Disclaimer: see my profile
A/n this one shot is set between "God Complex and "The Wheels on the Bus.
She switched on the small, black, portable radio she kept on her bedside table and dialed through the channels until she found a station that played good classical music. She couldn't sleep. It was Sunday night and Spencer hadn't called.
Why didn't the phone ring?
She pulled down the bed covers and slipped inside. She shivered despite the heat pushing in from the register. The cold wasn't an external chill. This cold was the kind that came from the depths of a lonely heart.
A tear tracked its way down her face as she stared at the green digital numbers on her radio's clock. She'd really screwed up. If only she'd thought before giving voice to - oh, she couldn't think of it.
Her face burned and she swiped at her eyes. She should have had more control. The last six months were the happiest of her life because she had someone to talk that was kind, and sweet and gentle. She had a friend, someone that was patient with all the restrictions she put on that friendship, even when tested to the limits of endurance.
She turned to her back and stared up at a ceiling she couldn't see over her head.
I should've stayed quiet.
She swiped at her eyes again. The words had popped out without coherent thought. He was so sweet and patient. All he wanted from her was more than one call per week.
Maybe that's why you blurted out that you love him.
No, she refused to believe that she was making some kind of hail-Mary plea.
It's true… You heard the irritation in his voice, even if he tried to hide it. You wanted him to forget.
She flipped over on her stomach and buried her face in the pillow. Tears soaked the white pillowcase, but she ceased to feel it as she fell into sleep.
CMCMCMCM
The ringing of the phone bored through her dream of eyes she'd never seen. She fumbled for her cell phone, and almost knocked it off the nightstand.
"Spencer," she cried without conscious thought.
The silence on the other end would have been absolute except for harsh breathing that she recognized.
"What?"
She flinched at the soft question in her ear. The hair stood up on the back of her neck and she almost dropped the phone. Her hands began to sweat and her heart began to race.
"Who is Spencer?"
She swallowed hard. "Um, he's a patient. I was sleeping. I mean, I fell asleep looking at a file and I guess I must've been dreaming."
"You were dreaming."
He was so calm, that she began to shake. Help me, Spencer.
"I d-don't know, I g-guess s-so."
Her voice shook so hard, she could hardly speak. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?
"I'm glad because I wouldn't want to think that someone else is in your life, my sweet."
"Of c-course not, I'm s-sorry."
"I know you are. You remember very well what happens when you don't do as you're told."
Tears began rolling down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away.
"Now, go back to sleep and dream of me," he whispered.
"I p-promise."
He clicked off and she let her phone fall into her lap. She put her face into her hands and began to sob.
CMCMCMCM
He left his cell phone on his worktable and picked up his latest pile of photographs. He couldn't help but smile with delight when he reached the middle of the stack and found his most recent close-up of Dr. Spencer Reid. It amused him that she thought she was fooling him. He'd been angry when he discovered that she was talking to Dr. Reid on a weekly basis, but then he realized that he could use that to his advantage. Still, he would have to punish her for her defiance when his plans were complete.
He held the close-up and studied Dr. Reid. She had developed feelings for him and he couldn't understand why. He had full dossiers on all of this BAU team, but Dr. Reid remained a mystery to him. He was a genius that had killed more than once in the line of duty. He was also a drug addict with a schizophrenic mother in an institution. He had no experience with a real relationship, and yet the good doctor had managed to make his lovely lady defiant to his rules and his will.
He put the photograph on the table and slammed a fist down over Dr. Reid's face. The pain of the blow reminded him that he couldn't lose control. If he lost control, then he'd lose the war. Every other foe, which battled with this BAU team, lost because they made mistakes. He wouldn't make the same mistakes they did and in the end, he'd beat SAC Aaron Hotchner and his merry band of profilers at their own game.
CMCMCMCMCMCM
He waited in the yellow glow of the street light that fell over the phone booth like a stage spotlight. He looked around, and tried not to feel like someone was watching him. The phone didn't ring for ten minutes and he almost left. She'd never taken this long to call him back. He looked at his watch and realized that it was very late. Maybe she was sleeping.
The phone finally rang and he jumped as though goosed in the backside. "Hello."
"Spencer?"
"What's wrong?"
"I can't talk to you anymore."
Ice water took place of the blood in his veins. He gasped in a huge lungful of cold air and clung to the phone so hard his hand ached.
"No."
"Spencer, I made a terrible mistake."
"Tell me what happened?"
"Spencer, please, I don't want to do this, but I think he might know."
The ice water in his veins collected in his heart and his chest hurt. He tried to slow his breathing, but none thing he did helped.
"Tell me where you are. I'll come get you now. I'll take you somewhere safe. I have this cabin and -"
"You can't," she interrupted. "I don't know if he knows, or if he believed me. I think it might be okay, but I'm not sure. I just think we shouldn't talk until I know for sure."
"No."
"Spencer…"
"No, I won't walk away. If I do, I'll never talk to you again. I won't lose what we have. If I've put too many demands on you, I'm sorry. I promise I'll -"
"This isn't about you wanting to talk more than once a week," she shouted over him. "I thought you weren't going to call this week. I was beating myself up because of what I said to you the last time we talked."
"I -"
"I don't know what happened except that somewhere along the way I fell in love with you. You don't have to say it."
"But I -"
"I can't let him hurt you. I'll die first."
"Please don't say that," he squeaked.
"I can't help it. I don't want to live without you."
"I care about you too," he said softly.
There was silence on the line. He should have said that he loved her, but he couldn't make his lips say the words. What if he said them and something happened to her? What if he said them, hung up, and never talked to her again?
"You don't have to say it."
He could barely hear her over her tears. He couldn't think of the right thing to say. His brain had thousands of words he could say, but nothing to string together that would help.
"I said it because I mean it. Please let me help you."
"I can't, he'll hurt you."
"What did he say?"
He listened as she told him everything from the time she turned on her radio. "I'm not going to walk away," he reiterated firmly. "If he didn't believe you, then we'll deal with it. Until then, I will call you next week."
"I'll hold you to it," she said shakily. "I don't know how I got through every day before I met you. I need you, Spencer."
"I need you too. Remember, I gave you a cell phone number. You said you memorized it."
"Yes, but, Spencer…"
"I told you if you need me, you call me."
"I can't -"
"Yes, you can. I don't care about what happens to me. I will not let him dictate our relationship or hurt you."
"Spencer…"
"I'm going to call you next week. Don't ignore me, please."
She sighed. "I won't ignore your call."
"Look, from what you told me, I think he believed your story about the dream. Let's not panic yet."
"You really think so?"
No he didn't think so, but he couldn't say it. "Yes, my professional opinion as a profiler is that he wants to scare you, but that's all. Don't let him."
"I'll try."
He wanted to tell her everything would be okay, but he couldn't say it.
"I'll talk to you next week."
"Alright."
He hung up after she didn't say she loved him again. Why couldn't he say the important things? Why did he let her go on this way? How could he leave her in such danger?
He reached out for the phone again, but let his fingers drop off the black surface of the receiver. He pulled his cell from his pocket and almost pushed the speed dial for Garcia. He should call her and do what he should have done months ago. Garcia could find her. It would be easy.
He shoved the phone in his bag and left the phone booth with hunched shoulders and a bowed head.
CMCMCMCM
He watched Dr. Reid leave the phone booth and smiled. Convincing her that he believed her lies only enhanced his control over her. Now she'd never be sure that she was safe to talk to this Dr. Reid. Now her profiler knew, and he'd never feel safe talking to her again. How long would it be, before one of them snapped and tried to escape? He smiled again because it didn't matter. Soon the game would move to the next level, and like the chess masters of old, he'd spring the perfect trap for all of them. He couldn't wait to see if the white queen would be saved or would she be sacrificed.