Like a Book

by Alira Maxwell

Reid & the BAU are on a case trying to pin a profile on an Unsub that constantly changes his mo and leaves a signature of bloody hand prints at every scene. Just when he starts to give up on pinning this unsub with a profile, he meets an alternative girl with a strange love of books who helps nudge him in the right direction. What happens when she becomes the unsub's next target?

3. Chapter 3

"To conceal anything from those to whom I am attached is not in my nature. I can never close my lips where I have opened my heart." – Charles Dickens

Harper sat on the edge of a fountain in the nearby park and watched people as they walked by, skirting around her ever since the media told everyone to watch out for people who like horror movies. Not that she walked around wearing a Friday the Thirteenth shirt or anything, but her alternative appearance of colored hair and tattoos still gave people bad impressions.

She checked her phone, seeing that it was about 7:30 and the sun was well past down. Harper had spent most of the morning walking around and running errands for the apartment, but she came to sit at the park around 6pm; she sat for an hour and a half, watching people and watching the sun go down.

Harper took a deep breath and stood up, sliding her phone into her pocket and grabbing the bags she bought at the store and started her walk home. Her apartment was around a fifteen minute walk from the park; one she made at least two times a week. She enjoyed how quiet and peaceful the park is, and when The Book Nook was too crowded, or the weather was nice, she would often come down here to work.

It was a quiet walk, and it seemed to take much longer than usual, but perhaps it was all in her head. Finally she made it to her apartment building; she walked into the building and up several flights of stairs until she reached her floor. She fumbled in her backpack until she pulled out her keys, and flipped through her keyring until she found the door key, which she jammed into the deadbolt and then the door lock.

Harper swung the door open and set her backpack down on the floor. She moved in and kicked the door closed with her foot, making her way to the living room to deposit the bags onto the couch. She reached down and started going through the bags, looking for some of the dish soap she bought earlier so she could get a load of dishes started. She grabbed the soap and stood up, she turned to make her way from the kitchen, and was blind sighted with a crack to the side of the head.

Harper tumbled to the ground, smashing into the table and rolling onto the floor. She landed on her back, grunting as she hit on the way down. She turned and looked up at the man who towered over her menacingly.

The adrenaline was rushing through her veins, she felt hear heart pounding, and heard the blood rush through her ears. The man raised his hand, brandishing a blade, and she screamed; Harper rolled under the table as the blade came down, missing her by only a second.

She crawled out from the other side of the table, and turned to stand up. The man reached over the table to get to her and she shoved upwards on the table, slamming it into him as she jumped up. She ran around the couch, avoiding him as she tried to make it to the door. He composed himself before she could reach and he jumped in front of the door.

Harper took ragged breaths as her mind raced, trying to process everything that was happening. The man in front of her was very large, and she had no hope of overpowering him. Her eyes darted over to the bookshelf against the wall. The man lurched at her and she stepped over to the book shelf and pulled in one hard yank, kicking the wall for leverage and the shelf topped over onto him.

Harper jumped over the shelf and tried to make a break for the door, when a hand reached out and grabbed her ankle. She screamed as she fell to the floor again, throwing her arms out to break her fall.

She was tugged backwards as the man climbed out from under the shelf, pulling him towards her simultaneously. She reached out and was able to grab her bag from the spot by the door. She ripped open a zipper and the man grabbed her bag and threw it across the room. The bag crunched against the wall and her cell phone tumbled out onto the floor.

She rolled over onto her back and tried to hit the man, kicking her legs and trying to push him way as he straddled her hips. She screamed at the top of her lungs, feeling her throat scratch and burn. The man grabbed her arms and pushed them against the floor. He knelt down onto her arms, pinning them down and Harper screamed at the pain.

The man grabbed her hand and splayed it open; he brought his knife down and sliced straight across her palm. Harper flinched and screamed again, as he moved to do the same to her other hand.

He pushed down on the skin, milking blood from the wounds, and then clamped her hands into fists. Harper whined at the pain and she could feel tears stinging her eyes.

The man then stood up, grabbing her by the arms and pulling her to her feet as if she didn't weigh an ounce. Harper cried and struggled against him as he pulled her over to the wall where the book shelf was just moments before. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them together; then placed his hands over hers as a guide to separate her fingers so her thumbs were pressed together forming a ninety degree angle from her forefinger, and all four of her fingers were pressed together in a line. He pressed her bloody hands firmly against the wall, putting enough pressure on them for Harper to cry out and her knees to feel weak. If he wasn't holding her up, she probably would have collapsed.

He held her hands to the wall for several moments before he pulled her hands away, leaving the print of a W, and then he threw her to the floor. Harper collapsed into tears, closing her fists together to hide the wounds from the stinging air.

She heard his heavy footsteps and she took a deep breath and look up at him, he was stalking towards the door. He turned looking at her one last time, before moving out of the door, closing it behind him.

Harper felt the tears running down her cheeks as he left her alone in her home. She was shaking, and gasping to catch her breath. Her eyes cast down to her cell phone lying on the floor, and there was a sudden pounding on her door that made her jump. She felt a rush of fear at the idea he came back.

The doorknob turned and opened and her neighbor walked through.

"Harper? I heard screaming?" The woman stopped dead, and her eyes widened as she took in the scene. "Oh my God!"

She looked down at Harper, and then saw the cell phone on the floor. The neighbor ran over and picked up the cellphone, quickly hitting the emergency call button.

Harper took deep breaths as she looked up at the woman she barely spoke to, but still came to check on her when she heard the struggle. She listened to the woman rattle off the details to the police before hanging up the phone.

She knelt down next to Harper and tried to make eye contact. "Harper? It's going to be okay. I called the police. You're going to be okay…"

Harper took a deep breath as she heard the sirens in the distance.

Spencer was in his apartment, settled down on his couch, pouring over some of the lists Garcia pulled in hopes something would stand out for him. Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot of ways for her to narrow down the list so far, so it was vast, and he was planning to be up all night trying to go through some of the backgrounds she printed for him.

He grabbed his mug of coffee and took a long drink, feeding off the caffeine as if it were lifeblood. He shut one file and was reaching for the next when his cell rang. He glanced around the table before finding it under a discarded set of files. Garcia's name ran across the screen; he accepted the call and brought it to his ear.

"Garcia?"

"Hey," Penelope's voice came out form the speaker. "The Unsub just attacked a woman in her apartment a few miles from the police station."

Reid started shuffling the files and stood up, grabbing his mug . "I'm on my way, what's the address?"

"Actually, no," Penelope cut him off, "He didn't kill the woman."

"Wait," Spencer said, eyebrows crinkling as he stopped in his tracks, "He left her alive?"

"That's what we are trying to figure out." Penelope said, "Morgan has her for questioning, but she seems to be shaken up. Emily and Rossi are heading to the crime scene; Hotch wants you in to help with the profile."

"I'm on my way." Spencer said, dropping his coffee mug into his kitchen before heading to the door. He hung up the phone, sliding it into his pocket and he grabbed his keys and jacket. He went out the door and made his way down to the bureau.

It didn't take him long to get there, and he quickly made his way down to the interview room. Hotch and JJ were standing on the other side of a glass window, no doubt watching the body language of the victim Morgan had in there.

"What happened?" Spencer asked his boss.

Hotch looked up to him and turned to give him attention. "Police received a call from the neighbor, heard a lot of screaming and a struggle. She went to go see what was happening, she found the girl, her palms were cut open and there were defensive marks. There were clear signs of a struggle and the W was printed on the wall."

Spencer nodded, "What has Morgan been able to get out of the victim?"

Hotch nodded towards the window, "Not much, she seems still shaken up and hasn't given us much. I'm thinking JJ might get a better response from her. Males may be making her nervous."

Spencer stepped up and looked in the window; and his heart dropped into his stomach like a boulder. Harper's colored hair was whipped all over her head, and there were bruises all over her arms. There was medical tape and gauze wrapped around her hands, and a bruise on the side of her face near her temple where she was clearly struck; those were just the wounds he could see. Spencer's eyebrows crinkled as he noticed her behavior.

Harper was looking all around the room, not even close to settling on Derek, like she had a hard time focusing on anything. Her hands were shaking and her shoulders were trembling. Her chest was heaving as if she was having trouble breathing.

Derek moved and asked another question. When she didn't answer, he prompted her, "Harper?"

Harper's eyes darted over to the wall Derek was near. "I-I don't know. I mean, I think he was… I-I think he was trying to grab me but I-I just, I can't; I think-"

Her entire body language, and the way she stumbled over her words, splaying them out faster than he did when he was ranting was making red flags fly in Spencer's head, and he remembered the words she said to him when he met her.

"She's not just nervous, she's having an anxiety attack." Spencer jumped and rushed towards the door.

"Reid!" Hotch yelled after him, but Spencer was already opening the door to the room.

Spencer rushed inside and Derek looked up at him, eyes wide as if he was taken off guard, "Reid, you got something?"

Spencer noticed how Harper froze up when Derek called attention to him, and her eyes searched around before landing on his face. "Spencer?" her voice cracked out in a winded whisper.

Spencer ignored Derek and rushed over, kneeling down beside Harper, whose eyes started darting around the room near where he was knelt. He reached out for her arm that was sitting on the table and she jumped.

"It's okay, it's me." Spencer said softly, trying to calm her. Harper seemed to settle down slightly and Spencer reached out slowly, placing his hand over hers and tracing circles with his thumb on the back of her hand in a comforting motion. Harper's eyes darted up to meet his as she took another shaking breath, "I need you to tell me where you keep your medication."

Harper took a sharp breath, and swallowed a lump in her throat before answering quietly, "In my bag."

Spencer looked up at the window, sending a message to his team on the other side.

JJ looked up at Hotch, "There was a backpack that the Unsub threw across the room submitted for prints, I'll go check to see if there were any prescriptions in there." She said. Hotch nodded and JJ turned, walking down the hall.

Spencer then looked over at Morgan, who was watching him handle Harper with eyebrows raised. "You aren't going to get anything out of her while she's like this." Spencer said, and Morgan tilted his head down and raised his hands as if to say, 'she's all yours', before moving over to the door and heading out of the room.

Spencer turned his attention back to Harper and searched her face, "Do you want to take a walk?" he asked her, thinking that it may help her calm down if she had a change of scenery.

Harper started nodding profusely. "Yeah, sure, okay, yeah…" she said in quick succession.

Spencer nodded and got to his feet. He made a move to pull his hand away when Harper flipped her hand over and laced her fingers with his. She stood slowly up and turned to face him, but kept her eyes trained to the ground. Spencer noticed how she was still taking deep breaths.

He swallowed and guided her over to the door. She stuck close by him and continued to look at the floor as they passed by Hotch, who shot Spencer a look. Spencer gave him a pleading apologetic look before moving down the hall.

Spencer walked with her through the BAU; she kept close to his side and didn't look around much, but the actions seemed to help her calm down a bit. Harper was squeezing his hand, and he noticed when she would get extra anxious because she would tighten her grip, which would cause Spencer to wince, but he didn't say anything.

He walked with Harper past the bull pen, "My desk is in there with the rest of the team's." He narrated, and would spout off facts as they walked past certain rooms. She would nod slightly and they would move on.

Spencer started moving her down the hall towards the break room. He was starting to wonder how it was taking JJ so long to find Harper's anxiety meds when she appeared at the end of the hall and waved to him. He smiled and nodded to her before turning to Harper.

"Why don't you go in and get something to drink? My teammate just showed up with your medication, I'm going to go grab it."

Harper nodded, "Alright." She said quietly, and looked down the hall towards the break room.

Spencer released her hand and touched her shoulder before moving down the hall towards JJ. Harper walked into the break room and looked around at all the features of the room. Someone had taken the time to label everything, so she was able to find a cabinet that said 'Cups' rather quickly. She actually did want a drink of something, and water sounded really good right now.

She opened the cabinet and looked through all the cups and mugs. Many of them were labeled also, and she felt her gut twist at the idea of making someone upset that she used their things. She felt her hands start to twitch again as her eyes raced around the cabinet or the room for a paper cup. When she didn't find one, she chewed on her lips and clamped her hands together, ready to give up.

That's when her eyes caught a BAU mug on the top shelf. She climbed up onto the counter and grabbed the mug with Spencer's label on it. She slid off the counter and walked over to the water cooler, filling up the cup. When she watched the water fill up, she noticed several coffee stain rings in the cup that let her know it was well-used. She smiled quietly to herself and walked over to the table, sitting down and bringing the cool ceramic to her lips to take a drink.

Spencer walked in a few moments later. He took a few steps towards her, while reading the label on the prescription bottle in his hands. He looked up to talk to her before stopping, brows furrowed as he caught sight of his cup pressed to her lips. "Is that my mug?"

Harper pulled the cup from her mouth and looked up at him as if she did something wrong, "It was the only name I recognized, I'm sorry…"

Spencer's brows went up and he pulled his lips into his mouth to chew on. He smiled slightly and shook his head. "N-no, you can use it."

Harper nodded and set the cup down on the table. Spencer walked over and sat in the chair next to her. He handed her the bottle, which she took and quickly unscrewed the lid, shaking out a pill and taking it.

"Thanks, Spencer." she said softly. Spencer smiled softly at her, even though she still wasn't looking at him. "So, you work with the FBI?"

Spencer nodded, "Yes, with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We're working on the case of the man who attacked you."

Harper's hands tightened around his cup. "I-I still can't-"

"It's okay." Spencer said quickly, "I talked to JJ and my Unit Chief. They postponed your interview for two days. We are going to work the crime scene and work with what we have there, and then we are going to talk to you again after it's all processed. Do you think you'll be able to talk by then?"

Harper nodded, "Yes."

Spencer watched her, sighing and reached over to squeeze her hand, "Harper, it's really important you tell us everything you remember as soon as possible. You're the only person who has seen this guy and you might be the key to catching him."

Harper felt her gut twist and chewed on her lips. She closed her fists, the tips of her fingers brushing over the gauze wrapped around her palms. Spencer glanced down at her hands at the motion; he licked his lips and then chewed on them. "Your apartment is being processed as a crime scene, and being as how the Unsub left you alive, you may be of some importance to him."

She took a shaky breath and nodded at his words. "We are going to set you up in a safe house with supervision, in case he tries to come back for you; or if you remember something and are ready to talk before your interview."

Harper glanced nervously over at Spencer, finally making eye contact with him since they were in the interview room. "Someone's going to be watching me?"

Spencer nodded, "I talked to my Unit Chief to see if I could do it."

Harper felt the twist in her stomach lighten up and a smile tugged at her lips. The motion didn't go unnoticed by Spencer. "You're going to stay with me?"

Spencer looked at her with a small smile and nodded, "And there will be guards outside at all times. I'll have to go to the crime scene tomorrow, but someone will always be there."

Harper frowned, "Please don't call my home that…" she said quietly.

Spencer chewed his lip, picking up that it was uncomfortable for her to think of the place she was supposed to be safe as a crime scene. He saw it often with people who were attacked in their homes. Often, they would never return to live there and want to get rid of it as soon as possible.

"JJ was able to get some of the items of your bag released, but most of it has to stay in evidence." Spencer said and reached into his back pocket, pulling out her cell phone and the copy of Fight Club she bought at the store the other day.

Harper nodded, understanding that it made sense to keep her stuff. "Thank you," she said, reaching over to grab her items.

"Are you ready to go now?" he asked her. She nodded and stood from the chair, bringing the mug over to the sink to rinse out. Spencer stood and walked over to the door, waiting for Harper to walk over, and he led her out.

The drive to the safe house wasn't as long as Harper had expected. She figured that they would take her across town, far away from where she was attacked. But instead, she was taken only a few miles away from the BAU; only a few neighborhoods over from where she lived.

Along the way, Spencer rattled off that the geological profile he was creating for the Unsub was still underway, and all of the crime scenes were scattered across the city showed that there was no specified zone that was safer than any others. So, they wanted to keep her close to the BAU where it was easy for them to get to in case of an emergency.

They set her up in a small two bedroom home, set back further away from the street with lots of trees in the yard. It was pretty compact, quite like her apartment, with a living room, one bathroom, a small kitchen with a table for eating, and two bedrooms down a short hall.

Harper posted up in the bigger bedroom, straight down the hall from the door to the house. There were generic clothes in various sizes in the dresser, and she was able to shower and throw on some sweats and a tee shirt that generally fit. Spencer said he would try to free some of her clothes and other necessities from her home tomorrow. Harper smiled and nodded and turned into the bedroom.

Spencer was in the kitchen, making his third cup of coffee since they arrived, and trying to round up some snacks to offer to Harper to see if she was ready to eat yet. He had heard her soft voice travelling down the hall to him, so he knew she was still awake.

He made his way down the hall and leaned against the doorframe to her room. Harper was sitting up in the bed, completely absorbed in reading her copy of Fight Club. His eyes wandered over her, and his ears picked up on what she was saying. Harper was reading aloud, quietly to herself.

He watched her quietly from the door way for several minutes, noticing as she slouched against the pillows she had propped up, like her body was tired but her mind was just not ready to give up yet. Even though she was slouched against her bed, she still sat cross-legged, a quirk Spencer was starting to notice she did often, and made him smile. He let out a sigh of relaxation.

Harper caught the sound and looked up at him, then smiled. Spencer was taken aback that she noticed him, as he didn't mean to interrupt her. But now that he did, he noticed there was something nagging at him ever since he took her for a walk around the BAU, and he finally had brought it to himself to say it.

"Harper?" he asked.

Harper smiled at him as he moved in to the room further, "Yeah, Spence?"

Spencer hesitated at the nickname. Harper seemed to notice because she gave him a questioning look. Spencer just brushed it off and came to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked down and chewed on his lip, now that he had gone through the motions he was a bit nervous to actually spit it out.

"I'm really glad you're alright." He said, looking up at her.

Harper felt a warm feeling fill her, and her stomach twisted.

"I can't tell you how relieved I am that we're here, and I am not looking at pictures of your body instead." He explained. Harper bit her lip and felt the warm rush to her face at his terrible phrasing. Spencer seemed to realize what he said because he also flushed after noticing her blush. "I-I am really glad you're okay. I don't know why the Unsub left you alive, but I am more than thankful that he did."

Harper's brows crinkled together and she smiled at the awkward words coming from his mouth. She bit her lip and tried not to laugh at the way he was trying to tell her this. Spencer chewed his lips again, and looked down, making a yeesh face. He glanced up at her, "I'm just happy you aren't dead right now."

She smiled softly, "Me too." She said quietly and then added words that crossed through Spencer's head already, "I'm not done seeing where this goes."

Spencer smiled at her, "Are you hungry? I can grab some food out of the kitchen. There isn't much there, but I'll try and grab some more tomorrow."

Harper smiled and nodded, "That sounds good right now, thank you."

Spencer nodded and stood up, moving to the door, "Do you have any allergies I should be aware of?"

She shook her head with a smile on her face over his cute concern. "No."

Spencer nodded and walked out of the room, "I'll be back in a few."

Harper watched him so, a soft smile playing her lips and she looked back down at her book, continuing to read.

Spencer made his way back into the kitchen, thinking about their conversation. He really was happy that she was alive with minimal damage. He felt he was just getting to know her, and that she had to potential to become a close friend of his, the way their chemistry reacted together. He would probably have felt genuine distress if she had been murdered.

He rummaged through the cabinets to pull out some various snacks; gathering together a few choices on texture and taste. He enjoyed the way she didn't make him feel awkward, or strange, for rambling or being too smart or socially awkward. She always just sat quietly, waiting for him to complete his thoughts, and looked genuinely interested in listening to him; unlike the others on his team, who started to drone off when he started to explain statistics or facts, or interrupted him when he started to say something ridiculous.

He was, like she said, curious to see where her friendship would go if it were to progress. She was an interesting person, and he really wanted to get to know her further. He barely had any time to sit down with her and get to know her as a person. He was relieved when Hotch gave him permission to be the one to stay with her, especially after the situation that happened at the interrogation room earlier.

"How did you know she has anxiety?" Hotch asked as he walked up to him and JJ in the hallway outside the break room, along with Morgan.

"And how did she know your name, pretty boy?" Morgan asked, "You got a secret girlfriend or something?"

Spencer swallowed, "W-what? No. I met her at a café I go to, and we had drinks the other day."

"Drinks?" Morgan asked with his eyebrows raised.

"Coffee and tea!" Spencer shouted, throwing his arms open, feeling exasperated at the way Derek's mind always went to the gutter.

"Enough." Hotch commanded, holding his hand up to Derek, "You know this girl. Do you think you can get her to talk to you?"

"Yeah, Reid," JJ said quietly, "You were able to calm her down pretty quick, even without the medication. She feels comfortable with you."

Spencer sighed and glanced back at the break room, chewing on his lips. He looked up at his team, "I don't think she is going to talk to anyone tonight."

Hotch sighed, "We are going to put her in a safe house. We can check out the crime scene tonight and tomorrow, and re-visit her. It should give her time to cool off and get a good night rest."

"A safe house?" Spencer asked, eyebrows crinkling, "Will she be getting protective detail?"

Hotch nodded, "I've arranged for guards and an agent to be with her at all times."

"Can I stay with her?" Spencer asked. This caused everyone to pause and look at him. Hotch's eyebrows raised in an unspoken question and Spencer scrambled for his words, "I knew about her anxiety; how many of our agents are trained to deal with an anxiety attack? Plus, you guys said it, she's comfortable with me. What if she can talk to me and tell me about the Unsub?"

Hotch studied Reid for several minutes and then sighed, "Alright, but I'll need you at the crime scene tomorrow."

Reid nodded, "Thank you."

It was actually a bit of a surprise that Hotch let him stay with her, as he really was useful when it came to this case; but as JJ pointed out, he may be their only chance at her opening up to them about her attack.

It didn't take Spencer too long before he had a suitable selection of snacks and was able to make his way back to the kitchen. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he could no longer hear her reading.

He crept quietly to the door and peered through the doorway. Harper had passed out on her bed, still sitting against the pillows and legs crossed, and book in her hands, still open and laid flat across her stomach. She had clearly passed out from sheer exhaustion while still trying to read. Spencer could not help the bright smile that spread across his face at the cute scene.

He walked over quietly, setting snacks down on the bedside table. He slowly grabbed the book from her hands and pulled it softly from her grasp. Then he grabbed the comforter from the end of the bed and pulled it up around HARPER, hugging it around her shoulders. He set the book down on the bedside table next to the snacks and moved back to the door. He glanced back at her once more time before turning off the light and closing the door behind him.

Harper stirred in her bed, opening her eyes and seeing absolutely nothing. She gasped and shot up in bed, her heart pounding as she looked around the dark room, waiting for her eyes to adjust while she saw devilish shadows running across the dark. She spread her hands frantically around the soft surface of the bed, searching for someone, anyone.

Her hands touched nothing and she started taking heavy breaths as the feeling of being completely alone set in. "Spencer!" she cried out frantically, her voice shaking and tears coming to her eyes.

"Spencer!" she shouted again, this time louder. One of her hands clutched the sheets in a panic while the other reached out shakily trying to find a lamp or her cell phone, anything that would shed some light. She knocked something off the table and it crashed on the floor, making her yelp.

Spencer burst through the door, throwing the light on and holding a gun out in front of him. His eyes scanned the room frantically, looking for the danger. His eyes finally settled on Harper, who had her knees pulled up to her chest and her face buried in it, looking as if she was about to cry. It only took a second for him to realize she was having another attack.

He walked over quickly, setting his gun down on the bedside table and sitting on the bed. Harper jumped and her head shot up when the bed dipped in, letting out small scream.

"It's okay!" Spencer said, holding his hands up, and then moving over to grab her hand and rub her back.

"You were gone!" Harper shouted at him, tears that sprang in her eyes making Spencer feel guilty. Spencer opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words. "I woke up, and you were gone, and I was alone and I couldn't see-"

Harper was starting to ramble quickly, like she did earlier in the interrogation room when she was coming on with an attack. "I couldn't see anything, Spencer, I thought you were gone…"

"I'm right here, Harper." He said softly, rubbing her back. He never had someone with anxiety who had just gotten attacked staying with him before. He didn't think anything of it, but now that he was in this position, he realized that maybe isolating her with the lights off probably wasn't the best; and if it was him and he woke up alone in the dark he would start to freak out too.

He felt another wave of guilt, knowing the exact feeling, because he had the same issues after he came back from being held captive by Tobias Hinkle; waking up in the dark with no one, and feeling he was still stuck in the shed. "I'm sorry, Harper, I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have left a door open or light on or something… Do you want your medication?"

Harper took a deep breath and shook her head, "No. No. No, I don't need it. No. Yes. Yes, I probably do. Yes please."

Spencer nodded and turned, opening the drawer of the nightstand, and noticing she had knocked over a bowl of assorted snack foods onto the floor, causing a big mess. He didn't even notice that he walked over it, crushing some of it into the carpet. He chewed his lips and grabbed the glass of water from the table and handed them both to her.

She unscrewed the cap and downed another pill. Spencer glanced at the time on the clock and stored it in his memory. He memorized the label on her anxiety meds and knew she could only have two a day, so he would have to make sure if she had another attack that he could find another way to calm her out of it. He made a mental note to research more on it later.

He took the bottle and glass from her and set them back down on the table. He watched as she took long deep breaths, trying to stabilize. He reached out and touched her hand again before moving to clean up the mess on the floor.

Harper looked over at him, noticing that he was in a large sheer tee shirt and tartan pajama pants. His hair was crazy tousled and he had thrown his glasses on. Harper chewed on her lips and glanced at the ground, he was clearly sleeping when she woke up. She looked up at him again, heart twisting and warming again at just how adorable and comfortable he looked, and she felt bad for inconveniencing him.

"I'm really sorry, Spence." She said quietly.

Spencer glanced up at her and paused, clearly not expecting her to be apologizing to him for anything. "What for?"

"I, just, everything?" she said, and Spencer could read the nervousness in her voice, "I am being really high maintenance, and I woke you up, and I'm just putting you out and all you are trying to do is help me."

Spencer laughed, which took her aback. "You're being high maintenance? Harper, you were attacked by a murderer, if I didn't think you needed someone to take care of you while you readjusted then I wouldn't be here."

Harper chewed on her lip and looked away. She felt a twist in her gut, and felt bad about everything. She had met this guy who was cute, and smart, and charming, and somehow magically didn't find anything wrong with her; and on the third day she was around him she went full on anxiety monster. This was not the person she ever wanted people meeting, and yet here she was, ruining any chance of a normal friendship with him.

Spencer seemed to sense her discomfort, because he leaned over and grabbed her hand again. "Don't feel bad for having a problem." He said, and Harper looked up at him, "You aren't an inconvenience."

Harper let out a deep sigh, and quirked her mouth to the side. "You're going to start looking at me weird now. They always do."

"What?" he asked, entirely confused, "How could I look at you any different? It's a disorder, Harper, it's not your fault."

She shook her head and looked away, not really believing him. She knew how crazy she could be when she had an attack, and it was not something that people would voluntarily submit themselves to.

Spencer could feel her reservations in what he was saying to her, and he really wished she would just believe him. So he took a deep breath and let her in on the secret. "My mom has schizophrenia."

Harper looked up at him, eyebrow quirked in a question. Spencer chewed his lip and continued, "I took care of her as long as I could, until I had to put her somewhere that they could help her more than I could."

Harper looked at him feeling nervous and Spencer realized he said one of those things that came out wrong, "Not that I think you need to be put away somewhere. I'm saying that because my mom wasn't an inconvenience for me." He looked at the nervousness in her eyes as she was afraid of him judging her, and let out a short sigh, "I probably have it too… I've had some things that happened to me that could be signs."

Harper's face changed from fear to concern, and Spencer felt relieved. Not that she was concerned for him, but that he was able to share something with her that put them back on equal ground. He felt better knowing her could tell her and not be judged; which, he realized, was what she needed too. He smiled at her softly and squeezed her hand before pulling his away. "We all have our problems, Harper. They don't have to drive people away."

Harper searched his eyes, and couldn't find anything that made her feel like he changed the way he saw her. In fact, it seemed like he was closer to her now than he was before, more relaxed now that they knew each other's secrets. She smiled at him softly, and took a deep breath.

She felt the meds starting to kick in, which was a surprise, as they usually took about an hour, so it was either working quicker because she was amped up, or because she was already tired. She shifted in the bed, making her way to lie down; and Spencer got up, grabbing his gun off the table and making a move for the door.

"Spencer?" Harper called, and he turned to look at her. "Can you stay with me?"

Spencer felt that weird warm rush again and he suddenly felt really nervous. But the way she looked up at him, eyes pleading, and after just telling her that he understood the things she was going through, he couldn't find himself saying no. He nodded and set his gun back on the table. He switched off the light, leaving the door open this time, and moved over to the bed, sitting down awkwardly on it and leaning back against the still propped up pillows, and crossing his arms over his chest.

Harper seemed to settle in, rolling onto her stomach and turning her face away from him. She took a deep breath and relaxed. Spencer could feel her trying to release the tension from her body, so he shifted and tried to make himself comfortable. He stiffened up in a jolt when he felt her hand press against his thigh. He looked down at her, eyes still closed and the tension melted from her body. It was as if she needed that physical contact so she could make sure he wouldn't disappear while she was asleep.

The notion made him relax, and he let out a long breath, trying to release the tension from his own body, and made himself comfortable so he could fall asleep. He leaned his head back against the pillows, and closed his eyes.