The weeks after Spencer and I confessed our love were magical. Of course, he was still off on cases every few days, but when people say that being in love is the best feeling in the world, they are right. Our bond felt stronger, like we'd reached another threshold and the world just seemed like a happier place. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, it felt like nothing in the world could dampen my mood. So I was disappointed when Spencer decided to do just that.

Throwing my yoga may strap over my shoulder as I left the studio one day, I waved goodbye the receptionist before turning to the door just in time to see Spencer open it.

"Hey!" I grinned. "What are you doing here? I thought you guys weren't coming home until the morning?"

"That's the luxury of having our own jet," He informed me, pulling me into a hug and kissing the top of my head. "We can leave whenever we want for the most part and we were all ready to be home so we bumped up the flight."

"And you came straight here?" I asked, leading him outside into the chilly November air.

"Of course, I wanted to see you. Thought maybe you'd like to come over? I can cook us some dinner."

"Cook?" I raised an eyebrow as he grabbed my hand and we headed to his apartment. "Can't we just order takeout? I think it'll be safer."

"Ha ha," He rolled his eyes. "By cook, I meant heating up a frozen pizza, but we can have takeout if you don't trust my abilities."

"Pizza sounds fine," I smiled.

Once we got to Spencer's I went to take a quick shower while he prepared the food and changed into the pyjamas that I'd started leaving at his place. I seemed to sleep over at least a couple nights a week so it made sense for me to have something to wear on the occasions that we weren't sleeping naked and wrapped up in each other. When I was done, I took my hair out of the bun I'd thrown it into and went back out to the living room where Spencer was waiting with our dinner.

I immediately noticed something was off though. He seemed nervous and was perched on the edge of the couch like he had been the day we'd been caught in the rain and despite the delicious smell coming from the table, I suddenly didn't feel like eating.

"What's wrong?" I asked, sitting next to him on the couch.

"Nothing," He mumbled, but the way he was chewing on his lip gave him away. "Let's just eat and talk after, alright?"

"Talk about what?" I asked, racking my brain for any reason why he'd be this anxious. Everything was going well between us, there were no serious conversations to be had. Well, except for...That's when it hit me. "You want to talk about what happened to me, don't you?"

He nodded meekly, looking at me like a child asking for a second dessert knowing his mother would be unimpressed by the request.

"I feel like we need to discuss it."

"Why?" I groaned, running a hand through my hair, feeling my stress levels rise instantly at the thought. "It was hard enough to talk about it the first time and it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not that person any more, I'm not some victim you need to council."

"I don't council victims," Spencer corrected me. "And I don't think of you that way, but it's a big thing that you went through and I was detoxing from narcotics when you first brought it up. I don't feel like I was in the right head space to be supportive."

"It's sweet that you want to support me," I admitted, picking at my nails nervously. "But I don't need it. Honestly, it was a long time ago. I'm over it."

"Then why are you so afraid to discuss it with me?"

I shot him an incredulous look, assuming the answer would be quite obvious, but I could see genuine curiosity behind his eyes.

"Because it was a big deal at the time and led me to a lot of things that I'm not proud of," I told him with a sigh, realizing I wasn't going to be able to avoid this conversation much longer without causing a rift between us. "It doesn't affect me in my day to day life, but that doesn't mean that it's not upsetting to discuss the details."

"Of course," He nodded, understanding my hesitation. "Do you have, uh, triggers? Like when we...we have sex? Does it bring back memories?"

I shook my head frantically at his question, horrified he would think that.

"No, absolutely not!" I insisted. "I've had enough meaningless sex in my life that I got over that kind of reaction long ago. Anyway, what we do together is so different from what happened that night. Even the time when you showed up in the middle of the night, there was still a tenderness between us that could never make me think of him."

Spencer let out a breath that I hadn't realized he'd been holding and relief flooded his face.

"I worried about that night," He admitted. "When you told me what happened to you, I was so scared that I could've made you feel like he did. I was selfish and fuelled by my own desire. It seemed like you enjoyed it too, but I wasn't self involved enough to think I wasn't using you."

It suddenly became clear why he was so eager to talk about it and I placed my hand on his knee, my heart cracking at the thought of him ever thinking that way.

"Spencer, no, not at all," I said firmly. "I was hurt that you left in the morning, but it wasn't the same thing at all. We had a consensual encounter that we both probably knew we shouldn't have had and maybe both had regrets about, but that's nothing at all like what happened to me."

He nodded and offered me a small smile as he placed his hand over mine on his leg.

"So what happened after? Did you press charges?"

"No, I didn't," I admitted quietly. "I should've, I wish I had, but I was really young and I was scared. I got on a bus, went straight to Penelope's apartment and spent the whole night crying so hard I couldn't even tell her what was wrong. When I did the next day, she obviously wanted to take me straight to the police station. Well, actually, she wanted to, I believe her words were, 'chop the bastard's penis off'," I corrected with a small smile, earning a soft chuckle from Spencer. "But I wanted to go home and tell my parents first. We were close back then and I thought they would help me through it..."

I trailed off and Spencer squeezed my hand.

"But?"

"They didn't. My mom was still so wrapped up in her grief over losing Penny's mom, she was depressed and like a zombie and my dad reacted just like most people do. He demanded to know why I was even at a university party and said he didn't know what I expected to happen if I was willing to get drunk with a bunch of frat boys wearing a short dress."

I saw a flash of anger cross Spencer's face that I'd never seen before, not even when he was on drugs and trying to push me away. He looked absolutely furious, but almost as fast as it appeared, it vanished and his concern returned.

"That's not true," He insisted, his voice pleading as if he was desperate for me to believe him. "You didn't bring it on to yourself. Men like that don't care what you're wearing or how much you've had to drink, they'll find a way to get what they want no matter what."

"I know that now," I nodded, my voice sincere. "I think I knew it back then too, but at the time it was almost easier to believe that it was my fault. That way I had the control back. If I believed that he hadn't really forced me into it because I'd made the choice to go to the party and have a few drinks then I was responsible for what happened and could stop it from happening again. Which is why I became so promiscuous."

My cheeks grew hot at my confession, my past sexual history not being one of my proudest moments, but Spencer squeezed my hand again to reassure me.

"I understand," He said quietly. "If you're open to any and every sexual encounter then you'll never find yourself in a situation where your wish to not have sex isn't respected. It's not an uncommon practice among rape victims."

I cringed slightly at the term 'victim', but nodded.

"Exactly. Even though I don't think I realized that's why I was doing it at the time," I admitted. "I knew I was drinking myself stupid almost every night to ease the pain I was feeling and to help me sleep without the nightmares, but it took a lot of meditation and self reflection to see how badly the trauma had affected me in other ways."

"Did you have therapy?" He asked, eyes widening as I shook my head. "Well it's impressive you managed to get to that conclusion all on your own."

"I've always been pretty self aware," I smiled at him. "But I really don't see myself as the girl who got raped anymore, Spencer, and I'm not just saying that naively because I want to pretend it didn't happen. It happened, it hurt and probably almost killed me and how I handled it definitely shaped who I am today, but it doesn't hold me back, it doesn't affect my life in anyway now. I told you because I thought it might show that I could relate to what you were going through, but it's something I dealt with, worked through and tucked away in a corner of my brain where it can't hurt me anymore. Focusing on it, even discussing it with you now, just feels like it's giving him more power over my life and he doesn't deserve that."

"He doesn't," Spencer agreed. "I'm sorry I made you talk about it. I just couldn't get it out of my head, knowing half the story and worrying that I could have made you feel even a fraction of the pain that he'd caused you."

"You absolutely never ever have," I assured him, stretching over to kiss his cheek and wrap my arms around his neck. His settled around my waist as he pulled my close towards him.

"Do you, uh, happen to know if Garcia was ever successful in her mission to chop of his penis?" He asked, causing me to giggle at the words I never would have expected to come out of his mouth. "Because if she didn't, I wouldn't mind tracking him down and doing it myself."

"As far as I know that was a mission she did not accomplish," I informed him, pulling away to sit back on the couch. "But I never cared enough to look him up after it happened so she very well may have."

"Let's hope so," Spencer smiled. "Now we should probably eat this pizza before it gets too cold and you blame it on my supposed lack of cooking talent."

I smiled and watched him fondly as he picked his plate up off the table and took a bite. It did feel better to get out the full story of what happened to me and the aftermath it caused especially if Spencer had been harbouring any concerns that I could ever compare him to the man who hurt me so many years ago. But I appreciated his willingness to quickly change the subject once it was dealt with. I didn't need or want his pity and we were supposed to be on top of the world with our newfound love for one another, I didn't want my baggage to taint that for even a second longer than it had to.