nemesism // spencer reid angst

the same things happening to me all the time, even in my dreams

"You okay in there?" Derek's concerned voice traveled through the crack in the door. Spencer didn't swear very often, so when he did, it worried everyone. He cursed a lot during recovery.

"Um. Yeah, I need to do something though. Promise I'm safe, just have to take care of something." Spencer hoped that was enough to ward Derek off. He reached for his first aid kit under the sink.

"What are you doing?"

"Just... just taking care of myself." He was trying so hard to not get Derek involved in the mess of cleaning and re-bandaging his cuts. Spencer carefully took his shirt off and began to unwrap the bandages.

"Spencer, shit." Derek had materialized at the bathroom door, pushing it open slightly. Spencer jumped and turned to face him. He hated how quickly and easily Derek could sneak up on him. Derek's eyes were wandering all over his upper body, taking in the sheer amount of scars on his arms, chest, and sides. Spencer held his breath, imagining what Derek would think if he could see his thighs too. For a moment, they both just stood there looking at each other, unsure of what to do next.

"Derek." Spencer was speaking robotically now. "Um, I'm okay. I've got this."

"What- hey, let me help you with that." Derek gestured towards Spencer's halfway uncovered arm. Spencer froze, contemplating his options. He could take care of it on his own and keep some of his self-respect, or he could let Derek take some of the burden from him and deal with the shame that came with it.

"Okay. But only because I feel like I'm slogging through mud and can't really do anything." Spencer sighed heavily and sat down on the closed toilet seat. He could feel Derek's eyes on him and he wasn't sure what to say. Instead of speaking, he simply looked at the ground in embarrassment.

"Alright, let me see." Spencer offered it over and Derek finished removing the bandaging. After getting a look at the cuts, he said, "This is probably going to hurt a good bit, pretty boy."

"Don't. Don't call me that. You know now that it's not true." Spencer bit his lip and frowned.

"Spencer, you'll always be my pretty boy. You have scars, so what? They don't make me see you any differently. You are perfect." Derek spoke softly and slowly as he wet a cloth and began to wipe the area off. "How long ago did this happen?"

"Uh. Um." Spencer hesitated, unsure of how to answer. He really didn't want to admit that it had happened when Derek was standing only a room away.

"I'm not going to judge you, I promise."

"When we got back. When I went to the bathroom to change." Spencer admitted quietly.

"Oh, Spencer. I'm sorry. You could've come to me." Derek sighed. There was a moment of painful silence as Derek finished wiping the blood away, broken only when he sucked in a deep breath and asked, "Do you have any butterfly bandages?"

"I need butterfly bandages?" Spencer stammered, surprised at the comment. He made himself look up from the floor and at his newly cleaned cuts.

Spencer sat in shocked silence as he surveyed his arm. He leaned forward slightly to get a better look. Some of the deeper cuts were still oozing blood and they seemed to be looking up at him, saying, "look what you've done; you're disgusting, Spencer".

"Shit. I- I didn't even realize they were this bad. How did I not see them literally gaping open?" Spencer's eyes remained open wide. He could feel Derek's eyes on him, watching his reaction.

"Do you have them?" Derek asked softly.

"Um, yeah, they're in the bottom of the- the thing." Spencer gestured towards the first-aid kit with his free arm, refusing to pull his eyes away from his wounds.