take this burden away from me
and bury it before it buries me

many are the days I've wanted to cease
lay myself down and find some relief
heavy is the head that gets no sleep
we carry our lives around in our memories

-"Cold is the Night" by the Oh Hellos


Derek couldn't sleep. He stayed awake staring at the ceiling, listening to Spencer turning pages in his book in the dark, his mind running wild. He knew he was going to see his name on the varsity list in the morning, he just knew it, and he indulged in daydreams, picturing himself getting announced at the homecoming game, scoring winning touchdowns, winning awards, signing onto a college team at the end of his senior year. He stayed up all night, thinking.

At least he thought he stayed up all night.

His alarm went off, startling him awake, and he slapped it off. Late summer morning sunlight barely peeked out through the window, turning the edges of the horizon blue. Spencer raised his head from the sound of the alarm; he still held a book in his hand and more books were stacked neatly beside him.

"Is it time to get up already?" Spencer asked.

Derek rolled out of bed, tossing his sheets and blankets aside in lieu of actually making it neatly like he was supposed to. "Yeah, it is," he said. "Man, I didn't sleep at all last night."

"No, you did," Spencer said. He set his book aside and crawled out of bed, pulling his single thin blanket back into place. "You fell asleep around two."

"Really?" Derek said, wrinkling his nose. "How do you know?"

"You snore."

Derek picked up his uniform pieces, then paused. "Did you sleep at all last night?" he asked. Spencer just shrugged.

For once in his life, Derek was ready before anybody else, racing down the seven flights of stairs to wait for the others, his backpack on his shoulders. JJ made it down next, her blonde hair braided again and her mouth tugged down in a frown.

"Hey, Jayje!" he said. "You excited to see the rosters?"

"I guess," she said, hooking her thumbs in her backpack straps.

"You don't sound that excited," he said. "Come on, aren't you at least a little curious to see if you made it?"

"Curious, yeah, I guess," she said. "Not as excited."

Before he could press her further, Hotch and Spencer joined them. "You're early for once," Hotch said, checking his watch.

"I'm motivated," Derek said. "Rosters should be up before homeroom."

"Maybe they stuck you on second string JV again," Hotch said.

Derek rolled his eyes. "Come on, dude, have a little faith in me," he said. "I have a really good feeling about this."

Penelope clattered down the stairs. "I'm here! I'm sorry! I'm here!" she called. "I'm sorry, I completely lost track of time."

"You're fine," Hotch said. "But I have a feeling you and Derek are going to take turns running late all year."

"I'm usually on time for things," Penelope protested.

"No, you're not," JJ said.

"Well, we've got everybody here, so let's go!" Derek said.

He jogged out of the lobby without waiting for the others. They could catch up, it would be fine. Maybe they already had the lists up. The sooner he got there, the sooner he would know for sure.

He jogged up the steps, pushed open the double doors, and ran to the bulletin board in the lobby. "Nothing," he said aloud.

"God, Derek, can you slow down a little?" Hotch called. "It's too early for this."

He shoved the doors open. "They still don't have the lists up," he complained.

"Shit!"

He winced. "Sorry, Emily," he said. "I didn't see you there."

"Jesus, Morgan," Emily said, rubbing her forehead. "Hotch is right, it is too early for this."

Alex peered at the slight red mark. "You'll live," she said. Emily rolled her eyes. "Hey, is the offer still good to eat breakfast with you guys?"

"Yes! Absolutely!" Penelope said. She paused and looked around. "Right?"

"Sure," Hotch said. "Just you two?"

"Dave and James live off campus and commute," Alex explained. "Sometimes they join us for breakfast, and sometimes they slide into homeroom at the last possible minute."

Derek led them inside; it was early enough that it wasn't too busy. He let Penelope and JJ slide in before him and he grabbed a plate and a tray. "Did you guys try out for any sports?" he asked.

"Absolutely not," Emily said. "That requires entirely too much effort." She dropped her plastic tray on the rail. "The ambassador told me I had to do one extracurricular, and it was not going to be anything that involves running around."

"Yeah, me neither," Alex said. "I played cello in the orchestra for a while, but let's just say that I'm better at appreciating music than playing it. And the library keeps me busy." She tapped her fingers on her tray as she eyed the serving line. "Oh, and ballet."

Emily did a double take. "You do ballet?" she said. Alex nodded. "When, bitch?"

"I have a private in the afternoon, and I take classes on the weekend and when I'm not in the library," Alex said.

"Do you ever have time to, you know, breathe?"

"I'll have to pencil that into my schedule," Alex said. She looked down at Spencer, struggling for the stack of plates. "Do you need a hand?"

"Yes, please," he sighed reluctantly. "I'm too short to reach."

Alex picked up a second plate and added it to her tray. "Just tell me what you want, okay?" she said.

"Did James or Dave try out for sports?" Derek asked.

Alex laughed. "God, I'd love to see Dave try out for something," she said. "James did track and field for a while, but he's hoping to get an internship at the hospital in town this year, so he's not doing much in the way of extracurriculars." She looked down at Spencer. "Waffle?"

"Yes, please."

Derek twisted around and nearly dropped his tray. "They're posting it," he said. "They're posting it!"

"Hey!" JJ protested as he grabbed her arm.

"Let's go, Jareau!" he said, dragging her along behind him. "We gotta see!"

His heart pounded in his chest. If his name wasn't on the varsity team...what if he didn't even make JV? "My name better be up there," he said.

"You made it!" JJ said, jabbing her finger at the board. "See? You made it!"

He followed her gaze, and sure enough- Derek Morgan, 10th, Lincoln House, printed in bold under the varsity list. "Holy shit!" he said. "I did it! Holy shit!" He scanned the board for the soccer teams. "And you did too!"

"Really?" she said.

"Yeah, look!" he said. He took her by the shoulders and gave her a playful little shake. "I told you I had a good feeling, JJ! C'mon, let's go tell them!"

The others were sitting at their normal table, Alex and Emily fitting in easily. "I'm on varsity!" he said, pumping his fist in the air. "And JJ made the soccer team!"

Penelope clapped her hands. "I knew it!" she said. "See? I told you both there was nothing to worry about."

"Thank god you didn't get stuck on JV again, I wouldn't be able to put up with your moping," Hotch grinned. "Congratulations, Morgan. And you too, JJ."

"Practice starts tomorrow!" he said as he plunked down in his seat.

Emily stabbed her fork in her scrambled eggs. "You're so excited, it's adorable," she said. "If only I could feel that kind of youthful joy again."

"You're only sixteen," Hotch said dryly.

"Yeah, same age as you," she said. She looked him up and down. "I think you're in the same boat as me. Ah, where has your youthful joy flown, my dove?"

Hotch paused, a spoonful of oatmeal halfway to his mouth. "I have plenty of youthful joy," he said.

"No, I'm pretty sure you were born a full-fledged adult," she said. "You were born with a business card in your hand, knowing what a fixed rate mortgage is."

Alex laughed. "Okay, come on, Emily, stop it," she said. "I'm sure you can find plenty of joy in debate club."

She sighed. "I regret it already, Alex," she said. "I regret it."

"I'm in debate club too!" Penelope piped up. "And Hotch is in drama club with me too!"

Emily turned towards Hotch, a smirk slowly spreading across her face. "Hotch is what now?" she said.

"I'm in eleven clubs!" Penelope said, not realizing what was happening. "Debate, theatre, ukulele, crafting, sculpture-"

"When are you going to have time to sleep?" Alex said. She glanced over at Spencer beside her. "Speaking of which. Did he not get any sleep last night?"

"I don't think so," Derek said.

"Probably all the sugar," Hotch said. "A kid his size shouldn't eat three bags of cotton candy."

Spencer had his head down on his folded arms. Alex rubbed his back lightly and he bolted upright. "What happened?" he said. "Did I miss something?"

"You dozed off," Alex said. "And JJ and Derek made their sports teams."

Spencer sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Oh, that's good," he said.

Derek ruffled his hair and he ducked his head. "I knew I was going to make it," he said proudly. "I'm going to call my mom at lunch, she'll be excited."


This was not how she wanted to spend her Tuesday night.

Emily dragged herself down the hall. The main building was decidedly creepy at night, the wood-paneled halls half lit and casting strange shadows. This place has to be haunted, she thought, trailing her hand along the slick polished banister. Definitely super haunted.

The English classroom door was propped open, light spilling out into the hall and illuminating the construction paper sign that said DEBATE CLUB in big permanent marker letters. She peeked inside. The supervising teacher sat at the desk while about fifteen other students in a half-circle of chairs, looking slightly out of place in their normal clothes and munching on chips and cookies.

Penelope brightened, already a beacon in her pink dress and purple glasses. "Emily!" she said. "You're here! I saved you a seat!"

Emily sighed. "Hi, Pen," she said.

"Oh, a nickname, I love nicknames," she said. Emily sat down beside her. "Your boots are killer, oh my god. Are you excited? I'm so excited."

"You're excited about everything," Emily teased. "Excited is your default setting."

Penelope shrugged. "I like finding joy in things," she said.

The teacher behind the desk stood up and Emily scowled. "I don't think I can find any joy in this," she said.

"Hi, everybody," the teacher said. "I'm Ms. Strauss, and I'm supervising the debate club this year."

Emily slunk down in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're not a fan of Strauss?" Penelope whispered.

"Not in the slightest," Emily whispered back. "She's my head of house. And my English teacher. And she likes rules."

"Prentiss, please sit up and refrain from talking, you'll have time to talk in a moment," Ms. Strauss said. Penelope turned to Emily, her mouth rounding in a shocked little O. "So I thought it would be fun to start with a little icebreaker. I want everyone to find a partner." Penelope grabbed Emily's arm. "I want you to pretend you're going on a vacation, and I want you to tell your partner the one item you absolutely have to bring with you."

"Phone," Emily said immediately. "This is stupid."

"Hm," Penelope mused. "Maybe a sensible pair of shoes, if we're going someplace touristy and walkable. Or maybe sunscreen, if it's sunny? Or snacks."

"You pack snacks for an airplane?" Emily said. "You know they'll feed you on a flight, right?"

"Not if it's a cross-country road trip," Penelope said. "And in that case I'm going to need teddy grahams and goldfish crackers."

"All right, everyone," Ms. Strauss called. "Now we're all going to our vacation on a boat."

"Okay, definitely sunscreen," Penelope whispered.

"And then disaster strikes!" Ms. Strauss continued. "The boat has sunk and we must all swim to safety. Discuss with your partner which of your items you'll want to keep. And...go!"

"Your stupid sunscreen!" Emily said, throwing her hands in the air. "My phone would be completely waterlogged, and there wouldn't be any signal anyway. There. Debate over. Can we go?"

Penelope scrunched up her face. "This isn't much of a debate," she said. "I thought there would be a lot more arguing."

"God, I wish there was more arguing, that's what I came here for," Emily sighed.


Spencer gathered up his backpack as the bell rang. There was a trick to getting the zipper closed and it just wasn't working; he could probably just hold it closed until he made it back to his room.

Penelope leaned over his desk. "I'm going right to ukulele club after this," she said, holding out her instrument case. "Look at it! I found a pink one!"

JJ smiled. "It's really cute," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Do you guys want to start on our essays?" Spencer asked. He held his backpack carefully by his side as he followed them out of their classroom. "I have some ideas already."

"Oh, I would, but I have soccer practice," JJ said.

Penelope waved her ukulele case. "And I'm going to finally learn how to play this thing," she said.

He thought he was hiding his disappointment, but JJ patted his shoulder lightly. "We can work on it later," she said. "Maybe tomorrow after school?"

"Oh, no can do, I have theatre club with Hotch," Penelope said.

"Jesus, Penelope, did you leave yourself any time to get your homework done?" JJ asked.

Penelope blinked. "Of course, Jennifer. That's what homeroom is for."

"That sounds like a terrible plan," JJ said.

"It's not that uncommon, eighty-six percent of high schoolers procrastinate on their homework," Spencer offered.

"Maybe you'll outgrow it," JJ suggested.

"In college it goes up to eighty-eight percent."

"Well, we'll just have to work on weekends, I guess," JJ said. "See you guys later. I'm going to run laps in ninety-five degree heat."

"Oh, gross, good luck with that," Penelope said.

The girls split up, heading their separate ways. Spencer stayed where he was at the top of the stairs, tightening his precarious hold on his backpack. It wasn't a big deal, really. He could probably work better on his own, anyway.

"Move, Spencer Weed," a voice said sharply, and a hand yanked his backpack out of his grip.

"Hey!" he protested, but the canvas ripped, spilling its contents down the steps.

Neal and Dallas pushed past him on either side, shoving him roughly. "We told you to move," Neal taunted as they jogged down the steps, kicking his pencils.

Spencer clenched his hands into small tight fists. This was what he thought he'd escaped from. It wasn't supposed to happen here too.

He made his way down the stairs, quietly picking up his belongings and shoving them into what remained of his backpack. It was practically useless now, but he could manage it. It could be worse, really.

Someone knelt down beside him and he jumped. "Hey, kiddo," James said. "Did your backpack rip?"

"Yeah," he said.

James helped him pick up the last of his things. "Yikes, I think your backpack has seen better days," he said. "You might need a new one."

"Yeah, maybe," he said glumly. He straightened up, holding the backpack gingerly. "Thanks."

"Hey, I was going to head to the student union and get some coffee before I go to the library," James said. "Do you want to come with me?" Spencer hesitated. "My treat. I was going to pick up something for Dave and Alex anyway."

"Are you sure?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah, absolutely," he said. "Come on. You look like you need a little caffeine."

The student union was the newest building on campus, the exterior old fashioned and red-bricked to match, but bright and airy on the inside, carefully decorated and full of natural light. It had been a main feature on the St. Thaddeus website when he started doing his research for a new school, although it hadn't particularly caught his eye at the time.

The cozy coffee shop was tucked away in a corner, soft indie music playing on the speakers and students scattered around at the blond wood tables with their laptops and ceramic mugs, and the air smelled sweet and bitter-sharp all at once.

"Have you been to the Honeybean yet?" James asked. "It's pretty nice, they just added it last year. I don't think I could have gotten through finals without it."

Spencer shook his head. "I haven't really tried coffee before," he said. "What should I get?"

"Hm," James said. "Okay. Hot or cold?"

"Probably cold."

"Sweet or not sweet."

"Definitely sweet."

James laughed. "I can work with that," he said. He stepped up to the counter to order; Spencer hung back by his side and kept looking around, watching his surroundings.

"All right, my dude, here you go," James said. "Careful, though, it's pretty full."

Spencer balanced the cup carefully in his hand. The swirled whipped cream on top seemed promising. "What is it?" he asked.

James took the drink carrier with the other cups. "It's a blended white chocolate mocha," he said. "I think it's the sugariest thing on the menu." Spencer took a cautious sip. "What do you think?"

"It's good," he said, surprised. "But it could a little sweeter. There's a kind of...burnt-ish aftertaste."

"That's the coffee," James said. "You'll get used to it."

"Or I'll cover it up with sugar," Spencer said. He took another sip. "Yeah, this is really good."

He finished a third of his drink by the time they made it to the library. "Hey, I come bearing gifts," James said, setting the drink carrier down by Dave's elbow.

"Oh, thank god," Dave said. "You're a gift, Blake."

"Where's Alex?" James asked, picking up his iced tea.

"I don't know, some kind of Dewey decimal emergency," Dave shrugged. "Whatever it is that teenage librarians panic over." He raised an eyebrow. "Hey, little one. Did you really need that much sugar?"

"It's good!" Spencer said. He sat down next to Dave, his feet dangling above the floor. "I think I feel a little more awake."

"Oh, you need sugar and caffeine like I need a hole in the head," Dave said. "James, did you really give him coffee?"

"Why? Are kids not supposed to drink coffee?" James asked, perplexed.

Alex stomped over to them, shoving the shelving cart out of her way. "Oh my god, if I have to explain how alphabetical order goes by last name and not first name one more time I am going to explode," she said. "Oh, you got coffee?"

James handed her a drink. "Iced chai latte," he informed her.

"Bless you," she said. "How many shots?"

"Three."

"Shots of what?" Spencer asked.

"Espresso," Alex said. She frowned. "James, did you get Spencer coffee?"

"Okay, did I mis something?" James said. "My mom has been giving me coffee for as long as I can remember." He frowned. "Wait, does coffee stunt your growth? I think I heard that somewhere."

"No, that's a myth," Alex said. "But he probably shouldn't have so much caffeine. He won't sleep."

"Oh, I don't sleep that much anyway," Spencer said. "I feel more awake now, though." He set his backpack down on the table. "I'm going to see how much work I can get done on my English essay."

"See? He's fine," James said.

"If he starts bouncing off the walls, I'm blaming you," Alex said, smoothing her hand over Spencer's untidy hair.


Hotch hovered outside the theater door. This was a bad idea. This was a very, very bad idea.

"What do you mean? This is a great idea," Penelope said cheerfully.

"Oh, god, did I say that out loud?"

"You sure did."

Hotch sighed. "Penelope, I shouldn't be here," he said. "I don't know anything about theatre."

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done some kind of school play," she said. "At least one?"

"I was supposed to be a monkey in The Wizard of Oz when I was six," he said. "I got the stomach flu."

"See, that's not-"

"I faked it," he said flatly. "The costume was stupid and I couldn't remember my line. My one line."

Penelope screwed up her face. "Okay, it is that bad," she said. "But at least you're motivated this time."

"Motivated by what?" he asked.

"Your crush on Haley Brooks."

He choked. "I do not have a crush on Haley Brooks!" he protested.

She linked her arm through his. "Your protests are adorable," she said. "Come on, Hotch. You're going to your first drama club meeting whether you like it or not."

He stifled a groan as she marched him down the center aisle of the house. About thirty other kids were on the stage, stretching and harmonizing loudly to a Broadway cast recording, trying to outdo each other. He tried to slow down, dragging his steps.

"Nope, nope, nope, keep going, Hotchner," Penelope said, propelling him up the stairs. He immediately found a spot in the back, away from the bright circle of stage lights, and sat down on the floor. She sat down beside him. "Don't worry, this isn't going to be terrible."

"No, this is terrible," he said. "I think I-"

He paused. Haley was standing by the speaker in a black tank top and hot pink shorts, her blonde hair tied up in a perky ponytail. She laughed at something Harper Hillman said, and his whole heart melted.

Penelope tipped his chin, closing his mouth. "Easy, tiger," she teased.

He swallowed hard. "I might be sick," he said. "I should go back to my room. I have homework to do anyway."

"You finished all of your homework," she said. She touched her hand to his forehead. "And you're not sick."

"No, no...I think I am," he said. "I should probably-"

"Hi, Haley!" Penelope called.

Haley glanced at her, then crossed to her with a smile. Hotch shrank down. "Penelope Garcia, no," he hissed. She smiled sweetly at him.

"Hey, guys," Haley said.

"Hi, Haley," Penelope said. "Congratulations on making the cheer squad."

Haley sat down beside them and stretched out her slim legs. "Thanks!" she said. "It was really tough this year. I got a little nervous."

"I'm, um, I'm sure you did great," Hotch blurted out.

Haley tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you," she said, almost shyly. Hotch smiled at her.

Harper Hillman switched off the cast recording and half the kids groaned. "Okay, you guys, cut it out," she said. "We're still waiting on the teacher, so in the meantime, we're going to play a game." A couple of kids shouted out suggestions. "No, ew, stop. We're going to play bippity bippity bop."

Apparently that was a good suggestion, judging by the cheers as everyone popped up off the floor. Hotch leaned over to Penelope. "What the fuck is that?" he whispered.

"It's a game, it's fun, stop freaking out," she whispered back.

He gritted his teeth. "It's easy," Haley said. "Harper's going to point to people and say 'bippity bippity.' If she points to you, you have say 'bop' before she finishes it. If she points to you and only says 'bop,' you can't say anything. If you say anything, you're out."

"And this is fun?" he said warily.

"Oh, that's just level one," Penelope said.

"There's more levels to this?"

Harper stood in the middle of the circle, almost as if she was holding court. The real theatre kids seemed to take it seriously, almost too seriously, half-crouching like runners at a starting line. Hotch flexed his hands. He was painfully conscious of Haley next to him, and he hadn't felt this gangly and awkward since his first growth spurt when he was eleven and kept running into doors because he couldn't remember how his limbs worked.

Harper pointed at him. "Bop," he blurted out, and she laughed at him.

"You're out, Lincoln House," she said, pointing to the wings. "Go on, shoo."

He reddened in embarrassment and stalked away, crossing his arms. This wasn't worth it. Haley Brooks was never going to notice him the way he wished she would, and this game was stupid, and he needed to focus on his schoolwork anyway.

Haley walked over to him. "Don't take Harper seriously, she's kind of snotty, but she's not that bad," she said.

"She's pretty bad," Hotch said.

Haley scrunched her nose. It was adorable, and he kind of felt like he might throw up. "Yeah, she is," she confessed. "But don't worry about it. Everybody else is super nice. And I think you'll pick up on this theatre stuff pretty quickly."

He looked down at her. "You think so?" he said.

She hip-checked him lightly. "Yeah, I think so," she said, and he smiled at her.


Derek trudged into the seventh floor common room, dragging his football bag behind him. "I'm exhausted," he announced.

"Good for you," Hotch said absently, not even glancing up from his homework. "Don't you dare leave your gear out here."

"Come on, cut me some slack, I've had practice every night this week," Derek protested. "They might start me in the first game of the season."

Hotch looked up. "Oh, that is good," he said. "Good for you."

"I'm gonna take a shower and crash," Derek said. "I seriously haven't been this tired ever in my life."

Hotch flipped a page in his math textbook. "All right, have a good time," he said absently.

Derek hoisted his bag onto his shoulder. He wasn't lying, he really was exhausted. At least it was Friday night and he could sleep in.

The door to his dorm room was closed but unlocked; he opened it up to find the lights on and Spencer asleep, curled up on top of his blanket like a kitten. He tiptoed into the room as quietly as he could manage. In the whole week, Derek had never caught him asleep. Usually Spencer stayed up reading a book with a small dollar store flashlight, and during the day his eyes were ringed with dark circles. If the kid could finally doze off, he would definitely do what he could to keep him asleep.

Derek set down his bag carefully and dug around in his drawers for clean clothes. At least showering this late at night meant that he could probably have the bathroom all to himself. Maybe he could even rig up his phone and play some music.

A soft noise caught his attention and he turned around. Spencer fidgeted, his mouth tugging down as he curled himself into a small, more protective little ball. "Hey, kid," he said. "You awake? You need to go back to sleep."

Spencer shifted around, mumbling under his breath. Derek set his clothes down. "Reid, you okay? he asked.

Suddenly Spencer bolted upright and screamed, too bright and blood curdling. Derek stumbled back. "Holy shit!" he said. "Kid, it's okay, I promise, it's okay."

He reached for him tentatively and Spencer scrambled back, covering his face. "Don't, don't, don't!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"Don't what?" Derek said, bewildered. "You're okay! Stop screaming!"

Hotch ran into the room. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

"I don't know, he just started screaming!" Derek said. "I don't what's happening!"

Hotch sat down beside Spencer and placed his hand on his knee. "Spencer, you're safe," he said, giving him a little shake. "It's just a bad dream."

Spencer's eyes flew open. He blinked unsteadily, his last scream dying in his throat, and unexpectedly he reached out and grabbed Hotch's arm. Hotch covered his small hand with his large one. "You're safe, Spencer," he repeated. "You're okay."

Spencer exhaled slowly. "'m sorry," he mumbled. His lower lip trembled and he pulled his hand away. "'m sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," Derek said. "Is something wrong?" Spencer shook his head.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hotch asked.

Spencer shook his head again and fumbled for a book. "I'm just going to read for while, I think," he said, his voice wobbling.

Derek caught Hotch's eye. There had to be something bad that kept that kid from sleeping and made him wake up screaming like he was getting axe murdered. But Spencer curled into a little ball and cuddled against his thin pillow with his book on his knees, his face turned away from them, clearly not about to talk about whatever he was hiding.

They would just have to figure it out later. Just not now.


Author's Notes:

This is a short chapter and it's up super super late, but I'm so tired! I went back to work this week, and let me tell you, I'm not prepared to be running around in the sun. It's too much for me. (It's also why I wasn't able to update Waving Through a Window on Monday; I just didn't have time!)

This is still a cute chapter, but I'm setting up the beginning of Spencer's first arc, and there's definitely more angst coming for more of the boarding school babes. This story is tricky to plot, but i hope you're enjoying it!

Also as a lifelong theatre kid, bippity bippity bop is terrifying. So intense.

Special thanks to xgoldentigerlilyx, ItsEmilyFreakingPrentiss, mytheopeia, Lady Sarlon, Cimminds, sweetkid45, Eeltje, nudepinata, Cat, ferret54, guest, and Tearbos for reviewing!

Also! I was asked why Spencer is so young. In canon, Spencer started high school at eight years old, and a big part of his role on the BAU team is the fact that he's the baby of the group. So he's the baby here!

I'm on tumblr as themetaphorgirl if you'd like to chat!