How Dare You [ReidxReader]

(21) Fallout

When Spencer and you enter the bar, he still looks like he is in another dimension. Of course, it's a fancy place. Rossi greets you with a bright smile and you're glad that you put on a nice blazer and your hair up properly.

Morgan and Garcia are already sitting at the bar, ordering shots. "They really don't waist any time, huh?" You point at them. Rossi chuckles and you sit down next to him, Spencer following you. "What about JJ and Hotchner?" You ask. Rossi shrugs his shoulder.

A waitress comes over to take your order, before you can open your mouth Rossi choses your drinks. You know that Spencer probably doesn't want any alcohol, so you add a diet coke to the order.

He gives you a thankful smile when you slide it towards him. Rossi scuffs, but laughs when you take both drinks he ordered for Spencer and you. You try them and conclude: "Impeccable."

Finally, Hotchner and JJ come in. JJ sits down next to Spencer, Hotchner on the other side of Rossi. You ask Rossi how he heard of you. It's pleasant chatting with him, even though Hotchner is listening and observing every move you make.

When you turn away from Rossi to take a sip of your drink(s), you realize what Spencer has been doing the whole time. Him and JJ are chatting quietly, leaning towards each other. You know that it's stupid. You know that Spencer and you just had sex. But it still makes your heart heavy. Are you too possessive? Do you expect him to be as isolated as you are? Basically, you are only spending time with him and occasionally with your ex-partner from the DEA.

You excuse yourself and get up to go to the bathroom. Eying yourself up and down, you let cold water run over your wrists. The blow you took to your forehead left a visible scar. One of many. Your eyes look tired. Suddenly, the insides of your elbows start to itch. It's like they have been lit on fire.

Ripping the blazer off you, you push your blouse up to examine them. They seem redder than usual. You start to rub them as if you could scratch them off your skin. Your breathing and pulse quicken. Focus.

Stumbling backwards into a stall, you try to calm yourself down. Your whole body feels like it's on fire and freezing at the same time. You feel every single scar and mark on your skin. Rubbing your thighs, you try to ground yourself. You're so fucked up. Way too fucked up for someone precious like Spencer. JJ isn't like that. She is small and cute and sweet.

Why are you spiraling so hard? Is it because your body isn't used to the amount of endorphins you felt earlier? Are you crashing like you are coming down from a trip? Come on. You have been gone for way too long already. Get out, smile, make it through another hour, go home.

- - - - - - - - - -

Spencer briefly touches your thigh when you sit back down, and you give him a forced smile. You empty both of your glasses and tell Rossi to choose something else for you. He happily obliges.

Exactly one hour later, you declare that you are leaving. You are more than buzzed and have to try really hard to walk straight. "Should we share a taxi?" Spencer offers, his eyes sparkling. You cannot bear it. "Nah, stay if you want to." You dismiss him.

Even though you are intoxicated, you see how he looks at JJ for a second before he gets up: "No, I'm tired." Spencer waves everyone goodbye and follows you. Hotchner announces that he will leave soon as well. You hear the team say something, but you are no longer listening.

In the taxi, you ask Spencer: "Did you have fun?"

He nods: "Yeah, surprisingly I enjoyed it."

"You should do it more often then." You tell him and look out the window.

After you said that, you feel the energy shift. Spencer doesn't say anything until you are close to your apartment. "Can I come up?" He asks, audibly insecure.

"Sure." You answer and get out.

He catches up to you and puts his arm around your waist. For some reason, the gesture moves you more than usual and you start to tear up. Maybe it's the alcohol. With shaking hands, you try to get the key into the lock of your apartment. After a few seconds, Spencer puts his hand over yours and steadily unlocks the door. He doesn't comment on your inability to open your fucking door, but you feel like shit nevertheless.

"Give me a minute." You tell him and walk to the bathroom before he even fully locked your door. Washing your face, you try to get it together. You throw your blazer onto the dresser and take off your shoes, carelessly kicking them into a corner.

Just talk to him. He has been nothing but sweet and supporting since you got together, but something inside you...shame. You are ashamed. Ashamed of your inadequacy. Of your stupid fucking inability to be touched without getting worked up about it.

You dry off your face and sort out your hair. When you step outside, you see some of Spencer's clothes draped over the armrest of your sofa and the light in the bedroom. You walk towards the door. Why are you hearing papers rustling? When you push open the door, you immediately want to throw up. Spencer is sitting next to your bed and going through your file.

You see the pictures of yourself on a pile next to him. "What the fuck are you doing?" You breathe out.

His head shoots up and his eyes widen at the expression on your face. "I- I thought I...Maybe I would see something..."

There are a lot of things you want to yell at him right now, but you even cannot see properly anymore. You turn away from him and rub your face.

"Leave." You whisper.

He doesn't move. "Leave!" You shout at him.

Spencer scrambles to put everything back into the folder: "I'm sorry, Em, I-"

Him using the pet name hurts you even more.

"Get the fuck out!" You step away from the door to put as much distance as possible between you. When he takes a step towards you, you walk further back: "You saw everything, you know everything. You're done here. Leave."

You point at the door.

Spencer's eyes dart over your face, he looks afraid. "You think that's what this is about?" His voice is trembling. "That you are another case for me?" His voice gets louder with every word.

"I don't care anymore." You state. "You saw it. You can no longer look at me without thinking about it." You take a deep breath: "And I cannot take that. So leave."

Spencer just stands there. He stares at you with pure disbelieve. Eventually, he walks out the room. You don't move a muscle until you hear the door fall shut. Then you sink to the floor, feeling like you will never get up again.