Supercut [ spencer reid x reader ] ✔️

VIII.

The tears spill onto Spencer's cheeks, and he shakes his head. "She understood me, Elle. She was my best friend, and I messed it up. I left her standing on that stupid sidewalk three years ago today, and I know she was waiting for me, and I never called." He's full on crying now, body shaking slightly.

Spencer doesn't like hugs—but he doesn't object when Elle pulls him in for one. He wraps his arms around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. She rubs his back as he cries, Spencer's thoughts filled with thoughts of the day he left her standing there. And he had promised—he'd promised her it wasn't the end. A promise that was quickly broken.

After a few minutes, Spencer pulls away, sniffling and wiping his eyes. He meets Elle's worried gaze, giving her a small smile.

"Thanks, Elle," he whispers.

"You're welcome, Spencer." Her voice is soft, eyes scanning his face.

"Please...please don't tell anyone about that," Spencer requests. "I don't really want the team to inquire about my past."

Elle gives him a smile. "I won't. You have my word."

A sharp pang rings through Spencer's chest but he forces a smile. Elle motions her head toward the building.

"Come on. They're about to brief us on a new case. Gideon and the rest of the team are waiting for you."

Elle turns around and Spencer's smile fades as he walks into the building, the phone burning a hole in his pocket.

"Yeah, sure." You pull the door open, moving aside so Spencer can walk in.

He crosses the threshold into your hotel room, and you close the door, turning back around. Spencer rocks on his heels, hands still in his pockets. He's still wearing his work clothes. You give him a smile, moving to walk over to your bed. You sit crisscross toward the middle, Spencer turning around to look at you.

"What did you wanna talk about?" You ask him, watching Spencer's eyes scan your face.

He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning on his right hand. "I'm sorry."

"You already apologized, Spencer," you say quietly, putting your hands in your lap.

Spencer shifts, mirroring your position, sitting crisscross across from you. "I know. But I feel like I need to do it again." Spencer runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. "I fucked it up, Ace. I fucked it all up. And it's my fault. It's my fault you were hurting."

You swallow the lump in your throat, averting your gaze to your hands, ignoring the sting of tears in your eyes. "Spencer—"

"Ace," Spencer interrupts. "Stop. Let me apologize." You're quiet, and Spencer puts his finger under your chin, pulling your head up so you can look at him. "I am so sorry, Ace. I'm sorry I couldn't let myself love you the way I wanted to. The way you needed to be loved." His lower lip trembles, his hazel eyes searching yours. "I'm sorry I hurt you. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you."

You're quiet, feeling the warm tears fall down your cheeks. "Were you hurting, too, Spencer?"

"That's not—"

"Spencer," you say firmly. "Were you hurting, too?"

He hesitates a moment before making eye contact with you again. "Yes."

"I'm sorry," you whisper, reaching over to cup his cheek with your hand, thumb brushing over a tear that had escaped.

Spencer's eyes search yours and he leans into your touch. "Please don't apologize to me. You didn't...you didn't do anything. It's my fault."