Dune Point {Spencer Reid x Reader}

• Five •

"Y/N, it's me. It's Spencer. Just look at me, okay? Look at me and take a deep breath in for four counts, hold it for four, and let it out for four, okay?" You finally met his fixed stare as he demonstrated.

"In for four..." he took a deep breath in through his nose that lasted four counts.
"Hold for four..." he spoke with his chest raised as he held his breath four counts.
"And out for four." Spencer slowly exhaled through his mouth four counts.

As nice as the sentiment was, breathing exercises never really seemed to soothe you, they usually only made things worse, and you had absolutely no idea why. So, you reluctantly attempted the boxed breathing only to be met with a loud sob that escaped when you tried holding your breath – one you had no idea was bubbling up in the first place. Spencer finally let your hand go as you shook with tears that fell with such power as that of Niagara Falls.

Spencer pulled you into his arms as you crumbled beneath his touch, shushing you softly while you completely broke into pieces. All of those memories of the dark places you'd ever been in your life had rested upon your palm. Just because you never let anyone else see it, doesn't mean you took the time to look at it yourself. Even that day when Spencer irrationally pulled your hand to his to examine it, you'd looked away.

All your life you had burned and moved on, never bothering to look. Why would you look? There was no reason. You burned it for the pain. You did it to feel. Your entire life – no matter how exciting it might have seemed – always felt numb. There was always this grueling feeling of nothingness lurking behind you wherever you went. That nothingness abused you with its sharp-tongued words.

"You're nothing, Y/N. You'll never amount to anything. You're just another stupid rich girl with mommy and daddy's money. You'll never work for anything. You'll always just be nothing." 

Your awful memories of those moments you lit flame to palm ebbed and flowed as your anxious thoughts about how much of a burden your being to Spencer right now swirled around your head. Your mind had become nothing but a paradox of wanting to shrivel away and die, but also wanting to scream and shout at the top of your lungs.

Not before long, you didn't have to worry about your thoughts eventually tearing you apart because they already had. All of the sudden, Spencer's shushing in your ear became distant, the light in the room glowing brighter than you remembered it being. Your breathing began to slow as you drifted off.

Spencer felt your body go limp in his arms, pulling him further down in his kneeling position. "Oh god," Spencer muttered to himself as he took in your supple body. he attempted and succeeded at scooping you up and carrying you to your bedroom, bridal style.

Arriving at your bed, Spencer gently laid you down on your back. He placed a stack of two thick pillows under your legs in order to aid the blood flow to your brain. Then, he ran to grab a cold paper-towel from the kitchen. Spencer sprinted to your sink where there sat a roll of paper towels. He pulled a few and wet them with cold water, sprinting back to aid you.

Spencer lightly draped the folded wet paper towels over your forehead then ran to make sure you were still breathing which, thankfully, you were. Spencer then checked to see if you were wearing any constrictive clothing, lifting your sweater just enough to see if you were wearing a belt which you weren't. Lastly, Spencer ran to your legs. Clasping your ankles in his hands, he lifted your legs a few inches higher than they already were and moved them back and forth in a bicycle motion.

After a few minutes of him exercising your legs, you began to stir, letting your eyes fluttered open, making out a male figure sat in front of you, positioned between your legs, holding your ankles up. Your survival instincts kicked in, and without hesitation, you kicked your right leg at the figure, the heel of your hard-soled sneaker jabbing his cheek.

"Y/N! Shit!" The man let go of your ankles, clutching his face.
Wait, you recognized that voice.

"Spencer?!" You quickly sat up, but the dizziness overcame you forcing you back down.
"What was that for?!" Spencer's high pitched whine rung in your ears while he rubbed his cheek where you'd kicked him.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry! I-I thought you were–I'm sorry!" You sat up a bit slower this time. "W-what happened?"
"Well, you kicked me in the face, that's what happened," Spencer complained but immediately retracting his statement when he saw how unnerved you were. "Sorry, I just... uh... you passed out." This time Spencer spoke with more collectedness.

"Oh." was all you had to reply with, letting your head drop back down onto the pillow beneath you. You brought a hand up to your forehead to massage it, asking if Spencer was okay.
"Yeah, sorry, I'm fine. I just wasn't exactly expecting to be kicked today." He let out a breathy laugh.

"Are-uh you okay?"
"Oh, yeah... sorry about that." You suddenly felt red for what was probably the thousandth time this morning.
"You don't have to be sorry!" Spencer quickly replied. "But are you okay? "
"I will be, thanks." It suddenly clicked where you were.

"Why are we in my room?"
"I just figured, you'd want to go back to sleep when you woke up. It's common to feel fatigue after fainting, that and dizziness and nausea. Speaking of which, is there a trash can in here? Just in case you feel nauseous at all." You laughed at how Spencer was taking care of you like you were a child as he looked around for a trash can.

"I'm a little dizzy, and I'm definitely tired, but don't worry, I'm not gonna vomit all over myself." You joked.
"Well, in that case you should get some rest. I'll finish putting away your sheet music and then start, uh... building your couch? I mean, I won't know where anything goes decoratively, so I guess that's my best bet at the moment: stick to the instructions." Spencer was too nice for your own good... and for his too.

"Spencer, no offense or anything, but I'm not sure you can build that entire couch all by yourself. It's pretty big. I'm not too tired I'll help." As you tried to lift yourself up, Spencer ran up to your side of the bed pushing gently on your shoulder to lay you back down.
"Please, Y/N. Let me do this. I can call Emily?" He suggested it as more of a question, like he was asking for your permission.
"No, wait, I don't want to disturb her. Spencer, it's okay you can just go home or chill here until I wake up or something? I shouldn't be out for too long." You watched as Spencer pondered for a little bit.

Your eyelids grew so heavy you couldn't keep them open for one second longer to hear Spencer's response. You fluttered your eyes shut, and the second you did, you were out like a light.