You didn't want to go into work. You were sat in your car in the parking lot staring blindly at the car in front you. You couldn't even recall the car journey from the hospital to the BAU headquarters where you worked.
Hotch would understand if you called in sick especially once he found out why, but that would just delay the inevitable conversation with everyone. And the sooner you got this over with, the better.
You'd made your decision as soon as you'd received the news. The alternate didn't bear thinking about.
Two months ago your aunt had called you. She was your moms sister. She'd been diagnosed with stage four breast cancer. Terminal.
Your mom had passed away from the same type of cancer five years ago when you were 23. Your Aunts oncologist had strongly recommended that any female relatives make appointments.
So you did, managing to get an appointment three weeks ago and dragging yourself down to the hospital and having your boobs wedged into the mammogram machine. Three days later, a phone call asking you two return. They wanted to do a biopsy; they'd found something.
You'd spoke with Hotch to arrange the vacation time, not even telling your boyfriend Spencer Reid. You didn't want to worry him. Instead you'd agreed that you'd just call in sick the day of the biopsy as it would be an outpatient procedure and you'd be home later the same day.
The results had come back a week later, the tumour they'd spotted was benign. Normally this would be a cause for some concern but not massive amounts. In normal cases, it would be monitored to see if it did grow and could be extracted if it caused any issues.
What they told you next though was what had taken you back there again today. They'd also tested you for a defective BRCA1 gene. And the results had come back positive. They'd wanted to do more tests. More time off work.
Today's appointment was to tell you the outcome. And it wasn't good. Given your Mom and Aunts history, the small tumour that had already developed and the fact that you'd tested positive for the defective gene, they estimated you had an eighty percent chance of developing Breast Cancer.
Eighty percent.
The most preventative course of action was a double mastectomy. And although the thought terrified you, developing cancer scared you even more. Yes, there was a twenty percent chance that you'd be fine, but you didn't like those odds.
They'd checked their calenders and given you an op date of two weeks time. Now you just had to tell your little work family.
Climbing out of your car and locking it behind you, you made your way into the building and into the elevator.
When you exited you could see the team already huddled around Spencers desk already deep in conversation about something. JJ looked over at you, smiling when she saw you. When the smile you gave back didn't quite reach your eyes she noticed, her brow furrowing into concern.
"Everything okay?"She asked when you'd made your away across to the team.
"No and yes. Can we go to the meeting room? I, erm......I need to tell you something."
They all looked over at you then, confusion and concern showing across them all. You loved your little family at the BAU, which is why you knew you couldn't keep this from them. As they rose from their seats making their ways into the room, you grabbed Spencer arm holding him back.
"Spencer, I should have really told you what I'm about to tell them, separately. But I can't bear to have this same conversation over and over again. So I'm sorry."
He nodded at you, his deep brown eyes full of worry. You took his hand and led him into the office with you with, not letting it go when you got inside.
The rest of the team stared at you waiting patiently for you to begin.
"Guys, please don't interrupt me. I'll answer anything I can at the end but I need to get this out." They nodded at you, Spencer squeezing your hand lightly.
Taking a deep breath, you began. "I'm having surgery. To remove my breasts."
You heard a sharp intake of breath from somewhere in the room, and felt Spencers hand twitch. He moved slightly so he was closer to you.
"You all know my Mom died of breast cancer. Well two months ago I found out my Aunt, her sister has it. I made an appointment for some tests and it turns out I have the faulty gene too. And I have a lump. I didn't even notice it until the mammogram but it's definitely there."
Glancing around the room you could see your teammates struggling with their emotions. A tear ran down Penelopes cheek and JJ looked close to spilling over too. You daren't turn to look at Reid.
"I don't have cancer guys. That's the good thing. But the tests have confirmed that what I do have is an eighty percent chance of developing breast cancer. And the best way to lower that is to have them removed. So that's what I'm doing."
You breathed out, relieved that you'd said everything you needed to without crying.
"Are you.... Are you going to be okay?" Garcia spoke in a tiny voice.
"I should be. I still have the same odds as developing another form of cancer as the rest of us, but this will remove that massively increased odd of breast cancer. I mean eighty percent.....I'm not gonna bet against that. That'd be like trying to beat Spencer here at chess right?" You smiled trying to lighten the mood.
"Anything you need Y/N and we'll accommodate you. Take as much time off as it takes. We're all here for you." Your supervisor Aaron Hotchner spoke, his voice calm and kind.
"I already have the date sir, can we talk in your office shortly?"
"Of course. Team, I think we should give Agent Y/N a moment or two alone." He glanced at you and Spencer and you nodded.
Spencer still hadn't spoken.
The rest of team filed out, patting you on the shoulder and hugging you as they went, all whispering kind words and assurances that anything you needed, they'd do. Hotch was the last one out, closing the door quietly behind him.
You turned to Reid, your partner of ten months now.
"Spence. I erm.....I understand if you want to break up with me now. I get that it's a lot to go through, and I know I'll look different afterwards. I won't judge you. "
This is one of the things you'd been scared off. With your breasts gone, you wondered if you'd feel less of a woman. And what man wanted to be around someone with scars where their boobs should be. Sure you could have reconstructive surgery, but not for a while.
"Why would you even think that Y/N?" His voice cracked as he spoke. "What you look like under your clothes is the least important thing to me. You're the most beautiful woman in the world to me and that will never, ever change. Yes, I love your breasts, I'm not gonna lie. But they don't make you who you are. They're a minor insignificant detail."
He took a breath before continuing. " I just can't understand why you didn't tell me. I'd have gone with you to your appointments. Two months you've known about your Aunt. Two months you've had of going through this alone. You shouldn't have had to do that." His eyes were glazed, and you were scared he was going to start crying. If that happened, there was no way you could hold your own back.
"I didn't want to worry anyone until I knew if there was something to worry about. And there isn't. It's just minor surgery. I'm okay Spencer, I swear." You smiled at him, moving closer and wrapping an arm around his waist.
He pulled you close, his arms circling you tightly as his head rested on your shoulder.
"I'm coming with you to the rest of your appointments Y /N. I'll be there every step of the way through this. I love you. Unconditionally. Don't ever think anything would change that."
"Thank you. I love you too."
The tears that did escape from you then, weren't tears of sadness for the surgery and no doubt the pain you'd go through during recovery. They were tears of happiness, knowing that the one person you loved most in the world would be by your side through out it.