth seeped into her muscles, loosening the knots that had formed throughout the day. She felt a sense of peace wrap around her, cocooning her in tranquility as the water ran down her body, pooling around her feet.

After several blissful minutes, she turned off the faucet, shaking her hair slightly before reaching for a fluffy towel. The soft fabric felt divine against her skin as she dried off, the warmth lingering even when the water was gone.

Stepping into her room, Valley switched on the bedside lamp, the soft glow illuminating the space around her. She took a moment to appreciate the quiet, stillness wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. The rain continued its gentle rhythm outside, creating a sense of serenity that contrasted with her thoughts swirling through her mind.

She crawled into bed, adjusting the pillows and sinking into the comfort of the sheets. The familiar feeling enveloped her as she rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling and letting her thoughts drift. She replayed the evening’s moments, from Jess’s laughter to Kahalani’s sleepy smile. As she lay there, however, her thoughts turned toward Spencer.

Just as she settled into the tranquility of the night, she felt something unusual against the surface of the pillow on Nick's side—the pillow he usually occupied when he stayed over. Curiosity hitting her like a flash, she turned toward it, reaching out instinctively.

As her fingers grazed the fabric, she froze. A cold rush flooded her as she pulled the item free.

Hearing the bell of the elevator cling, she let a breathy sigh slip through her lips, clutching her purse, straightening her posture, and fixing her glasses. Once the doors opened, however, every ounce of confidence was slowly drained from her face as she stepped out of the lift. She looked around to see a lot of people whispering, some with smiles on their faces. 

Some judging, obviously. Some people didn't look at all, it was mostly in her head. But as she continued to walk, it felt as if the hallways themselves were staring her down, her palms got sweaty and she started to breathe out with her mouth, her heart was pumping blood at a much faster rate and it had felt like her skin was too tight.

A slight halt came and went as she contemplated just walking out of the building, knowing it was immature but she was deathly trying to avoid all wretched and sympathy stares coming her way. It was unnecessary and frankly vexing. She didn't need anyone's pity, that's all the flooded her mind as she continued to step, not meeting anyone gaze.

The people staring don't mean any harm, some of them don't even know about the case. She tried to convince herself of it, but she couldn't. It was too soon to try and console her own self conscious.

She felt frustrated, like she was stupid for coming back. She thought of sending in a transfer request, more than once.

There was really no reason she did it, it would be a regular 9-5. She would have more time with her daughter of course, it was a no brainer in her own mind. But she didn't, there's no why, there's no long and useless explanation. She just didn't. And all she feels is regret. She's trying to convince herself that she feels regret because it was for her daughter.

But that's not why. In fact, when thinking about her career, her daughter never crossed her mind once.

Valley could never walk away from the BAU, call it scarcity mindset.

Her thoughts continued as she gave some awkward smiles through out the hall, a voice calling out from the distance. "Little Momma?". She stopped in her tracks and a breathy laugh escaped her lips, turning around to see the one and only Derek Morgan. Her eyes shot open, him walking towards her in a haste, flashing his pearly white smile at her.

She matched the pace he was going and opened her arms, wrapping them around his neck and his going around her waist. Val looked up at him at a lost for words, Morgan was smiling ear to ear and looked her up and down in admiration. "You look, wow.".

"Not so bad yourself," She responded with a smile. A soft kiss was planted on her head and she just felt at ease. It was as if all the eyes on her didn't matter anymore, because his were.

Derek and Valley were from the same neighborhood in Chicago. She moved there when she was 14, and he was the only person Valley would be around. He was 3 years older than her and he became an older brother figure towards her, he was there for her birthdays, he would drive her around when she needed to get out the house, sneak her out if her parents were fighting.

Anything she needed, he got.

They were always there for each other, no matter what. And her leave was actually his idea, he knew that after what happened she would need a break.

"Two years... I haven't seen you in two years." He said in complete awe, she stayed quiet as she nodded softly and hummed. She didn't know what to say honestly -- She just thought back to her rehearsal in the car.

Smile.

Looking at her with concern, Morgan rubbed her shoulder in comfort, "Hey, baby. You know you still got a few days left. You sure you up to this?" A genuine question, not rhetorical. He wanted a yes or no, and she wasn't dumb enough to ignore his question. But she was smart enough to avoid it, she just smiled and hummed once again. Until her face dropped and then picked back up again,

"Hotch... is he still?" Morgan cut her off,

"Waiting for you is what he is.". Turning her the other way, she looked up and saw Aaron sitting at his desk in his office, scrambling through paperwork. Still as overworked as ever... at least that never changed. She made way, with Morgan following close behind unconsciously imitating a body guard.

Smile.

A soft chuckle escapes Morgan's lips as the both of them began to walk up the stare case, she turned back with a curious look.

"You haven't met boy wonder yet."

She scrunches her face in confusion, "You know I haven't, who's--"

"Hotch got a new genius that he favorites. You'll know 'em when you see him.". Valley gave a confused scowl and nodded her head, continuing to walk up the stairs.

As she walked into his office, she got off track and unknowingly began to profile his space. The fragrance of air freshener, espresso. Hailey hates anything having to do with coffee, so she knew something wasn't right. Hotch is controlled, he's considerate he wouldn't knowingly come home smelling of her least favorite scent.

They're having issues. He doesn't have to worry about what she thinks, but the pictures on his office wall still hung up indicates that something in him wants to. He doesn't want to forget about any memories they made, and the picture on his desk of his son is pointed towards the door, not towards him. He wants people to see he's a family man when they walk in the door, it makes them feel more comfortable around him.

That might be why he still has the photos hung. 

"Stop that." A low and raspy voice pleads, "we don't profile each other, not without saying hi first."

He arises from his wheeled chair, walking towards the young agent with a grin plastered on his face, his arms open as she walks right into them for a warm embrace. "You're back so soon... I thought you would be gone for another,"

" A week and five days, you thought right. But I knew I was ready." She lied, "besides, how long could this team go without me? I'm surprised that no ones practically begged for me back.". 

"And offended.". She sarcastically put a hand on her heart, as if she was wounded, shaking her head slowly. A breathy chuckle parted through his mouth, following her head movement. "That would be selfish. You know, if you need anything--"

She breathed heavily out of her nose and blurted out, "Why does everyone keep saying that?" She said, trying to hide her hint of frustration with a smile. Her mouth slightly fell open and her eyes shut as she hastily tried to figure out a way to take that back. She looked at him and he already looked concerned. This is what she didn't want, this is what she was talking about. She didn't want to be pitied, and she knew that she wasn't. This was a friend looking out for another friend.

But for what? What did anyone gain from trying to "Help out" knowing that they're not going to be there when she actually needs help. 

She's projecting.

"Sorry I didn't," She scoffed and shook her head. "I didn't, mean that. I'm sorry it's the first day nerves, if I need something I'll let you know." She nodded her head and he did the same.

"It's fine, I understand. Come, let's get you settled. Your cubicle remained untouched."  

That was a lie, Valley's cubicle had obviously been personalized. She began to walk around it for a little. She was frustrated, her cubicle was no longer hers. She started to examine, or profile the area. The photos that were once there were no longer than. They were replaced with ones of an elderly woman, blonde with blue eyes. The sanitizer right next to the sanitizing wipes heavily suggests verminophobia. 

Valley wrote books more than 32 books on profiling serial killers with mental disorders, this person only has 5 books on the same topic. Profiling serial killers with schizophrenia. This indicates that they may have experience with a schizophrenic serial or they have contact with someone in their personal  life who suffers from the disorder. Her books are  under 2 fictional books, so they might not want people to suspect what they're reading about, or why for that matter. 

Male, from the inorganization but the clean freak nature of the desk, and the only evidence of organization is to hide an object that he may worry he will be viewed as weak if it came to light. But the obvious hiding place suggests that his peers already know, he just doesn't want it brought up. 

Hotch put a hand over his face, out of embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Brown. Just sit in the empty cubicle right here until we get this sorted out I'll have him move his things over momentarily."

She shook her head, "It's perfectly fine." She lied, again. 

"But its not perfectly fine is it?" A voice called from behind her. She noticed Hotch's eyes follow the sound, and she looked behind her. 

"You see, statistically speaking, human behavior is often driven by our innate sense of territory and possession, studies have shown that people tend to form attachments to objects, space, or even routines that they perceive originally belonging to them.".

6 foot 1 inch, 54kg. His hair flowed down to his shoulders, he talked a lot with his hands, his eyes staring off into the distance. He couldn't look at her in the face for too long. He was distanced, as well. He spoke with such confidence, he didn't do it to sound smart he was smart.

He was adorable, is what she thought.

He also, didn't stop talking. 

"For example when someone sees a close friend forming a new, significant friendship person it often triggers feelings of irritation or jealously. This reaction is--" "Rooted in the psychology of territoriality and social bonds, which are instinctive behaviors found in many animal species including humans. The original friend may feel a sense of loss or displacement, as the time and emotional space once dedicated to their friendship is now being shared with someone else." He looked at her with shock, and slight annoyance. He let out a breathy laugh and smiled. "How did--"

"The Psychology of Ownership and Territory. I know it like the back of my hand." He still looked confused, he looked up at Aaron for answers. 

"Reid this is Valley Brown, Agent Brown this is Dr. Spencer Reid."

Spencer's eyes dropped to yours, an awkward smile coming from him as he waved his hand. She stuck her hand out for a handshake, out of curtesy. 

Her hand stayed there for around 10 seconds before she realized he wasn't going to shake her hand, she looked at him with a weirded look before just accepting it. She then pieced it together. "Boy wonder," She muttered under her breath. He hummed to the nickname usually used by Derek, to which she just shook her head and placed her bags down on the cubicle that was directly in front of his. 

She took a split second to examine him. The way he crossed his arms, his veins running all the way down to his wrist as branches would, his hair messy but presentable enough for no one to say anything about it. He kept one tucked behind his ear out of convenience. It gets in his way, but he won't cut it. He's been busy so he never has time to. 

The eye bags under his eyes suggests he hasn't gotten a proper night of sleep, but he's energized enough to be be able to infer its because lack of comfort, not lack of melatonin produced. He gets cold at night, he isn't able to be comfortable when its cold. He has multiple layers on top of his button up, long pants which suggests he's trying to keep himself warm.

His eyes were at war, both the earthy sage and chestnut hue blending together to make a perfect hazel. His cupids bow was soft yet filled, each time he laughed he did so breathy. His scent is what struck her the most. It was almost natural, it didn't go away or get underwhelming. It wasn't cheap cologne or cologne at all; he burns cinnamon and mint in oil to make his house smell of fall. And she hoped he never stopped.

The voices in the back of her head, telling her to force a smile slowly begun to disappear.

The Valleys world was drenched in a sepia hue, a distorting filter that twisted the familiar into the grotesque. She was back in the labyrinth of the past, a cruel maze of memories that refused to release her from its clutches. It began the same way each time – a quiet house, the crackling static of a forgotten radio, her parents' laughter floating down the hallway like a haunting melody. Then came the monstrous shadows, the screams echoing off the cold marble floors, the metallic scent of blood flooding her senses.

Her heart pounded against her chest as she watched the nightmare unfold. Her parents, their faces twisted in fear, lay sprawled on the floor, lifeless. The laughter that had once filled the house was replaced with a chilling silence that seeped into her bones, a silence so profound that it threatened to consume her. She was a little girl again, hiding behind the grandiose drapes, her small hands clasped over her mouth to stifle her sobs.

The assailants were faceless, like wraiths in the night, their identities shrouded in mystery. They moved with an eerie grace, their bodies gliding across the room as they ransacked the house.

One of them turned towards her hiding spot, his eyes glowing like twin embers in the darkness. You could almost make his eyes out his appearance effortlessly; if it wasn't for the mask he wore.

He was a brunette with long greasy thin hair, his eyes where a soulless dirty blue which were surrounded by a black eyeshadow. A shudder of terror coursed through her as he moved towards her, his steps echoing ominously in the silence.

As he grew closer to her, she couldn't see his face. She had closed her eyes and prayed it would be over... he spoke.

"Brown,". She could only look at him with fear, and confusion.

"Brown, are you okay.". She shook her head, closing her eyes.

A shrill voice tore through the fabric of the dream, pulling her back to reality. Valley jerked away as she looked around to see the lights mostly off, it was just her.

And, boy wonder. He stared down at her with a twinkle in his eyes as his hands sat in his pockets. He sat down in his cubicle chair and took a nude colored file from his desk, beginning to search through.

That's when he looked back towards her and noticed her eyes.

They drifted off into the distance, as she tried to get back in touch with reality. She desperately tried to -- she was so focused on what she dreamt about that she couldn't.

"Y-you've, uh." He starts, swallowing before his eyebrow furrows and his head slowly begins to nod. "Been here for... 780 minutes." He finishes, continuing to flip through the files,

She thinks for a few seconds tops, before scrunching her face. "I've been here... 13 hours?". Instead of answering her question Spencer kind of chuckles and scoffs simultaneously.

"You can calculate that, that quick?" He asked, genuinely surprised. "You can't?" She remarked, a soft smirk playing on her face as she looks at all the paperwork on her desk. She groans, realizing she can't go home until its filed.

It was already starting. She scrambled through her duffel bag, undoing her tie and letting it stay wrapped around her neck as she desperately searched.

She pulled out her cell, dialing a number with haste and the line picking up just as fast. Short words were exchanged, ultimately ending with. "I know, I'm sorry just... make sure she gets to bed on time." In a quiet whisper. Before the line ended.

Spencer looked back up at this, confusion written all over her face.

"Sister," She lied. Something she was doing awfully a lot for the first day back, "I watch over my sister sometimes, if our aunt doesn't take her." She nods.

"That-tuh, sounds like a lot." The brunette adds, his tongue clicking.

She nodded her head, assuming that there was nothing left but an awkward stream of silence between them before one of them eventually left. "D-do," Valley looked up at him, her hand tracing the words of the file coming to a halt as Boy wonder began to speak up.

"Do you find it, stressful?" He asks, curiously. She shakes her head no, with a smile deepening her dimples more and more.

"Of course not," She begun, chuckling softly. "The most stress I get from her is when she won't let me leave the house if she's not going."

He laughed and nodded. After a bit he stood up to go get some coffee, she stared a little at his desk when he did. She skimmed across it before seeing a candle in the corner of it.

Spencer came back and set one on his desk, and another on hers, a few sugar packets and creamers if she needed them.

He pulls out a container of what she knew to be was sugar and a cinnamon stick. Spencer begins to pour the sugar into one of the cups. The long crystal stream didn't seem to stop, and when it did it left her concerned if not confused.

"I don't know, which question to ask first. Who keeps a container of sugar in their back pocket, or if you were planning on putting that much in mine?" She joked, opening up one of the packets and 4 of the creamers to dump into her. The creamer taking a swan dive and engulfing its self into the dark brown liquid. The color became more light, more smooth looking.

She picked up another cream, and noticed a stare from mister Reid.

"You're not gonna finish that if you add another one," He says, putting the cup to his lips and slowly slurping. She watched as his Adam's apple bobbed back in forth as if the beverage was ice cool and not steaming, and she also rolled her eyes. "I never finish my coffee,"

"Because you add more cream then needed, studies show that Consuming too much dairy can cause nausea, stomach pains, and diarrhea, even if you're not lactose intolerant. Drinking or consuming too much dairy too quickly can actually cause vomiting because your body cannot process and digest it quick enough, but you see your body recognizes this before you do so without realizing your brain signals you to put it down and you're not gonna wanna pick it up again," He says and just as he's about to finish his sentence she interrupts him.

"You know, consuming too much sugar throughout the day is linked to chronic diseases and premature death. TAHA recommends that men consume no more than 9 teaspoons of added sugar per day. A teaspoon of sugar can add 16 calories to coffee, and you've added 49 teaspoons into yours which is very much over a cup of sugar." She'd say, scoffing softly. She could see why he was Hotch's new favorite, he had the habits she had. Just in different fonts.

"I'll go with my puking rather than your extremely high heart rate thank you very much."

He scoffed, and laughed. But your words obviously meant enough to him for him to put the cup down on his desk. "I got my habits from my old friend, Ethan. We went to school together,"

"Close friend?" She asked, he nodded his head and hummed. "For a few years now, actually. He uh, moved to New Orleans not too long ago though."

"Did you take any other habits, like ones that aren't taking 5 years off your lifespan?" She questioned with a chuckle and a smirk.

He thought for a moment, and before he could say no he realized. He looked down for a bit and nodded. "Music,"

She looked at him and put the file on her desk, "Like?"

"No its no specific g-genre but when he uh," He swallowed, pierced his lips together for a moment and leaned back on the desk. "When he was packing, he was playing a specific song. I can't remember the name. And I have an eidetic memory," He laughed, somewhat disappointed.

"I play the song in my head, everyday. I can remember all the lyrics, just not the name. And it's my favorite." He taps the desk softly.

"I think about it a lot, like it replays uh... in my head."

"Well, what are the lyrics? Or, what's the melody." She asked. If she was good with anything, it was music. He begun to hum softly, a little too softly out of being shy about it but she caught on.

As he slowly begun to get more vocal with it and then stopped, her mind thought back to that broken radio from the dream. Her face got drained of all color. What are the odds.

It was playing that same song: Flightless bird, American mouth.

She said it out loud, to which Spencer's face lit up, nodding in agreement. "Y-yes! That's the one--" He stopped abruptly when he noticed her face didn't light up as his did. He wasn't gonna press her on it, he just thanked her.

For a bit, they talked. He cracked jokes, she made sarcastic remarks.

She smiled, a lot. At him. And he smiled a lot, at his random facts and statistics he continued to consciously recite.

As they were walking out of the building, he volunteered to walk her to her car.

To which she only appropriately responded by offering to give him a ride home so he didn't have to ride the subway. As they were in the car, he was fascinated by how reckless someone could drive yet still be obeying all traffic laws. However, he was used to it. Morgan drove a lot. And his thoughts wandered off for a bit before being pulled back into reality, "Just make a right off I-195." He nodded softly.

He began to think again, before Valley turned on the Radio, switching through the channels because for whatever reason most of them were coming out as static.

"Hey,"

"Hm?" She responded.

"TPOT, is debatably one of the most detailed and hard to remember psychology books of all time. Mostly because of how specific it is."

"It's still a best seller," She added.

"Its still hard to remember. Especially to be able to cite it, like you did. I have an eidetic memory, so I guess what I'm asking is... what's your excuse?" He said jokingly. "How do you know it like the back of your hand, as you said it." Valley just shook her head, laughing it off as she stopped at a red light.

"C'mon I'm serious!" He said while smiling, licking his chapped licks and then staring at the window, then back towards her. "The Psychology of Ownership and Territory is one of my favorite books of all time, I just got to make sure I have no competition."

She looked at him and laughed, stopping at the red light. "Isn't that kind of contradicting? Your territorial about a book that literally teaches you why it is dangerous to be territorial?" She chuckled as she was speaking, the conversation genuinely interesting her for the most part.

She put one of her elbows on the glass, one hand on the wheel and rested her head on her fist.

"I wrote it." She says bluntly, his eyes widening as he turns to her. "But, the author reads as--"

"Vinny, Brown." She finishes for him, "Well, that's typically a masculine name.".

"Doctor Reid, what do you think my middle name is? I had to use it, I had to." She said, tapping the wheel as she got back on the highway. She thought about it and shook her head. "In a man dominated field who would take a book by a woman serious if its not about sexually motivated crimes?" She asked him, intending for it to be rhetorical.

He stayed silent for a bit before turning his head to look at her, just to look back forward. "Me," He begins. "And with a book that great, I'd, well I'd make sure everyone did too.. Her stomach felt a certain way after that sentence. It felt soft, fuzzy. And lingering first day jitters were gone. Any thought of the flashbacks, gone. The irking feeling of the dream she had to deal with, was gone.

She had never been talked about in that way, and anytime it was made it known that a woman wrote the books; all interest faded. He was different though. All she could do was smile.

The radio frequency began to scratch the noise irritating her ears before a calming melody begun playing. But, it didn't affect her anymore. It was as if he took that away too.

She laughed and so did he, as the conversation begun flowing between the two again.

Morgan was right... He really is a wonderful boy. What are the odds.

NOW PLAYING: FLIGHTLESS BIRD, AMERICAN MOUTH.

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{— QUANTICO, VA } BROWN RESIDENCE || 7:47 10/02/05 }

(LISTEN WITH MUSIC FOR A BETTER EXPIRENCE.)

In the morning, the sun is bright, and the sunlight is warm and not harsh. The birds keep chirping, and the breeze is cool. The leaves of the plants are covered from the dew drops. The level of noise pollution in the mornings is less than at other times of the day. It was a peaceful morning for Val as her eyes seeped open.

 She sat up as her alarm vibrated against the nightstand. Her eyes open, but her mind is still soft. She hit it, slamming her hand against it. It did not help. At all. She was certainly sure to spite her, it had rung even louder. A groan escaped her lips as she breathed in and out to calm her nerves. She then continued by throwing then device across the wall, which still vibrated. She close to screaming, yes she was. The ringing finally stopped and gave her time to collect her thoughts. She stood up and thought about making her bed but decided to do it once she finished getting herself ready. She looked at the time on her watch, seeing it was only 7' O'clock, giving her enough time to shower before someone woke up.

It's a crisp October morning. Unbeknownst to her, her boyfriend is using her kitchen for what had to be the first time since he first practically "moved" into her apartment. Among the many skills he lied about having, cooking was one of them. He decided to make do with what she had in the fridge, without permission, without asking, he took out her daughters lunch for the day, and microwaved it.

Valley walked out into the Kitchen to see the half naked man standing in the middle of her kitchen, eating something that he knew wasn't his. "Dude," She said in an obviously annoyed tone. "that's hers." she muttered, somewhat shoving him out the way as she takes the Sandwich from his hand and closes the lunchbox back up. He stands there obviously frustrated as he rolls his eyes and looks through her cabinets, again without permission. "Really? didn't have her name on it." Looking over at him with a disgusted expression, she put the food back in her refrigerator. She scrambled around the living room to find a bunch of removed clothes on the floor and threw them at Nick, in which he returned the unpleasant facial expression. Dealing with him, was like having two children instead of one. The only thing good about him was tucked away in his boxers. He made it very obvious he had no care for her daughter, both meaning that he didn't mind her having one and he had no intention of treating her like she was his. 

Valley knew this, which is why it never got serious with Nick. He was replaceable, but what was in his pants? Never gonna be anything like it. Which is also why she didn't get rid of him, she knew that deep down he cares a lot for her. And its not that she cares for him, but he cares about her enough that she doesn't have to care about herself. Bad argument? Makeup sex. Aggravated? He pays for takeout. No car? Use his, better yet, he'll buy her one. Nick thinks that woman are nothing more than pets. The more you give them what want, the more they stop barking. Val knows what kind of guy Nick is, and the more she keeps barking, the more she gets. She was a feminist, she just took advantage of the fact that Nick... wasn't. 

"Yeah I'll let her know to do that when she can hold a marker straight," She said sardonically, looking back to see the man only in boxers standing there picking food out his teeth. God its like his frame was hand-sculpted by God himself. 

"But dude seriously put some clothes on before she wakes-- Matter of fact why are you still here? You were supposed to leave before sunrise what happened?" She asked , as she whined in pain from stepping on toddlers toys. He ignores her question for a few seconds, struggling to put back on his jeans, however she didn't mind sneaking a quick peak. "It was a thunderstorm out there this morning Van- Val." He muttered, which confused her quite a bit but she chose to ignore it. "What you want me to go out there and get struck by lightning? Hm? You wanna get rid of me that quick?" He joked, holding her waist and snuggling into the crevice of her neck, kissing on her shoulder softly. 

"Of course not... you haven't put me in your will yet." She said, politely shoving his face off of her. "Seriously, out."

He shot his hands up in defense, and snuck a quick kiss on her lips. She didn't kiss him back. 

He grabbed his coat from the hanger, and shut the door behind him. Finally, he was gone. She let out a heavy sigh, and tidied up the floor and dishes before getting ready for work. 

The sound of light footsteps grew louder as a toddler made her way into the spacious living room. Valley turned her head and smiled, her heels clacking as looked into living room mirror while fixing her earrings, seeing the tawny beige skinned little girl in the view. 

It was her little girl, Lani. Lani was tall for her age, she has long legs like her Mother. She has woolish hair, with light skin and rosy cheeks, which matched the color of her plump lips she got from her Momma. The one thing that Valley loved most about her, were her eyes. She had eyes as mosey green and still as water in summer. It always fascinated Val how beautiful her daughter was. That's one thing Lani would always know, because no matter what, that's the one thing she will always be reminded. 

Lani had her hands behind her back and her leg rubbed into the floor, her eyes looked up at her mother pleadingly. "Go now?" She asked, her thrusting out her lower lip into a sad pout. Val picked her baby up, and rubbed her back, softly bouncing her in her arms. Lani knew the answer.

After Lani was born, Val took a break from work. A very long leave, actually for 23 months. She had to focus on her main priority. That's all Lani was. But occasionally she used to leave a lot, so Lani never saw her much. Until around 9 months ago, were she became more of a homebody when she met Nick. She didn't have to do things anymore, she didn't have to go out, go to group therapy meetings, socialize like she was ordered to for her mental health, she had Nick. He was a therapist, partner, and friend in one. Plus a bank account, of... course, that not the only reason she liked him though. Lani and her mom grew closer, like inseparable. Kahlani was her first child, and there's no love matched like your first. But a few weeks ago, she sat her daughter down. And as easily as one could explain to a one year old, she told her that she was going to start seeing mommy a lot less. 

So for the past 8 weeks, every time she wakes up in the morning and sees her mom, she asks "Go now?". It was sweet at first, until Val realized eventually she would have to say yes. And she could bring herself to do that. She couldn't bring herself to let her poor baby down like that. She just couldn't. 

With a soft kiss on her babies face, she sat her down in her high chair as she checked her watch and realized she would have to get on the road soon. She looked through the fridge and took out simple ingredients for pancakes. She wanted to make sure this moment was special. 

She let Kahlani do most of the pouring, and a few eggshells, messy flour and a lot of burnt pancakes later, they finally got a perfect batch. Somehow, her work clothes were fine, other than some flour on her pencil skirt, but who would notice that? 

After Kahlani's breakfast, she carried her into her room and sat her on her mini vanity dresser. It was organized, yet had toys, mini mouse perfumes, lip balms and again, more toys on it. Kahlani has been interested in feminine things since she could talk, which she takes after from her Momma. She let Lani gel her own hair, which she giggled whiled doing. She parted her hair down the middle, doing 2 sections of square parts with a braid down the middle, into a pig tail. She did the same for the other side, she then undid the lower part of both braided pig tail, brushing out her daughters coily hair and decorating both sides with a a pink bow. She took an edge brush, and looked into her daughter light green eyes with a smile, as she put swoops in her baby hairs.

She then got her dressed, a long-sleeve uniform sweater with a cargo skirt and knee-high socks with navy blue Jordans, spraying her with expensive smelling perfume. She begun to praise the looks of her daughter. giving her Mom a kiss on the cheek before hugging her. It was 8:30. Shit, she was late. 

Valley grabbed Kahlani, and took the elevator down. She lived on the highest floor of her penthouse apartment, so it took around 5 minutes to get there. With Kahlani on her hip resting her head on her shoulder, the toddler began to slowly drift off to sleep, breathing into her moms neck. It melted her heart. 

She walked into the lobby and waved at a few of her neighbors who were sitting down in the autumn scented lobby. It felt like the walk from the elevator the lobby was longer than the walk to the valet. Which, it was. The valet was just outside. 

She was handed her keys, and she beeped her car open, setting Lani down in her car seat, on her way to drop her off and then keep it moving all the way to Headquarters, and the drive was menacing. Her heart was racing the closer she got, 8 miles away, to 6 miles, to 3 miles. She hasn't seen anyone, in almost 2 years. 

It didn't feel real. She was practicing her smile, just keep smiling. Don't let anyone think back to that day. Keep smiling. You're not smiling wide enough, you're smiling too wide. Some part of her told her to just turn around. Do the whole two years, get extra time with Kahlani. But another part told her that she was just making excuses. She just didn't want to be pitied, and too bad. If she can't handle being viewed as weak, she wouldn't be able to stand for what she stood for.

Joining the BAU, was an access point for her. It was a chance to show the world, young girls that no matter of their gender they can and will be taken seriously, if they take it. Don't ask for anyone's respect, take it. Being treated as less than, was the whole reason she did what she did. The sacrifices she had to make, the time she had to spare, and the trauma she had to deal with to get to where she was. And she would be damned if she threw that away just because of what someone who did nothing for her, talks about her. Forget that. That's not gonna happen.

The elevator wasn't any better, her heart was beating and it felt like it would rip out of her chest. Her muscles felt weak, her stomach felt like it was giving up on itself, her eyes got dry and she couldn't stop shivering.