I stayed with Spencer that night and the next morning until I had to leave to teach a class. I didn't want to go, but Spencer seemed in fairly good spirits for someone who'd just been kidnapped and I had missed a lot of classes while I was busy worrying about him so when he pushed me to go, I did.

I practically skipped all the way to class that afternoon, feeling on top of the world. My man was home, safe and recovering and everything seemed right in the world again. But as usual with a feeling like that, it didn't last.

I ended up teaching my class that day then covering two others afterwards so I was exhausted by the end of it and just wanted to go home and sleep. I checked in with Spencer and everything seemed fine, but when I tried to make plans to see him the following day, he brushed me off. He said he didn't think he'd be up to much and just wanted to rest so he'd be in top form when another case came in. I resisted the urge to point out that he should probably skip out on at least the next case, but I knew any argument would be futile. His job was his life and I doubted that anything would keep him away from it.

Which is why when he didn't answer my calls for a few days and eventually just messaged me to inform me he was in New York with the team on a case I didn't jump to any conclusions. But there was a nagging feeling in my heart. Even when Spencer was on a case, it usually never took more than a couple of hours for him to respond to me unless they were somewhere with bad cell service which I very much doubted was the case in New York. I made myself stay calm though. He had just been through something pretty massive and if he needed some space, I wasn't going to force my company on him.

But as the days passed with little to no word from him, I did start to worry. He ignored almost all of my calls even when he wasn't on a case and when he messaged me he was blunt and snappy. I told myself that I was just reading too much into it, worrying over nothing and that he would get back to his normal self soon, but as one week turned into two and then two turned into three, I missed him and I'd never been a particularly patient person who could just sit around and wait for things to figure themselves out.

So when I woke up one morning just after three am to my phone vibrating and a message from Spencer saying "Are you awake? I need you badly..." I couldn't resist telling him to come over even though my spiteful side was begging me to ignore him like he'd been doing to me.

As soon as I opened the door he was on me. His hands on my hips, pulling me towards him so fast I had to wrap my arms around his neck to steady myself. His lips were on my jaw, trailing kisses up until they reached mine. My body was reacting, I felt a wave of heat and arousal flush through me at his actions, but my heart was warning me to stop. Something wasn't right.

I pulled back slightly, my fingers playing softly with his hair as I took in his appearance. He looked horrible. His eyes were sunken in and bloodshot, like he hadn't slept in days, he was pale and jittery, he looked worse now than he had when he first came home.

"Are you alright?" I asked quietly, my voice rough from the deep sleep I'd been in before Spencer's message woke me up. "I haven't heard from you in days, we've barely talked in weeks and now you show up here in the middle of the night and kiss me like that?"

"Did you not like it?" He asked, his tone harsh and not like the Spencer I knew. "I can leave if I'm bothering you so much."

"I don't want you to leave," I assured him, keeping my voice calm as I hoped it would help him be the same. "I've missed you, I'm glad you're here."

His face softened at my words and a tiny half of a smile appeared on his face.

"I've missed you too, Mickey," He assured me. "Let me show you how much...Please, I need you."

When I read his message I'd assumed, knowing Spencer, that his need was emotional, but I could tell now, especially as he pressed his hips against mine, that he needed me in a difference sense of the word. Again, my heart was warning me against it. There was obviously something bothering him, something that couldn't be fixed by a physical release. But I'd missed him so much. I wanted to be close to him again, to feel that connection. So, convincing myself that maybe I could snap him out of whatever dark place he seemed to be in if I showed him physically how much I cared, I let him lead the way to my bedroom.

What followed was not how I'd pictured our second time together to be. Spencer was still caring, making sure I was okay and happy every step of the way, but it wasn't romantic and passionate. It was dirty and tense, rough and almost angry. It felt like the kind of sex you have after a fight when tensions are still high. It was still really good and left my entire body buzzing with satisfaction, but the warning in my heart still told me that something about this situation wasn't right.

And that warning proved to be correct when I woke up the next morning to an empty bed. For a minute I actually thought perhaps I'd dreamt the whole thing, but the text from Spencer in my phone and the ache in my thighs told me it was real.

I felt tears prick my eyes as I sat up in my bed, stunned with a sickeningly familiar feeling in my stomach. This was what I was used to. The two am booty calls, the dirty emotionless sex and the loneliness in the morning. Feeling satisfied, but used and empty. And the fact it was Spencer who had caused these feelings of doubt in my mind made my heart crack open slightly as I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried.

Things had been going so well for us. I was in a happy, supportive, caring relationship for the first time in my life and yet, here I was in the same place I always ended up. Was it me? Was I unlovable? Was there something about me that screamed I wasn't good for anything, but sex? Maybe I just wasn't relationship material because if someone like Spencer, who put sex very close to the bottom of his list of priorities, only wanted to see me for that purpose then I felt like that said a lot.

I let myself wallow for almost an hour until my tears turned to sniffles and I had to rally myself to teach a class. I was so distracted the whole day that I'm not sure how I made it through my classes, but by the time I was done I was dying for a drink. So much so that my mouth was practically watering at the thought, but Penelope's words were in my head so I got in my car and found myself driving towards Quantico and my best friend.

Once I'd used my handy fake visitor ID to get past security (which was fairly low given that it was five pm and most people were on their way home for the day), I headed straight for Penelope's office. I looked around the bullpen realizing I'd gone completely unnoticed as everyone stared straight at their screens, typing furiously, probably eager to finish up for the day so they could go home. Relieved that I would be able to talk to Penelope without an audience, I turned my focus back to my task, reaching for the handle to her lair just as it suddenly swung open.

"Mickey?" She asked, obviously as started as I was. "What're you doing here?"

I shushed her and quickly pushed her back into the office, the door drifting halfway shut behind us.

"Can I talk to you?" I asked, feeling the nerves bubble up in my stomach. "I'm desperately fighting the urge to drown myself in vodka right now."

"Oh, my Mickey mouse," She sighed, a frown sliding onto her face. "Of course you can. What's going on?"

"I think Spencer is done with me," I admitted, the tears I'd held back all day filling my eyes as Penelope's frown grew even deeper.

"Why on earth would you think that?"

Her tone made my heart drop and suspicions grow. She was saddened by my confession, but there wasn't much surprise.

"He's been so distant since he came back from Atlanta," I explained. "And I know he went through something horrible, but it's been weeks since he answered my calls or we had a proper conversation. He's always either away on a case or busy with paperwork, he finds any excuse to avoid my company or talk about anything important."

"I know it's hard, but he did go through a big trauma," Penelope reminded me, but her lack of eye contact told me there was more going on. "Sometimes people react to that in ways we don't expect, maybe he just needs some time to work through what happened before he can come to you for comfort."

"That's what I thought," I insisted. "But then last night, at three in the morning, he came over to my house. He looked rough so I didn't want to press him for answers, but we ended up having sex and it just felt different. The connection we had wasn't there, it didn't feel like my Spencer at all. Then he was gone when I woke up and I just have this feeling that it was his way of showing me what he wants, that he only wants me for meaningless sex."

Penelope opened her mouth, probably to deny everything I'd said and assure me I was wrong, but the door swung open before she could speak. Standing on the other side was Spencer, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"What're you doing here, Mikayla?" He practically snarled at me.

I noticed behind him, he'd drawn the attention of most of the BAU bullpen and my cheeks grew pink.

"I just came to talk to Penelope," I assured him. "That's all."

"Well I don't think it's appropriate for you to just show up at my place of work whenever you please," He informed me, crossing his arms as Derek stood up and walked towards our group.

"Spencer, hey," He started. "Calm down, man. She's just here to see her friend."

The whole tone of this conversation made my heart sink. He was talking as if I was an ex that he didn't want around, not his current girlfriend and the way Derek was so quick to cut in before things escalated just furthered my belief that I was missing something big here.

"I don't need to calm down," Spencer snapped at his friend. "I find it highly inappropriate that the woman I'm sleeping with constantly shows up at my place of work especially if she's come to discuss the nature of our relationship with one of my co-workers."

The woman I'm sleeping with. His words echoed in my head. A month ago he was introducing me as his girlfriend and now that was all I was to him. I was right. Something had changed. He'd figured out that I wasn't relationship material.

"That co-worker was her best friend long before she was sleeping with you!"

Penelope's voice pulled me out of my thoughts, her mama bear tone reminding me of when we were kids and she stood up for me at school. I always hated when she fought my battles for me, but I felt so lost and full of questions that I didn't even know where to start.

"Well if our business is everyone's business then let's have it out, shall we?" Spencer turned his attention to me, ignoring another warning from Derek. "Did you actually think we were compatible for anything more than sex? I have an IQ of 187 and you barely graduated high school. What could we possible have in common?"

I stared at him in shock, my heart shattering in my chest as Penelope and Derek both jumped to my defence, scolding Spencer for his harsh words.

I knew it wasn't true. We'd been seeing each other for months and only slept together twice. We had plenty to talk about and plenty in common and the way his team, his friends, were reacting I knew there was more to this than I understood, but his words were like a knife in my heart. He saw me like everyone else. I was just a failure, a loser, a girl who partied away her youth and had no direction in life. The kind of girl you spend the weekend with, but never introduce to your parents. He got what he wanted from me and now, he was done.

We stared at each other for a moment and as a tear slid down my cheek, I could've sworn the scowl on his face weakened a bit, but it hardened again as I shook my head before looking over at Penelope.

"And you thought I was the one who would be doing the hurting," I reminded her, my voice hoarse with emotion. She gave me an apologetic look, but I didn't wait for her to comment before pushing my way past Spencer and storming out of her office.

I heard several people calling after me as Derek once again let Spencer know what an jerk he had been, but I didn't turn around until the elevator doors were completely shut behind me so that none of them would see just how hard I was crying.