Warnings: self harm, anxiety. Read with caution and remember to look after yourself first <3
Y/n pov
One. Two. Three.
I press the scissor blade against my thigh roughly, watching the blood slowly draw from the soft skin. My mind is blank, I can't hear anything but my heartbeat as I sit on my bathroom counter, leaning foreword to be able to see the cuts clearly.
It's funny. When I was younger I'd say to myself, "I'd never do things like that- I'm not stupid."
But now, as I sit on my bathroom counter, I stare in silence as my arms go limp. I don't really know why I'm doing this, but I know it stops the feeling of sad emptiness and replaces it with... nothing. It feels like someone literally took a shovel and took everything from my brain, hollowing it out so I didn't have to think anymore.
I put the scissors down and decide that's enough when I get a call-
JJ<3 is calling
I pick up. "Hey, what's up?" I ask, with a slight monotone voice. "Hotch wants us to come in, be here in 30?" She says with her soft morning voice. "Uh, yeah sure. See you there" I hang up before she can respond. At this point, I don't care if they think something's wrong. I'm too emotionally drained to care.
Time skip.
Ding- the elevator doors open slowly. I step out, wearing my long black slacks, white button up, and short black heels.
I walk into the BAU's glass doors and walk to my desk. I walk past Morgan, "Mornin' beautiful" he says with a friendly smile. "Good morning buttercup" I wink with a giggle. Ive always loved the freedom of being able to "flirt" with Derek and not have to worry about a possible romantic relationship- I haven't exactly chosen the best partners in the past.
I walk to my desk, put my small leather bag down. I smile, me and Spencer got matching bags because he had an extra when my old bag broke after a case- I always cherish my memories with him.
"Hey, are you okay y/n?" I turn around on my heel, recognizing the soft voice behind me. "Oh- yeah sorry, I accidentally hung up and was too tired to text back or anything, I'm really sorry.." I put my hands together in a praying motion. "Oh! No worries, I just wanted to check in" she flashes her warm smile, which has never failed to brighten my mood.
As she walks off I turn to grab a coffee from the break room, but as I do, I scrape my freshly cut thighs against the corner of my desk, "shit-" I flinch and grab my thigh, feeling the wound start to open a bit and feeling the trickle of blood slide down my upper thigh. As I'm about to walk to the bathroom, Spencer comes up behind me and steals my attention. "Are you okay? That looks like it hurt.." he stares at the thigh I'm grabbing. Startled, I stutter out, "O-oh I uh.. yeah it hurt- but I-I'm fine don't worry." I forced a smile and stood up straight, trying not to give away it hurt more than it normally would. "I'm gonna.. go make sure I'm not bleeding or bruised in the bathroom real quick- I'll be right back.." I walk past him and walk to the bathroom.
I close the small stall door and lock it. Feeling a bit more secure. I pull down my pants, inspecting the soon-to-be bruise. Fuck. I think to myself. I grab some toilet paper and clean up the blood, making sure not the let any drip. Once I'm all cleaned up, I pull my pants up, wash my hands, and leave the restroom. As I walk out I notice that none of the team is in the office, I look through the glass wall to the bullpen and see them there. Fuck I'm late-
I speed walk to the bullpen, and push open the doors. I walk to my seat, in between Hotch and Prentice. I lock eyes with Hotch, giving him an apologetic look, he nods slightly and speaks, "Continue, Garcia."
"Okay, 24 year old Kate Watson and Emma Miller were found dead in their homes, Kate in her bathtub and Emma in her bedroom. They have almost no connection except they go to the same college, they're the same age, and they are both babysitters. Kate just got home from a babysitting job, and Emma was getting ready to leave for her next babysitting job."
The team looked at the crime photos on their tablets, except Spencer since he severely disliked using technology- he much preferred traditional reports.
I love that about him. No matter how fast the world progresses Spencer just loves his books- paper reports, newspapers, and anything to do with paper reading. I remember him saying he especially loves the smell of old books- which I completely agree with.
"Maybe the unsub lacked a parental figure in childhood and dislikes those who willingly take those positions?" JJ says, with her tablet pen against her lips. "I don't think so- maybe a specific figure like mother or sister? The victims look similar and they both babysit middle to high class children." Rossi says while looking around the room for the others opinions.
"Maybe the unsub was jealous of the children for being "wanted" because of the unsubs childhood trauma?" Spencer states while locking eyes with Rossi then looking at his paper. Hotch stands up with his hands on the round table, "wheels up in 20 everyone." Everyone stood up, gathered their things and started to leave the room.
I stand slowly, because of the soreness of my thighs, careful not to open the wounds again. Spencer stayed behind with me, once everyone left he asked, "hey y/n, do you want to ride in the SUV with me? I could use some company." He smiled lightly. "Oh- uhm, of course" I respond, a light pink flushed on my face from the thought of alone time with him.
On the car ride there, I instinctively rest my hands and grab my thighs lightly, putting little pressure as a sense of comfort of some sort. Of course, Spencer noticed this action, as he glanced to my slightly shaking hands. "Are you okay?" He glances over my direction before looking back at the road. "Yeah of course, why wouldn't I be?" I give and awkward laugh and look at his beautiful side profile. He glanced again and as we lock eyes, I feel blood rush to my face as I quickly look away.
"Welp, l-looks like we're here-" I rush out of the car and give a slight jog to the jet entrance. We were the first ones there, of course.
Spencer walks in a little after I did, and sat down on the couch. He pulled out his book, and started to read with his hand speeding over the words to help him keep track of the line he was on. I didn't catch myself staring at his long fingers, which where actually extremely pretty. I mean, who has pretty fingers? Is that even a thing? I garuntee nobody else has ever had thoughts of "pretty fingers-" omg if he could read my thoughts I'd be SO dead right now..
Right as I think that, he glances up to his left, directly at me. I didn't notice this because I was staring so intently at his hands. When I notice their not moving anymore, I glance at his chocolate hazel brown eyes-
OMG HE NOTICED ME STARING
WHAT THE HELL
OH MY GOD
IM GONNA KILL MYSELF
I AM MORTIFIED WHAT AM I GONNA DO-
My thoughts are interrupted by Rossi, JJ, and the rest of the team join us in the plane. I could feel my face heating up from the fact he caught me staring, so I stood up and walked to the bathroom. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
I brought my bag with me- so I grab my bag and pull out something sharp. Anything at this point.
I find one of my box cutters shoved In a small pocket of the leather bag. I pull it out and sit on the toilet. I pull my pants to my upper knee and push the blade out.
I know I shouldn't do this. This is a stupid reason to. I mean- I must be faking this shit for attention, right? I mean like it's not like I have a fucking traumatic past or anything, I have a decent family, a great job, and no diagnosed mental health issues. But you know what. I don't fucking care. I want to feel anything than the embarrassment right now, even if it means cutting up my thighs.
I put the cold blade against my upper thigh, and press lightly. I drag it across my skin, watching the blood trickle out slightly delayed from the knife. I do it a few times on my left then I move to my right. Fuck this hurts but once you cut enough, it becomes slightly cold, and a bit numb. Enough so you can still feel the sting but not as bad as the immediate pain. I sigh, grabbing some tissues and pressing against my bleeding thighs. I can feel the jet taking off.
Knock knock
"You okay? You looked a bit red, are you sick?" I could tell that sweet intoxicating voice anywhere. Spencer. "O-oh uh yeah" I pause "I'm fine.." I don't think he bought it. But he doesn't have enough suspicion on anything to push by further. I hear him walk away.
Once I stop the bleeding, I pull my pants up and head out.
Rossi gives me a slight look of concern, "you okay? You're a bit pale, if you're sick you can take a break." I force a smile at his concern. "Yeah I'm good, promise. Just a little nauseous for some reason- maybe something I ate" I grab my neck and laugh nervously.
Garcia starts talking about the case as I sit down, trying to ignore the immense fatigue. Whether the fatigue was from blood loss, not eating or sleeping, or stress, i don't know. Maybe all three. But what I do know is that I cannot focus. I keep spacing out, and there is a ringing in my ear. As I sit on the couch next the Spence, I keep accidentally nodding off. I stand to grab a cup of coffee, but once im on my own two legs they give out and everything goes black. I don't even remember hitting the floor but when I wake up everyone is running to me, which wasn't a good idea seeing as how the jet is extremely small. I sit up as Spencer is next to me, kneeling down, helping me stand up.
The ringing in my ears were so loud I couldn't concentrate, that's the only thing I could hear. I grabbed my head as Spencer held onto my right arm helping keep me up. As I look around, I see everyone's worried looks. I tried to comprehend what happened but I couldn't remember. Spencer sat me down on the couch, sitting hip to hip with me.
Usually, I'd have been stoked about the small gesture but right now, I was completely out of it. It's like the movies when a grenade goes off. Once the ringing starts to go lower, I can actually hear everyone's concerned voices asking me the same questions in different ways. All being "are you okay" or "what happened"
Once the ringing completely dispatches, I speak, "s-sorry, I..." I pause, trying to regain control over my body. "I guess the food really messed with me..." I give a pathetic giggle. Nobody believed me. "L/N. You're off the case until I know you're not going to faint again. Stay in the hotel or in the police department, but you do not go into the feild until I authorize it." Hotch gives me a stern but worried look. I understand his reasoning, so I repsond. "Okay, I think I could use the rest anyways.." I try to give a small smile, as the team goes back to sitting down again- I guess they had finished the discussion when I was spacing out.
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2129 words
HEY!! I really hope you guys like it- I'm gonna do the second part to this right now, but I hope you liked it :))
I know little to nobody will read this, so if you do, thank you! Please take care of yourselves, and always love SPENCER REID <33333