The Dancer: A Spencer Reid Love Story

Chapter 16

"He gave me a year."

"He's wrong."

"Is he? I haven't been doing to well."

"We'll get another one. We'll get you on new medication."

"Spencer-"

"No, Bianca," I began to cry. "You can't just give up. I can't handle that."

"So you want to leave."

"No. I love you."

She moved over to me and dragged me back to her bedroom, sitting me on her bed, and pulling me close to her. I sobbed into her shirt, and she ran her hand through my hair.

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll try whatever experimental treatments you want, Spencer. I just need to be realistic about everything. I'm never going back to school. My body is too weak."

"You don't know that," I sobbed.

At that moment, our primal instincts took over. We showered together and made love on her bed. Perhaps it wasn't perfect timing, but it was what we needed in that moment of grief and confusion. Morgan tried to get me to. One out with them, I was scared of something happening to her. We were laying on her couch. I had Doctor Who playing on the television. I tried to get her to watch something she wanted, but she made me pick.

While the show was playing, I was on my laptop skimming journal articles on pulmonary complications. There were so many causes, and so many treatments. There had to be a solution, and I was going to find it.

My skimming was interrupted by Bianca beginning a coughing fit. She was trying to stop it, so that I wouldn't worry. I took her hand. The wheezing turned into gasping. She fainted in my arms, while I was trying to hand her the inhaler. I laid her across the couch, kneeling down next to her. Her breath was so ragged. I quickly got her oxygen therapy, fearful of what might happen if she didn't receive that.

Twenty minutes had passed. She was breathing better, but not fully conscious. Blood was slowly falling out of her right nostril. I sat down on the floor, in defeat, tears stinging my eyes.

An hour passed, and I was blankly watching Dr. Who. Bianca was asleep, with dried blood coating her nose and lips. The only sound in the room was the tv, so I jumped when Bianca's phone rang. I grabbed it in anger. Who in their right mind was calling her right now? When I looked down, I saw a blocked number. I knew it had to be Bruce.

I held the phone up to my ear, glancing in Bianca's direction, as I picked up the call. "What do you want?" I asked, turning away from Bianca as I posed the question.

"Spencer? Why are you answering this call?" Bruce mocked.

"Stay away from her," I spat.

"She wants to come back with me."

"She doesn't."

"That night, Spencer. In the bar, we hooked up."

"That means nothing."

"It means everything. Bianca loves me."

"You took everything from her. Leave her alone, Bruce."

"I'll get her back soon. Her place is with me. I watched her for years at The Sax."

"If you come near her, I'll kill you," I threatened, quickly hanging up the phone, as I did so.

"Spencer," Bianca whispered. I turned back to her, rushing to the couch.

"Hey," I responded, taking a tissue, trying to remove the blood from her nose and mouth.

"Did I fall asleep?"