Left on a bit of a cliff hanger last chapter. Apologies for that but I think you guys will enjoy this chapter!

Thanks for reading and reviewing! I love to read your thoughts on the chapter!

Words: 3,408

"Robin?" Spencer questions into the phone immediately as he turns the corner into a quiet hall.

"Uh, no," A familiar voice that is not his girlfriend's answers, only confusing the agent even more.

"Mandy?" Reid questions, shaking his head as he opens his mouth to ask why she was calling him from Robin's phone.

"Spencer," Mandy cuts him off before he can, her voice sounding worried and a little frantic. "Robin was arrested."

Spencer's voice becomes caught in this throat when those words hit him. What? He can't say it aloud, can barely even think it. That was the last thing he ever imagined hearing. How? Who? What?

"There was a knock on the door and the next thing I know the cops are leading her away in handcuffs." Mandy continues only a moment later, unwilling to wait for the man on the other end of the phone to speak.

Mind snapping back, Reid finally finds enough of his voice to ask. "Do you know the charges?"

"Murder."

The information once again almost knocks Spencer off his feet. He doesn't believe it, obviously, there's been a mistake. But Robin was still arrested. "I'm at the apartment, she left her phone, I didn't know what else to do."

"No, you did the right thing calling me." Spencer manages to assure her, closing his eyes as he tries to wrap his mind around what's happening. Clearing his throat, Reid gathers all the information he can from the woman before hanging up his phone.

Claustrophobia had never been a problem for Robin. Small spaces hadn't bothered her, she often hid in the chest at the end of her parent's bed when she played hide and seek as a child. But she could easily push the top off of her, get out. Small spaces didn't bother her, but being trapped did.

Her wrists hurt from where the metal cuffs were digging into them. Overkill if you asked her. She was already locked in this room. What was she, 5'5 and a hundred pounds, going to do locked in a police interrogation room that needed to be stopped by tying her to the table.

The shock that came with being arrested for murder was still there, but confusion and anger had started to overpower that feeling. No one has told her anything than the charges and her rights before throwing her in this room and leaving her. Telling the truth and having no one believe you is one of her biggest pet peeves.

She knows the police, whoever was in charge of this whole thing, had plenty of time to come talk to her. Maybe they wanted to make her nervous, maybe she'd confess. It's stupid, she didn't even do anything. So, instead, she sits here, calm as she can be. It was harder than it looked, her jaw was tight and it was a conscious move to keep her breathing even.

Having a lawyer was her right, not that anyone had asked her, or given her a phone call, but when or if they did, she'd refuse. Robin felt that would only make her look more guilty and she hadn't done anything wrong. Not legally anyway. Well, not in many years. A phone call would be nice, though. She hated to think it, felt too much like she would be using him, but her boyfriend was an FBI agent after all.

A headache builds behind her eyes. Robin nearly lifts her hands to rub at her face, maybe block out the overly bright light in the room but stops herself when she remembers her hands locked to the table. Again, she thinks, what can she do that they need to handcuff her?

When the door finally opens, Robin looks up at the burly man entering. He was one of the ones who arrested her. Great, she can't wait to interact with his nice personality again.

The bolding bad plops a fine on the table in front of her. It makes a loud slap sound and Robin prides herself when she doesn't flinch. Instead, her eyes hold his gaze steadily. He looks annoyed by that but covers it quickly enough as he takes a seat.

"You know why you're here," He states while opening the file but he lifts it in a way that she can't see it's contents.

"No, I really don't," Robin tells him in a bored voice. Screw this and screw these people. She didn't do anything and they have no right to hold her. She opens her mouth to inform this man of that just when there's a muffled ruckus outside the door.

"The hell?" The heavy man mutters to himself. He was going to ignore the noise but when it only increases in volume, he pushes from his seat and walks to the door.

Sitting straighter in her seat, Robin tries to peer around him to see what's going on. She sighs in relief when she catches sight of ahead of familiar brown hair. Mandy must have called him. Bless that woman.

The man, Robin doesn't remember his name or if he even gave it, leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. The young woman slumps back into her chair. Her stomach gives an impatient churn after a few minutes pass. She drums her nails on the metal table.

Just when Robin is starting to think maybe she had seen wrong, the door opens and her head snaps up. She hadn't seen wrong. Spencer enters the room, walking towards her with handcuff keys. He unlocks them and frees her without a word but as soon as she's on her feet, he turns to her.

"Are you okay?" He asks urgently, hands cupping her cheeks while his gaze shifts over her as if looking for injuries.

"I'm fine but I don't know what the hell is going on. No one has told me anything." Robin thinks that's illegal all in itself. Or it should be, at least.

Sighing, Spencer pulls her to him and Robin wraps her arms around his waist in a tight hold. She releases a breath, one she hadn't realized she'd been holding and lets herself feel safe in his arms.

Glancing over his shoulder to the door, Spencer pushes Robin away with his hands on his shoulders just enough to look down at her. "They arrested you on first-degree murder but the charges are unsound, faulty at best." He informs her, his steady voice making her feel better. "I don't even know why they arrested you so quickly. Probably just ready to close the case, not caring if they got the right person or not."

"Great police work," Robin mumbles with a very mature eye-roll. "What now?"

"Well, I happen to know a few people who actually know the law," Robin snorts and Spencer can't help but smile. She really has worn off on him. Her sarcasm has, at least. "You're free to go, but they still want to question you."

"I'm fine with that," Robin tells him with a shake of her head. "Don't know why they didn't just ask in the first place."

"They're egotistical?" Spencer offers, cocking his head to the side.

"Vain."

"Proud."

"Yes, well," Robin pulls her sore wrists to her chest and rubs them. "I have the marks to prove it."

"I'm sorry," Spencer sighs, gently grabbing her arms below the red skin and bringing to closer to him.

"Goodness," Robin huffs, pulling a hand free to place it on his cheek. "It's not your fault."

Raised voices reach the couple's ears and they both turn away from each other to look towards the door. Spencer recognizes Hotch's steady, firm voice while Robin identifies the detectives slightly more frantic one.

"He doesn't sound happy," She comments in a low tone.

"Yeah, apparently he's not getting anywhere with the case. And now we're taking away his only lead."

"I can answer questions I just can't promise it'll help," Robin mumbles while they slowly inch towards the door. "I don't even know who died." Stopping suddenly, Robin turns Spencer back to look at her. "You know I didn't kill someone, right?"

"Of course," Spencer doesn't hesitate to say, placing a hand on her cheek. "And you were with me that day and night, so you have an alibi." He knows Robin is capable of many things but murder is not one of them. "There is one little matter, though," He starts, clearing his throat when she only looks at him questioningly. "They found a partial print at the scene. It matched yours. That's how they connected you to the...crime."

Closing her eyes, Robin pinches the bridge of her nose. "I-I don't- who died?"

"Todd Landom," Spencer immediately sees that no recognition appears in his girlfriend's eyes. She obviously doesn't know who that is. Or remember, anyway.

"I don't know who that is," Robin voices, racking her brain to put a face to that name.

"I haven't gone over the details, to busy worrying about you," Spencer informs her, taking her wrists to pull her hands away from her face. "Just that they found a print, ran it. Your prints were already in the system from-"

"Yeah," Robin cuts him off with a nod and purses her lips.

"Right," Spencer mumbles. "Witness statements say you and the victim had an altercation a few months ago."

"Wha-" Robin cuts herself off and Spencer sees the moment everything clicks. "Oh, man," She sighs and runs a hand down her face. "I remember now."

"What happened?" Before Spencer can get an answer to his questions, the door to the interrogation room opens, and the detective from before steps in.

"Times up," He tells them sternly as if he has complete control over the situation. Well, he sort of does, though Spencer hates to admit it, it is his case. He's only allowing them to lend their assistance. After a few well-delivered warning -threats- from Hotch.

"Any questions you have can be asked in the conference room." Morgan appears behind the man, staring him in the eyes until he sighs in defeat and moves from the doorway.

Deciding introductions can be done later, Spencer gives his friend an appreciative nod before leading his girlfriend friend out of the small room and into another not much bigger one. At least this has colored walls and more than a metal table and two metal chairs.

Spencer and Robin take a seat next to each other. The detective and Emily - per Hotch's orders - sit across from the two. "I'm Emily Prentiss, I work with Reid." The dark-haired woman offers her hand over the table for Robin to shake.

"Robin. Nice to meet you," She accepts the handshake, ignoring the impatient sigh from the detective sitting next to the agent. "Though the circumstances could be better." Robin's eyes bore into the side of the detectives head. Emily follows her eyes and nods a little in agreement. If anything ever gets to her, it's bad and sloppy police work.

Clearing her throat, Emily puts on her professional face and pulls out a picture from the file sitting on the table. "Do you know this man?" She slides the paper towards Robin. Convincing detective Walsh to let them assist in this case had been difficult. Especially getting him to agree with Emily helping question Robin. Prentiss suspects he has a problem with powerful women.

"I wouldn't say I know him," Robin looks at the I.D photo of the man she knows to be dead now. "But I've seen him. He's come into the bar I work at a few times. Haven't seen him in a while."

"Witnesses say you had an altercation a couple of months ago," Walsh says with obvious forced calmness.

"If by altercation you mean he was being a handsy asshole, yeah."

"What?" Spencer's gaze snaps down to her face. Of course, those words don't sit right with him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, okay," Robin turns to him, taking his hand under the table. "I just know how much you worry and didn't see the point."

"Tell us what happened," Emly says before the couple can break out into a whole other conversation.

"He comes in one night, I don't remember when exactly," Robin looks off to the side as she thinks. "I think he might've already been drunk. After I gave him his drink, he offers to buy me one. I politely turn him down, he doesn't take it well." She squeezes Spencer's hand, moving it with her's to rest on her thigh. "He grabs my wrist, doesn't let go until Marcus, once of the bouncers, makes him leave. That's the last I saw of him. I barely remember him, I work at a bar, he's far from the first disgruntled customer I've ever had."

"We found your print on his watch," Walsh pulls out another picture, this one a close up of said watch. "How do you explain that?"

Robin shrugs and looks form the picture to his wrinkled face. "He grabbed my wrist, I grabbed his. That's where people usually wear their watches. He must've been wearing his." Probably not the best idea to get smart with the man who arrested you. And if the way Spencer taps the back of her hand with his thumb is anything to go by, he agrees. "I was a little too preoccupied to be paying attention to what he was and wasn't wearing."

"We were able to get a match on the print, your print, so quickly because you already have a record," Walsh says it like she didn't already know. Robin keeps her expression blank. Spencer already knows this so she's not bothered. Though his team members don't and she's already made the worst first impression. Her past arrest record coming out without context isn't helping. "Breaking and entering, underage drinking, assault on a police officer."

He reads from a file but Robin thinks he's just doing it for show. She looks off to the side, holding in a scoff and an eye-roll. This really isn't painting her in a good light. Emily, for her part, schools her own expression. Over her life and job, she's learned jumping to conclusions isn't the best thing to do.

Anger creeps up into Robin, she can feel it in her bones, swimming through her veins, making her skin itch. She squeezes Spencer's hand. "I was seventeen. My sister had just died, I wasn't exactly thinking straight." She all but snaps. Spencer's hand tightens around her own. That night...she would very much like to forget everything that happened that year, honestly. But that night...well, people are more inclined to believe two police officers over some drunk teenagers. "And assault on a police officer is a joke. With all due respect to police officers, that particular one was an ass. All I did was push him away from me right before he broke my wrist."

"I don't see how that, in any way, pertains to this," Robin jumps in again before the others could. She has a very strong feeling that the detective doesn't like her. He definitely wouldn't be the first person to have similar feelings.

"He wrote in his report that you were hostile, unpredictable, aggressive. I could go on."

"Because a five-foot, eighty- five-pound teenager is such a threat to a six-foot-tall, two-hundred-pound man." Circumstances of that night hadn't bothered her in a while because she hadn't thought about them. But with this as-person bringing it all up again, it's getting to her.

"That was years ago, I don't see how that relates to this case," Spencer finally finds a pause in their 'conversation' to get his own words in. He isn't the kind of person that angers easily, who hates people easily, but he's not finding it difficult to feel those ways towards this man.

"You're not apart of this interrogation," Walsh turns his attention towards the younger man and Emily pipes up.

"This isn't an interrogation," She'd known the detective was hot-headed and determined but now he's just way out of line. "And if you can't see that, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"You can ask all you like, sweetheart," Spencer's eyebrows raise at the man's choice of name. His eyes shift to Emily as she calmly stands.

"We have not further questions for you as of this moment," She tells Robin, voice professional but Spencer can tell it's a bit more forced. Walsh is getting on her nerves as he already has theirs. But he knows she'll never break. "You're free to go."

"You can't just do that," Walsh also stands and argues but he goes ignored. "This is still my case." Hotch and his perfect timing chose that moment to walk into the room. Spencer leads Robin out behind Emily while his boss starts talking to the detective. He doesn't bother listening.

Robin passes by everyone and doesn't stop until she pushes her way outside. Spencer motions to his team members to give them a minute and rushes after her.

Running her hands through her dark hair, Robin forcefully blows out a breath from her mouth to calm herself. "Sorry," She mumbles to Spencer when she turns to him, choosing to grab his shirt with her shaky hands rather than wring them together.

"Don't be," Spencer runs his hands over her hair before dropping them to rest on her cheeks. "It's okay. Well, not Walsh's behavior, but..."

"He is kind of a douche, isn't he?" Robin tries to laugh but the noise falls flat.

"I'm sorry he brought that up, I know you don't like to think about it."

"It's not your fault," Robin takes another deep breath and looks out onto the street. "I feel sick." She whispers before covering her mouth as nausea fills her stomach.

"Okay, come here," Spencer leads his girlfriend to sit on a bench placed up against the building. He rubs her back while she focuses on her breathing. It's not just that night that holds bad memories. It's like a single leaf on a vine of many bad memories and when you hit one, the other shakes with it. An odd analogy, but it works.

"Who's all here?"

Realizing her attempt to distract herself, Spencer answer without question. "Hotch, Emily, and Morgan."

"Wow, you really brought the cavalry, huh?"

"I think if Hotch wasn't there, they would've drawn straws to see who got to come." Robin cocks her head to the side and raises an eyebrow. "They want to meet you." Spencer shrugs.

"As I them," Robin nods but a grimace takes over her face. "This isn't exactly an ideal situation, though. You know, getting arrested. Especially to a bunch of FBI agents."

"You didn't do anything, it's just a misunderstanding," Spencer informs her though he can't completely disagree. That hadn't been the highlight of his life, telling his team his girlfriend had been arrested for murder. "They know that."

I hope so, Robin bites her tongue not to say and nods her head instead. "Yeah. I don't really want to go back inside."

"Understandable," Spencer nods. "And you don't have to. All charges have been dropped, so I can take you home."

"I'd feel bad, just leaving without saying anything to them. Especially Emily, after everything she heard." Robin tells him and takes his hand. She thinks - hopes - she'll feel better if maybe she could explain, or something.

"You don't have to see them but if that's what you want," Spencer pulls out his phone, and Robin nods. He sends off a text before sitting back, his arm wrapping around her protectively.

The door opens and the couple stands. Robin holding tight to her boyfriend's hand. "You know, I usually try to make a good first impression," She lets out a humorless laugh. "Guess my chance here is blown."

"It's definitely rememberable," Emily says but she smiles. "I would like to formally apologize for detective Walsh's behavior. It was unprofessional and inappropriate."

"Thank you, but it wasn't your fault," Robin's shoulder's deflate as a feeling sense of ease settles over her. "And despite everything, it is nice to finally meet you."

"You as well," Morgan says and steps forward. "Even if we didn't know you existed." Robin huffs a laugh and shakes his offered hand. "Derek Morgan."

"Robin Calvillo," She releases his hand and steps back into Spencer's side. "Sorry for the trouble. I can't thank you guys enough for your help."

"You're one of us now," Derek tells her, and Emily nods. Spencer smiles at their acceptance.

"We help our own."

Robin can't help the smile that stretches across her face at their words. She already feels so much better. There's no hate or judgment in their eyes. They don't look at her like so many people did that day and the months after that night.

"I'm going to take her home," Spencer tells her team and they nod in understanding.

"And stay, we got this," Derek pats his friend on the shoulder and smiles once more to Robin before reentering the building, Emily following after him.

"That went better than I was expecting," Robin mumbles, turning into Spencer's arms when he wraps them around her. She feels his lips press a kiss against her hairline before he speaks.

"There's nothing to worry about," He pulls back then and grabs her hand. "Come on."

Sorry if all that seemed to like blow over quickly. I didn't really know how to drag it out and I didn't really want to either. My mind can't think of complex things right now, I'd need lots of time. But that's ^ just how it happened and I'm happy with it because I didn't want this fic to be super super long.

Though this whole thing brought up some bad memories for Robin, she deals with those in the next chapter.

Also, that detective? What a grade-A piece of crap, huh?

Thanks again for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

'-'