Spencer
I reluctantly went on cases for the next month. Work wouldn't stop calling. All of our investigations went successfully, but my heart just wasn't in it. I wanted to be home. I wanted to be close to my girlfriend. We had been together now for 10 months. Almost a whole year.
Bianca was always at a rehearsal or a performance. She did her oxygen therapy in between. After collapsing at Eliza's, the doctors were closely monitoring her heart and urging her to take it easy. That was easier said than done.
We received time off, after a significantly challenging case in Texas, and I was happy to go home to Bianca. I craved her close to me. I went to her apartment after picking some things up at my place. I found her on the couch watching Juilliard's Spring Gala on her laptop.
"Hey Spence," she called, getting up to kiss me. "How was the case?"
"It went fine. How are things here?"
"They are how the are," Bianca plainly responded.
"Are you okay, Bianca?"
"I'm fine."
"Okay."
She turned her attention back to her computer, watching the video intently.
"Yeah," I started. "So it was pretty easy for us to catch the UnSub. She wrote these letters and I was able to decipher them."
"Oh."
"You're upset."
"You're profiling me now," she exclaimed, getting up and heading to her bedroom. I followed her.
"It's just-"
Bianca held her hand to my face. "You promised, that you wouldn't profile me."
"I'm trying not to."
She pulled out a shoebox from her closet. It held a pair of ballet shoes in them.
"Are those for dance?" I asked.
"Pointe," Bianca clarified.
"Ah," I responded.
Bianca removed the shoes from the box. They appeared to be in novel condition;Not yet touched. She gazed at the shoes intently, before turning back to me. "I bought these before- well you know, before what happened."
"For Juilliard?"
"I didn't know that I had gotten in yet. It was about a month before I got the acceptance letter. Before I went to that stupid bar with Eliza to celebrate."
"I'm sorry," I replied. My heart broke. I didn't know what to say.
Bianca turned the shoes around in her hands before throwing them into her trash bin with minor aggression.
"Wait," I exclaimed. "Don't you think that-"
"What," Bianca interrupted, "That I'll use these. When? How? My health is in shambles. It's time to give up."
"Science is constantly evolving, Bianca. You may be able to go back to school, or maybe get a better job."
"That's what I thought too. But the pulmonologist I went to, yesterday thinks otherwise."
"Why did you make an appointment without me? If you had told me, I would have taken time off to go with you."
Bianca turned away from me, and started walking towards her bathroom. I ran after her and grabbed her hand. "Wait. That was the wrong thing to say, B. I'm sorry. What did the pulmonologist say?"
"That I'm dying."
I froze and my heart completely shattered. I felt like I was going to be sick. I let go of her hand. "No."
"He gave me a year."
"He's wrong."
"Is he? I haven't been doing to well."
"We'll get another one. We'll get you on new medication."
"Spencer-"
"No, Bianca," I began to cry. "You can't just give up. I can't handle that."
"So you want to leave."
"No. I love you."
She moved over to me and dragged me back to her bedroom, sitting me on her bed, and pulling me close to her. I sobbed into her shirt, and she ran her hand through my hair.
"I didn't mean to hurt you. I'll try whatever experimental treatments you want, Spencer. I just need to be realistic about everything. I'm never going back to school. My body is too weak."
"You don't know that," I sobbed.
At that moment, our primal instincts took over. We showered together and made love on her bed. Perhaps it wasn't perfect timing, but it was what we needed in that moment of grief and confusion. Morgan tried to get me to. One out with them, I was scared of something happening to her. We were laying on her couch. I had Doctor Who playing on the television. I tried to get her to watch something she wanted, but she made me pick.
While the show was playing, I was on my laptop skimming journal articles on pulmonary complications. There were so many causes, and so many treatments. There had to be a solution, and I was going to find it.
My skimming was interrupted by Bianca beginning a coughing fit. She was trying to stop it, so that I wouldn't worry. I took her hand. The wheezing turned into gasping. She fainted in my arms, while I was trying to hand her the inhaler. I laid her across the couch, kneeling down next to her. Her breath was so ragged. I quickly got her oxygen therapy, fearful of what might happen if she didn't receive that.
Twenty minutes had passed. She was breathing better, but not fully conscious. Blood was slowly falling out of her right nostril. I sat down on the floor, in defeat, tears stinging my eyes.
An hour passed, and I was blankly watching Dr. Who. Bianca was asleep, with dried blood coating her nose and lips. The only sound in the room was the tv, so I jumped when Bianca's phone rang. I grabbed it in anger. Who in their right mind was calling her right now? When I looked down, I saw a blocked number. I knew it had to be Bruce.
I held the phone up to my ear, glancing in Bianca's direction, as I picked up the call. "What do you want?" I asked, turning away from Bianca as I posed the question.
"Spencer? Why are you answering this call?" Bruce mocked.
"Stay away from her," I spat.
"She wants to come back with me."
"She doesn't."
"That night, Spencer. In the bar, we hooked up."
"That means nothing."
"It means everything. Bianca loves me."
"You took everything from her. Leave her alone, Bruce."
"I'll get her back soon. Her place is with me. I watched her for years at The Sax."
"If you come near her, I'll kill you," I threatened, quickly hanging up the phone, as I did so.
"Spencer," Bianca whispered. I turned back to her, rushing to the couch.
"Hey," I responded, taking a tissue, trying to remove the blood from her nose and mouth.
"Did I fall asleep?"
"Yeah. How are you feeling."
"I'm tired."
"I know, B."
"Why do you have my phone?"
"You had a call and I answered it."
"Why.? Who was it?"
I fell silent.
"Oh," Bianca responded, reading my mind. "What did he say?"
"Don't worry about that now. I'm going to call Hotch. We're going to keep you safe."
"Won't Hotch just be upset that you answered the phone?"
I looked at her, confusingly.
Bianca laughed, "I'm joking."
"Oh," I exclaimed laughing in response.
Bianca removed her mask, shutting off her oxygen therapy. "So what do we do now?"
"I'm going to call Hotch, in a few hours. See what he suggests."
"Sounds good," Bianca answered.
The rest of the night was restless for me. I couldn't close my eyes for longer than two minutes. My monsters clouded my subconscious. Fears about losing Bianca swam in the back of my eyes. I was terrified.
Once it reached a reasonable hour, I called Hotch. While I was on the phone with him, I was scrolling through Bianca's and saw that Bruce has called her five more times in the early morning. Hotch advised both of us to come to the BAU. I relayed this plan to Bianca, and she was less than thrilled.
"I need to go to work," she pressed her main argument. "I can't call out for no reason,
"I'll figure out a way for you to go," I promised, though a resurfacing stalker and possibly terminal illness appeared like legitimate reasons to miss her show.
"Will your team let me?"
"Let's just work at one thing at a time," I suggested. Bianca looked at me skeptically, but obliged. She packed her things for the Sax, and we were off.
"If you would be okay with it, after we're clear of Bruce, I would like to attend an appointment to this Pulmonologist with you," I blurted.
Bianca glanced at me, "Did you read journal articles last night."
"I did."
"How many?"
"Seven-Hundred and Thirteen."
"What?"
"Well I skimmed the last five."
Bianca giggled.
"There are some doctors, even here in town, that are forming treatments. It's really groundbreaking stuff." I started listing off the different treatments I had read about, but she wasn't paying much attention. "The point is, Bianca," I summarized, "that asshole you saw had no right giving you a death sentence."
She smiled at me, but didn't comment on anything I had said. We pulled into the BAU parking lot. Once we were inside, the two of us were swarmed by the team. Bianca locked her eyes to mine in fear.
"Hey, guys give us a second. We've had a long night."
"My man," Morgan commented. He was always trying to lighten up the mood with us.
"Not like that," I stated.
"Well, a little like that," Bianca quietly defended.
Morgan, busted out laughing.
"Alright," Hotch cut in, "Head upstairs to García with Bianca's phone, so she can start analyzing the phone log. Do you know how many times, Bruce attempted to make contact, last night?"
"Six," I said. Bianca started trembling.
"I didn't know that," she said. "I don't feel too well."
"Hey, lets go see, Garcia," I quickly pulled her upstairs.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"What?"
"That Bruce called again. That he called six times."
"I couldn't. I'm sorry."
"Maybe I can meet him somewhere. You guys can give me a wire? You can-"
"Bianca, are you out of your mind?"
She pulled away from me.
"I'm sorry. He's too dangerous for that. Let us figure out something else."
"Okay," she said, but then she started coughing again. "No," she screamed spewing blood on the ground. Field agents started starting at us, but she quickly waved them off, breaking free from my grasp, and running to the bathroom.
"Bianca," I screamed, as I saw her eyes roll back into her head. I caught her in time. I picked her up, and ran up to Garcia's office for privacy. We had to do something about this. I could not lose her like I did Maeve.