north//spencer reid

chapter thirteen

genre: angst

pairing: season twelve spencer reid x female oc

warnings: prison arc, blood, implications of being drugged, self harm under implications of being drugged, physical violence, mentions of abuse

word count: 8.2k

summary: spencer's post-mexico hardships continue on and get much worse, while amelia has a concerning experience in her own apartment.

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SPENCER

The feeling of abandonment is one that I'm far too familiar with. I hadn't expected to be completely abandoned by the FBI and to not have their support in this battle. I know that I have the support of my team and of Amelia, but when the FBI says that they won't support me and help me stay out of jail or prison, it's disheartening. It's crushing. It leaves me feeling cold as I sit against a cinderblock wall.

Sitting in jail is boring. It is, by far, the most boring thing I've ever done in my life. I sit and stare at the wall all day while I regret my decisions and listen to the detainees around me scream and shout. The team individually comes by the visit but it's only for a short amount of time because they're working so hard. They're working on my case at the same time they're working on other cases that they would normally take and I know that they can't come to entertain me. I fully understand why, but I wish it didn't have to be this way. I wish I could be home.

But Amelia never comes. I told her not to come. She doesn't need to see me like this. She has seen enough. I'm a completely broken mess, rotting away in a jail cell and I don't need her crying over me or providing more content for her nightmares. I asked Emily to relay this message to her and I was told she cried and didn't speak to anyone for a few hours. She's been staying in a BAU interview room and will only go home for a few hours every few days, and I don't blame her. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't want to go home. But it breaks my heart to know how much Amelia is hurting without me and that I can't help her. I choose to pretend like she doesn't exist so I won't think about her. I pretend like I'm living the way I was before I met her. Alone, work-obsessed, with nobody but myself to confide in. It's easy to forget her during the day when there's a stream of sunlight flooding in from the tiny window to my right. But then I lay down at night and reach for her waist, or wait to feel her hand on my cheek, or crane my neck to kiss her, I crash back down to earth and remember that I can't be with the woman I love because of my idiotic decisions.

Emily manages to get me in touch with an old friend hers who is willing to be my lawyer, a wonderful woman named Fiona. She's blunt and she knows what she's talking about and I appreciate that. And now that I have representation, we can move onto the trial and maybe I can go home. I try to absorb some of Amelia's optimism and stay hopeful that I'll be released on bail, but my own nasty pessimism rears its ugly head and pulverizes any sign of hope.

Fiona wants me to plead guilty to a crime I didn't commit. I'll only get two to five years as opposed to twenty-five to life, but how could I plead guilty? My memories may be blurry for the first time ever but I know I would never kill that woman. That medicine she was providing me with helping my mom. Why would I kill her? There was another person in that motel room and if my brain would just cooperate and just confirm that it was Scratch, this could all be over.

If I plead guilty then Fiona says I can be released on bail pending trial. Rossi said he would be willing to post my bail, no matter the cost. I'm grateful for him and his generosity but as I spend my time sitting and staring at the wall and the ceiling and the concrete and the mold, the more I don't want to plead guilty. I want to fight this. I have complete faith in my team and their abilities to find Scratch. We found him once and we'll find him again.