𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 ➵ 𝓼. 𝓻𝓮𝓲𝓭

Chapter 23: She's Your Godmother

{tw - profanity}

YOU HAVE BEEN walking at the side of a not so busy road for ten minutes, each car passing by giving you a small fright before calling yourself stupid and continuing your stroll.

Spencer's words had hurt. As much as you didn't want to believe what he had said, you couldn't help but think about it. What your father put you through was bound to change anyone, even the most sane person alive, right? But you can't help but wonder if it was a bad change, like Spencer's words had implied.

You think back to the day you returned from the hospital, how you had completely broken inside of Spencer's arms, and how he had left while you slept. You had spent the two weeks off reviewing old cases, even ones on the news that hadn't been solved yet, and you figured out that you can't possibly live without your job - it keeps you sane despite everything very insane about it.

You had returned to work as if that night with Spencer hadn't happened. It was a sign of vulnerability, a side of yourself that not many people have seen. You would have kept it that way had Spencer not have provoked the soft side of yourself, and now he had seen it. Perhaps that's why he had left.

But now, you find yourself arriving at the familiar diner where you used to spend all your time as a teenager with your friends. You wonder if they all still live here, it's doubtful any of them left. As you know it, you are the only one out of your friends and family to have ever left. It made you sad when you had originally decided to exit Graysville, but you had known the FBI was a great opportunity, and with the position you're in now, you wouldn't change that for anything.

You slowly push open the diner door, hearing the small bell tinkle above your head. The corners of your lips turn up ever so slightly at the familiar chime, happy that even with the slight refurbishing that has obviously taken place here, one thing has been kept the same.

You seat yourself at an empty booth that has a window next to it, and you lean against the glass and sigh. You know should probably head back to the local PD and talk to Hotch about the hieroglyphics, but you're content with staying where you are. At least for now.

"Would you like anything to eat ma'am?" A female voice asks from beside you.

You know that if you turn your head to face the woman, there's a 99% chance she'll recognise who you are and vice versa. Ignoring her would be bliss but rude, so you release a sigh and turn your head.

You take in the woman before you: her copper locks are tied back into a low bun, loose strands framing her face. Her green, jewel-like eyes glimmer in the light, and they have a friendly glint in them that you remember from so long ago.

"Y/n..." she mutters, looking up from the small notepad in her hands. The pencil she was holding drops from her fingers and taps against the tiled floor, and you can see the way she swallows harshly, but it's not long before a smile replaces her look of shock. She quickly embraces you, to which you return.

"Sit," you smile, gesturing to the seat opposite, "How have you been, Cora?"

The corners of Cora's plump lips turn upwards at the sound of her nickname, and your glad you're still able to use it after so many years.

"I've been good, and..." she trails off, bringing her left hand on top of the table, revealing a shiny ring on her index finger.

You let out a small gasp, grasping her hand in both of yours and inspecting the diamond, "It's beautiful, Cora."

She grins widely, retracting her hand and fiddling with the ring. She raises from her seat momentarily, returning with two drinks - one being your favourite and your usual.