"Are you sure it's safe for you to be there alone?"
"I'm in a police station," said Spencer. He held the phone between his shoulder and ear and carefully marked a sentence in the document he was reading. "There are officers on duty right now, I can't be any safer."
Anthea sighed. "Please tell me you have your gun on you at all times."
"Considering the fact that this unsub is killing people after dragging them into abandoned alleyways to make it look like a mugging gone wrong, I don't think having a gun on me will help."
"You're making fun of me."
"I'm not," Spencer smiled and dropped his pen, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "I really miss you."
He could practically hear her smile at his words. "You better come back to me in one piece then."
"I will," he leaned back in his chair. "You should get some sleep. It's past midnight."
"I don't mind staying awake."
Spencer shook his head and picked up his pen again. "You should sleep. Aren't you teaching Derrida tomorrow?"
Anthea groaned. "You talked me into taking that freshmen theory class!"
"Because you said you wanted to teach it!"
"It's at eight in the morning! I'd rather sleep, believe me."
"No, you wouldn't," Spencer looked up to see Morgan walk into the room, coffee in hand, and held up one finger. "I have to go now. I'll call you tomorrow afternoon."
"Just text me in the morning."
"Anthea, I just told you I'm –"
"Spencer!"
"Okay, I –" he didn't get to complete his sentence, because Morgan had swiped his phone from his hand and was already holding it up to his own ear, grinning wickedly.
"Good afternoon, sunshine," he crooned into the phone, his grin threatening to split his face at whatever Anthea replied. Spencer smiled at his friend's antics, and Morgan winked before putting the phone on speaker, setting it on the table between them. "Reid's been treating you good or do I need to have a talk with him?"
"Hello, Derek," Anthea sounded like she was trying not to laugh. "I appreciate your concern but he's great. How're Savannah and the baby?"
"Doing great, though we'd love for you to come and visit sometime," Morgan gave Reid a pointed look. "How about I hook her up with your number and we can have dinner when this case is over?"
"That sounds nice," Anthea definitely sounded amused now. "Are you forcing Spencer to socialise with me in public so you can tease him about it later?"
"Damn, you're good," grinning, Morgan got up from his seat. "Expect an invite by tomorrow, sunshine. See you later."
"Bye, Derek, stay safe."
Spencer took the phone back and rolled his eyes as he pressed it to his ear again. "Sorry about that."
"You know I don't mind," said Anthea easily. "Get back to work, I'll speak to you tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow is great. Bye."
"Stay safe, Spencer."
!
"Hi, is this Dr. Anthea Grayson?"
"Yes, who is this?" Anthea frowned and glanced at her phone screen again, confirming that she didn't know the number that was calling her.
"This is Penelope Garcia, I'm –"
"I remember," cut in Anthea. "Hi, Penelope."
"I wish I could say this was a social call," Garcia sounded on edge. "I'm calling because of Reid."
Anthea froze. "What happened?" her voice came out slightly breathless.
Penelope let out an audible sigh. "Reid's been in an accident, he's in recovery now but his file said to contact you in case of –"
"Which hospital?" interrupted Anthea. She was already gathering her car keys and bag off her desk, ignoring the piles of books and papers she had been planning to take back over the weekend.
"He's not in DC, Anthea, are you sure –"
"I need to be there, Penelope," interrupted Anthea. "Which hospital?"
Penelope gave her the name of the hospital and said she'd send a car to pick her up from the airport. Anthea didn't bother to thank her and hung up, her high heels clicking against the marble floor of the reception as she dashed out of her office and ran for the parking lot.
!
She didn't have to look for long: in the foyer of the hospital stood a pretty blonde woman almost a head shorter than her. Anthea recognized her immediately.
"JJ?"
The woman looked up from her phone screen and her eyes lit up in understanding. "Anthea?"
"Yeah," Anthea tucked her loose hair behind her ears hastily and offered her a small smile.
"I didn't realize you were his emergency contact," JJ closed the distance between them and quickly pulled Anthea in for a hug. "Don't worry," she soothed as she pulled back. "He's being taken care of."
Anthea tried to smile again but couldn't. "Is he okay?"
JJ nodded and indicated for her to follow her down the hall. "He's in recovery, he took a bullet to his leg and doctors were afraid it might trigger his old injury, but it didn't. He's still asleep, but you can wait inside his room if you want."
"I'd like that," said Anthea quietly.
"Were you at work?" her attempt at small talk should have annoyed Anthea, but it didn't. She appreciated it and smiled.
"Yeah, I was grading papers. Mid-terms just ended."
"Must be tough. I can barely handle kindergarten homework."
Anthea giggled. "If I had one of my own I'd probably feel the same way."
JJ smiled, and they talked idly about the weather and traffic as they walked through corridors and past wards full of people. Anthea tried not to look inside. Finally, they stopped outside a room with the door open, and she made out the figure of a tall man in a suit sitting in the waiting chair. "May I?"
"Of course," JJ gestured for her to go inside first, and the man in the suit stood up. Anthea recognized him immediately.
"Hi, Hotch," said Anthea. She gave him a small smile and saw that his stoic expression cracked.
He squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay," her eyes drifted to the bed, but she carefully kept them fixed on Spencer's feet. His socks were purple. "How is he?"
"Doctors say he should be coming to any minute now," said Hotch. He indicated the seat he had just vacated and moved towards the exit. "We'll come and check on him later, if that's alright?"
"No problem," Anthea sank into the plastic chair and gave the two agents a small smile. When they were out of sight, she bit her lip and finally looked down.
Spencer had always warned her she may get a call one day like the one she had gotten that afternoon. If she remembered right, it had been on their third date. They had just come back from an art exhibition of one of her favourite artists, and Spencer had remarked that his depictions of war zones were strangely beautiful. She had replied that they were, and had shyly squeezed his hand, pointing out that she was sure he saw worse on a daily basis. Spencer had smiled bitterly and told her, quietly, that it was possible there would come a point when she would be forced to deal with the aftermaths of decisions he would have to make in the field. Anthea had rolled her eyes and said she had grown up accustomed to the idea that the person she loved most in the world could die saving other people: nothing he could say or do would make her change her mind. Spencer had smiled, kissed her cheek and dropped her home without a word.
Now, as she watched him lying in the hospital bed with an IV hooked to his arm and a nasty cut across his lip, she could feel tears prick at the corners of her eyes. Hastily, she blinked them away and sat down in the chair, dropping her bag onto the floor and fishing out her phone from her coat pocket. She sent a text to her neighbour, instructing her to feed her dog and keep the spare key with her. Next, she sent a formal email to her head of department, calling in sick for the next week. By the time she was done, Spencer was stirring.
His expression was confused when his eyes fell on her. Anthea offered him a watery smile. "Hey."
"Hi," his voice was hoarse. Anthea helped him sit up and offered him the cup of water that sat on his bedside, which he accepted gratefully. She took the empty cup from his hands when he was done and put it back onto the table, hesitating before lightly brushing her fingers over his chapped lips. The cut was mostly healed, but still red. He winced.
"Sorry," murmured Anthea. She withdrew her hand, only to have Spencer catch it in his own. She couldn't help the tears that leaked out of her eyes at his gesture, which made him frown. However, before he could speak, there was a sharp knock on the door and JJ and Hotch entered the room, along with Morgan, Tara and Rossi. Anthea gently tried to slip her hand out of Spencer's, only to have him hold it tighter.
"You doing okay, kid?" asked Morgan. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.
"Fine," Spencer cleared his throat. "Did we get him?"
"Just finished the interrogation," said Tara. She threw Anthea a quick smile, and turned back to Spencer. "You going to be okay, doc?"
"He's going to be fine," confirmed Hotch. "The doctors want to keep you for the weekend, Reid, and I told them about your medication, but other than that you're free to go."
"Thanks, Hotch," Spencer winced as he tried to sit up, and Anthea attempted to help him, but he wouldn't let go of her hand so her assistance was minimal.
"We'll let you rest," said Rossi quietly. As everyone gathered around the bed to say goodbye to Spencer, Rossi pulled Anthea aside. "Garcia said she's programmed our numbers into your phone, if you need anything just give us a call. I'm assuming you'll spend the night?" she nodded. "I'll have Hotch tell someone to collect anything you need from your house, just send us a list when you're ready."
Anthea was about to protest, but JJ heard the ending of their conversation and appeared next to her, smiling softly. "Don't worry about it, Anthea, we want to help. Send me a list of anything you want, okay? Toiletries, food, anything."
"Okay," sighed Anthea. She accepted hugs from both women and Morgan and nods from Rossi and Hotch before the door closed and she was finally alone with Spencer.
"Sorry," it was the first thing he said as soon as she turned to face him. He looked like he was in pain, but he remained sitting. "I never wanted you to get a call like that."
Anthea sat down at the edge of his bed carefully and brushed his hair out of his eyes. She offered him a small smile. "As long as you're okay, I don't care. Don't worry about it."
"Did Garcia –"
"She told me you were okay when she called, I didn't freak out too much," assured Anthea. "I'm glad she called me, though. I would have been really worried if I turned on the news and you were on TV."
"That's why I tell you not to watch the news," said Spencer. He smiled and raised a hand, stroking her cheek gently. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," Anthea held the hand that rested against her face and sighed quietly. "I'm going to send that list to JJ and call Elizabeth to look after Zeus for the weekend."
"You're staying?"
Anthea gave him a weary look. "Of course I am, Spencer. You got shot. I'm not leaving your side."
"You'll get a backache sleeping in that chair."
"Then I won't sleep," she shrugged and kissed his cheek quickly. "I'll be right back."
When she returned to the room, a nurse was arguing with Spencer, a needle poised over the IV bag. As soon as she walked in, Spencer stopped talking, but the nurse didn't.
"You need the morphine, Dr. Reid, you won't be able to sleep at night without it," she turned around as Anthea walked in and gave her a helpless look. "Maybe you can convince him," she gestured to Spencer helplessly. "He doesn't want medication."
Anthea blinked and tried to catch Spencer's eye, but he was studiously looking away from her. She bit her lip. "I'll call you back in a few minutes," she said to the nurse, who shrugged and walked out of the room. Anthea sat down on the edge of the bed again. "Hey."
"I don't need morphine," said Spencer, keeping his gaze fixed on his hands. "I'm fine."
"Okay," murmured Anthea. She squeezed his hand and walked out of the room, poking her head out and shaking her head at the nurse who was giving her questioning looks. When she came back, Spencer was trying to lie down. "Spencer…" Anthea sighed and helped him lay down again, biting her lip when he groaned in pain. "Are you sure?" he nodded slightly. Anthea sighed and kissed his forehead, allowing him to grasp her hand and squeeze it, hard. "Is there something I should know?" she tried again.
"Yes," he sighed. "I just – not right now, okay? I should have told you before, but I just –"
"Stop," she hushed him and kissed his hand. "I'm just glad you're safe, okay? We can talk about anything you want later."
Spencer didn't want to delay it anymore, not really, but there was a voice in the back of his mind reminding him that once he came clean, Anthea would have every right to walk out of his life and never look back. He wasn't ready for that. He wanted her around all the time, and he needed her, specially right now. Selfishly, he tightened his grip on her hand. "Later," he agreed quietly. Anthea smiled. He couldn't bring himself to smile back.
