It was simmering away, lurking in the murky depths of his conscious, patiently waiting for the perfect moment to rise to the surface.
Spencer never thought the time would come, that perfect moment that part of him had been waiting for. But he was s...
"An overflow of good converts to bad." - William Shakespeare.
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THIS CHAPTER IS SET IN THE FUTURE SO THE REST OF THE FANFIC WILL BE THE LEAD UP TO THIS MOMENT AND THE AFTER MATH!!! ENJOY :)
You shouldn't have gone, it was stupid of you -- careless even. But you couldn't help it. Some sick part of you spurred you on, your feet carrying you whilst you ran passed buildings and through busy streets, dodging passerby's left and right.
Your heart was pumping blood so fast around your body that you could hear it in your ears as you went and pressed your finger to your ear piece, "This is Agent [L/N]," your words were fast, evident of the fact that you were breathing heavily "I am in pursuit of a suspect on foot."
Your hand fell from the ear piece, vaguely aware of the flurry of words coming through it, however it was indecipherable. You were concentrating on one thing and one thing only.
"He is heading North off Cresent." You spoke once again, willing to inform your team on where you and the suspect was headed but not willing to listen to their replies.
You willed yourself to run faster, to make your legs move that much more so you could decrease the difference in between you. But damn was he fast.
You followed his every move, when he went left, you went left, he went right, you went right. You were that close that you could even see him, his hair acting like a taunt that you were slower than him -- not by a lot, but by just enough.
"[L/N]," Prentiss, your Unit Chief said your name sternly which was the only intelligible word that managed to make it through your brain. "Do not try and engage with him, Alvez and Simmons are about three minutes out."
You huffed a "noted" and carried on sprinting. At this point, your lungs had reached beyond burning. It was like acid was being poured down your throat whilst your head was being hit by a hammer but you didn't let that stop you.
The suspect turned around a corner to which you did the same, only this time you slid to a halt. Your gun poised in front of you, on target. "FBI!"
The man was tall, lanky even, and his hair was a mop of curls balanced perfectly upon his head. You could recognise it anyway, having grown used to running your fingers through it countless times before.
He was turned around, back facing you. He looked like someone who was waiting, not someone who was running away from getting arrested.
Your fingers flexed around you gun, ensuring that none were touching the trigger. "Turn around."
A chuckle echoed through the air, eminating from the man in front of you. He swivvelled where he stood, smiling cockily at you.
You took a good look at his face; dark circles under his eyes which were caused by the no doubt lack of sleep, eyes that were previously glinting with happiness, now blank and his shiny teeth that always hit the sun just enough to make a sparkle.
You clenched your jaw, hating how the two of you had ended up where you were. Nonethless, your eyes met his as you stated him down, "Spencer Reid, you're under arrest."
