A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for the wait. This next chapter is a Maizy/Reid focused chapter. So, hope you enjoy (you Team-Reid fans, lol).

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.

Chapter 24:

The silence, it was deafening.

Maizy looked to the driver's seat where Spencer sat, quiet, staring straight ahead. She bit at her bottom lip, at a loss for what to do.

After Spencer had found her with Aaron, in a pretty compromising position by her standards, things had proceeded pretty quickly from there. They'd collected their coats and exited the hotel within minutes of the incident.

Spencer, Maizy was sure, was pretty upset with her. And still, as they'd left the bright lights of the hotel together, he'd taken her hand in his, holding it all the way to the car. He'd even held the car door open for her, helping to make sure her skirt made it inside all right. It came as a surprise, even though it shouldn't have; he was the perfect gentleman. She hadn't killed his chivalry, there was that, at least.

But, all of it had occurred in complete silence.

Spencer made no move to turn on the car even though the key was in the ignition and his hand was perched atop it. They just sat there, in the dimly lit, dreary looking parking lot. And Maizy knew that now was the time to say something. But what?

She glanced tentatively to her left. There was an obvious frown on her boyfriend's face, but other than that small amount of displeasure she couldn't get a read on what he was thinking.

Maizy opened her mouth once, twice, her mouth flopping like she was a dying fish out of water. Coincidentally, she felt just as horrible.

Looking back on the night, it had been pretty amazing. Dancing, hanging out with her new friends, Spencer, all of it, she could honestly say it had been one of the best nights of her life. She only wished it hadn't ended this way exactly. With Spencer so obviously at a loss for what to do with her that he just sat there blankly.

She could safely say she'd ruined the night for him. And for that she was so very sorry.

What should she do? Should she confess to him what Aaron had said to her in that moment before he'd appeared? That he wanted her. Keeping it quiet felt wrong, but, at the same time, how could she tell him that she'd basically said yes to Aaron pursuing her with her silence?

Spencer turned to face her then, catching her off guard. She flinched, startled by the plaintive expression on his face. "Say something, Maizy," he said pleadingly.

All this time he'd been waiting for her to speak up first. Unfortunately, she still hadn't figured out what to say. "Spencer, I… I…"

His frown deepened to a contemptuous level and he averted his gaze once again.

Maizy felt him slipping away as the seconds ticked by, as she attempted to form a coherent sentence.

You're losing him, Maizy, she scolded herself. For once in your life, do something. Make a decision that isn't the easy choice.

She didn't have a lot of time to contemplate what she was about to say next, but she thought it was the right thing to do, all things considered.

"Spencer," she began, saying his name so decidedly, with a finality that hurt her heart. He re-faced her, his beautiful features marred by his hesitant expression. "I think—I think maybe we should take a break."

Again, she hadn't had much time to think this decision through, so she was totally unprepared for the stricken look to overtake his face. It was painful to see.

"What?" he exclaimed abruptly. "Why?"

She sighed, following it up with a deep breath. She opened her mouth to explain but found no words.

Why, indeed? Maizy thought wryly.

She'd thought it was the right thing to do. She'd thought, this was it, that she'd hurt him—though, unintentionally—one too many times. Of course he'd want to end things with her.

Doesn't he?

Now that she really looked at him, maybe this hadn't been the best course of action.

"Maizy?" he prompted urgently.

Maizy decided to go with that line of reasoning, the hurt she'd caused him, because it was the truth and the sole reason why she suggested it.

"I keep hurting you, Spencer, that's why," she answered sadly.

He shook his head, bewildered. "This isn't—this isn't what I want. Is it—Do you want this?"

She gazed into his hazel eyes, feeling tears prick at the corners of hers. No! I don't want to lose you, her brain screamed selfishly. Instead, she said, "I want to stop hurting you." I want to stop hurting him, she added in her head, punctuating each statement with a shake of her head.

As if reading her mind, he asked, "Is this about Hotch?"

"No, no—Maybe a little," she replied, wincing.

This was so hard. Both men held a special place in her heart. And both men continued to be casualties of her indecisiveness. She thought, just now, that if she broke it off with Spencer and decided to keep her distance from Aaron it would be for the best for the two men. But, Spencer didn't seem to be taking the news the way she thought.

The pain on his face intensified all the more with her honesty. "Do you want to be with him?"

"No!" she exclaimed quickly. Then, because she wasn't a liar, amended, "I don't know."

Spencer's face broke into a grimace. "Do you want to be with me?"

"Yes!" she breathed out. It was the truth.

He sighed. "Well, that's something at least," he mumbled to himself. He turned to face her, a new intensity in his gaze. He looked… more determined than ever. "Well, I do know. I want to be with you. I know that I—I care about you, deeply."

She felt his hesitation acutely. Somehow she knew that 'care' wasn't exactly what he wanted to say. He may want to be with her, but he was still guarded, protecting himself just in case. Maizy didn't blame him.

"So, what do you want to do?" she asked tentatively. Afraid he'd agree to the break-up, but sure there was nothing else to do.

"Give me a chance, Maizy," he told her.

"A chance?" she echoed. "I am, Spencer, I swear. I'm giving you more than a chance. I wasn't lying when I said I want to be with you.

"The thing is, when I'm with you, alone or surrounded by your friends, I know—I just know that you're the one I want. But then, Aaron—" She stopped abruptly; how did she explain how the older man made her feel without hurting the man by her side even more than she already had?

"But then, he comes around and it's like you get tunnel vision," Spencer finished.

She looked down into her lap, ashamed, not of her feelings, but of what her feelings were doing to the two men she cared most for.

"I wish I knew what you felt for him," he said quietly.

She looked to him. Did he want to hear the words? She opened her mouth to speak. "I—"

"On second thought…" he said wryly.

So, she asked again. "What are we going to do?"

Spencer took her hands in his, forcing her to turn her body and face him head on. "I care about you and I want you. I don't want to break up."

Bewildered by his declaration, she repeated, "What do you want to do?"

He let go of her just as suddenly as he'd taken ahold of her. Spencer turned on the car, sitting back in his seat. "I want to go home."

Dejected, she thought he was going to say something else. "Ok… if you can drop me off at home…"

His chuckle caught her by surprise. "Maizy," he said, forcing her to look at him, warily "I want you to come with me."

"Oh!"

"But only if that's what you want."

Somehow, barely even confronting the subject of Aaron, they were all right?

Still in a daze, she replied, "I want to."

If the smile he gave her was anything to go by, then that was the first right thing she'd said since entering the car. She was glad to make him happy.

"All right, then…" He put the car in reverse and backed out of the spot. Switching it to drive, he paused to look at her once again. "Ready?"

"Ready."

"Sorry about the elevator," Reid said sheepishly when they finally reached the landing of the fourth floor.

Maizy smiled at him warmly, her first smile since earlier in the evening. The previous, Hotch-induced tension had dissipated. Only to be replaced by his own showing-her-his-apartment-for-the-first-time tension. Combine that with what could potentially happen that night, and yeah, he was a nervous wreck.

He knew she could sense his nerves; to her credit, they didn't appear to be getting to her. Maizy seemed calm, serene and her happy smile helped to set him at ease slightly.

They paused at the top of the steps to look at each other. Maizy stepped forward to cup his cheek in the palm of her hand, punctuating the gesture with a sweet kiss. He inhaled deeply, memorizing the moment. To think he'd almost lost this, lost her. He could hardly stand thinking about it. No, he wouldn't just sit back and give her over to Hotch, not without trying, not without fighting for her.

"It's all right, Spencer," she murmured against his lips. And then she pulled back, taking his hand. "Come on." She tugged them forward despite not knowing which apartment was his.

Reid guided them the short distance to his door. He pulled his keys from his pocket, only dropping them once before finally getting the key in the lock. He really needed to calm down before he embarrassed himself further. Thankfully, Maizy chose to ignore the stumbling and continued to look on with that soothing smile.

Door finally unlocked, he announced, "This is it," as he pushed it open and stood off to the side so Maizy could have a look.

She stepped forward slowly, almost as if she couldn't believe she was here now. He didn't blame her, he couldn't believe it either. The last time he'd had a girl in his home, one who wasn't friend or colleague was… well, never. Of course he'd been on dates before, but none had ever led back to his place. He was in uncharted territory now.

Maizy eyed him tentatively, her dark eyes asking for permission. He stepped forward, placing a hand at the small of her back, gently guiding her inside.

Across the threshold now, he turned for a moment to shut the door behind them. Then turned back around to hear Maizy's breathy, "Oh!" She'd stepped into the living room and he could see that her eyes were darting to and fro, taking in every square inch. Reid stepped up behind her, placing his hands on her bare shoulders. He was super pleased when she unconsciously leaned back into his touch.

As he waited for her to say something, he looked around, seeing the scene from her eyes. Books! Everywhere! Saying he had a lot was an understatement. Practically every flat surface was home to a sizeable stack, which was bad because he had wall-to-wall bookshelves that were being sorely neglected. Reid couldn't help it, he'd used them at first, but then he found it tedious putting away a book he would only need again later.

But it wasn't just the books that were making the room a mess. Interspersed between the stacks, here and there, were used coffee mugs. He stared at them now, perplexed. Hadn't he cleaned up? Only a second too late did he realize that that had been the week before. Whoops.

Maizy turned in his arms to bestow him with a grin that put him at ease. Yeah, he was still a little embarrassed by the state of things, but she didn't seem to mind, so that diminished the sheepish look off his face.

She left his grasp, walking to the nearest pile on one of his end tables. Maizy picked up the topmost book, flipping through the pages. Reid knew it to be the Quantum Physics book he'd almost taken to Rossi's barbeque—he had some kind of system, at least.

"It's like a library in here," she commented. He took it as a compliment. He knew that the library was one of her favorite places. "A messy one," she amended with a smirk.

Reid smiled back. "Yeah, I've been meaning to clean up."

Maizy took in a few more books before refocusing her attention back on him. "Show me around?" she wondered out loud.

"A tour?" he questioned, his voice squeaky all of the sudden. She nodded. "Ok…" He closed the distance between them, shyly taking her hand. With his free hand, he waved it across the room, from the wall-to-wall bookshelves, to his comfy dark-brown leather couches, to his really dusty TV in the corner. "This… is the living room."

She nodded her head, making a show of letting her gaze travel the same path of his hand, taking in everything. "Living room, check. Quite lovely." Maizy smiled.

Turning them on spot, he mimicked his movements, this time encompassing the kitchen. It was open to the living room, a good sized marble-topped island separating the two. The fixtures were all high-end—his only splurge, really, in the apartment—but other than that it was a kitchen. White cabinets, stainless steel appliances.

"Wow," Maizy breathed out, pleased. She let go of his hand and entered the kitchen. She let her hands trail over every surface; surprisingly, the kitchen was quite clean, proving that he wasn't cleaning-challenged, as the living room indicated. "Do you cook a lot?" she asked.

He winced. "Not really. The job's so go-go-go, you know. I don't have a lot of time. But my mom loves it. The kitchen, I mean."

"Your mom?" she inquired.

He'd only ever mentioned her the one time, when Maizy had phoned him from Berryville needing a friendly ear, and only mentioned she was from Las Vegas. He was good at avoiding talking about his parent's; as good as she was about hers. But, instead of deflecting he said, "Yeah, she likes to cook when she visits. So, I made sure to get a place with a really nice kitchen. So she can enjoy it when she's here."

"That's very sweet. Does she visit often?"

"Not as often as I'd like." He sighed. The home she stayed in allowed her visits, but they were never for very long.

"Spencer, I didn't—" she started, sensing his sudden melancholy.

He shook his head. "It's all right. I just miss her, you know?"

She nodded solemnly. Reid knew she did, what with her dad's death a few years back.

Maizy turned her back to him suddenly, slipping on the apron Garcia had hung on the oven door for him. She re-faced him, grinning from ear to ear. "I'd like to cook for you here, sometime…" she offered.

Grinning, he rounded the island to join her in the kitchen. "In that dress?"

She put her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. "Or, you know, something else."

Reid kissed her then; he couldn't help it, she just looked too adorable in apron and evening gown. With the kiss he expelled the remnants of his nervous energy and now all that remained was a sense of excitement.

Pulling back a few moments later, they both had to practically gasp for air. It was one of their deeper kisses.

A prelude to something more?

"Wow," Maizy said once again, this time in awe of the kiss. He was pleased to see her look a little ruffled, lips swollen, eyes gleaming. She looked thoroughly kissed.

As her chest heaved for breath, she asked, "Is there more?"

For a second he thought she was asking about his kisses, but a raised eyebrow later and he knew she was talking about the rest of his apartment.

"Oh right, the apartment," he answered.

She giggled. "Yes, the apartment."

Without words, he tugged her back around the island, moving towards the hallway. "This is the hallway," he commented unnecessarily, keeping with the gimmick.

It wasn't a long hallway. It contained a total of four doors, one of which was to a small linen closet. The others were to his guest bathroom, guest room—where his mom mostly stayed—and the master bedroom. He showed her his room last.

"This is my room," Spencer said, opening the door for her.

Maizy slowly stepped inside and looked around, her gaze travelling everywhere but to the conspicuous object at the center of the room.

The room itself was large; the walls painted a warm mocha color that somehow fit Spencer. There was no closet in sight, but there was a series of drawers and wardrobe doors built into the far wall, made of an espresso colored wood. There was one door to one side of the built-ins. It was slightly ajar, showing an average-sized en-suite done in the same colors as the kitchen.

Maizy dragged her gaze back into the room, continuing her perusal. She noted the colorful abstract artwork hanging above the object in the center of the room.

Spencer caught her staring at it. "I don't know what it's supposed to represent. To me, it's how I feel my brain works sometimes. A million different things at once," he confessed.

With that bit of new info, she eyed the painting more carefully. It was a jumble of colors and shapes in different sizes. But, upon closer inspection, there was some organization to it, some method to its madness. A cluster of different blues here, different sizes of stars there—she appreciated the insight into his mind. Even though she loved listening to Spencer tell her about all sorts of things, she never pretended to understand fully just what made him tick. This didn't explain it either, but it was a glimpse into what made him who he was.

"It's lovely," she stated genuinely, earning her an affectionate look.

She continued to inspect the room, aiming her gaze lower and to the right of the object. The bedside table had yet another heap of books on top of it. Not to mention the several stacks piled around the lone armchair in another corner of the room. Spencer's book collection put her own substantial one to shame.

Finally, when there was nothing else left in the room for her eyes to explore, she allowed them to land on the previously avoided object in the middle of the room: The bed.

It was just an ordinary bed. Queen-sized from the looks of it with fluffy looking pillows at the top. It was covered in a cheery blue and green plaid comforter. It was nice. And, despite her sudden nervousness at seeing the thing, it did look all together inviting.

Taking a deep breath, she gave herself a bit of a mental pep-talk. You can do this, Maizy. You want to. Spencer cares about you. Look at him… She did as told, turning away from the bed to face the man she cared about.

He was watching her; somehow she knew that his gaze had been unwavering. Still, there was no pressure in it, no expectations, just pure… love for her.

That caught her completely off guard. And for a second she had to avert her gaze. Maizy wondered what he saw when he looked at her, confused as she was by all her jumbled up feelings.

Returning her dark eyes to his, she was surprised by how the look on his face hadn't dithered. And for that moment, for that night she would allow herself the luxury of basking in that new-to-her feeling of being loved.

The voice, that was starting to sound suspiciously like Bree, was back in her head. Spencer loves you. He'd never hurt you. All he wants is to take care of you, Maizy.

Her mental cheerleader was right. In the time she'd known Dr. Spencer Reid, he'd been nothing but good to her.

Making her decision, she walked the few short steps towards the bed.

She sat down on the edge. Bouncing there for a moment, she spared a glance at Spencer; the same no-pressure vibe emanated from him.

"It's… comfy," she said awkwardly. Maizy instantly wanted to hit herself over the top of her head at her cheesy remark. But save for the slight smirk at the corners of Spencer's lips, he didn't comment on its inane-ness.

Without words, he came to sit next to her. She looked down between them, seeing that he kept a hand's breadth between them, keeping his distance for her sake. She wondered how he knew this wouldn't be easy for her. Had she ever hinted at her past? She didn't think so. The only people who may have had an idea were Bree and Aaron.

Maizy gave herself a mental shake. No, she would not let herself think about the other man. Not now.

"Are you all right?"

She looked up to see that he was watching her concernedly. Maizy didn't want that. Didn't want him to think that right there wasn't where she wanted to be.

She'd already made her decision; it was now time to take the plunge.

"I'm…" she began, scooting over, closing the distance between them, and turning her body towards him. "… more than all right."

As if for the first time, she reached a hand out, touching him, letting her fingers skim across his forehead, smoothing out any worry lines she'd caused, down along his cheekbone and the roughness of his now stubbly jawline. She let her thumb tease at his lower lip, exploring in a way she'd never allowed herself before. His lips parted and she felt his harsh, shuddering breath tickle at her thumb.

Spencer took hold of her wandering hand then, bringing it palm open to his lips. A searing kiss there had her heart suddenly racing. He brought their still entwined hands to sit innocently on top of his thigh. He took a moment to look her in the eye, to whisper her name questioningly. After all this, he was still asking her for permission to proceed. It was achingly sweet.

Her answer to his question was to inch forward ever so slowly, angling her head to right, readying herself for his lips.

Spencer touched his mouth to hers in a sweet kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him know she was ok, that she wouldn't break. In turn, he gathered her up in his arms, pulling her closer. And the kiss—she thought she'd known passion before—the kiss changed into something hotter, sultrier. Dark chocolate to its previous vanilla-ness.

Maizy enjoyed it, liked the change. She wanted this. To show Spencer just how much she cared for him. After all, this—sex—was normal. Except, just thinking the word made her old anxieties flare up.

She tried her hardest to push them away, to re-lose herself in the sensations—his kisses, gentle caresses of his hands across her arms, down the length of her back. But it was a losing battle.

Somehow during their kisses, Spencer had managed to undo the corset ties on her dress and the beautiful gown had slipped down around her waist, revealing the top of her strapless slip.

Suddenly Maizy was thrust right back into eleven years ago. To a night she never ever wanted to relive.

When Spencer's hand played with the hair at the nape of her neck an image of Taylor doing the same thing came unbidden to her mind's eye. All of the sudden she wasn't kissing Spencer anymore, but it was her step-father's lips forced upon her own.

No, she thought frantically. No, not again!

She wrenched her lips from the man's, pushing at his chest as she yelled, "No, please! No! Stop!"

Maizy scrambled out of his grasp, tripping over something in her haste to get away, a sharp pain shot through her leg, but she didn't care, she had to get away. She stumbled over to the armchair; climbing into it, she curled herself into a protective ball.

In her self-created cocoon, she struggled to listen over her harsh breathing. Listening for Taylor's pursuit, wondering why he wasn't on her already. She didn't dare look up, afraid she'd see her mother's lifeless eyes staring back at her.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, she silently chanted, rocking herself back and forth. Please let him be gone, please, please, please…

"Maizy… Oh God, Maizy," she heard a voice say through the fog that was her brain. It sounded a million miles away and absolutely nothing like Taylor's slimy voice.

The police? she thought hopefully.

"Maizy," the voice continued gently. "Look at me, please."

Reid crouched on the floor before his reading chair at a complete loss as to what just happened. One minute everything was fine, they'd been kissing. They were ok. Maizy had seemed into what they were doing, or so he'd thought. And then the next, she was screaming for him to stop. What had he done?

Because of her abrupt and unexpected reaction, he'd inched towards her ever so slowly, not making any sudden movements. He sure didn't want to spook her further.

Now he stared at her, curled in his chair in a tight ball, wondering what he should do. Her breath was ragged, reaching hyperventilating levels and he could see her shin was bleeding from where she'd fallen against his bed after getting tangled in her dress. He needed to do something, clearly, but what?

Right now all he could do was talk to her. Talk to her, try to calm her back down from the ledge.

"Maizy," he said gently, voice barely louder than a whisper; she flinched at the initial sound of his voice. "Oh God, Maizy…"

He paused, waiting, and was relieved when her breathing rate decelerated slightly. She was listening, now to get through to her.

"Maizy, look at me, please," he urged ever so carefully.

She didn't. Didn't even move. He tried again. "It's me, Spencer. Honey, look at me, everything's all right… you're safe."

"Spencer?" he heard her murmur softly before she looked up tentatively. It scared him to the core that there was no recognition whatsoever on her face as to whom he was. Where'd she go? And, more importantly, what had he done to trigger her lapse in reality?

Still, he was thankful that she'd at least acknowledged that he was there.

Some emotion must have seeped through onto his face because she was cringing back against the seat all over again. Reid smoothed his features back into an expressionless mask. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" he murmured, pulling back as well.

The look in her eye—panic—eased a bit as she continued to focus on him.

"Do you remember who I am?" he asked cautiously. She uncurled slightly from her shell, really looking at him.

She nodded. "Spencer," she said more assuredly.

Oh, thank God! "Good, good," he said, breathing out a relieved sigh. "Do you remember where you are?"

Maizy's eyes darted around the room, taking in everything from the messed up bed-spread to her dress on the floor. He thought he saw the panic resurface in her eyes, but when her gaze found him again he could see the lucidity returning to her.

She nodded again, but this time a sob tore from her lips. "Oh God, Spencer, I'm so sorry…" She burst into a fit of tears that were, honestly, preferred over her previous state.

She was sorry? He stared at her incredulously. "Maizy, honey, you have nothing, absolutely nothing to be sorry for."

He held out a hand to her and she took it, launching herself out of the chair and down into his lap.

She allowed him to hold her tight and as far as he was concerned he was never ever letting her go.

Maizy cried into his shoulder for a long time. He held her, rocking her gently in his lap, whispering words to her that he couldn't remember.

Eventually, the sobs died down, her breathing evened out, and she relaxed in his embrace. He thought she'd fallen asleep. But suddenly she pulled away from him, wiping at her eyes as she stood up.

"I've got to—I need to—" she began as she searched the room. "Where's my dress?"

He sat there, bewildered, not sure what was going on. She located her dress and seemed to hesitate for a moment, looking at it as if wondering if she should put it back on or not.

"Maizy?" he called out her name, wanting her to stand still for a moment.

"I… I need to go home," she cried. "I need to go."

"Maizy, look at me," he said.

She tilted her head in his direction but her eyes wouldn't meet his. When he didn't say anything, she draped the dress over her arm. She was halfway to the door before he got his normally quick brain going.

"Sit down, Maizy, breathe for a second, please. You're scaring me," he said. Though, truth was, she'd already frightened him a good deal. This was just icing on the what-the-hell cake.

Her eyes darted from the door back to his general vicinity—still not meeting his gaze. And then with yet another sob she collapsed onto the edge of the bed, burying her face in her hands.

"I'm… I'm so embarrassed!"

She was pale and looked exhausted. How was he ever going to make her feel better?

What the hell just happened?

Maizy knew she'd just made a fool of herself. At least that much was clear to her. But with her head in her hands, she was still trying to sort out all the details.

At the moment, all she knew was that one minute she'd been enjoying a kiss with Spencer and then the next she was sobbing into his shoulder.

Of course she could guess at what happened and that had her cringing in embarrassment.

"Don't be," she heard Spencer say. "Never be embarrassed, especially in front of me."

That last bit of his statement had her curious enough to peek over her fingertips. What did he mean?

He'd moved from his spot on the floor into the armchair. He eyed her carefully, probably wondering if she were going to attempt another bolt for the door. God…

But, she'd calmed down, safe in reality once again. She knew she was in no danger from the young doctor.

"I've been through something too, Maizy," he confessed. "Though, I can't pretend to know what your something is." He paused then, and Maizy realized a moment too late that he was giving her a chance to explain what that 'something' was. He sighed and went on when she didn't speak. "A few years ago we were on a case in Atlanta. A man—Tobias Hankel—was killing people he'd watched and deemed 'sinners'."

"Ok…" she said slowly, waiting, knowing that there was a good reason why he was telling her about this particular case now. A faraway look overtook his features and a flash of pain passed through his eyes. And suddenly she didn't like herself very much for doing this to him, making him relive whatever pain he'd so obviously gone through. "You don't have to tell me, Spencer."

His eyes met hers abruptly, grounding him once again. Recognition passed in his light-colored eyes and he shook his head.

"Hotch asked JJ and I to go talk to Tobias about something he'd apparently witnessed. At the time, he didn't—we didn't," he paused to take a deep breath. "We didn't know that Tobias Hankel was actually the guy we were looking for."

Her eyes widened in fear. "You were at the killer's home?"

He gave her a grim look. "It's part of our job, being thrust into dangerous and unexpected situations. We're trained for it. Only this time… something went wrong. JJ and I got separated… She got attacked by some pretty vicious dogs—"

"Oh God," she gasped out.

He nodded grimly. "Yeah, and Hankel was able to capture me."

"Capture you?"

He didn't respond. To her surprise he began to take off his shoe and sock. "Spen—cer?"

And then he held his foot out to her. She could see a series of scars across the instep of his foot. She gasped, in pain for him. "Tobias had severe dissociative identity disorder. One 'personality' would do this to me. Beat me. Another gave me dilaudid."

"The drug," she said in shock. She knew about the narcotic. Not a lot. She'd read about it in one of her chemistry classes in school. All she knew was that it was a derivative of morphine, used to treat moderate to severe pain. And that it could be highly addictive.

Spencer nodded, not a bit surprised that she knew what it was. "Yes."

The faraway look was back. Maizy ached to go to him, to comfort him as he did her, but she was still so shaken that she remained where she was.

"I had to kill him," he said bluntly. He re-met her eyes. "I was able to get his gun. I had to shoot him."

"Of course you did, Spencer," she tried to rationalize what she thought was the pain of taking another's life.

But, then he said, "He was making me dig my own grave… I could hear the others, they'd found me… Somehow… I can't remember exactly, I got his gun. I shot him."

He seemed lost in the moment and she wanted to make sure he knew that that was in the past and that the here and now was a lot more pleasant. She wanted to ground him like he did for her when things got a bit indiscernible. Maizy moved over to the floor next to his chair. She took his hand and he looked at her gratefully.

"I took the drugs he had in his pocket when no one was looking. I was already feeling the pain of my injuries and, I guess, some withdrawal symptoms… I became an addict, Maizy."

She gazed up at him sadly. She could imagine how painful that was to him. That someone with as much brainpower and knowledge as him could become so dependent on a harmful substance.

"You're human, Spencer," she replied, giving his hand a squeeze.

A light flashed in his eyes and he sighed out the tension that had built in his body over the course of his story. He appreciated the sentiment.

He held his other arm out for her questioningly, asking her to join him in the chair. She stood up and he gathered her in his arms, hugging her close, cradling her gently across his lap. Spencer loosened his hold on her and she tucked her head into the crook of his neck, his arms going around his waist.

They settled in like that, the atmosphere calm and serene now. She knew she needed to tell him what had happened to her. She knew she needed to explain herself. But, she also knew that it would be the most difficult thing she'd ever do.

Maizy took a deep breath and opened her mouth to say something. Spencer was quicker.

"You don't have to tell me, Maizy, not now," he said.

She tilted her head up and to the side so she could see his face. His forehead was creased with lines of worry. For her, she realized. "I didn't tell you my story so then you'd have to tell me yours. I want you to know everything about me, the good and bad. And I'd like to know everything about you. I hope that someday you'll feel comfortable enough to tell me what happened. But that time doesn't have to be now."

She turned in his arms to face him. A feeling she couldn't pinpoint blooming in her chest. "Spencer, I…" she began, looking into his accepting eyes. She wanted to tell him. She did. "I… Thank you."

But in the end the out he'd offered was just too tempting to pass up. Maizy would tell him, eventually, but she felt so emotionally frazzled that she was afraid she'd lose control once again. She wanted to be calm and rational when she told him her most painful secret.

To his credit, he didn't look disappointed or let down by her avoidance he just looked like he loved her.

"Why don't we clean this up," he said, a hand hovering above the cut on her shin. "And then watch some Doctor Who, ok? What series do you feel like watching?"

She smiled. "Any with the tenth doctor," she offered up predictably.

That's it for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed. It's one of my favorites so far, for sure.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading and to those who reviewed the last chapter: nebula2; jmdernier; TheMysteriousGeek2345; CMLove; and Annber03.

I'd like to say I'll update soon, but… Ok, I'll say it, I'll update soon. Lol.

See ya!