Disclaimer: Y'all, it is after 1:30 in the morning right now, so why don't we just cut the crap? You know it doesn't belong to me. I know it doesn't belong to me. Lorraine and her animal buddies belong to me, and you know what? You can use them if and ONLY if you ask me nicely.
Ch. 1 – The First Step
Spencer Reid trooped up out of the Metro stop nearest his girlfriend's apartment, the normal crowd of people jostling along with him. For once in a ridiculously long while, he had a Friday night that would not be occupied with the worst humanity had to offer. Even rarer, but happening nonetheless: his free weekend evenings would not be occupied with comic books, chess, or theoretical physics. If he weren't reasonably sure it would get him put up in a nice safe room, he might dance and whistle! The February afternoon gleamed in pale winter sun, crisp with a touch of wind. He and Lorraine had been together nearly seven months and it still sort of blew his mind that he had a girlfriend. Perhaps it mostly had to do with his crazy schedule but he appreciated more than most a spontaneous free Friday.
The genius strode up the way and waved happily to the security gentleman, who nodded in return and watched him go on by. Spencer had even braced for impact from Hawkeye – seven months in had not changed the dog's reaction to anyone being at the door. A short walk had the tall, thin man standing outside his girlfriend's door. Under one arm, he had his satchel tucked up close. His idea of a good random stay-in date night included his old N-64 (the clear green one) and Pokémon Stadium. Of course, he brought Pokémon Snap as a decent back-up. He and Lorraine had bonded probably more nights than a grown man should admit over first-gen Pokémon material. She still had her old Game Boy Color and had actually managed to beat him a few times over the com-link cable! Damn the weakness of Charizard against electric-types!
He raised a confident hand and knocked instead of pushing the doorbell. It didn't really off-set the explosion of dog noise from the other side of the door that resulted immediately. Barking and clattering, the gigantic Landseer charged down the front hallway. From the sound of it, the dog-monster collided with the solid slab of wood at top speed. A moment after, though, Spencer tilted his head at the frosted glass in the center of the door and frowned in concern. Normally, Lorraine ran hot on the dog's heels, trying to shove him out of the way so she could address whoever was on her front step. He gave it a second and knocked again. More barking answered him.
"Lorraine?" he called through the door when he heard a muffled thump like a person hitting a wall rather heavily. "Is everything all right?"
This time, a human voice did answer him – it sounded like a very upset Doctor Lorraine Quinn. Had he come at a bad time? Spencer took a large step back as the door opened. Hawkeye had become locked in a wrestling match with a moving pile of yellow blanket and long red hair. Remembering what Lorraine said about letting the door stand open, Reid stepped in, shut the door, and waited. The blanket-pile ousted the giant dog from the front hallway by leaning on him. When it stood up and revealed itself to be, in fact, Spencer's girlfriend, he nearly dropped his satchel.
She looked awful, but he knew damn well better than to tell her that. Her normally olive-skinned face had gone almost as pale as his, and his color worried JJ at least weekly! Hawkeye returned and his human mama did not protest, leaning on the dog's withers. Spencer had gone from mildly concerned to more than worried in the blink of an eye – his girlfriend had to lean on her dog for support. That could not be good. As if approaching a frightened animal, the big bad BAU profiler (he mentally snorted at his own stupid description) inched closer to his girlfriend.
Up close, her condition looked worse. She had obviously put on makeup something like two days ago, from the deterioration of the cosmetics on her face. Her lips had lost almost all their color, dry and pale except for the remnants of chewed-off lipstick. Black and purple liner and shadow caked in haphazard streaks around her eyes, which looked hollow and sunken. That red hair he loved so much had been freed from its ever-present braid to hang in tangled snarls to her hips. Trembling hands held a ratty yellow Polarfleece blanket tightly around her shoulders – he knew better than to touch that. It was then Spencer noticed the sweltering heat inside the apartment.
"Lorraine… sweetheart," He began – he still thought he sounded awkward using terms of endearment, but it made his girlfriend smile. "What's going on? Is everything all right?"
At first, only a gurgling little croak came out of her mouth, causing Spencer to step back reflexively in case she threw up.
"Been sick," she told him after she regrouped, gripping Hawkeye's back-fluff to keep herself steady. Good therapy dog that he was, the Landseer stood obligingly. "Fucking sucks…"
Lorraine swore a lot when… Well, okay, Lorraine just swore a lot. If she knew there were children about, she tried to put a lid on it, but other than that, the speech therapist had no mouth filter. For whatever reason Spencer would not allow him to psychologically identify, he found it unavoidably endearing. However, right now, he had to get out of his own head and take care of his girlfriend, whose knees shook disturbingly. She had been sick for heaven knows how long now and…
"Have you not seen a doctor?" he blurted out, reaching out a hand to Lorraine's shoulder – she shivered all over, despite the heat. That contact shifted so he could wrap that arm around her upper back. Hawkeye shuffled off to the side as his mama leaned on Spencer instead. When he laid a hand on her forehead, he observed "You have a fever."
"No," she grunted at him, swaying on her feet.
He set his satchel down on the side table in the front hallway and made an executive decision: like it or not, Lorraine didn't need to be standing up anymore. She gave him a half-hearted shove in protest as, in a surprisingly bold move, he thought, he lifted her into his arms. A few more grumbles, a baleful glare, and she settled against him. Every time Spencer found himself lucky enough to hold her, it never failed to surprise him, her tiny little frame. Still not comfortable going into her bedroom without being asked, he made for the couch. A victim or unsub's home was one thing, but a girlfriend was a very different matter. He settled Lorraine carefully on the couch and pulled the blanket down off the back to drape over her bare knees. The blanket had moved during the shift, revealing what passed for pajamas with her – a Hello Kitty tank top she'd had since she was thirteen and purple cotton shorts. The redhead curled up miserably against the cushions.
Spencer went and retrieved his satchel, not trusting enough to leave it for long out of his sight with Everett in the house. The fur-ball had proven nowhere to be seen thus far, but held a record for "single animal to have urinated on the most of Spencer Reid's possessions." Setting that on the floor near an end table, the profiler returned and seated himself on the couch with Lorraine. She tried her best to stay bundled up in her blanket, but attempted to scoot over beside him. When her balance gave out and she fell over sideways, it didn't take a genius to pull her in close to his side. Taking it a little further, Lorraine draped herself over Spencer's lap, a little bundle of Polarfleece and body heat. A few wisps of hair stuck to her forehead with a light film of sweat.
"How long has this been going on?" the profiler pushed a little bit, sensing that Lorraine had discovered a skinny new pillow and wouldn't move for a while.
At first, he only heard a muffled string of word-like sounds that he took to be more cursing.
"I'm fine," Lorraine told him when he pulled down the blanket she yanked over her head. "Used to get this in high school…"
Somehow, it only worried Spencer more that this had happened before! Surely, she knew how to see about it now, right? One hand released the edge of her blanket and wrapped itself up in the front of his shirt. She felt frighteningly hot against him. Careful hands draped that curtain of snarled red hair back off her neck and face. With her eyes closed, Lorraine leaned into her boyfriend's touch, grateful for his preternaturally soft, cool hands. No matter what she tried to tell him, she felt like rot – her insides had gone on the warpath. Nothing if not tenacious when he had to be, Spencer continued to nudge at his girlfriend. He had trained in this kind of thing, so there was no reason he shouldn't be able to just find out how long she had been like this!
"Come on, I just want to help you," he encouraged, trying to untangle the ends of her hair with his fingers. She grabbed the length away from him and held it to her chest like a beloved plush animal, glaring up at him with her mouth shut. Spencer couldn't give up, not with her like this. "Lorraine, you have to trust me – I'm a doctor."
At first, she tried to continue glaring at him, her big green eyes flashing at him as he had become quite used to, but it turned out she couldn't help a snort of laughter.
"Spencer, I'm a doctor too," she reminded him, though she failed at keeping the dripping sarcasm in her voice. Her lips twitched in a smile almost despite her. "And I say I'm fine!"
Smiling wryly, the genius shifted his girlfriend up so he could kiss her forehead, the skin there still shockingly hot.
"You're not that kind of doctor," he reminded her, trying to keep a clamp on the urge to smile like a total nut job as she nestled her head on his shoulder. "Nice try, though."
Lorraine swallowed hard as her internal organs – nearly all of them – lurched unpleasantly and she fought back a serious faux pas.
"You're not either," she pointed out, hiding her face against his throat. Her muffled voice ordered, "Now lemme sleep…"
Spencer rolled his eyes, but did not remove his girlfriend from her new position – it was plenty comfortable for both of them. Maybe letting her take a quick nap before he started seriously harping on her to see a doctor wouldn't hurt. Toe-claws clicked on the floor and signaled Hawkeye's approach before the giant dog joined his human mama and her special friend on the couch. For once, the BAU's star prodigy didn't mind the addition. He had read a great deal about animal empathy and the use of therapy animals with victims of violent crime since dating Lorraine.
"Hey, big fella," the profiler addressed the dog, reaching carefully over his sleepy girlfriend to ruffle the fluffy ears. He withdrew a drool-coated hand after a swipe from the big pink tongue, wiping the slime on his pants. "Think you can help me talk your mama into seeing a doctor?"
Squirming, Lorraine lifted her head just enough to bring her lips level with her boyfriend's ear.
"Trying to use my own dog against me, huh?" she rasped at him with a touch of laughter in her voice – her illness hadn't quite killed her mood. "You learn that in the FBI? Messed up, dude…"
The redhead pulled away from Spencer's warm neck and turned to face her big fuzzy baby, smiling and laughing a bit more as the dog licked her face. Helpfully, her boyfriend's hands held her hair away from her cheeks as the sloppy wet tongue coated her until Hawkeye felt satisfied. Lorraine felt fine for a couple seconds, using both hands to swipe dog spit from her eyes. However, as soon as she got a look at her own hands, they started to tremble. As unpleasant heat settled over her like someone had broken a raw egg on her head, she started struggling to get up. Spencer tried to hold her still, but she elbowed him in the ribs, grunted a "sorry!" as she half-fell off the couch, and ran from the room. The profiler's ears picked up the same sound as when he first turned up, confirming its source. His girlfriend had her equilibrium screwed up so badly that she bounced off random things in the hall.
Spencer wrinkled his nose when he heard the bathroom door slam, swearing in surprise as Hawkeye let him have a big slimy kiss. He shoved the dog, but it proved ineffectual – the Landseer probably outweighed him, now that he thought about it. Granted, it probably would turn out better if he stayed right where he sat. Lorraine had proved again and again that if she wanted help, regardless of whether she needed it, she would ask for it. In a few moments, after her commode flushed several times and he deliberately closed his ears to the aftermath, the bathroom door opened again. The sound of a body clattering down the hall reprised itself. In seconds, his girlfriend reappeared, Lorraine's face devoid of all natural color and tears of pain and embarrassment streaming down her face.
"Spencer…" she sniffled, her arms wrapped tightly around her thin body. "I'm really sick."
Hawkeye shifted his bulk down off the couch, providing the only reason Reid could get up at all. He crossed the room in three long strides and pulled the shaking redhead close, her head tucking in just the right place against his chest. His fingers stroked as best they could through her tangled hair, for a moment just holding the red waves up off her neck again. Inclining his head, he exhaled a gentle, cooling breath against her sweaty skin. For a long while, they simply stood there while Lorraine got her bearings, and then Spencer pulled back just to tilt her face up to him.
"Well, the first step is admitting there's a problem," he tried to joke. "Now come on, you need to see a doctor."
Lorraine shook her head, pulling away from her boyfriend and tottering back to the couch. He didn't even have the heart to argue as she just fell to the cushions on her side. Clutching hands pulled the yellow fleece blanket up to her shoulders. Hawkeye planted himself in front of the couch on the rug, looking up at his mama with big sad eyes. Defeated for the moment, Spencer joined the redhead and fell back to regroup. Neither of them needed for her to get upset at the moment.
"Lorraine, you worry me," he told her softly, stroking her cheek. "Why don't you get some sleep?"
She had already curled into the blanket.