-14-

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TW/ description of wounds.

Spencer Reid was a little devil. You thought he would be nice to you, considering you'd been stabbed. Everyone was nice to you except that little bitch boy. He knew how desperately you wanted him to get on top of you, he knew how badly you wanted to stand up and wrap your arms around him, and yet he still played with you. Mind games, torture. "Good morning, bitch boy," You sneered as he got out of bed "why are you up so early?" He sighed as he pulled some clothes from the drawer you'd cleared for him. "I'm going back to work today, Y/N." You felt the pit in your stomach grow "unless you want me to stay, Hotch said he'd like me back but I can stay if you need me," He came over, resting a hand on your arm, you shook your head. "No, Spence, go, they need your little genius mind." He smiled ruffling a hand through your hair. You could walk now, with the help of some crutches to distribute your weight away from your abdomen. You were lucky the wounds were nowhere vital or even that bad, the bruises were something else though, big yellow and purple marks that covered your entire stomach. Spencer said he loved them though, kissing them sometimes when they hurt even though there was 'no scientific proof that affectionate gestures towards wounds help them heal' they made you feel a thousand times better.

"Okay, but I'm leaving my cell on in case you need anything, and I won't go on any trips too far out of state, also I've ca-" You cupped Spencer's face in your hands, "everything will be okay, Bitch boy, don't worry," He smiled into your hair as he pulled you into a light hug, avoiding touching your abdomen, slowly guiding you towards the bed, carefully pushing down as he kissed you, he pinned you down, hovering above you like, his torso inches from yours, he kissed your neck, and then he hopped off the bed, pulling a pale blue cardigan on. "Spencer-" You said feeling ghost kisses on your face and neck "Dr. Grant said three weeks of bed rest, and it's only been one so you still have two weeks left, and that means no rigorous activities of any kind until March." He smirked. You rolled your eyes, at least it was cold and grey, most days you weren't missing out on much, except Spencer of course. "Have a good day, pretty boy," You said propping yourself up on your elbows. "I'm not sure exactly when I'll be home, but I'll call you at lunch." He was so sweet, overly caring at times, but never the less, the kindest soul you had ever met.

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Finding things to do on the days where Spence was at work was hard, you couldn't go anywhere, and you had slowly gotten tired of watching Netflix shows all day, you had tried cooking but you had limited mobility, making cooking really fucking hard. Nothing shady had happened but you were ready to get back to work, you were almost healed, the occasional pains and aches, you still couldn't run and or do any rigorous activities with Spencer but you could walk. You had asked your doctor if you could go back to work but both Spencer, who claimed he could have an opinion because 'technically he was a doctor, and your doctor both said you weren't ready. The only thing you had any interest in doing at this point was trying to figure out who attacked you. Spencer and you had gone over everyone you had ever had a problem with, including that blonde fucker, Matt. He hadn't escaped your mind despite the fact it had been months, and part of you continued to tug at the suspicion it was him, you had no evidence but it made the most sense. You had pleaded for Spencer to call his friend Garcia but all that seemed to do was turn him on slightly and make him continuously deny using Federal recourses for a local case. "Sorry, Y/N, I love you very much and I'm dedicated to solving this for you but I'm not looking to get fired." You had rolled your eyes at that, knowing that he broke rules all the time, but you understood, things were shaky at the BAU right now and Spence getting in trouble wouldn't help. 

It wasn't until the letter, sealed in a manilla envelope, written on yellow office stationery that you had truly felt fear, despite the fact you had been fucking stabbed, you hadn't really been scared, you had Spencer, you felt safe in your apartment with it's faded bright furniture and books. The letter, the letter is what made you feel the stomach-churning, mind-numbing fear you had expected to fear as you bled out on your bed. 

Y/N, 

You really thought Spencer wasn't a part of this. He's not what you thought


Those nine words, that one sentence, sent you straight to the floor. You had prayed that whoever did this, the face you knew you knew, was unrelated to the sweet, caring, innocent man you loved. You used the table to help you stand back up, taking a deep breath you walked over to the garbage and threw the letter in. Burn in hell. You thought, Whoever you are. 

A/N I'm sorry for disappearing. I don't really have an explanation but here is chapter 14 and chapter 15 will be up ASAP (today or Tmro)


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