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Margo Ross felt suffocated in the room -- as if all of the walls were slowly closing in on her. She hadn't spoke since she had been taken from her house and to the hospital by the police; she didn't want to stay there but she had nowhere else to go either and she hated it. She couldn't go to her house and she had no other family. As a woman in her early thirties, she had a good life once, working and studying with her own apartment that she had loved but with the tragic death of her mother and brother she gave all that up to help her father cope.
The doctors had given her a blood transfusion to replace all of the red fluid that she had lost, they had stitched up her knife wound and done medical checks on every part of her body to find out what had happened to her because she would not speak to any one of them. They knew what had happened to her father, that bit was pretty obvious. It was just her that was a mystery. The police had tried to question her but she couldn't bring herself to repeat the scene that would not get out of her head. She was trying to block it out, not think of it.
She had been sitting in the room they had given her in silence for the past hour or so: it could have been longer, she didn't think it was worth checking the time. She had been told that she would have to stay in hospital for a good while and she wondered what she would do afterwards. The wound wasn't the thing that hurt the most, it was the mental stuff that had been bothering her like hell so she presumed that was what they wanted to watch too.
She felt a presence and that didn't feel so good because last time she had felt that, it had been the man in the mask.
Turning her head quickly to see a man standing behind the glass window of her room; he was peering at her curiously like she was some sort of exhibit in a freak show. She noticed that the mans hair was mousy and messy, she would have thought it was cute if she had been in her normal state of mind. Before she could wonder what had was doing he had turned the handle and walked in with a nervous cough of some sort.
"Hi, I'm Dr Spencer Reid."
Margo kept quiet, not wanting or feeling the need to utter a single word. She didn't know who the man was so there was definately no trust there. Everybody wanted to use her for the information that was stormed in her haunted brain and giving it to them would be no aid to her.
Spencer walked quickly (genuinly scared to trip over) towards a table in the far end of the room and picked up the chair that was at the table. He placed it down in front of the bed that she was sitting on but then he had to pick it up again because it was not exactly in the middle and his ocd kicked in. His neurotic behaviour bothered him because he thought that she'd be judging him for it like everybody else did.
On the contrast though, Margo was not judging Spencer at all. Instead she was watching the way he moved and dressed (his cardigan buttoned completely and his tie straight in the middle of his shirt) and she was reminded of the brother that she had lost and missed majorly. It made her nostalgic to picture his auburn hair that was always kept neat and the mannerisms that he was teased for by everybody except her and their parents who understood that he just had a beautiful way of thinking.
"I'm from the FBI." Spencer carried on his introduction. "The BAU specifically."
Margo's eyebrows, which had previously been perfectly plucked because she despised it when they weren't but now had stray little hairs around the ends, furrowed slightly. Spencer noticed this and was very aware that he didn't look like the typical special agent that you saw in films and television.
"I don't kick in the doors, most of the time." He attempted to joke but it only left the awkward moment of him pretending to laugh and Margo left unamused.
It wasn't that she disliked the man, she could see his antsy attitude and found it rather intriguing. She would have liked the laugh but it was almost like the happy part of her brain had been switched off. Also, she couldn't get the idea that he just wanted to know what had went on out of her head, he would leave after he found out that information.
"I'm sorry about what happened."
Margo shook her head at his words, everybody that she had seen since she had left her house had been apologising to her. She didn't understand people saying sorry for things they had nothing to do with -- empathy was fine but pity made her feel so much smaller than she actually was. Her grief was nobody elses business.
"That was the wrong thing to say." Spencer said aloud, thinking that everything he was saying was wrong. "I'm sorry."
It went silent in the room and it matched the flustered atmosphere in the room. They both avoid looking at each other because they each so scared of the other. He hated the shambles he was making of the task that he had been assigned and she hated the feeling that she wanted to blurt speech out to him.
"I knew I wouldn't be able to do this." He muttered to himself. "I told them."
The atmosphere grew even tenser and Spencer could not stand to be in their one more second -- leave it to him to mess up so badly in front of a flawless girl.
"I'm just going to go." He stood up quickly. "I've done so badly."
Before he could leave, he moved the chair he had been sitting on back into the exact place that it had been before he had layed his hands on it. He basically ran towards the door but he turned when she whispered quietly, almost as if he had sensed the words that escaped from her lips.
"You didn't do that badly."
•
Spencer walked out of the room quickly with shame and embarrasment enveloping him like a fog cloud. He was plagued by the thought that Margo had clearly not wanted to speak to him at all and he thought that it was solely because of him. He could have swore that she said something as he left but he was sure that if she did it must have been a curse or insult towards him. He was awful in social situations generally but it had been worse in front of Margo.
JJ was walking down the hospital corridors and saw her friend walking forwards with a large frown on his face. She was aware that he could be affected deeply by things and wondered what had happened while speaking to Margo Ross.
"Are you okay?" Spencer looked up at JJ.
"It was bad in there." He shook my head. "She wont speak to me."
JJ smiled comfortingly. "You weren't in there that long. Take a break and try again."
"Why can't you just go and talk to her." He asked desperately.
