Getting through the exam was an ordeal on its own and yet it wasn't as bad as Spencer had thought it would be. Their doctor was a woman, thankfully. That alone made it easier. But Mikayla wasn't quite comfortable with anyone really touching her. She kept Spencer close to her side while at the same time seeming afraid of letting him see her. Though Spencer hated it, there was nothing he could really do to stop this from happening. He could only ride it out with her. By the time they were done, the both of them were frazzled, stressed, and ready to leave. Spencer's heart ached from things he'd seen. There were small, random scars Mikayla flinched over being seen, things that she tried to hide from his eyes that he knew hadn't been there before. One on her inner thigh, a couple thin ones on her back, and then the worst of all—her right ankle. Though they weren't extremely noticeable, there were scars there that Spencer only recognized because of his work. They were scars that came from being cuffed. She had been cuffed on her ankle and, from the looks of it, it had either been too tight at one point or she'd tried to pull free and tore the skin a few times. The scars were old now, healed over; just shining, barely raised lines on her skin.

The doctor, Dr. Lynn, gave them a moment for her to dress before they brought Morgan and Emily in with Amelia.

Finally, both of the girls were declared in good health. Mikayla was given some paperwork on the care she needed to take and what kind of diet the doctor wanted her on—she was underweight, as Spencer had thought. Otherwise, they were given the green light to go home so long as she followed orders and made sure to rest.

With good timing, JJ was just entering the waiting room when the group made their way back out. She had a diaper bag slung over one shoulder and another bag on her arm. As they got close, Morgan's phone rang and he stepped off to the side. When JJ saw them, she smiled at them all. As they got close, she started to take the diaper bag off her shoulder. "I got the stuff you needed, Spence, and a few other things as well. Most of it is out in my car right now but I brought up the stuff I thought you might need." She turned away from him and toward Mikayla, putting on her friendliest smile and holding out a hand. "Hi. I'm Jennifer Jareau, but everyone just calls me JJ. It's really, really nice to meet you."

Mikayla hesitantly stuck a hand out. She shook JJ's hand, giving a shy sort of smile. "It's nice to meet you too, JJ. I'm Mikayla."

"I brought some baby things for your little one and I grabbed some stuff for you too. I kind of had to guess off the size, but I thought you might like something fresh to put on so I figured we could just make due." JJ said with a gesture toward the bag on her arm. "Would you like to step in the bathroom, get yourself and your baby changed? I don't mind stepping in with you and giving you a hand if you'd like."

It didn't escape anyone's notice, the way Mikayla looked to Spencer first. He nodded at her and squeezed the hand he was holding in a reassuring way. "Go ahead. I'll wait right here for you, okay?"

"Promise?"

"I do."

With one last deep breath, she nodded at him and turned back toward JJ. "Fresh clothes would be wonderful." She admitted. She took the baby carrier from Spencer and then she and JJ set off to the bathroom just ahead. Spencer watched them until they disappeared inside. Then he wasted no time in turning toward Morgan to find out what was going on. He had to wait a minute as Morgan wrapped up the call before his friend finally turned toward him. Spencer stepped toward him. "What's going on?" he asked his friends. Emily stood at Morgan's side, waiting to find out about the phone call.

Morgan took a quick look around to make sure they were clear before he started to sum things up. "So far there's no sign of Colby anywhere. Garcia can't find anything on him since college. No one's been able to get Mr. Walker on the phone yet; apparently he's on some fishing trip."

"Yeah, he goes once a month if he can." Spencer told him. "Really he just goes to his cabin and hides out for a few days, but he claims he's fishing."

"Well, no one got him on his cell so they're sending an officer out there to let him know, just so they don't take any chances. Mrs. Walker and Memaw were told what was going on and, despite being told it's not the best thing to do, they booked a flight out and apparently they'll be in by about eight thirty tomorrow morning. I just talked to Hotch and he said JJ tried talking them out of it and so did the locals, but it's a no go. They were set on coming no matter what. "

At that bit of news, Spencer swore he could feel the headache building behind his temples. The idea of dealing with Memaw wasn't troublesome; if anything, she would probably be helpful. But Mikayla and Betsy Ann had butt heads more often than anything and he didn't know how well he was going to be up to dealing with that and he wasn't looking forward to protecting even more people. This just made things even more difficult. "That woman thrives on making things difficult for other people." He grumbled under his breath. Then he sighed. "But it'll make Mikayla happy. It'll help her to see them." And that was what mattered. He looked back to Morgan again. "Where are we staying?"

"Here's the thing, kid." Something crossed Morgan's face and Spencer could see that his friend didn't want to have to say whatever this was. The discomfort and annoyance there were a good clue and Spencer had a feeling he knew what was coming. Morgan shifted and sighed. "The Bureau, well..."

"They still believe she walked away on her own." Spencer cut in flatly. "Since she didn't show with any obvious signs of abuse and now her exam came clean, they'll take that to mean that there wasn't any kidnapping. That she's just made this up. So they won't issue protection when they see no actual threat."

"Exactly. But that doesn't mean we're not going to protect you guys. There are still five of us, kid. We'll take shifts and keep you guys safe. And Hotch is working with Strauss to try and get even just a light detail. For now, we're on it, with or without their help. Hotch says that you're off tomorrow and so am I so I can stick with you guys to keep an eye out. Even if we're on our own, we'll keep you guys safe. But that means we need to figure out a place to put you all to better watch out for you."

Emily spoke up for the first time. "We're not going to leave you guys in the lurch. We know what's going on, even if no one else wants to accept it."

There was no way he was going to be able to house everyone in his apartment, not comfortably. And to put everyone up in a hotel and watch them there would be too much of a dent in his pocketbook. Granted, he wasn't anywhere near as poor as people might've thought he was, but that didn't mean that he could just shell out for a hotel for a whole group of people. But where could he fit himself, Mikayla, Amelia, Betsy Ann, Memaw, and whoever decided to stay with them to 'stand guard'? Because he knew Morgan and he knew his best friend was most likely going to take up residence with him until this was taken care of. Bringing his fingers up to his temples, Spencer rubbed at the headache, trying to think of what to do. He needed a house big enough to hold them all.

A house.

He opened his eyes and looked back at his friends. "I've got property we can use."

"What?" Emily said with surprise.

Embarrassed, Spencer dropped his hands, stuffing them in his pockets. "Gideon has a house in Alexandria. When he left, he left me the keys and told me to feel free to use it as often as I needed, kind of as a retreat like he did with his cabin." He shrugged at the looks of disbelief they gave him. "There isn't much there—just some bare essentials. The basic things I'll need when I just want to escape. But it'll fit everyone in it. I'll just need to get the utilities turned on." And he would call Gideon to make sure the man was okay with this, something he didn't think he should mention to the others. Gideon had requested he keep quiet about the minimal contact they had with one another.

Emily raised an eyebrow and gave him an appraising, slightly amused look. "You're just full of surprises, Reid."

Humor was in Morgan's eyes and had his lips curling. "I'll tease you about it later. For now, it's late, kid. Why don't you guys just stay with me for tonight until we get the power on at this place? You three can crash in the guest room tonight."

It seemed like the best option. More than anything, Spencer wanted to get Mikayla somewhere that she could rest. She looked exhausted and she needed sleep. Sighing, he nodded. "So long as you're sure, Morgan. I don't want to put you out."

"Shut up, kid. That's what family does, all right?" Morgan said with a roll of his eyes. He gestured off to the side and Spencer saw the ladies stepping out of the bathroom. "Now come on, let's get your family and get home. I think everyone needs some rest."

Things seemed to be moving so quickly. Mikayla felt like she was just being pulled along, rushed from here to there, with no idea what was going on anymore or what was happening around her. There were so many people, so many different things, and she was just so tired. Tired physically, mentally, and emotionally. Too many things had happened in the past twenty four hours and it was all catching up with her. She was barely awake through the ride to wherever they were going. When they got there, she stuck close to Spencer and followed his lead, letting him get her and Amelia inside the house while the other agents unloaded things from the car that JJ had brought for them. Apparently Spencer had sent her shopping. The fact that he'd thought of that, of her and Amelia needing things, was touching.

"Come on." Spencer said softly to her. He could see how disoriented she was. "Why don't we go in the kitchen and get a drink while they get stuff inside?"

She let him usher her in through a cozy looking entryway and into an equally cozy dining room and kitchen. "Where are we at?" She asked him as she sat at the table when he pulled a chair out for her. Amelia's carrier was placed by her feet. "Is this place…is it yours?" He seemed so comfortable and at ease here, yet it didn't seem like his place. The things, the décor, didn't seem like things he would've chosen. Then again, you've been gone for years. He may have changed. Maybe this is the style he likes now.

Humor lit Spencer's face. He paused in mid-stretch toward a cupboard to turn and look at her, his smile lighting up his whole face and warming her from the inside out. "Does this really look like my type of place?" Amusement was laced through his words. "This is Morgan's place."

A hesitant smile curved her lips. "I did wonder why there weren't floor to ceiling books when we came in."

This time Spencer let a warm chuckle out. He pulled cups out of the cupboard and set them on the counter. Then he moved over to the stove, pulling out a tea kettle and filling it with water to get it started warming. "That would require Morgan to pick up an actual book."

"I heard that!" Morgan called out as he walked past, carrying what looked to be a…a bassinette. "I do know how to read, kid!"

Emily followed behind him, carrying a couple shopping bags. "Dirty magazines don't count, Morgan."

His answer could be heard echoing down the hallway. "I read more than that! And they do have stories in them, you know."

Chuckling even more, Spencer moved to another cupboard and pulled out a basket with tea bags in it. He set it down and turned his head to give her his smile once more. "The tea's mine. I spend time here often enough that I make him keep things around for me. You still drink chamomile tea?"

He remembers the tea you like. Her smile grew just the slightest bit. "I do." She tipped her head sideways just a little. "Do you still drink earl grey?"

"When I can't have coffee."

"Has he always been a coffee freak?" Morgan asked as he came back out to the dining room. He moved past Spencer, skirting around him to get to the fridge, but he cast a humorous look at Mikayla. She found herself smiling back instinctively. Something about the man was just so kind and friendly it was hard to resist. "Yes." She answered him. "We both were. He actually introduced me to it. I'd never tried it and one day, he offered me his cup. From then on out, he always brought a second one for me."

"I had to!" Spencer defended with a grin. "You drank the rest of mine that day. Offering you a taste was not an invitation to consume the entire beverage."

"Terms were never stipulated." She countered. "Therefore it was an open ended offer."

Emily laughed as she joined them. She stopped by the table to smile down at Mikayla. "The bassinette is set up if you'd like to lay her down. There's a baby monitor in there too so you can bring the base out and hear her, just in case. I set that up for you."

Surprised, Mikayla looked around her at these people who seemed so easy, so accepting. They didn't seem to be flinching at all from what she said or what was happening. They were just rolling with the punches and treating it like it was the most normal thing for an absentee wife to show up with a new baby that wasn't her husbands. Like it was something they dealt with every day. She didn't know how to act around them or how to take their reactions. "I, um, thank you. I think I'll go feed her and lay her down." She slung on the diaper bag and bent to lift the carrier. She looked to Spencer. "I'll be back out shortly." She told him before turning to Emily. "Can you show me where to go?"

"Sure thing. Come on this way."

Fifteen minutes later found the three profilers and Mikayla seated in Morgan's living room. Spencer and Mikayla took the couch while Morgan and Emily took the recliners. Spencer knew what was coming and he wished they didn't have to. There was no telling how Mikayla was going to react to this. But he couldn't stop it; it had to be done. All he could do was be here for her. He'd asked Morgan to let him tell her what was going to happen, though. He thought she might take it better from him.

When they were all settled in, Spencer leaned forward and set his mug down on a coaster on the coffee table. Then he turned himself toward her just slightly. "Mikayla. I understand that today has been so very hard on you. You've been absolutely amazing so far and so very strong. I know that you're ready to just lie down and shut all this off." Reaching out, he put his hand on her knee, trying to catch her eye as he bent his head a little. "Morgan and Emily, they've got a few questions they need to ask you. Things that can help us catch Colby. Do you think you're up for answering them right now?"

She had her head bowed, her eyes staring down into her mug. He thought to himself how very small she looked sitting there. Dressed in clothes that were just a bit too big for her and huddled in the way she was, she seemed so small. None of that strength he knew was in there was showing at the moment. She looked like a wrong move, a wrong word, would shatter her. The dainty hands that held her mug shook slightly and she leaned forward to place her mug on a coaster. Then she sat back, curling her legs up with her, curling in on herself in a defensive pose, and Spencer had to fight the urge to scoop her up and shelter her from anything ever hurting her again. He wanted to protect her so that no more harm could come to her but he knew he couldn't. They had to do this.

When she was fully curled onto the couch, legs up and arms around herself, she nodded at them. "I'm ready."

A look from Spencer told Morgan to hurry up and get this done with. He wanted it over so he could get his wife lying down. She didn't need anything else today and if this wasn't extremely important, he wouldn't be allowing it now. Morgan nodded his understanding and he and Emily sat forward in their chairs, switching over toward work mode. Emily pulled something out of her bag and set it down by them on the coffee table. "Mikayla, we're going to record this if that's all right with you. For evidentiary purposes. Are you okay with that?"

"Yes." She said softly.

Emily pressed the button to record and sat back. She took lead first, hoping to make Mikayla more comfortable. "Can you state your name for me?" They would start with easy questions, setting a baseline.

Though her voice was quiet, it was steady. "Mikayla Rae Reid."

"Do you know what day it is, Mikayla?"

She paused for a second to think before answering. "I believe the calendar at the hospital said it was Thursday, October first, 2010."

"Do you know where you are now?" Emily asked. It was simply to establish that her mind was in working order, that she was capable of understanding where she was and what was going on around her. Spencer knew that, but Mikayla didn't. She actually looked toward Emily then, one eyebrow cocked, her voice just slightly steadier as she said "Agent Morgan's house."

Humor brightened Emily's eyes for a second. "I know these questions seem silly, but we need to show your thought process before we get into more detailed questions." Then she settled back in, getting just a little more serious, her voice gentling a bit. "We're going to ask you some questions first and then we're going to try and walk you through what happened to see if we can gain some more details. Are you ready, Mikayla?"

A soft tremble took her. She moved one hand, sliding it toward Spencer. He turned his hand so that she clasped his, not him grabbing hers, letting her control their touching. "I'm ready." She said.

"Can you tell us where you've been living recently?"

"I didn't know for a while, but when I was at the hospital to have Amelia, a sign said Summit, Kentucky."

"Can you describe the house for us that you stayed at?" If she hadn't known her exact location, maybe she could give them enough of a description that Garcia might be able to search property and narrow it down.

Mikayla chewed on her lip in a gesture the two agents found so reminiscent of Spencer. "It was a two bedroom cabin. A single story. I, I don't know how much property there was. We were almost completely surrounded by trees except for the driveway. But it was simple. There was no phone, but he had television."

"That's good. You're doing fine, Mikayla." Emily reassured her. "Now, when you went to the hospital to have Amelia, who took you there?"

"C-Colby."

"Do you know what name he checked you in under?"

"Tyler. He told people I was Kay Tyler, his wife." Her hand clenched on Spencer's hand at the word wife.

Spencer watched Morgan jot that down. They would check records for a Colby Tyler now to see if he'd used that name for other things as well. If they'd had TV at this cabin, they would've had power, which meant somewhere there would be a power bill."

It was Morgan who asked the next question, his voice pitched lower and gentler than normal, the voice he used when speaking with victims. "Can you tell us what he looks like, Mikayla? Maybe he's changed his looks, or there's something distinguishing about him that he won't be able to hide." He left unspoken that Colby could alter his appearance now to remain hidden.

"He didn't change his looks." She said with a shake of her head. "But he, he has a scar on his face he can't hide. On his left cheek, back towards his ear. About…this big." She held up her free hand, spacing her pointer finger and thumb apart to guesstimate the size. Spencer couldn't stop himself from saying "About five inches, then. Roughly." He cut off when he saw the amused looks his direction. Flushing, he settled back, letting them get back to what they were doing.

Morgan shook his head once at Spencer before going back to Mikayla. "Do you know what kind of car he drove? A car, truck, van?"

This time it was Spencer's turn to look amused. He couldn't stop from smiling as Mikayla opened her mouth and proceeded to surprise the two agents. "He drives a 1983 Ford F-250 extended cab pickup. A while back he installed a power winch to the back. The truck is white with a solid blue stripe running down either side. I know the letters were AWF but I don't remember the numbers on the plate." Well used to people's reactions, Mikayla gave them a genuine smile. "My Daddy's didn't worry about gender. He taught me all the things you'd teach a son, like hunting, fishing, cars and other things like that."

"So you can shoot, too?" Emily asked her.

"Yes, ma'am."

"All right. Why don't you walk us through what happened the day you were taken, Mikayla?" Morgan brought the conversation back under control. "What do you remember?"

Slowly Mikayla walked them through it, the same as she'd done with Spencer. She told them how she'd been waiting for Spencer to get home, getting ready to make coffee, and how Colby had stopped by. How'd he'd threatened to kill her father if she didn't cooperate and how he'd said that Spencer was brainwashing her, that she didn't really love him. "He kept telling me that, over and over." She whispered in a hoarse voice. Her hand was clenched on Spencer's and her eyes had dropped to her lap. "He kept saying he knew I wasn't really happy and that I didn't know better. That Spencer had brainwashed me and that he was going to help me see the truth. See that we were meant to be together."

"So he thought you and he were in love?" Emily asked.

"Yes." Nodding, Mikayla visibly tried to draw herself together. "So long as I played into that, played his game, he really wasn't…he wasn't that violent. He, he only got mad when I, when I tried to leave or argue. If I f-fought him. Then he'd get m-mad and he'd, he'd…" She stopped, her voice cutting off, and swallowed audibly. Her grip was so tight now her knuckles were white. Spencer said not a sound. He was fighting back his own anger. Right now this wasn't about him; it couldn't be about him. This was about her and she needed him here and strong for her. He kept a tight lid on his emotions and did the only thing he could, silently sitting there, holding her hand and supporting her.

Eventually she found her voice once more. "He'd hit me." She whispered. "But it only happened if I fought him. If I played along, pretended we were a happy couple, he could be so sweet. At first, he, he kept me ch-chained in the house by my, my ankle. When I was good for a while, he took it off and let me roam free. I waited a few days, let him think I was good, and then I ran. But he caught me." Her voice dropped low, emotion throbbing in the words. "He, he was furious. After he…after…he got a, a s-shock collar. I c-couldn't leave the house or it would g-go off and I couldn't pick the lock on it."

Bile rose in Spencer's throat. He didn't know if he could handle hearing this. A shock collar? A fucking shock collar? If he could, he would hunt Colby down for this and he wouldn't kill the bastard. Oh, no. That would be too simple. Too easy. No, he'd torture the bastard so that he knew what it felt like to be reduced to something like this. To be treated this way.

Mikayla lifted a hand to her face, covering her mouth, and Spencer ached to take her in his arms, but she was letting go of his hand and rising to her feet, her arms coming around her waist. Emily leaned forward to stop the tape and then she rose as well. "Why don't we take a break? This is plenty for tonight, Mikayla. This is enough to work with, okay?" She gave her a kind look. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"I…I'd like to take a shower, please, if that's all right. I, I want to get clean."

The trembling words were quiet, barely able to be heard. Morgan looked up at them and quickly answered her. "Of course. It's the second door on the left. Towels are on the shelf in there. Just help yourself to any of the shampoo and such in there."

"Thank you." Quick as a flash, she disappeared down the hall. A moment later they heard the bathroom door shut.

The living room stayed quiet as they all waited and listened. When the sounds of the shower turning on reached them, it seemed to break the spell over the room. The frozen feeling Spencer had felt vanished underneath a sheet of rage and heartache. He didn't think, didn't pause; knew only that he couldn't sit here. He shoved off the couch, ignoring Emily's whispered "Reid…" All he could think of was getting the hell out of this stifling room. Away from the echo of her words that still seemed to ring around him. He headed straight to Morgan's back patio, needing the fresh air. Needing to be able to breathe again. Behind him, Emily stared after him, unsure what to do. Morgan rose from his chair, putting a hand on her arm. "Keep an ear for Amelia, would you?" He murmured to her. "I got Reid."

Finally outside, Spencer lurched to the edge of the patio, grabbing onto the railing to support himself before his knees ended up giving way. He clutched tightly, until his knuckles were white, keeping himself upright. His stomach was churning, threatening to empty on him at any moment. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break down and cry. He wanted to find Colby and kill him. So many conflicting emotions and he couldn't sort them out, couldn't breathe past them, could barely even think. Behind him he heard someone come out and knew without even looking that it would be Morgan. Right at the moment he didn't try speaking to him. He fought to clear the haze from his eyes and to bring himself back under control, little bit by little bit.

How long they stood there in the dark of the night and the quiet, Spencer didn't know. It could have been only minutes or an hour. He had no idea. Eventually, he felt under control enough to finally speak. "I could kill him, Morgan." He said hoarsely.

"I know, kid."

"A shock collar. He put her in a shock collar." Spencer's hands tightened on the railing. His muscles were trembling with the anger inside of him. He had never felt so furious in his entire life. This was beyond anger. This was rage. "He's broken part of her, Morgan, and I don't know if we'll be able to put that part back together."

Morgan stepped up beside him, one hand going to his shoulder. "With help, she'll heal from this, kid. And so will you. Together, you guys will make it. But you're going to have to admit that you can't do it alone."

"I know." Sighing, Spencer brought a hand up, running it through his hair. "If this were a case, I'd advise the victims to seek professional help. I'd tell them that it may look hard now, but it will get better and that they can make it with the proper help. I'd talk to them about PTSD, maybe, or other things. But dammit, this isn't just some case and she's not just a victim. She's my wife." His hand dropped back down to the railing once more to grip there. "I want to help her. I want to take her somewhere away from all this, just her and I and Amelia, and start to heal. To shut out the world and forget everything. I want to hold her and tell her that it's going to be okay and everything will be fine. But I can't. I can't do any of that. All I can do is sit and watch her hurt and hold her hand and hope that maybe, this time, I won't fail in protecting her." The last part slipped out without him intending it to, the words echoing in the night around them.

Before Morgan could comment on that statement, Spencer pushed away from the railing, moving toward the house. "I'm going to go check on her." He said, and he hurried inside.

A glance at the clock showed him that he and Morgan had been outside for almost forty minutes. Because of that, he was surprised to hear that the shower was still running. When he got close, Spencer furrowed his brows and hesitated. He lifted a hand and rapped his knuckles against the door. "Mikayla?" He tried not to call out too loudly; Amelia was sleeping not far away. His call brought no answer, though. He tried again. "Mikayla?"

On the other side of the door he heard a soft sound, low and quickly choked off, that tugged at his heart. A sob. Instinct took over and Spencer grabbed the handle, cracking the door open. He couldn't just leave her in here if she were crying, yet he didn't want to terrify her by coming in while she was naked. He could easily imagine that she wouldn't be comfortable being naked around anyone right about now. "Mikayla?" He called out carefully as he slipped into the bathroom. There was another choked off sob, but no words. Spencer stepped inside and pushed the door shut behind him. He couldn't just leave her in here. He couldn't.

Cautiously he made his way to the tub, noticing the steam that filled the bathroom and fogged the mirror. She'd been running the shower hot. The clinical part of his brain logged that fact away for later; the rest of him was focused solely on the shower in front of him. When he reached the tub, he stopped by the curtain, not quite sure what to do. "Mikayla, honey, it's me." No answer. "Mikayla?" No answer. Spencer couldn't hold back anymore. He took hold of the edge of the curtain and looked inside. What he found brought tears to his eyes. Mikayla was on the floor of the tub, her knees curled to her chest, arms wrapped round her legs and her face buried against her knees. Her whole body shook with quiet sobs.

All reserve dropped away and Spencer led with his heart. He reached in, hand going to the faucet to shut the shower and the water off, wincing when he felt how cold the water had gone. With his other hand he grabbed the towel she'd apparently set on the counter by the sink. Then he pulled the curtain back fully and sat down on the edge of the tub. "Come on, honey. Let's get you warm and dry." He said softly. With gentle hands he shook the towel out and leaned in, draping it over her shaking form. With the water off, he could hear her crying; hear the little sobs that were catching in her throat. When he wrapped the towel around her, she didn't resist, allowing him to tuck it around her body.

With gentle murmurs and tender hands, he coaxed her up off the bottom of the tub, twining the large towel around her as she rose. When she was standing and he had the towel fully tucked around her, he stood as well, helping her to step out of the tub. He had expected her to be more reluctant to his touch, so it surprised him when she almost collapsed into his arms. He just barely managed to catch her, sinking down onto the closed toilet to keep them from falling. She moved with him, easily curling into his lap, her face burying against his neck. Spencer ignored the water soaking his clothes and just wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He didn't shush her or try and soothe her back down. He sat there and held her close, cradling her against him like the precious thing that she was, and let her cry. "That's it." He murmured against her hair. "I'm right here. I've got you. Just let it out."

Her arms wound around him, hands fisting in the back of his shirt, and she was trying to talk but the sobs broke through the words until she finally gave up and simply slumped against him, crying and crying and Spencer felt his own tears falling. He held her and smoothed back her hair and murmured encouragingly, coaxing her to let it all out, to go ahead, that he was there and she was safe with him and it was okay to cry, it's okay, I love you and I've got you.

When the tears finally slowed, Mikayla was slumped against him, her body exhausted. He knew she wasn't going to stay awake much longer. The day had taken so much out of her and this bout of crying had just about done her in. Looking to the counter, he saw that there were clothes stacked there; Emily must have brought them in while he was outside with Morgan, because he knew Mikayla hadn't gone to the bedroom before coming in here. Blessing Emily's thoughtfulness, Spencer stretched one arm out and picked up the shirt first, pulling it toward them. She didn't resist as he helped her slide the shirt on. She slid her arms in and let him pull it down over the towel. Once it was on, he got her to stand, helping to hold her up when he saw her legs shake. The shirt hung low enough that it covered her as he pulled the towel out from underneath it. Then he took up the plaid pajama pants, blessing JJ for thinking of getting these things for her, and he helped her step into them, bringing them up and tying them at her waist so they'd stay up.

She curled into him once she was dressed, wobbling slightly on her feet, and he knew she'd reached that limit. Her body had had enough. For the second time that day, Spencer didn't hesitate to pick her up in his arms, cradling her to his chest. With careful maneuvering, he got the bathroom door open and carried her out into the hall. No one was around, thankfully. Spencer took her straight to the guestroom he'd used plenty of times when he'd stayed over here at Morgan's.

Once in the room, he quietly shut the door, leaving the room lit only by the low lamp. He peeked in at Amelia as he passed the bassinette, relieved when he saw her still sleeping peacefully, and then he carried Mikayla straight to the bed. He got the covers pulled back and was laying her down when her arms tried to tighten around him. She let out a little whimper that made his heart ache. "It's okay." He said soothingly. "I'm just laying you in bed, honey. You're okay."

"Stay?" The word was a quiet, exhausted whisper, but he heard it and he couldn't help but smile down at her. He hadn't been sure what to do about sleeping, not knowing how she'd feel or what would be comfortable for her, but here was his answer. "I'm not going anywhere." He promised. "I just need to get these wet clothes off, okay?"

She finally let go of him, allowing him to straighten up. When he went to strip out of his clothes, he saw his go-bag was lying on the floor and said a silent thanks to whoever had grabbed it from the office for him—most likely JJ had when she'd left. The woman was a wonder. Spencer changed into a pair of pajama pants and the oversized t-shirt he often wore to bed, putting his wet clothes over a chair to dry, and then he checked on Amelia one last time before climbing into bed. He lay on his side, one hand reaching out to smooth a still damp bit of hair back off Mikayla's cheek. All the pain and fear and anger aside, one thing shone brightest in him, one thought clearest. She was home. That was the most important thing of all. Everything else they could deal with. They would deal with it. What mattered most was that she was home. After years and years of being alone, of wondering where she was and if she was okay, he had her back. And he promised himself, lying there and watching as she drifted to sleep, that he would do everything he could to make sure that nothing ever happened to her again.