Part 4- On the Other Hand

Quick note: Trigger warning for domestic violence (male victim, female assailant) and major character death.

Dr Spencer Reid walked as briskly and quietly as possible into the bullpen the minute the elevator doors hissed open, his head bowed so that his brown, collar length curls hid his face. He was grateful that he was the first of his team to arrive. He slumped into his swivel chair and slung his satchel under his desk. His mind was a jumble as he thought hard to the night before.

In hindsight, Spencer should have sensed things were about to go south. He returned from the kitchen, two steaming mugs of coffee in his hands. Charlie was seated on the sofa, one leg crossed over the other as she chewed her bottom lip, green eyes glaring at the TV. She flipped Spencer's cell phone over and over. Spencer slowly lowered himself onto the sofa next to her and placed the mugs on the coffee table.

"Charlie? Is everything okay?"

"No. You know fine damned well it isn't."

"What do you mean? What's wrong?"

"Her. JJ. Messaging you again. Apparently Henry has a soccer game coming up. What's her obsession with you?" snarled Charlie, eyes glinting with fury.

"Obsessed? What are you talking about? She's my friend and colleague. Henry's my godson. We talk all of the time."

"Yeah? I bet you'd love to be in her pants too."

"What the-? Charlie, I'm not interested in her like that! We're friends. She's like my sister. Where's this jealousy coming from?" Charlie turned back to the TV and grabbed her mug. She took a sip and grimaced.

"Ugh! You're useless! You can't even make a decent cup of coffee!" she snapped.

"You've never had a problem with my coffee before," mumbled Spencer incredulously.

"God, you're such a pussy!" Spencer flinched beside himself at her words. This was supposed to be the woman he loved and had loved for months. Without warning, Charlie tipped the scalding contents of her mug over Spencer's lap. Spencer sprung off the sofa with a gasp, desperately trying to cool his burning groin. Charlie came to her feet, the empty mug in her hand.

"It wasn't that hot, you big baby," sneered Charlie.

"Are you kidding? It was freshly brewed! Of course it was hot!" exclaimed Spencer, black dress trouser leg clinging to his skin that he knew would be turning an alarming shade of red by the sheer fire burrowing through his flesh. Spencer groaned as the mug connected with his temple, sending him crumpling back onto the sofa. The mug came down hard on his cheekbone, cracking the ceramic. Spencer could feel his cheek begin to swell.

"You're pathetic." Charlie cast aside the broken mug on the sofa beside Spencer and stalked away to the bedroom. With a pounding and spinning head, Spencer made his way to the bathroom. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror of the medicine cabinet. His cheek and temple were reddening.

With a sigh, Spencer exited the bathroom and followed Charlie to the bedroom. She was pacing circles into the maroon carpet. Spencer was not sure where he found the sudden burst of strength, but he swallowed hard and planted his feet firmly on the floor.

"I want you to leave. Now. The jealousy and mood swings are one thing, but assaulting me is another. Not only did you attack me, you assaulted a federal officer," stated Spencer as he tried to steady his voice. Charlie turned slowly and menacingly to face him.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"I want you to leave. Get out and don't come back." Charlie quickly closed the gap between herself and Spencer. Grasping his left wrist, Charlie spun Spencer around and shoved him up against a wall. His injured face pressed into the cold bricks. She twisted his wrist and forced his arm painfully up his back. He could feel his bones moving unnaturally. Spencer gave a yelp.

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

"You! We're done! Over! Get the hell out of my apartment!" responded Spencer, his voice muffled by the wall.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm going. I can't stand being around such a snivelling little weasel." Charlie gave Spencer's wrist another twist, forcing the bones to snap. Spencer let out a choked gasp. Charlie stalked away, gathering her purse and her coat on the way. Spencer cradled his swelling wrist as tears stung his eyes.

Spencer had been dating Charlie Hatherford for several months. She was a barista in a local coffee shop. At first, their relationship had been wonderful. They enjoyed books and science fiction movies together. After a group meal with the BAU members, the jealousy became evident, particularly towards Jennifer 'JJ' Jareau. Spencer could tell by the way she narrowed her eyes every time JJ spoke or even cast a glance in Spencer's direction. She started to monitor his messages and phone calls. JJ sensed something was wrong but Spencer denied that there was a problem.

Spencer caught sight of his own haggard reflection in his powered down computer monitor. Deep purple bruising started just above his eyebrow and followed the natural curve of his eye socket to his cheekbone. The skin at the inner corner of his eye was blackened, stretching across his lower eyelid. His wrist throbbed. How can I avoid people seeing this? There'd be too many questions if I took a sick day. I'm a profiler and certified genius. How did I not see the signs? Over 28.5% of men in the US have experienced physical violence by an intimate partner. Spencer was jarred out of his thoughts by the sound of clicking heels. He glanced past his hair to see JJ approaching her desk, her black purse slung over her shoulder and a takeout cup of coffee in each hand. With a gentle smile, she held out a cup to Spencer. The young doctor reached out with his left hand to accept the cup, wincing at the stab of pain through his wrist.

"You okay, Spence?" asked JJ.

"Sprained wrist. I missed my step and fell down the last few steps from my apartment. I threw out my hands to stop my fall."

"Have you been to the emergency room?"

"No."

"Let me see." Spencer warily glanced up at JJ who held out a hand. Relenting, Spencer pulled back the sleeve of his black blazer. JJ gasped at the sight of the terribly swollen skin that had mottled in shades of black, purple and blue, "Spence? You really need to get that looked at. I think it may be broken." Spencer hastily pulled his arm back and covered his battered wrist. JJ furrowed her brow as she caught sight of his face, "Spence? Is that a black eye?" Spencer felt around his face as though he had no idea what JJ was talking about.

"Black eye? No." JJ leaned over the frosted glass separating their desks and brushed some of his hair out of his face. Her mouth gaped in horror at the bruising and swelling around his eye.

"Spence? How did you get that?"

"I told you. I fell down the stairs." Spencer turned to his in-tray and slid out a manila folder, desperately trying to avoid the questioning gaze of his best friend.

"Don't lie to me, Spencer. First of all, those are not injuries consistent with a fall. Secondly, it's the first excuse used when someone is trying to hide that they have been the victim of violence. Did you get jumped?" Spencer remained silent, folder half opened on his desk. JJ took his silence as a hint, "Was it Charlie?" Spencer visibly flinched at the mention of her name, "Please talk to me, Spence. Did Charlie do this to you?" Spencer felt a lump growing in his throat as he nodded softly, "Come with me." Spencer slowly came to his feet and followed JJ to Derek Morgan's old office that Penelope Garcia sometimes used for some peace and quiet.

Once Spencer had entered the room, JJ softly closed the door behind her and locked it. The room was bathed in a warm orange glow from a small table lamp situated near the window that had the blinds drawn shut. Spencer dropped heavily into the plush couch under the window with a sigh. JJ perched next to him and used her slender fingers to brush the hair out of his face. Spencer's hazel orbs glazed over with pain and embarrassment as he looked JJ in the eye.

"What happened, Spence?" asked JJ, her fingers closing around Spencer's much larger hands. Spencer pursed his lips several times as he struggled to find the words, his eyes fixed to his anxiously bobbing foot.

"I made us some coffee. She was watching Babylon Five. She seemed on edge. She got really jealous when she had my phone and saw the message from you about Henry's soccer game. She tried to insinuate that you're obsessed with me and that I want to, you know, sleep with you. I told her that you're my friend and colleague, that you're like my sister. Then she said I was useless, that I couldn't make coffee. She called me a pussy. She poured her hot coffee on my lap, then called me a big baby. I was trying to cool my groin down and she hit me over the head with the mug. When I fell on the sofa, she hit me across the face with the mug, breaking it in two. She said I was pathetic and walked off," Spencer paused and met JJ's gaze, "I followed her and told her to leave. I told her that not only did she attack me, but she also assaulted a federal officer. I told her again to leave and to never come back. She grabbed my wrist and slammed me into the wall. She twisted my wrist around and forced it up my back. When I said it was over, she twisted my wrist further until I felt it snap." Spencer felt tears gathering on his lower lashes, "I'm so ashamed, Jayje. I'm a profiler. I should have seen the signs. I know the statistics of male victims of domestic violence, I just never saw myself as one."

"Oh, Spence."

"I guess I'm so inexperienced with romantic relationships that I don't really know what to expect from one. I tried my best to be loving and caring. Perhaps it was my fault. Maybe I am pathetic and a pussy-" JJ held up a hand to silence the man.

"No, Spence. Never think that. You're the best man I know. You're sweet, you're quirky. You take enough sugar to rot your teeth in your coffee. But you're far from pathetic. You fought through three months in prison-" JJ pressed a finger to Spencer's lips as he opened his mouth to speak, "Yes, you did some things that you're not proud of, but you came out of that stronger. Did you tell her about everything you've been through?" Spencer shook his head, JJ's finger still silencing him, "If she even remotely knew, she wouldn't think of you as anything other than a hero." Spencer gently moved JJ's hand away from his face.

"Thank you for saying that, but I'm really not."

"You are to Henry and Michael. You are to us." Spencer pondered her words for a moment. As JJ pushed against her jean clad knees to ease herself to her feet, Spencer reached out for her hand. JJ turned, her sparkling blue eyes gazing kindly back at him.

"JJ?"

"Yeah, Spence?"

"Please don't tell the others about this. I fell down the stairs. I don't want them fussing over me." JJ smiled and brushed a lock of golden hair behind her ear.

"Of course. But remember that you work with a team of profilers. They will figure it out, one way or another. And if Garcia finds out, Charlie's life won't be worth living." A smile graced Spencer's lips.

"Thank you, JJ." JJ slid her fingers out of her grasp and unlocked the door, leaving Spencer sitting on the sofa, his hands clasped between his parted knees as he considered their conversation.

Spencer was grateful that his day had ended without anyone prying too much into his injuries. He slowly made his way up the stairs to his apartment, the same stairs he had told the others he had fallen down. With a sigh, he tugged his keys out of his trouser pocket and fumbled with them until he found the key to his door. The lock gave a satisfying click as the door released and swung open. He shrugged the satchel from his shoulder and dropped it to the floor with a soft thud. The sound of steps behind him made Spencer glance over his shoulder to the landing outside of his apartment. He slowly turned, right hand reaching for the revolver on his hip, the fingertips of his left hand brushing against the dark door frame. Spencer felt a sharp pain in his midsection which grew in intensity. He slowly peered down to find the handle of a knife protruding out of his abdomen. He curiously watched as the red wet patch on his lavender button down shirt grew. His hands flew to his stomach, eyes wide with horror. He lifted his head slightly to see Charlie stood in front of him, arms folded across her chest and a smirk on her face. Her ebony hair shone in the dim light filtering through the window above the stairs. Spencer's legs gave way and he dropped heavily to his knees, jostling the blade inside of him. He tried to speak but could only produce a wet cough. A metallic taste grew in his mouth as blood surged over his deathly pale lips and over his chin, dripping steadily onto his shirt. Charlie grabbed the handle of the knife and twisted the blade. Spencer let out a gurgle of agony. His throat filled with the thick, crimson liquid. She tugged the knife back out of Spencer's stomach. Blood gushed from the open wound, trickling between his fingers and streaking over the backs of his slender hands. He fell backwards, hands still desperately trying to stem the bleeding. He choked on the blood continuing to fill his airways. His vision blurred as he stared up at the ceiling.

JJ knew something was wrong when Spencer failed to answer her text message. Her panic grew further when he did not answer her calls. She scrolled through her contacts with her thumb until she reached Penelope Garcia. She dialled the number and pressed the phone to her ear as she chewed her bottom lip in worry.

"You have reached the office of supreme genius. Speak and be heard!" came the chirpy voice of the technical analyst.

"Hey, Garcia. Could you locate Spence's cell phone? He's not answering any of my messages or calls."

"Sure thing." The voice was followed by the rapid tapping on a keyboard, "He's at his apartment, my fine furry friend. Is everything okay?"

"I'm not sure. Just a bad feeling."

"I sure hope our boy wonder feels better soon. He looked like he was in so much pain."

"Yeah, I was trying to call him to remind him that I was going to take him to the emergency room to get his wrist checked over. Listen, I'm going to go over there."

"Okay, give me a call if you need anything. PG out!" The phone went dead with a click. JJ shielded her eyes from the setting sun as she gazed up at Spencer's apartment building. The uneasy feeling grew as she edged her way up the stairs to Spencer's second floor apartment. Her heart jumped into her throat at the sight of a pair of feet clad in converses in the middle of an open doorway. She moved closer to find that the feet were those of her best friend. His left hand lay on the floor next to him, palm facing up. His palm was coated in a thick layer of blood. His other hand rested limply on his stomach. JJ darted to his side and knelt down, her knees resting in the pool of blood he lay in. A dark purple patch spread from the top of his trousers to his chest. His navy silk tie had fallen back on itself and draped over his shoulder. The lower half of his face glistened with the ruby liquid where it had spilled out of his mouth. His glassy eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling as he lay still and unmoving. JJ shook his shoulders.

"Spence? Spence!" There was no response. JJ was met with a stony silence. She quickly fished out her cell phone and dialled.

"911. What's your emergency?"

"I need an ambulance to Capital Plaza Apartments, Hoover Street. Apartment 23. Agent down, I repeat, agent down."

"An ambulance has been dispatched." JJ tossed the phone aside and anxiously pressed her fingers to Spencer's bloody neck. Her chest tightened at the lack of pulse. She placed one hand over the other and locked her fingers over his breastbone and began pumping furiously on his chest, tears streaking her face. Blood continued to surge over his lips as it was forced out with each compression.

JJ was still fruitlessly providing Spencer with chest compressions when the EMTs arrived. They gently coaxed JJ away who watched in horror as they tore open Spencer's shirt and took over doing compressions. A large gaping wound in Spencer's stomach stared back at them. They opened a small yellow case and applied a conduction pad over Spencer's breastbone, the other over the ribs on his left side. EKG wires were attached to his chest, leading to another machine that let out a high pitched whine as the green line remained straight.

"Analysing heart rhythm. No rhythm detected. Shock advised," came the robotic voice from the machine. Spencer's entire body jerked with the jolt of electricity, "No rhythm detected. Shock advised." Spencer's body jerked again, "No rhythm detected. Continue CPR."

For a solid twenty minutes, JJ watched through hot tears as the medics tried to revive her best friend. She had called Penelope who raced over to the apartment and sobbed at the sight of Spencer's bloody form on the ground, wires branching out of his chest, a large mask on his face forcing air into his lungs and tubes sticking out of his arms. The EKG continued to provide a monotonous tone. JJ and Penelope grasped on tightly to each other as the male medic lifted his head and pressed two bloody gloved fingers to Spencer's neck. He shook his head. They knew.

"I'm sorry. There's nothing more we can do. We've been at this for over twenty minutes and we haven't been able to restart his heart," said the medic. He glanced at Spencer's steel watch that was streaked with blood, "Time of death: 21:46."