𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 [spencer reid]

20. outlet

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝟏𝟏:𝟑𝟖 𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟕𝐓𝐇, 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐒 away from the highly anticipated birthdays of Francesca Griffin and Spencer Reid. Appropriately, the secret couple planned to spend the night together and ring in their special day at midnight. Spencer offered to host, elated to set up his living room with cozy blankets and snacks. When Francesca arrived earlier that night, she wore a bright smile and held a mini ice cream cake. The words Checka and Pretty Boy were sloppily piped in icing across the top of the dessert, Francesca proud to announce that it was done by her. She added it to the collection of fall snacks Spencer had gathered, and with t-minus twenty-two minutes until midnight, they began to dig in.

Francesca rose from her comfortable position on Spencer's chest to slam down her slice of cake. Spencer, still lying on the couch, savored his piece. He was more interested in intently watching the girl as she managed to get chocolate frosting on her nose with every aggressive bite. As she finished her slice, Francesca noticed the boy's eyes on her, so she held her empty plate up shamelessly. "What?" she muttered, mouth half full. "I like ice cream."

Spencer breathily snickered, tapping his nose with his pointer finger. "You've got a little something."

The brunette crossed her eyes in attempts to see what Spencer was indicating. "What is it?"

Spencer sat upright, legs circled around Francesca's body and face inches from hers. He took his napkin and gently plucked the icing glob from her nose. "There you go."

"Hey!" Francesca playfully complained. She ran her finger through the leftover frosting on her plate, taking a clump of pink piping that had belonged to her name and wiping it across Spencer's cheek. "I personally enjoy frosting on my face."

"I'm positive icing does not benefit the pores," Spencer laughed, fighting a statistic from blurting out.

Francesca, blissful, delicately placed a hand to the side of his face opposite the frosting. She swiftly pecked his other cheek, freeing it of some of the icing. "Hm," she pondered, licking her lips. "Better?"

Spencer nodded, cheeky smile forming. "I would say so."

The two put their respective plates down on the floor. Francesca squinted to read the time on the TV's DVD player, making out a faint red 11:47. "I can't believe we have the same birthday. It's literally insane."

"I'm happy to actually have a genuinely good birthday," Spencer admitted with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Francesca looked at him longingly. "What do you mean? You haven't had a good birthday?"

Spencer shrugged, posture sinking. "Not really one that I can remember. Every birthday since I've been at the B.A.U. has been associated with a murder case, and with my memory, I'll never forget them."

This wasn't the first time Spencer had expressed sadness over his job, and Francesca didn't fail to notice. She figured that asking him about that would be a touchy subject, but she was curious now more than ever. "Hey," she softly spoke, "can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

Francesca bowed her head. "Are you okay?"

Spencer was bewildered. "What do you mean? Of course I'm okay."

"No, I mean really okay." The boy was still giving her a confused expression, so she elaborated.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but it seems like you never really talk about your feelings about all this FBI work. It's heavy stuff to deal with, and just after being there for one case, I was mentally exhausted. I can't imagine what's going on in your mind, and I want you to be able to talk about it if you need to."

Spencer was only ever surrounded by his team members, all physically and emotionally strong people that never expressed the need to vent. Mental health talks did come in the form of unofficial therapy sessions with Hotch, but aside from that, it was an unspoken rule that emotions were just that – unspoken. Yes, his team could detect when something was up with him, but he tried hard to avoid catching their attention. He wasn't good with feelings, but just because he wasn't doesn't mean that he felt nothing at all.

His voice was choppy and he didn't know how to properly answer the girl. "I–I guess things get, uh, tough. I don't like to think about it."

"But you should, Reid," Francesca took his hand in hers. "You can't bury this stuff."

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling comforted by Francesca's calming touch. "It...it is difficult," he whimpered. "I'm still getting those headaches, so that doesn't help. I'm just worried...worried that I'm desensitized to it all. Like if one day it just breaks me."

"It will not break you," Francesca squeezed his hand. "You are so strong, and whenever we're together, I know for a fact that you're present and emotional. You don't need to worry about losing your empathy or anything like that."

"Look, I don't like bringing it up with you because you're a breath of fresh air," Spencer confessed, making eye contact with her. "I know I've told you this before, but you're my outlet. Knowing I get to leave that violent world to come be with you is what keeps me sane. Before I met you, it was like I was...drowning...in everything. There's only so much I can take, you know?"

Francesca's right hand broke from his hold as she moved it to his head. She ran her fingers through his curls. "I know," she assured, even though she couldn't comprehend the pain he felt in the slightest.

Spencer wrapped his hand around her right wrist, pausing her hand's strokes. "Can you...promise me something?" Francesca nodded.

"No matter what happens with us. No matter what life has in store. You'll be here. I'll be here for you, of course, but I need you, Checka. Really."

Francesca felt tears pooling in her eyes as his own pleaded for her. That wasn't a memorized textbook line. He hinted at it – believing in fate. She pursed her lips to hold back the waterworks. "Yes. Always. I promise."

Spencer instinctively pulled her into a hug, burying his head in the crook of her neck. They fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, as cliché as that may sound. Their compatibility made them hesitant to pull away. However, once they did, Francesca took a peek at the TV again.

"Hey," she crookedly smiled.

"Yeah?"

Francesca closed the gap between their lips, kissing the boy sweetly.

"Happy birthday, Reid."

.・。.・

𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒!
→ i'm SOBBING okay
i love them so much