1 out of 150//Spencer Reid

31. Identity

Y/N wasn't going to lie. Since she finished the cognitive, she hadn't been doing well. The memory had plagued her and she couldn't get any rest. Hotch had insisted that she go home and relax. He thought that by having her at the BAU, he was risking her mental and emotional stability even more. She had been emotionally impacted by her best friend being kidnapped and mentally impacted with the unsub going unidentified.

So, Y/N said goodbye to the team and headed to Spencer's apartment. She took the backpack with her, trying to calm herself down. She made herself a tea and sat down on Spencer's couch, admiring his large book collection. She picked a random novel and started to read. She could at least distract herself with a random story, rather than focusing on the state of her best friend.

She wondered how Spencer was able to read half of the books he owned. Most of them seemed to be between 1000 and 2000 words, some of them having over 50 chapters that were incredibly long. Her wonder quickly subsided when she remembered that her boyfriend could read 20,000 words per minute.

Soon enough, Y/N's eyes became heavy, and she quickly put the book back where it was and headed to the bedroom, intending to try and get as much sleep as possible. The moment her head hit the pillow her eyes closed and she started to dream. For the first time in a while, she was calm. She wasn't worried about work, about the profiler exam or the impending rescue of her best friend. For a brief moment, she worried that by not working, she was letting Alyssa down. But, the thought quickly disappeared when she figured that by being well rested, her mind would be sharper, and she'd be able to help out more.

Y/N stood in front of the same man that she had only seen glimpses of before. His face was obscured.

"Do you have it?" Y/N asked.

"Yes, yes. $25 for the murders and $25 for the cheating. $50 all together." The man exhaled.

"Y'know, now that I think about it, I'm sure you've done some pretty bad things." The man spoke, clearly unimpressed.

"I'm not the jerk who cheated on his wife and proceeded to murder the women he cheated with." She scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"I could always just...make you forget what you saw." He chuckled.

"Then you'd have to deal with my mother, and you don't want that." She snapped back, not letting him intimidate her.

"I don't give a shit about dealing with your mother. You're the one causing me trouble, so being rid of you would be in my best interested." He hissed.

She didn't even flinch. The fiercer she got, the angrier he seemed to become.

"I'm not afraid of you." Y/N smirked.

"And I'm not afraid of you." He forcefully grabbed onto her arm. He had just grabbed her, yet it felt like he had been tightly grabbing her arm for hours. She knew for a fact that if his grip got any tighter, a bruise would form once he finally let go.

"If you weren't afraid of me, you wouldn't be paying me $50 per week to keep your secrets." Y/N replied, trying to keep calm.

Without warning, his grip on her arm got tighter, as she expected. She felt sick. She was fearful at this very moment, but there was no way she'd show him how she really felt. As long as she was in his view, she'd continue to present herself as a strong individual, and not a scared child who wanted to escape a dangerous situation.

"Don't sass me...you bitch." He growled. Y/N wanted the pain to end. She glanced down at the lower half of his body.

He wore black boots, similar to the ones you'd wear in the army. Between the fabric of his pants and the edge of his shoes, Y/N could tell that he wore plain black socks. His pants were dark gray suit pants that seemed to be tailored to fit him. His belt was black with a shiny silver buckle.