Hold My Girl (spencer reid x oc) ✅

scratch

He had been pacing back and forth, anxiously awaiting for the arrival of the team. We had gotten word that they were on their way to the hospital. We also got the horrible news that Stephen didn't make it. I didn't know him for long, but he was great to work with and was such a big help these past 3 months.

Suddenly, the EMTs came wheeling in JJ and Rossi. "You okay?" Spencer asked JJ, holding onto her wrist as they wheeled her into her room. She was a worried mess, asking for Will and making sure that someone was going to call Monica, Stephen's wife. Luke came in and ushered us into Rossi's room. He looked like he was in pain, but I don't think he cared too much about himself at the moment.

"You," he directed towards Luke, "grab my keys from my pants pocket. You," he looked towards Spence, "you're back on the team."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Has the director approved it?"

"I'm calling the shots now, I'll take the heat."

Spence wanted to help, he always does, but we both knew that this would be difficult for him to manage when he's only been out of prison for a few hours. Luke came back with the keys.

"There's a little one to a file cabinet in my office. Inside, there's Chicago Bears season tickets."

What?

"You call Matt Simmons, I promised him those tickets."

We all had confused looks on our faces. "They probably gave him something in the ambulance," I whispered to the two. "I'll get a nurse-"

"Just shut up and listen," he cut me off. "Look, Emily is missing, Stephen is dead. As for you three assclowns, you'll do me the courtesy of following my orders."

"But your orders aren't making sense," Luke questioned.

"Just follow my orders and then I'll go into surgery."

The three of us walked out of his room, leaving more confused than when we went in.

"This has nothing to do with tickets," Luke sighed.

I could hear Spencer whisper a confused "assclowns?" under his breath. If our situation wasn't so dire, I would have laughed at his confusion. But we had a mission on our hands.

We made our way back to the BAU. The ride was silent and the air around us was thick. I could see Spencer out of the corner of my eye, his palm repeatedly digging into his eye. I just hoped that even with the headache and tunnel vision he was experiencing that he could still do this job.

When we walked into the bullpen, Spencer stopped us. "I can't arrest Scratch. When I see his face, I am going to kill him. That's why I tried to reason with Rossi against putting me back on the team."

I had never heard him talk like that. It was a bit of a rude wake-up call about just how much prison had messed with him psychologically. He went back to rubbing his palm into his eye. "What's wrong with me?" he whimpered. If we were alone, it would be easier to comfort him. But right now we had a job to do and he knew that.

"I'm guessing this has been going on since prison," Luke jumped in. "Every time you get stressed, you get tunnel vision and rub your palm into your eye. What does that sound like?"

"PTSD," he admitted, sounding defeated.

"PTSS, Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. Because it's not a disorder, it's an injury." I liked the way Luke phrased his condition. Because it's true, it isn't a disorder.

"But we're in crisis mode, I don't have time to process my emotions."

"Then you make time."

Spencer had noticed something behind Luke's shoulder. Penelope and Matt were sitting in Rossi's office. Once we opened the door, Penelope silenced us and made us put our phones into Rossi's cigar case.