Hi everyone! WOW. So, I haven't updated in a while. School is keeping me busy, which is good, I guess, but I also want to keep this fic going. Thanks to everyone who reviewed or sent me a PM asking me when I was going to update. This chapter was originally 13,000+ words, but I just couldn't post a chapter that was THAT long, so I'm breaking it into two parts. I'm editing the second part currently, but maybe it'll be up by the end of this week. I have a test coming up Friday, so I probably won't be able to post until the weekend. Thanks once again to Annber03 for being a FANTASTIC editor! Please read and review, folks! It only takes a second!
Disclaimer: I do NOT own Criminal Minds or the rights to any of the songs listed in this chapter.
Warning: Contains spoilers and scenes from 9X10 "The Caller" and 2X15 "Revelations" and slight spoilers for 4X7 "Memoriam".
Also, I am not Italian, nor do I speak it, so if my translations are incorrect, I apologize. (The other Italian words are pretty easy to figure out). But these sentences should translate to:
"Donna, sarai la mia morte!" (Woman, you'll be the death of me!)
"Stai zitto! Tu mi ami!" (Shut up! You love me!)
"Tesoro" is a term of endearment that literally means "treasure", but it used like Dear, Sweetheart, Honey, etc.
Anyway, enough of my ramblings! Hope you enjoy!
"Hi, Leo!" Teagan greeted, stepping inside the small bistro, where a few patrons were currently seated, as Spencer stepped in behind her.
"There's the lovely couple!" Leo shouted from behind the counter. "Come! Sit!" He ushered them towards two seats near the counter. "What would you like to drink?"
"Double espresso," Reid stated.
"I'll take a cappuccino, please," Teagan said. Leo turned to a tall, dark haired young man standing near the entrance to the kitchen.
"Marcelo, I need a double espresso and cappuccino. I need to go tend to table 7." He turned back to the two of them. "Scusi, Spencer. I'll be back in a moment." He placed two menus on the counter in front of them before moving to a table where a young woman was sitting picking at a cornetto, staring off into space. Teagan watched as Leo knelt down beside her, speaking to her in gentle, soothing tones. The young woman burst into tears suddenly and nodded. Wow, what on earth did he say to her? Leo then stood up and strode off into the kitchen. Teagan turned towards Spencer.
"What's he doing? She looks really upset!"
"Leo has this weird way of knowing when someone's struggling or going through a difficult time. He's probably helping her out." Teagan tilted her head, studying the young woman as she sobbed, burying her head in her hands. Leo came out of the kitchen and handed the woman a piece of paper before escorting her towards a small office. Marcelo suddenly appeared with their drinks.
"Here you go," he said, flashing a row of extremely white teeth as he set the drinks on the table. "Have you decided on what to order?"
"Zeppoles," Teagan said with a grin, her Southern accent more pronounced than usual.
"I'll have a sacco….saccotini al cio…cioccolato," Spencer said, stumbling over the foreign words. Teagan stifled a giggle. My God, we sound so pathetic!
"Ooh! What's that?" she asked.
"It literally means 'little sack of chocolate'," Spencer stated.
"It's a chocolate filled pastry, basically," Marcelo explained. "Would you like that instead of zeppoles?"
"Yes, please," Teagan nodded. Marcelo grinned before walking back towards the kitchen.
"So," Teagan began, "Do you think that woman's okay?" Spencer peered over his shoulder towards Leo's office. He shrugged.
"I don't know," he replied.
"How do you know Leo has this weird way of helping people?" Teagan asked, taking a sip of her cappuccino. "Has he helped you out before?" Spencer nodded.
"Yeah. A few times," he said, his voice distant and clipped as he stared absentmindedly into his coffee cup. She frowned at him. So he doesn't want to talk about it right now. He'll tell me later.
The two of them continued to sip their coffees, their recent conversation replaying in Spencer's mind. He now found himself calculating how long he'd known Leo, amazed at the answer. 6 years, 6 months, and 30 days. Wow, time's flown. His first meeting with the man, still felt so fresh in his memory…
April 21, 2007:
Spencer shuffled into the small bistro and quickly settled at a table, watching as a deeply tanned Italian American man took an order from a patron. He decided to stop here after wandering around Fredericksburg for a few hours. The past case had been hell and he was beginning to crave. Badly. Maybe a good dose of caffeine will keep the cravings at bay. A plump woman with short brown hair was behind the counter, serving coffee to two teenagers who appeared to be on a date. The woman eyed him and gave him a small smile before turning back around to the coffee maker. He stared down at the blue tablecloth as the man approached him.
"Hello, sir. Welcome to Leo's Italian Bistro. What would you like to drink today?"
"An espresso, please," he stated, his voice hollow, as he skimmed through the menu that was placed before him. Nothing appealed to him but the coffee. Reid watched as the man made his way to the counter and began speaking to the woman, who was staring at him again, her head tilted to the side as if she were studying him. The man murmured something to the woman, causing her to swat playfully at him as he turned around to the espresso maker. She began muttering phrases in Italian as she stomped into the kitchen.
"Donna, sarai la mia morte!" the man exclaimed.
"Stai zitto! Tu mi ami!" the woman yelled. The man rolled his eyes as he wandered over to Reid's table with the espresso. Reid stared at the two of them, puzzled.
"Here you are sir," he said.
"Thanks," Reid replied, taking a sip of the bitter brew. The man left the table and began serving the other patrons. Reid began to study them when the plump woman appeared, carrying a very large sandwich.
"Here you go, dear," she said, placing a meatball sub in front of him.
"I didn't order a sandwich ma'am," he said, his voice raspy. He cleared his throat. What kind of place is this?
"I know you didn't, but you looked like you could use something to eat. You could stand to put a little meat on those bones, Tesoro," she stated. "I'm Belinda, by the way. Leo's wife. If you need anything, you just let me know." She reached over and patted his cheek gently. Reid rubbed his cheek after she left. Who exactly are these people? He found himself scratching at his chin again, frowning when he noticed the man eyeing him curiously from across the room. Eyes wide, he quickly dropped his hand under the table then, tugging on his shirt sleeve in an attempt to hide the evidence.
The smell of the sandwich wafted toward him and his stomach growled fiercely. I guess I was hungrier than I thought. He took a tentative bite, surprised at how good it actually was. The marinara sauce was tangy, but not overly sweet. It has to be homemade. And the bread and meatballs must be too. He began to scarf down the sandwich, looking around the bistro when he suddenly caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window. He dropped the sandwich in mid-bite, where it hit his plate with an audible thump.
He was pale. Ghostly pale. The dark circles under his eyes were even more pronounced than usual, and he cringed at how greasy and unkempt his hair looked. Examining himself further, he noticed his button-down shirt was untucked, and to his shock, horribly wrinkled. Just one more thing to add to his already disheveled and haggard appearance. My God. No wonder they keep staring at me and pestering me. I look like such a slob.
He looked up again, noticing the man eyeing him again as he cleared a table. Reid tugged at his shirt sleeve again and licked his lips nervously before looking down at his plate. A shadow cast over his table and he looked up at the older man, who was smiling gently at him.
"Come with me," the man stated. Reid blinked, unsure of how to answer. Did I do something wrong? Am I not supposed to be here? "I would like to talk to you. Some place with a little more privacy?" He gestured toward a closet-sized room that appeared to be an office.
Reid stared nervously around the bistro. Belinda was wiping down the countertop when she gave Reid a brief nod and a kind smile. He stood hesitantly before following behind the man.
"Sit, signore," the man stated, gesturing to a chair in front of his desk. He quickly closed the door behind him before sitting down at his desk across from Spencer. For a few moments, Reid stared at the man, perplexed.
"I know it is none of my business, signore," the man began. "I do not even know your name or anything about you really, for that matter, but I sense you are…struggling…with something. You are in pain. Am I correct?" Is it that obvious? Reid wrapped his arms around his waist protectively and shifted slightly in his seat as his eyes darted across the small room.
"Um," Spencer said shakily. "I really don't know what you're talking about." He blinked while he began to study the older man. He was dressed in a button down shirt with a tie, hidden beneath an apron, which was spattered with several grease stains. Even though they were in an office, the faint scent of coffee, garlic, and freshly baked bread still lingered.
The man leaned forward and steepled his fingers, his wedding band glinting in the glow of the fluorescent lights.
"I'm not judging you," the man reassured, giving him a kindly smile. "I'm Leo Silvestri, by the way." The profiler inside Reid told him that he could trust Leo. He seemed genuine. Reid visibly relaxed before taking a deep breath.
"I'm Spencer Reid."
"Nice to meet you, Spencer," Leo said, reaching across the table to shake his hand. Reid shook it tentatively. "I'm sorry if I seem overly invasive. But I'd like to help if I can…offer some advice."
"Advice?" he asked curiously. Leo nodded.
"You see, I've been in your shoes."
"What do you mean?" Reid furrowed his eyebrows.
"I've felt the same things you're feeling now. The tremors. The panic. The haunted stare, the general feeling of anger and despair," Leo stated, his dark brown eyes drifting over Reid. "You see, I'm a recovering alcoholic. I won't bore you with all of the details, but suffice to say, I did some things I regret. I hurt the ones I love the most and nearly lost this business in the process. I have not had a drink in fifteen years, but I know if I were to ever touch a bottle again, I'd be spiraling down that same path again. And it's a lonely path, Spencer. And if you continue down it, you will lose everything you hold dear."
Reid licked his lips, thinking about the things he could lose and had nearly lost. I've jeopardized my friendship with Emily…well, my friendships with everyone. I could lose my job if anyone found out. I wouldn't blame the others for turning away. But I can't…I don't want to live like this anymore.
"It's also damn near impossible to quit," Leo said, as if he were reading Spencer's mind. "It takes more than sheer willpower, I know that. You know what finally convinced me to stop?" Reid shook his head.
"Belinda," he answered. "I was ruining our marriage single-handedly with all of my drinking. And I just couldn't keep doing that to her. She's a good woman. Do you have someone like Belinda in your life, Spencer?" Reid shook his head again.
"Well, you're still young," Leo reassured. "You're what, 25? 26?"
"26," Reid answered.
"See? Very young. Too young to be going what you're going through. How long have you been struggling?" he asked, his dark brown eyes searching his. Spencer sighed.
"Around two months." Leo nodded thoughtfully.
"Well, you haven't been struggling for very long, but that doesn't make quitting any easier," Leo stated. Reid blinked. No, it won't. I've read all the literature. I'm fully aware of the long road ahead, but I need to get on that road first.
"I know," Reid answered. I'm always going to be an addict. I'm always going to have this lurking in the back of my mind. No amount of help will ever make that completely go away.
"You're going to need a support system. With that, you can do practically anything. You can't go through this alone, Spencer." Reid stared at his lap. I have the team, but there's no way I can ask them to do this. It's too much.
"I don't know," Reid sighed, shaking his head.
"I know it's scary admitting that you have a problem to people, especially those you're closest to. But if you're willing to admit your problem to a complete stranger, then you can admit your problem to your friends. And if they're good friends, they'll be supportive and more than willing to help you." He's right, of course. I know they'd help me. I just…don't know how to make the words form…I don't know how to ask them.
"I don't know how…" Reid trailed off, licking his lips. "To tell them." Leo sighed.
"It's hard," he admitted. "And it takes a lot of courage. I've always thought it was a sign of love when you trust the people you're closest with to see you at your worst. I'm sure they've already seen you at your best." Reid smiled shyly again while Leo reached inside his desk for a pen and began jotting down his name and telephone on a small piece of paper.
"Here," he said, handing Reid the slip of paper. "If you ever need me for anything, just call. Or feel free to come by here any time."
"Thank you," Reid replied.
After paying for his coffee and sandwich, even after Leo and Belinda insisted he didn't, Reid left the bistro mulling over Leo's advice on the way back to his apartment. I need to tell them…
The following Monday, Reid strode into the bullpen and headed towards Gideon's office, pausing at the doorframe. You can do this. He needs to know. He lifted his hand and knocked tentatively on the door.
"Door's open!" Gideon called. Reid nervously stepped inside. The older man was sitting at his desk, poring over a case file.
"Can I, um, talk to you for a second, Gideon?"
"Sure," the older profiler replied, looking up at Reid, his gaze falling over him. He knows. Reid sighed before taking a deep breath.
"I have a problem…and I need your help," he stated. Gideon smiled gently at him and nodded.
Paper rustled, bringing Reid out of his reverie. He stared over at Teagan, who was busy reading a newspaper that had been left on their table.
"I've always thought it was a sign of love when you trust the people you're closest with to see you at your worst. I'm sure they've already seen you at your best."
I do love her. Very much. And I'll tell her everything. Soon.
Teagan and Spencer exited Leo's only to wince as a blast of wind assaulted them. They pressed even closer to each other, hoping to find some warmth from the damp, cold weather.
"It looks like it's going to rain," Teagan said, observing the gray sky.
"The weather report said something about sleet."
"Oh, man! I was hoping to do some Christmas shopping before we went home! Hopefully we'll make it back to either my apartment or your apartment before we freeze to death. I swear the temperature dropped even more since we got to Leo's!" The rain began to fall then, in rough little drops, pelting their jackets.
"Come on, Sweetheart. My place is closer!" he shouted. She shrieked as the rain intensified, grabbing his hand as they darted patches of ice on the sidewalk. He pulled her under the awning of the entrance to his apartment building. She slipped on the slick concrete and fell against him, laughing. He gripped the underside of her forearms, righting her.
"I'm such a doofus!" she giggled, a huge smile on her face. He took in the water dripping from her thick lashes, her clothes and hair now completely drenched and disheveled. She was beautiful. He wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying her and pulling her closer to him. He cupped her face with his free hand, guiding her mouth to his. She shivered involuntarily and pulled him tightly against her, her frozen fingers clutching the slippery fabric of his jacket.
"We should probably go inside," he murmured, pulling back slightly. She nodded, her cheeks tinged pink from the cold. He grabbed her hand and they began to race up the stairs, sliding as their shoes squeaked on the wood. As he began rummaging in his jacket pocket for his keys, his drenched hair flopped into his eyes. Teagan reached up and brushed it back, her face just inches from his. He leaned down and kissed her again, reaching behind him for the doorknob. When the door opened, they both toppled to a heap on the floor. Smooth move. Teagan began giggling again, her face flushed, eyes slightly wild.
"Epic fail," she said, giggling so hard she could barely breathe. "Jesus!" She giggled harder, lying back against the hardwood floor, clearly in stitches. Spencer stepped over her and shut the door. "Hey! You have to admit. It was funny, Magic Man." Spencer smirked slightly. It is kind of funny.
"I guess so," he said with a slight chuckle. "Are you okay, Sweetheart?" He extended a hand to help her up.
"Yep. I'm fine. Actually more than fine. I'm pretty damn good actually. You?"
"Yeah, but I'm freezing!" He raced over to the thermostat and moved the knob to adjust the temperature.
"Can I commandeer your kitchen to make some coffee so we can warm up?"
"Of course," he answered. "I'm going to change."
"Okay." Teagan slipped off her jacket, shoes and soaked socks, her bare feet making contact with the cold floor. She padded into his kitchen and began to scoop the coffee into the coffee maker.
"Sweetheart?" Spencer called, stepping into the kitchen. "Here you go. I thought you'd want to get in something warm." He handed her a navy blue CalTech hoodie and a pair of gray sweatpants with a drawstring.
"Thanks, Spence," she said.
"No problem," he replied. "You can go change in the bathroom if you want. There's some towels on the counter."
"Thanks." She slipped into the bathroom and she heard him enter his bedroom to change. Grabbing a towel, Teagan mopped at her face and squeezed the rest of the water out of her hair. After toweling off, she slipped into his hoodie and sweatpants, relishing the way the warm fabric felt against her chilled skin. Spencer's scent still clung to the fabric, a delicious and cozy mixture of coffee, cologne, and old books. When was the last time Spencer wore this, anyway? The letters on the front of the hoodie were cracked and peeling away and there was a hole in the knee of the sweatpants. After pushing the sleeves up to her elbows and cuffing the pants several times, she threw the towel into the hamper nearby before giving her appearance one final inspection, combing her fingers through her hair quickly. She grabbed her soaked clothes from the floor and hung them over the shower curtain rack to dry. Upon exiting Spencer's bathroom, she spotted him sitting on his sofa, his TARDIS blanket covering his lap and two mugs of coffee sitting on the table in front of him. He patted the seat next to him, motioning for her to join him. She sat down and slid next to him, trying to get warmer.
"Do you want to watch TV for a little while until we warm up?" he asked, grabbing the remote.
"Yeah, sure." He began scrolling through the channels.
"There's a documentary on the Hope Diamond on the Smithsonian Channel."
"Ooh! Let's watch that!" She snuggled closer to him, her feet brushing against his.
"Yikes!" he shouted, jumping slightly. "Your feet are freezing!"
"I know. I was hoping you could warm them up," she said flirtatiously. Wordlessly, he stood up and strode into his bedroom. A few minutes later, he returned with a pair of mismatched socks. One sock had a pattern of glittered candy corn and the other contained an atrocious purple and orange argyle pattern.
"Here, Sweetheart," he said, handing her the pair of socks. "Your feet should be warm in no time." He sat back down next to her.
"Thanks," she said, smirking slightly as she slipped on the socks. Oh, Spencer.
"What?" he asked, noting her expression, his brow furrowed slightly. She slid closer to him and straddled his lap. He automatically tensed and became visibly uncomfortable, but only a little.
"Is this okay?" she asked worriedly. I don't want to do anything he doesn't want to do. He nodded, his eyes wide with surprise. She wrapped her legs around his waist, letting her feet rest between the small of his back and the couch. She leaned forward and kissed him, her fingers knotting in his hair, and he moaned softly as the kissing became more heated. She tugged gently on his bottom lip and he rocked his hips slightly against hers, causing her to make a small, needy sound against his mouth. Her hands moved from his hair to his chest and she began to trace small patterns with her fingertips. Testing his confidence, Spencer's hands moved from her waist and slowly began to raise her hoodie inch by inch, exploring gently until he reached the lace outline of her bra. She gasped suddenly, her breathing becoming more rapid as her thoughts began to wander, her eyes darting back and forth, unfocused.
"Dr. Reid never touched you like this, huh?" Skarsgard asked, running his hands over her breasts. He leaned forward and bit down on her neck, drawing blood and causing her to cry out in pain.
"Teagan?" Spencer said, his voice bringing her back to the present. "Teagan, Sweetheart, focus on my voice. He can't hurt you. It's just you and me. And you're okay." Slowly, she began to relax and let out a ragged sigh of relief when she finally focused on his face. She started sobbing and buried her face in his neck. "Shh. It's okay, Sweetheart."
"I'm sorry!" she wailed, tears streaming down her face.
"Stop apologizing. Just take some deep breaths." He pushed a strand of hair out of her eyes.
"But you can't even touch me without me freaking out!" she cried, a fresh torrent of tears falling down her cheeks.
"Sweetheart, I shouldn't have done that," he said. "I just got a little carried away."
"I shouldn't have provoked you," she said softly. "God, Spencer, I'm so messed up. I'm waiting for the day when you run out of patience and you either leave or kick me to the curb." She slid off his lap and began picking at a loose thread in the couch.
"Teagan," he began, tilting her chin upwards with his index finger. "Look at me." Her blue eyes met his, tears threatening to spill at any second.
"I'm not going anywhere," he stated, his hazel eyes gentle yet serious. "I'm here as long as you'll have me." She began to cry in earnest then, overwhelmed with emotion. Spencer licked his lips, unsure of what to do. He tentatively pulled her into his arms and held her until her sobbing subsided.
"Thank you," she murmured, her voice so small he barely heard her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead in response. "And I'm sorry for whatever the hell that was."
"Teagan, you don't have to apologize," he answered. "I shouldn't have done that."
"You had no idea it was going to cause me to think about…him. I didn't even know that." Spencer licked his lips again, pausing for a moment.
"You know I won't hurt you, right?" he asked gently.
"I know," she answered, resting her head against his chest. He tightened his arms around her. They sat in silence for a few minutes and Spencer continued to hold her, rubbing her back in small, soothing circles. She sighed, both in frustration and contentment. This is getting ridiculous. I don't know what I did to deserve you, Spencer. She nestled closer to him, enjoying being in his arms.
"Are you still cold?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Drink some coffee. I think I added enough sugar."
"I'm starting to warm up," she answered. "Thanks." She reached down for the Union Jack mug on the coffee table, and took a sip of the rich brew.
"It's good, then?" he asked.
"Perfect." She took another sip and wrapped her hands around the mug, savoring the warmth. "You know, when we go to Georgia, you're going to have to come with me to Blackbird. They have this delicious Crème Brûlée Latte. Oh my gosh! It's so good!"
"Blackbird?" he asked, reaching for his mug.
"Blackbird Coffee Shop. It's a little hole-in-the-wall place back home. It's better than Starbucks in my opinion." Spencer nodded, looking down into his mug.
"That sounds nice," he said absentmindedly.
"Okay. What's going on?" she asked, placing her coffee mug on the table and crossing her arms over her chest.
"What do you mean, 'What's going on'?" he asked.
"You're acting all weird. You know if something's wrong, you can just tell me." He looked down into his mug again before looking up at her.
"Um, it's just that Georgia doesn't really hold good memories for me," he stated softly.
"What do you mean?" she asked, drawing her knees up to her chest and folding her arms on top of them.
"Not all of my experiences in Georgia have been pleasant," he said, emphasizing his earlier statement. He furrowed his brow, thinking back to all the cases he had been to there. Teagan leaned forward and placed her hand over his.
"Well, this time, hopefully you'll have a better experience," she said sweetly. "I promise my dad will come around. It's usually Mom you have to worry about." Spencer licked his lips again, his fingers tracing the figures on his TARDIS blanket.
"I hope so," he said, a nervous tone to his voice. "But that's not what's been bothering me." Where do I even begin? He took a deep breath, rubbing his sweaty palms against the side of his pants. Teagan tilted her head to the side, curious. You have to tell her. She needs to know.
"About seven years ago, there was a case in Atlanta," he began, looking up at her. "A wealthy couple was killed in their home Super Bowl weekend. The UnSubs called 911 prior to committing the murders, one of them calling himself Raphael. At the crime scene there was a quote from Revelations. They were perverting the Bible to justify their murders." Teagan gasped, not liking where this seemed to be going.
"The team and I originally said there were three UnSubs, but eventually we figured out it was one UnSub. And we narrowed down the list of suspects—"
"Wait, one UnSub?"
"He had Dissociative Identity Disorder and was living out the personalities of his father, the archangel Raphael, and himself," he said softly, closing his eyes as the memories came rushing back to him.
"Jesus," she breathed. He drew another shaky breath before continuing.
"We narrowed down the list of suspects and Hotch sent J.J. and me out to interview one of the suspects, Tobias Hankel. I discovered that he was the UnSub, but he left the house and J.J. and I split up," he said, anxiously running a hand through his hair. I wish I had never done that. How could I have been so stupid? "She went to the barn; I went into the cornfield. And that's when Tobias ambushed me."
"Oh no," Teagan breathed, tightening her grip on his hand. He looked down at their intertwined hands. Her hand is so warm. Okay. She's right here. You can do this. Keep going.
"I, um, woke up in a shack. It was freezing. I don't ever think I've been that cold in my life," he said, a light shudder rippling through him as he remembered the bone-chilling February air. Teagan began rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. His voice began to tremble. "I was beaten and drugged for two days."
"Oh, Spence," she said softly. "I can't imagine…" She shook her head and wiped the tears that had gathered under her eyes. "How scared you must have been."
"I was terrified. I never knew what personality I would encounter. I would wake up once and Tobias would have taken on the personality of his father, Charles Hankel. And then I would wake up another time and it would be Tobias as himself." She scooted forward on the couch and cupped his cheek with her hand. He looked up at her then, his huge hazel eyes vulnerable and soft.
"I love you, you know that?" she asked, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He nodded before breathing a ragged sigh of relief.
"I've been wanting to tell you this for a while, but I wasn't sure how'd you react. I didn't want to scare you or worry you."
"Spencer," she groaned. "I'm not a child. I'm an adult. What you went through was much scarier than my ordeal, but I can still handle it. What did you think I was going to do? Run away?" He shrugged.
"There are things about me that I've always worried would scare people away. I know I'm not the easiest person to get close to and—"
"That's because you won't let anybody get close to you!" she exclaimed. "I want to, but you won't let me. What are you so afraid of?"
"I'm not," he stated.
"Yes, you are," she said. "And if you don't let me get close to you, we can't have a relationship because that means you don't trust me." He stared at her in shock. She can't honestly think that. Can she?
"I do trust you," he said, his voice eerily soft. "Why do you think I just told you about one of the most horrifying experiences of my life? What do you want from me?" Is this…a fight? Are we fighting? I was just comforting her two minutes ago! What the…?
"I want you to trust me. I want you to tell me things. I want to be your confidant. I'm your girlfriend, for crying out loud!" He mashed his lips together in a hard line defiantly and glared at her.
"Gee, that's really funny coming from you," he snapped, letting out a small sardonic chuckle.
"What are you talking about?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Because I want the same thing from you," he hissed. How dare he! I do trust him!
"I do trust you, Spencer, and I do tell you things," she replied, her voice faltering.
"No, you don't. I'm a profiler, Teagan. Did you really think that I wouldn't be able to figure out when you're hiding things from me?"
"Like what?" she challenged, her temper flaring.
"I know you've had more panic attacks and nightmares than you've told me or Lily, or Garcia. You're not eating and then lying about it and—"
"I didn't know I had to discuss my eating habits with you," she spat. "Besides, it's none of your damn business anyway." He groaned in frustration.
"No, knowing how often you eat is not my business, but you've lost what, fifteen pounds in two months? It's not healthy."
"Well, thank you for being so concerned," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. "I'll alert you the next time I eat a sandwich."
"Teagan, will you just stop?" he groaned. "I know what it's like. I know what you're going through. I've been there. It seems…better to just keep things from the people who care about you, and to keep them to yourself. But there will come a time when you have to talk to someone and you'll realize that it's not healthy to keep all of these things bottled up inside. It's easier to talk about it." She didn't say anything, just stared at him, biting her lower lip slightly.
"Spencer," she began, shaking her head. "It's not that simple. You're always gone."
"I can't control that. But weren't you aware of what my job entailed when you started dating me? I thought you figured that out on the first date."
"I did. I just meant that I don't always know the appropriate time to discuss things with you as a result. You could be gone in five minutes." She looked down at her lap. "Besides, you've got enough to worry about at work, you don't need to be worrying about me, too."
"That's not true," he said firmly, tilting her chin upwards, his brown eyes serious. "You'll always come first, serial killers and psychopaths be damned."
"I also know there's always a possibility that you won't come back. Do you know how scared I was when I heard about the FBI agents nearly being bombed in the police station in Chicago?" He licked his lips nervously, unsure of how to respond.
"Teagan, I can't promise that I won't always be in danger. And I can't promise that I can tell you everything about my job, but I do promise to always be there for you when you need me. And I don't want you to ever feel like you can't tell me something." She smiled gently. "Because that's what I'm here for." He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them lightly.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"I'm sorry, Sweetheart. I wasn't meaning to be overly invasive or pushy," he said. "But I want you to understand that I know how you feel."
"I'm sorry, too, Spencer. I'll start trying to be more honest with you about things," she stated. Jesus Christ. He is observant. I don't think I'll ever be able to keep something from him for long. "As long as you promise to do the same."
"I promise," he answered. She slid closer to him on the couch and rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. You need to start taking your own advice. She deserves your trust, too. You need to tell her everything.
I will. I'll tell her the rest of the story. Someday. Maybe. He looked down at Teagan curled in his arms. I just hope she can forgive me when I do.
"I love you, Magic Man," she murmured, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
"I love you, too, Sweetheart," he replied. She snuggled closer to him, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence as they listened to the soft sounds of the TV.
Teagan zipped up her suitcase before sitting on the bed and sighing. Spencer, McDuffie, and me on a car ride for 8 hours. This should be interesting.
"Teags, you forgot your boots," Lily stated, carrying them into the bedroom.
"Thanks," she answered, taking them from her and placing them in the suitcase. "I think that's everything."
"You sure?"
"Yes. I double and triple checked the list," she stated.
"Okay. What time are you leaving again?"
"Around 10:30. What time is it now?" she asked, whipping around to glance at her alarm clock. 9:45. "I've still got a little while. I'll start loading the car around 10:15." Lily nodded before turning around to go back to her room. Teagan's phone rang suddenly and she rushed to answer it. "Hello?"
"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry," Spencer said in a rush.
"You have a case," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Yes. I have to go to St. Louis for a few days."
"Okay. Do you still think you'll be able to go to Georgia with me?"
"I have no idea right now," he replied. "Why don't you go on ahead and spend time with your family? I'll come down as soon as the case is over."
"No, I'll wait on you," Teagan replied.
"Teagan," he urged. "I don't know how long I'll be."
"I'll wait. I'm sure you won't be that long."
"If you're sure…" he said hesitantly.
"I'm sure, Spencer. I'll see you when you get back."
"Okay, Sweetheart. I'll call you when I can. Love you."
"Love you too." She pressed the "End" button on her phone. Ugh. These stupid cases. Is it always going to be like this?
"Who was that?" Lily called from her bedroom.
"Spencer," Teagan replied, scooting across the hall into Lily's room.
"What'd he want?"
"He can't come right now. He has a case. He wants me to go on without him."
"I thought you said he was off this week," Lily stated, placing her hand on her hips.
"I did. Apparently this case is huge. He wouldn't go in if some other team could solve it," Teagan stated, rubbing her arm absentmindedly.
"So he's not coming?" Lily asked.
"Not today, at least. He may come later in the week."
"Oh. Well, what are you going to do?" Lily asked curiously, raising her eyebrows.
"Gonna call Mom and tell her I'm coming down later in the week," Teagan said, shrugging her shoulders simply. "It's silly to take two cars down there anyway."
"You just want some snuggle time with your honey!" Lily shot her a teasing grin.
"Shut up!" she exclaimed with a giggle, hurrying back into her room to call her mother.
"Mom?"
"Hello, Baby! How are you? Are you and Spencer leaving now?"
"About that," she began, biting her lip. "Spencer's got a case, so I'm just going to wait for him to finish and we'll be down then. It usually only takes a couple of days, depending on how bad it is." Her mom sighed loudly on the other line.
"Why can't he just come down by himself?"
"He can, but it's silly to take two cars, Mom. Hopefully, I should be down no later than Wednesday night." She drummed her fingers impatiently against her suitcase, gazing down at the black leopard spots dotted across the purple background. She stopped once her eyes began to cross, her mom's voice bringing her back to attention.
"If not, you'll just miss out on Thanksgiving with your family to be with some boy?" Melanie snapped.
"He's not just 'some boy', Mom," she retorted, crossing her free arm across her chest. She paused for a moment. "I love him." She winced slightly, fearing her mother's reaction.
"Please! You've known him, what? Three months?"
"Three and a half," Teagan corrected. "Why is that important? I thought you liked Spencer."
"He's nice," Melanie said. "But don't you think y'all are both moving just a little too fast? I think your father's right. I just don't see the relationship working."
"Not you too!" Teagan huffed. "I can't believe this!"
"Honey, you don't have a lot of dating experience and he did save your life, after all. I know you feel like you owe him something, but it was his job to save you." Teagan closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall.
"It's not like that at all, Mom!" she exclaimed. "Not at all. I had been seeing Spencer for about a month before all of this crap happened. And I know three and a half months isn't a long time to fall in love, but I did. And I'm happy."
"Well," Melanie sighed again. "I can't say that I'm fond of this relationship, and as much as I want you to be happy, I just can't help but feel that you're jumping into this with some guy you barely know!"
"Mom," Teagan said firmly, tapping her head lightly against the wall in exasperation. "I'm not jumping into anything. And the last time I checked, there wasn't any specified time that determines when two people are in love."
"Okay then," her mother answered. "As long as you're happy." I know she's not convinced.
"I am," Teagan said. "I'll talk to you soon, okay? And hopefully, I'll see you on Wednesday." After the two of them said their goodbyes, Teagan groaned in frustration. Well, this holiday's starting off on a great note.
Teagan stirred a pot of vegetable soup on the stove absentmindedly while she watched the news. Lily was further down the counter mixing some cornbread batter.
"Teags, look! Spencer's on T.V.!" Lily exclaimed suddenly, dropping her spoon in the process.
"What?" she asked. "Are you kidding me?" Sure enough, Spencer and J.J. were on the screen giving a press conference. "Turn it up a little." Lily grabbed the remote.
"Although we only know of one other abduction-murder fifteen years ago, he may have been overseas…incarcerated, or incapacitated during that time," J.J. stated seriously to the cameras facing her.
"So families with young sons should remain vigilant and we ask if anybody saw Andy Taffert late at night or at any time with someone fitting our suspect's description, please contact the St. Louis FBI immediately," Spencer stated. "Thank you."
"Whoa! What's been going on?" Lily asked as the screen flashed back to the newscaster.
"A ten year old boy named Andrew Taffert from St. Louis was abducted from his home Monday morning. And there's speculation that the mother had something to do with it, or maybe even the father, according to the media, but there's really nothing to go on."
"God that sucks. I can't even imagine what that poor family's going through. And with Thanksgiving coming up…" Lily trailed off, shaking her head.
"That's what Spencer's team is there for. They make connections and try to help the local P.D. find out who did it."
"But I thought they studied human behavior."
"Yeah, they make a profile of the person they're looking for. That's what he and J.J. were trying to explain. What type of offender the public needs to be on the lookout for."
"Oh," Lily replied, nodding. "Interesting. Spencer looked really good on TV, by the way."
"Um, what are you trying to say?" Teagan teased, giggling. "You have a boyfriend. Lay off mine. But you're right, he did look good. But he always does."
"I wouldn't go that far," Lily stated with a wink. "Nah, Spencer's all right. I don't think I could his job, though."
"Oh, definitely not. His team hunts some scary folks. And they deal with death day in and day out. Just…no." Teagan shook her head.
"Agreed."
"So what time are you and Jared leaving in the morning?" Teagan asked, hastily trying to change the subject to a brighter topic.
"Probably around 9."
"Jeez! That's early!"
"I know, but I wanted to swing by and see my folks before going down to Florida," she answered, giving the cornbread batter a final stir.
"Are your parents mad you're not spending Thanksgiving with them?"
"Not really," Lily said, spooning the cornbread batter into muffin tins. "How'd your Mom take it when you told her you weren't coming until Spencer got finished with his case?"
"Not good. She said that she understood why I was so attracted to Spencer, but she didn't understand why I was still dating him."
"What?" Lily asked incredulously. "I thought she liked Spencer."
"Oh, she does. She is so grateful to him for saving my life, but she doesn't think I should be jumping into a relationship with a guy I barely know."
"You're not jumping," Lily reassured. "You might be a little clingy, but not jumping."
"Am I clingy?" Teagan asked. "Really?"
"A little," she said hesitantly, scrunching her nose. "But it's the newness of the relationship, that's all. It'll wear off after a while." She placed the muffins in the oven.
"Now I feel bad. I didn't realize…" she said, shaking her head.
"It's not that bad, Teags. Forget I said anything.
Try as she might, Teagan couldn't shake the nagging feeling. Ignore her. She's just being silly. I'm not clingy. I'm not.
Reid and Blake walked around the corner towards the butcher shop, taking in the area. Fairly typical. Convenience store on the corner, a Laundromat across the street…
"This is where a pimp works?" he asked dubiously, eyeing the St. Lois Quality Meat Shop sign above him. Unbelievable. But maybe I shouldn't be so surprised. Emily's brownstone was once owned by a gigolo, after all.
"According to our local source," Blake began. "Of all the pimps in town, this is the guy known for imported girls." Reid stared at the sign again. Seriously? A meat shop? Little 'on the nose' isn't it?"
The pair of agents stepped inside to interview the so-called "pimp". The shop was permeated with the stink of stale cigarette smoke and fresh meat. Spencer's nose crinkled slightly in disgust.
"Can I help you?" a man asked, who was sitting at a small card table, laden with a newspaper, a deck of cards, a pack of cigarettes and an ashtray.
Blake and Reid flashed their badges as they got confirmation that this was the man was the one they wanted to talk to. His name was Leon Burns. Reid studied the man's appearance, taking in the man's dirty yellow track suit.
"We need to ask you some questions," Reid stated.
"Sure," Leon replied. "Go right ahead." Blake pulled out her phone then. She proceeded to play a recording of women speaking, watching as Leon's face twisted in confusion.
"Do you know who she is?" Blake asked, shrugging her shoulders.
"She's speaking Brazilian Portuguese, if that helps jog your memory," Reid added, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"What am I? Rosetta Stone?" Leon replied, throwing an arm over the back of his chair. Reid narrowed his eyes at him, clearly irritated by the man's cockiness. He knows something. He's just not saying. He turned his gaze back to Blake.
"We have reason to believe she's a prostitute. Any of your girls, maybe from fifteen years back, speak Portuguese?"
"I don't know who sent you guys," Leon began, with a slight roll of his eyes. "But you've obviously got the wrong idea about me. As you can plainly see, I'm a purveyor of fine meats." He gestured towards the counter laden with various types of meat. Reid shuddered as he stared at the meats, trying to shake the horrible thoughts of just what kind of pain these women might have endured from his mind.
"I don't know Leon, we were told you run a pretty lucrative business on the side," Reid stated. Leon raised his eyebrows.
"You're flattering me. I make a mean barbecue sauce, but I don't make much off of it."
"You know, I find it interesting you haven't asked what any of this is about," Blake said with a shake of her head.
"I have a dreadful lack of curiosity," Leon replied. Are you kidding me? Reid certainly wasn't known to be a violent man, but at that moment, he was doing everything in his power to keep from punching this creep.
"Well, let me fill you in," Blake snapped. "A child was murdered yesterday and at his home they found blood on his front door. Pig's blood." They both watched as Leon's face fell slightly. He snuck a glance at Blake, impressed. Good thinking, Blake. Let's have some fun with this guy.
"You know what? It actually just occurred to me, but I feel like this is the sort of shop where you could find a lot of pig's blood," Reid stated, nodding.
"Oh, you're right!" Blake agreed.
"We're not saying you had anything to do with this Leon, but we are saying that the FBI is desperate for any leads and it would be a shame if we had to shut your shop down to collect DNA samples to try to identify the source of that pig's blood," Reid said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He focused his intense gaze on the guy, too, to further drive home that he would make good on his threat. Leon rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Now, look. I don't know nothin' about blood on a door, but I think I do remember something about, uh, a couple of Brazilian girls who used to work for uh, an acquaintance of mine."
"What were their names?" Reid asked.
Leon then proceeded to give them the names, only to tense up for a moment when Blake asked further about one of the girls, a woman named Luisa.
"That bitch? She totally betrayed my buddy." Reid raised his eyebrows. Charming. He clearly has some issues with her. Fortunately, for Reid, he knew Leon's jilted attitude made him more susceptible to talking.
"Did she walk out on him?"
"She married his best customer." Reid and Blake exchanged a quick glance. Jackpot.
"Well, thank you for your time, Leon," Blake said, moving towards the door.
"Yes, thank you for your cooperation," Reid added. Leon muttered something and waved dismissively towards them.
"Can you believe that guy?" Blake asked as soon as they stepped outside. Reid just shook his head in disbelief as he reached for his phone.
"We need to call Hotch and tell him what we just discovered."
Blake sat in the back of the jet, watching Reid as he read, his index finger running across the page of a thick book at rapid speed. He saved my life today. She was still having trouble comprehending it. How can he sit there and be so calm? How can I sit here so calmly? If he hadn't shown up when he had, I'd be… She shuddered at the thought. How do I even begin to thank him? He looked up at her and smiled gently before returning to his book.
Maybe I should just tell him. I'm a linguist, after all, words are how we prefer to communicate. She stood up, walking over to claim the seat directly across from him. He placed his book down on the table, making a mental note of where he stopped, before looking up at her again.
"Thank you," she said softly. Reid furrowed his brow in confusion.
"For what?"
"For saving my life." Reid shook his head.
"You would have done the same for me," he stated with a shrug. Blake nodded in agreement.
"Well, that's true," she said with a small smile. "But I'm still thanking you anyway." She frowned when he didn't return her smile. "You okay, Reid?"
"I'm fine." She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. Reid sighed and licked his lips nervously before leaning forward.
"You know, I should probably feel bad about killing him, but I really don't," he stated softly. He suddenly found himself in a moment of déjà vu, as an eerily similar conversation with Gideon from years ago flashed through his memory. I should feel something. I killed a man. "Do you ever feel like this job causes you to lose parts of yourself?" Blake tapped her chin thoughtfully for a moment.
"Sometimes," she answered. "But let me ask you something. If my back wasn't turned, if you had a chance to talk him down instead of shooting him, would you have done that?"
"Absolutely," he answered. "But—"
"But nothing. The fact is, if given the chance, you'll always try to end things peacefully. You can always be trusted to do what's logical. You weren't given much choice here." She gently pushed his book down, meeting his gaze. "But you saved my life. And the lives of others. I can't tell you how or what you should feel, that's for you to decide. But I can tell you that I'm very proud of you." Reid smiled shyly, looking down at his lap.
"Thanks, Alex."
"Any time, Reid. What are you reading?" she asked, glancing over at the thick book. Is that in Russian? Or Czech?
"A collection of short stories by Anton Chekhov," he stated.
"Is it in Russian?" she asked. Reid nodded. She stifled a chuckle. Why doesn't that surprise me?
"I've always liked his short stories," he stated. "Did you know he began writing short stories to pay for medical school?"
"No, I didn't," she answered. "That's really interesting! Wasn't he awarded the Pushkin Prize for his short stories?"
"Yes, he was." She glanced over at his open messenger bag in the seat beside him where a copy of Healing Together: A Couple's Guide to Coping with Trauma and Post-Traumatic Stress was peeking out.
"Are you and Teagan still planning on going to Georgia together? Or has she already left?"
"No, she hasn't left yet. We're planning on going later this morning, actually. As soon as we get settled. Hotch said not to worry about the paperwork until next week." He paused for a moment, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt sleeve. "Are you still going to see James?"
"Yes, I had to cancel my flight. I'm just going to drive to Boston tonight."
"Be careful," he said, a genuine tone of concern in his voice. "It's supposed to snow some more tonight."
"I will. The drive will probably help clear my head a bit." Reid nodded. This case had been difficult for all of them. Cases involving children are always the worst. I always wind up seeing Riley as a result.
"I hope it will. Cases involving children are never easy."
"No, they're not," she answered, looking out the window. He stared curiously at her and she caught his gaze. "I think I'm going to get some sleep."
"I probably should too. I have a long trip ahead of me," he answered. She smiled gently at him before closing her eyes. Reid returned to his book and read a few more short stories before closing his eyes as well and drifting into a peaceful slumber.
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