Checking your phone after being away from it for a long time only to find you have several missed calls is always a tad panic inducing. Especially when most of the people currently in your life have a job that is sometimes very dangerous. Which is why, when I came out of a yoga class to see I had three missed calls from Penelope, I got a bit nervous.
I quickly called her back, relieved when she answered on the first ring.
"Where have you been, Mickey?" She asked, sounding frazzled. "I called you like seventeen times!"
"Three actually," I corrected. "Is everything and everyone okay?"
"Yes, well mostly," She assured me. "But I think boy wonder could use some attention from his special lady friend."
"What makes you think that?" I asked, my cheeks growing warm from her little nickname for me.
"He's having a tough time with a case."
"Ah yes, and my crime fighting expertise will be just what he needs," I said sarcastically. "How am I supposed to help with a tough case?"
"Not tough like difficult, you goof," She sighed. "Tough emotionally. I think he could use someone to take his mind off it for a while."
"Are they in Washington?"
"Of course," Penelope groaned, getting tired of my hesitation. "I wouldn't have asked if they weren't. We may have a jet, but the FBI doesn't fly out girlfriends just because an agent is having a bad day."
"I'm not his girlfriend," I said firmly. "And I figured that, hence why I asked. I just don't know if we're at that point."
I hadn't seen Spencer in the week and a half since our last date, his job being the biggest asset in my desire to take things slow, and even though we still talked on the phone every day if he had the time, I wasn't sure he was invested enough that hearing from me or seeing me would be able to perk him up from a bad case.
"Would seeing him make you feel better if you were having a bad day?" She asked, causing me to ponder her question for a minute before admitted that yes it would. "Then I think it's worth a shot. He really likes you, Mickey. I think you'll be able to cheer him up more than you think."
I sighed, still unconvinced, but agreed to give it a try just before Penelope got a work related call on the other line and had to go. True to my word, I called Spencer as soon as I hung up. He did sound a bit more subdued than his usual self, but perhaps I was just reading into things since Penelope had said that he was down. Either way, he happened to be in the city quite close to the studio following up on a lead and agreed to take a break to get some lunch.
As soon as I saw Spencer sitting at a table in the cafe we'd agreed to meet at, I could tell Penelope was right. He looked withdrawn and troubled, but I still wasn't convinced I would be able to help if something was bothering him about a case.
He stood up from his seat to greet me, pulling me in for a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"How're you?" He asked as we sat down again.
"I'm alright," I smiled. "I was teaching all morning so I'm a bit tired, but it feels good to be getting back into it. How're you? Is it nice to be working a case here instead of being shipped around the country?"
"Nice isn't the word I'd use when it comes to potential serial killers in my own city."
Spencer's retort made me feel like an idiot because of course he'd prefer murderers to not live next door to him even if it meant he didn't have to travel, but I didn't know what to say. He seemed distant and distracted and since Penelope had tipped me off, I knew that something was bothering him, but I wasn't sure if it was my place to bring that up.
The waitress came to take our orders giving me a minute to gather my thoughts and decide my course of action.
"Sorry," I apologized after she'd left. "That was stupid, of course you wouldn't prefer to work in DC. I'll be honest with you, I was chatting with Penelope this morning and she said you were having a tough time with a case? I was hoping maybe this lunch would distract you or if you want to talk about it then feel free. I'm a pretty good listener these days."
"It's not so much the case," He confessed. "There's just this kid who stopped me at the station the other day, he got himself involved and I wish we could help him. But I'd rather not talk about it, if you don't mind."
There was more, there was definitely more, but I wasn't going to push him. Penelope said he could use cheering up and forcing him to talk about his feelings probably wouldn't do that.
"Of course I don't mind," I smiled. "I was just glad Penelope gave me an excuse to call you."
"You don't need an excuse to call me," He assured me, finally cracking a smile. "I was actually going to call you yesterday myself, but then this case happened and I got distracted."
"That's alright," I assured him. "If it's this close to home then I'd rather you take care of the crazy people first."
He flinched slightly at my use of the word crazy, his smile disappearing and I wished for a moment that I was the profiler so I could figure out what was going on inside his head.
Another awkward silence fell on us and I cursed myself for my word choice and for being so unable to pull Spencer out of his head even just for an hour.
It wasn't until after our food arrived that Spencer spoke again.
"Can I ask you something?" He queried. I nodded. "What happened with you and Penelope? You've hinted at it, but never actually mentioned what exactly you did before you left that upset her so badly."
Now it was my turn to sigh as I looked down at my plate, twirling pasta on to my fork, pondering how best to answer the question. It wasn't something I was proud of and definitely not something I wanted to talk about, but relationships are give and take right? If I give an explanation then maybe he'll open up and we can shake off the awkwardness surrounding our little date.
"It was a lot of little things over the years," I admitted after a few moments of thought. "I was drinking and partying with no regard for anyone's feelings and Penelope was always there trying to help me out of whatever mess I'd gotten in to. Instead of being grateful for that, I took advantage. I knew she wouldn't push me away no matter how many important events in her life I missed or times I hurt her feelings so I didn't think I ever really had to take her feelings in to consideration."
Spencer's eyebrows drew together in a scowl and my cheeks heated up.
"I know, it's horrible. You don't have to tell me. Looking back, I can't believe I was so mean to the only person who was actually looking out for me, but at the time I couldn't see it that clearly." I explained. "Anyway, when we moved here, I lived with Penelope and by 'lived with' I mean I slept on her couch and paid no rent. We barely saw each other because she was busy at work and I was out all night and sleeping all day, but I knew that she'd bought herself this computer after her first few paycheques from the FBI. It was something she'd wanted for years and she was so proud of herself for finally being able to afford it. But then she went away for a case or something and wasn't home one night so I had a some people over for drinks and things got wild and the next thing I know, I'm waking up to Penelope screaming for everyone to get out. Turns out that someone had spilt a drink on her computer at some point and I hadn't noticed. It had been soaking in it all night by the time Penny got home and there was no way to save it."
"You must be the reason Garcia doesn't like anyone bringing coffee cups into her office," He mused, his lips pressed into a tight line as he was obviously unimpressed by what I'd shared.
"Probably," I nodded. "I moved out shortly after that and when she wouldn't answer my calls I moved to Europe a few months later. Once I got myself together in France, I sent her a cheque for the months of rent I owed her and the computer and it was the first time we'd talked since it happened. She sent me a picture back of the ripped up cheque saying she didn't want my money, but she was happy to hear I was back on my feet. We reconnected, but it was strained which is why I wanted to come back and patch things up for real."
"I can see why thing were so tense between you when you came home now," he said, his expression doing little to tell me what he was thinking.
"It's why I'm so determined to prove to her I'm not that person anymore," I insisted. "Does it make you think differently of me?"
"No," Spencer shook his head. "I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me or irritate me that you would treat Garcia that way because she's someone I care very much about, but I didn't know that Mikayla and the Mikayla that I do know wouldn't do that."
"I wouldn't!" I agreed. "I almost lost the best friend I ever had because I was selfish and reckless and I don't want to live like that ever again."
"Good," Spencer forced a smile.
Another silence settled us as we ate until this time I was the one who broke it.
"Now that I've shared probably the thing I'm most ashamed about in my entire life, perhaps you'd like to tell me what's wrong?" I asked, reaching out and putting my hand on his, germs be damned. "You seem so down, Spencer. I know there's something on your mind."
He looked at me for a moment and I felt certain he was about to tell me to mind my own business and not expect him to open up about open investigations, but to my surprised the opposite happened and the floodgates opened.
"The boy on this case, he gets really bad thoughts. He hasn't acted on them yet, at least I don't think he has, but he knows it's not normal and he's scared. It's why he found me, he wants to get help," Spencer explained, talking a lot faster than his usual pace. "I can just see myself in him so much. He's smarter than kids his own age, he's awkward and shy, doesn't have many friends and he wants to understand what's going on in his head like that will make it all go away."
I nodded as he talked, but when he paused I bit my lips anxiously, worried I wouldn't be able to help like I'd told him I wanted to.
"I'm sorry, Spence, but I don't understand," I admitted. "You don't have bad thoughts, do you? Just because this boy maybe has some similar traits to you doesn't make you anything like him."
"No, no, it's not that," Spencer said. "I want to help him, I feel like it's my responsibility because I understand what he's going through. I know what it's like to be afraid of your own mind."
"Afraid?" I asked softly, not wanting him to shut down again. "Why would you be afraid of your mind?"
Spencer swallowed hard and the grip he had on his fork was so tight that his knuckles were turning white. It didn't take a profiler to know this wasn't a topic that was easy for him to talk about.
"My mother has schizophrenia," He finally blurted out after a tense moment. "She lives in Bennington Sanitarium in Las Vegas where I grew up. It's genetic so I have a much higher chance of developing it than the average person and even though signs are usually there by the time you're twenty-five, I'm not out of the woods yet. I worry every day that I'll wake up and my worst fears will come true."
"Oh my gosh," I said quietly, completely floundering for anything useful or reassuring to say after the bombshell he'd just dropped on me. "I'm so sorry to hear that. But if the chances drop after twenty-five, statistically you're probably going to be okay, right?"
"Probably," He nodded despite the clear tension still in his body. "But I saw how it ruined my mom's life, how it stole her from me and drove away my dad. He left because he couldn't handle her and he didn't want to be a single parent so he didn't take me with him. But she was so smart, you know? She was a university literature professor and now she's just paranoid and scared. It took everything from her and I don't want that to happen to me."
"I think you're doing fine," I assured him knowing that my lack of medical degree would make my thoughts on the matter fairly unimportant. "I know how scary that must be, but if you have no signs then you can't live your life worrying about something you can't change. And your dad sounds like a shithead by the way."
Spencer snorted out a laugh at my last comment and I smiled, hoping I'd cheered him up just a tiny bit.
"He is," He agreed. "And I do try, it just gets on top of me sometimes and I can't stop thinking about it. I know all the statistics point to me being alright and I know I have none of the signs, but the possibility of losing everything I've worked for and everyone I love terrifies me."
"From what I've seen of those people you love it would take much more than schizophrenia to drive them away. Especially Garcia, she doesn't give up on people without a damn good reason as I just told you," I reminded him. "Now tell me about your mom, what's she like? Are you close?"
He smiled and nodded as a look of fondness overtook the anxiety that had been on his face all day.
"We are, or we were. She was all I had and I knew she wasn't well, but we made it work. She read to me a lot and took care of me in the best way she knew how. She didn't leave me like my dad even though she had more reason to not feel capable of being a parent. She loves me a lot and putting her in the sanitarium was the hardest thing I've ever done, but I knew she wasn't well and wasn't taking care of herself and I was away too much to give her the proper care she needed. She was so upset though, she was begging me not to send her away as they took her out the door."
"You were just looking out of her," I insisted. "I'm sure on some level she does know that. Do you visit her often?"
"No," He admitted sheepishly. "I write to her every day. I tell her everything about my life and our cases or 'adventures' as she calls them, I even told her about you. She does worry about me being alone so I thought she'd like to know I met someone who seems to enjoy my company. But I don't visit. It's selfish, I know, but it's hard to see her like that especially if she's having a bad day."
"That's understandable, Spencer. I'm sure letters are much more than some patients in her hospital get from their families. You're allowed to be a little bit selfish sometimes if it helps you cope," I assured him. "I like that you told her about me though."
Spencer's eyes met mine for more than a brief moment for one of the first times since I'd sat down across from him. His cheeks were twinged pink, but there was a soft smile on his face.
"Really? You don't think it was weird?"
"No, I think it's really sweet," I told him with a smile of my own. "And I'd like to be involved in many more of your letter worthy adventures in the future."
My hand was still gently laying on top of Spencer's on the table until he flipped his over to gently hold onto mine.
"I'd like that too."
And as he slowly lifted our hands up to place a soft kiss on the back of mine, I felt my heart swell realizing that we'd crossed another barrier in this little relationship of ours with our confessions. We were heading into uncharted territory, for me at least, but it felt right and it felt natural and I couldn't have been more excited.
