This one is pretty short. Sorry for that. I wish more people wrote for this pairing, Seaver/Reid. I would like to read some other fics besides mine. lol.


"No, please don't."

The sound of whispers and whimpering woke Spencer Reid from his sleep. He took in his surroundings and remembered that he was staying at Ashley Seaver's house for the night. She was scared after she had been taken by the man who lived across the street. He looked down at her, and noticed the look of discomfort on her face. She must have been having a nightmare.

"Ashley." Reid tried to wake her. "It's okay."

"Please. Help me. Spencer!" Ashley continued to cry.

Again, Reid tried to wake her by lightly shaking her shoulder. "Ashley. It's me, Spencer. Wake up."

"Oh god, please no! Spencer, help me…"

"Please wake up, Ashley. Please wake up, it's me. It's okay, you're safe now." With one final shake of her shoulder, Spencer was able to wake Ashley from her nightmare.

"Spencer?"

"I'm right here. You're alright." He pulled her into a hug. "You were just dreaming."

"It was so real. I suppose that's because it was real, I was just reliving it."

"Maybe you should talk to someone about this, as in someone besides me, a professional."

"I don't know. I'm not sure that's necessary. It's still fresh, of course I would have a nightmare about it tonight. I'm sure it will pass in a few days."

"Okay, well what can I do to help?"

"Just hug me tighter."

"I can do that." He pulled her a little tighter into himself. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. I just need a few days to get over it, and then everything will be back to normal. When I was younger, I used to have nightmares every so often because of the things my dad would do. I remember trying to stay awake for a few days straight so that I wouldn't have to fall into the trap of the nightmares."

"That must have been rough."

"You know what was really rough? Knowing that the things my dad did to those women, were worse than the things I saw in my nightmares."

Spencer didn't know what to say. He just lay next to her and continued to rub his hand along her arm.

"I think I'm going to get a glass of water." Ashley got up from the bed. "You want anything?"

"No, I'm alright. Hurry back." He watched her nod as she left the bedroom.

Laying back on his pillow he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. He wanted to help her, more than anything. However, he didn't think that hugs, and laying next to her in bed were going to erase all of her problems. He desperately wanted her to talk to someone, a professional, someone who was not him. Maybe they could help her with not only being kidnapped, but with her issues with her childhood. He knew that she wouldn't seek the help herself, so he was going to have to do it for her.


A few days later, Spencer walked into Ashley's house. She told him to make a copy of her key so he could let himself in whenever he wanted to. He thought it best to call out to her that he was coming in as to not scare her.

"Ash, it's me!"

"Hey, I'm in the kitchen." He heard her call out to him.

Walking into the kitchen he saw Ashley cooking something on the stove. It looked like chicken to him.

"Oh that looks delicious. Am I allowed to stay for dinner?"

"Of course. I always make enough for two, just in case you stop by for dinner. And recently since you have been staying here at night, I've just assumed that most nights you will be here for dinner."

"Well I'm always up for good homecooked food. I never had that as a kid, and even as an adult, I'm not that great of cook. I am however a whiz at using a microwave."

Ashley laughed at him. "Well if I ever need help making easy mac or a frozen dinner, then I know who to call."

As Ashley placed the food onto two plates, Spencer spoke up. "So have you given any more thought to what I said the other night?"

"thought to what?" She asked as she placed the plates on the table and they sat down.

"Seeing a therapist."

"I don't know Spencer. A therapist? You really think it's that bad that I would need a therapist?"

"I think that it couldn't hurt to see one. You have nightmares, obviously some post traumatic stress. Why wouldn't you want to go?"

"It just seems so weak, not being able to deal with my problems myself. Needing someone else's help, it seems like I can't handle my own issues."

"Yeah, needing someone's help to get over something that you can't get over yourself. Crazy, right?"

Spencer looked away from her and picked at his food. He didn't seem to want to make eye contact with her. Suddenly it hit her. What she had said, she had insulted him.

"Oh, no! Spence, that's not what I meant. I wasn't talking about you…"

"It's okay. I get it. You don't have to try to cover up what you said."

"I'm not trying to say that you are weak, you know I don't think that Spencer." She tried to reach forward to him, but he pulled back.

"You know, the whole time I was under the power of that drug, I felt weak. I WAS weak. That drug was strong, and I was weak." He looked down at his lap.

"Spencer…"

"But it was just for a moment. You and everyone else may not consider me as strong, but in reality I am strong. I work for the FBI, I put myself in situations that others wouldn't ever wish to imagine themselves in, and something like that, it makes me a strong person. I survived being the child of a mother with a serious mental condition and something like that, it made me strong. I never get to be weak. It's tough to be strong all of the time, but it's easy to be weak. So when I was on that drug, it made me weak and I gave into it. Because it was easy. It was hard to admit that I needed help to become strong again, but I did need help. If I wouldn't have gotten the help, I would still be weak."

He looked up at her. She was the one looking away now. He lifted himself up and brought his chair closer to her around the table.

"Ashley, look at me." He saw her lift her head to look at him. "You are strong. You survived being the child of a father with a serious mental condition, and that made you strong. You work for the FBI, doing things that other people would never want to get involved with, and that makes you strong. You are strong, and you never get to be weak. Being that strong all of the time, it's hard. You are only having a moment of weakness, but you need help to get back to being strong. Let me help you, by getting you help."

Ashley looked into his eyes. He looked so sincere there was no way that she could say no to him. What was the harm in going to at least one session. "Okay, I'll go. But can you go with me?"

"Of course. Whatever you want."

"Thank you Spencer. I love you."

"I only want to help you feel better. I love you too."


A few weeks later, Ashley was sitting in her living room surrounded by a pile of letters. She had been going to a therapist for a few days every week, and one of the things that the therapist suggested is that she make peace with her father. She had thought that she had, but her therapist said that she more thank likely only made peace with what her father did, not her father himself. She hadn't made peace with the fact that he wasn't the father to her that she wanted him to be, and because of his actions she was robbed of her childhood.

So she decided that she would open a few of the letters from her father. He still sent them to her, but she never opened them. Maybe now was the time to read them and make peace with him. She looked at them all sitting around her, there was so many. He had sent quite a few and she had never opened any of them. She picked up the one he had sent her first, right after he went to prison. She was younger then, about 18. She wasn't ready at the time to read what he had to say, but now maybe she was ready.

She heard her front door open.

"Hey, Ashley!"

"In the living room." She responded. She looked up to see Spencer Reid walk into the room.

"I got your message to come by, what's going on?"

"I went to my session today."

"How did it go? I'm sorry I couldn't go today, but I had some things I had to get done at work."

"It went well. Dr. Andrews talked about how I might be ready to forgive my father for everything that went on in my childhood. Not being there for me like a normal father, not getting to have a normal childhood, things like that. She recommended that I read some of the letters that he sent me. I've had them for so long and haven't read any of them, but maybe now I should."

"If that's what you want to do."

"Yeah it is, at least I think it is. I wanted you to come by because I wanted to read them with you."

"Okay, I can do that."

She took the letter in her hands and went to open it. It was the first letter that her father had ever sent her, right after he went away to prison. "Here goes nothing." She pulled the letter out from the envelope. It was a small piece of paper, most likely from a composition notebook. It had been folded numerous times until it was a small little clump of paper. She started to unfold the paper until it was completely open. She saw that it was a short letter, something she wasn't expecting. She thought for his first letter he would have written a lengthy letter, trying to explain himself, and writing about how sorry he was to her. She handed the letter to Reid.

"Here, will you read it to me?"

"Are you sure, it seems like a private thing for you to read yourself."

"I'm sure. Please?"

"Alright." Spencer shifted on the couch they were sitting on. Holding up the letter he began to read it to her.

"My beautiful daughter, Ashley,

I want to tell you how sorry I am for what I have done. I have done not only horrible things to others, but horrible things to you, my own flesh and blood. I forced you to grow up too fast, and I have robbed you of something that you were entitled to; a childhood. I know that sorry cannot undo the things I have done or erase the pain that I have caused you, but I can only hope that one day you can forgive me. Not a day will go by that I will not miss seeing your beautiful face. I hope that you can find some form of peace for your life and I hope that you can find happiness. I love you more than anything in this world.

Sincerely,

Dad"

Ashley pulled her legs up onto the couch. "That letter almost makes him seem like a normal man, right?"

"Yeah." Spencer responded.

"There were a lot of times that he did seem normal. He would act like a normal father, but then ten minutes later I saw the anger in him. The terror inside of him that I knew made him turn into a monster. He wanted to be a good father, but he was ill. He wasn't able to be the father that I needed him to be. I was angry at him for quite a long time. But I don't want to be angry anymore."

"You don't?" Spencer put his arm around her.

"No. You know, the way I see it, being angry is easy. It's hard to forgive, to not be angry anymore. I've been stuck being angry at my father for years, because it's easy. But I just needed a little help to get back to being strong."

She leaned up to kiss Spencer. He placed his hand on her cheek and said, "That sounds really wise."

She smiled at him. "Well, I've picked up a lot of wisdom from my incredibly wise boyfriend."


Let me know what you thought. If you guys have any suggestions about something you want me to write about, I would be open to hearing any of those. Like if there was a scenario that you think I should write about Spencer/Ashley you could ask me and maybe I'll write a chapter about that. Also I just want to say thanks to everyone who reads this story, it means a lot to me that you guys read it and like it.