Spencer sits across from the girl they rescued earlier today. When they caught their UnSub, one Danny Edwards, the team had been shocked to find his fifteen year old step-daughter, Ryan, locked in a bedroom upstairs. She had fallen victim to his heinous acts as well.
Ryan sits on the hospital bed, her knees tucked up under her chin. Spencer sits in the chair next to the bed. The girl's curly red hair is dirty and tangled, and it hangs limp around her face. She stares at Spencer with blank, blue eyes that are framed by dark lashes. A light dusting of freckles lays across her nose. She has refused to let the doctors touch her, and she has refused to speak to anyone but Spencer, although she has yet to say a word.
"You have pretty eyes," she says suddenly, and Spencer smiles.
"Thank you. Yours are quite nice as well." Ryan's lips turn up in a minute smile.
"May I ask how you got those?" Spencer questions, gesturing towards Ryan's right arm. She tenses. Both of her arms are covered in scars, but her right arm has the most damage. It covers the top of her forearm as well as her shoulder. He is 99% sure that the scars and open wounds are self inflicted, but he wouldn't put it past Edwards to put his step-daughter through that, either.
Ryan looks away from Spencer and tightens her hold on her legs. "I did it myself." Spencer isn't going to ask why—he already knows the answer to that question. She had wanted control. Control of something, control of anything because her step-father had control over everything else in her life. There are several large lacerations on her arm that most likely should have had stitches, and Spencer wishes that she would let the doctors take a look.
"I understand that you wouldn't let the doctors attend to you." Ryan nods. "How come?"
"They would want to touch me," she whispers as she looks back at Spencer. He's expecting to see tears, but her eyes are emotionless, dead. His heart breaks slightly, and not for the first time he thinks that Morgan would probably be better suited for this conversation. "They would poke and prod and take pictures," she continues. "They would judge."
"Why do you think that they would judge you?" Spencer asks.
"My arms," she answers simply. "Everyone judges." He hates that she says it like it's a fact of life.
"I don't judge you for it," Reid says sincerely, and Ryan watches him for a minute, trying to gauge whether he's lying or not.
"Why?" she finally asks.
Spencer sighs. "Because I know what it's like to desperately want control."
She smiles.