Call Out My Name [spencer reid x reader] ✔︎

13. finish line

There was no way you were gonna let him get away that easy.

Making sure the team wasn't looking, you ran after him, swinging the bathroom door open. Spencer spun around, his eyes wide as he looked at you, heat rushing to his cheeks. "(Y/N)!" He cried, his voice a high-pitched squeak. You walked over to him, placing your hands on your hips. "Y- You can't be in here! What are you-"

"-Save it," you interrupted him, crossing your arms. "Why didn't you ever come and talk to me? What happened? You didn't get trouble, did you?"

"What? No, I didn't. Hotch doesn't know about that. (Y/N), you really should-"

"-No, I'm not leaving. I just... Come on. Talk to me. Please," you pleaded with him. "What the hell happened? Why did Hotch wanna talk to you?"

Spencer looked at you for a moment, the aversion clear in his eyes before he finally sighed, looking away from you as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. He handed it to you, pushing a hand through his hair as he watched you unfold the piece of paper, reading it.

"It's... an invitation," you said, furrowing your brows. "To speak at a high school reunion? I don't see what the problem is."

"Look at the name of the high school."

You did.

"Oh."

It was the same high school that Spencer had graduated from. The high school where you knew he'd been bullied profusely, made fun of for simply being a young, budding genius. Your eyes scanned the invitation, reading it over in your head. "They want you to give a speech on your success as a FBI agent. What's wrong with that?" You asked, looking at him.

"What's wrong is that I don't want to," he grumbled in response as he snatched the letter away from you. "I wasn't even gonna go to the reunion until the school board called Hotch and asked if he'd be willing to give me a few days off so that I could go and speak."

"Well, what did Hotch say?" You asked, leaning back against the counter.

"He told them that I could do it— that the team has a few vacation days coming up anyway and that he'd be willing to speak with me about going. So they emailed him a copy of the invitation, and, well," Spencer waved the invitation in the air before folding it up and pushing it back into his pocket, sighing.

"But you don't want to."

"Of course I don't want to. You think I wanna have to go back and see the same people who made my life a living hell all throughout high school and just give them another reason to hate me by 'sharing my success story?' Absolutely not," Spencer groaned, leaning back against the counter beside you, rubbing his eyes with his hands. "I know it's silly to be so upset over something so trivial, but I-"

"-Hey," you quickly cut him off as you reached up, placing your hand over his shoulder. "It's not silly." He pulled his hands away from his face, crossing his arms in front of him as he sighed. "I'm sorry," you said, looking at him.

"It's fine," he replied, shaking his head. "It's not your fault. I just... I never wanted to have to go back to that horrible place."

"Well, why don't you take me with you?"

Spencer looked at you as he uncrossed his arms. "I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't. I offered. You said it yourself— we have a few vacation days coming up. Take me with you! I mean— I've got nothing better to do." You looked up at him as you smiled. "Give yourself a chance to prove to them that you're not the loser they said you were. You're so much more than that. Come on— I'll even be your own personal cheerleader! What do you say?"