What Goes Around Comes Around

Approximately Two Minutes And Thirty-Five Seconds

"Hawthorne!"

My eyes shot open at the mention of my name. I looked around for the source of the sound, and I felt Hotch pat my shoulder.

"Wake up, Hawthorne," he said. "We're home."

I rubbed my eyes and got up from my seat. Next to me was Rossi, and across from us was Reid.

"You fell asleep approximately two minutes and thirty-five seconds into the flight," Reid told me. "And you slept the whole five hours."

Rossi laughed, and I thanked Reid for the much-needed information.

This was my third case with the BAU, and it was a rough one. Some sicko was kidnapping children and holding them for forty-eight hour periods before killing them, and he would send notes to their parents every twelve hours written in the childrens' blood. I felt a shiver go down my spine just thinking about it.

As soon as I got off the jet, I went to my desk to get some paperwork done - my least favorite part of the job. Reid seemed to have had the same idea because he went straight to his desk, which was right next to mine.

"Hey Jordan," he said.

"Oh, hey Reid."

"You don't have to call me that," he said. "You can call me Spencer."

I smiled. It felt nice to finally feel like I was being accepted as part of the team.

"Okay, Spencer," I said. "Are you getting up to date on paperwork?"

He shook his head.

"Actually, I wanted to tell you that you should go home. You barely slept all week in Sacramento, and I can tell how exhausted you are, even after your nap on the jet."

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Not only was the case freaking me out, but I still wasn't used to traveling. I hated hotel beds. I rubbed my eyes and yawned.

"I'm fine," I said through a yawn. "I really need to get this work done."

Even though Spencer was right, I wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of knowing it.

"Jordan," he sighed. "You're barely keeping your eyes open."

"Fine," was all I said.

I got up and reached for my car keys, but Spencer got to them first.

"There's no way I'm letting you drive like this," he said. "Let me give you a ride."

I reluctantly agreed, and he drove me home. As he drove, we sat in silence. I looked at his face, the way the moonlight illuminated it. I had thought he was cute from the moment I'd gotten here, but obviously, I couldn't let it become more than a little crush. It's always a bad idea to date co-workers, let alone the fact that he's almost definitely not into guys. So I just looked away and stared out the window instead.

I was home in no time, and I stumbled into my apartment and my bed. I was asleep in approximately two minutes and thirty-five seconds.

I woke up to a stomachache and a feeling of something wet. I got up and noticed bloodstained bedsheets.

"Fuck," I whispered to myself.

(a/n next part may cause dysphoria and mentions of self h*rm, I'll put another note when it's done)

I had forgotten two testosterone shots in a row, and now I was having my period. This job was demanding, and I didn't have much time to remember personal stuff. I sat down and cried. The menstrual cycle: the ultimate indication of a female. I was not a female. I was taking hormones for a reason, but they would do me no good if I didn't actually take them.

I hated myself. It was my fault that this had happened. This, the case, it was all too much. I rushed to my bathroom just in time to throw up in the toilet. Then I opened the drawer and picked up my blade. I stared at it for a moment. It's funny. You'd think a behavioral specialist would have his own shit together.

I pulled my shorts up to expose my thighs and anxiously held the blade. My cellphone rang and startled me, and I dropped the blade, cutting my finger in the process.

"Shit," I said before picking up. "This is Hawthorne."

"We have a new case," Hotch's voice came from the other end. "We need you here ASAP."

I scrambled to clean up the blood and patch up my finger. Disinfecting it, I winced. It was deep. I was just finished wrapping it up when my phone rang again. I checked the caller ID.

(a/n end of TW, there will be light mention of menstruation here and there in the future)

"Spencer?" I asked.

"Good morning, Jordan," he said. He sounded like he was walking.

"What's up?"

"Did you get the call?" he asked me.

"Of course," I said. "I'm getting ready to go."

"How are you going to do that with no car?"

"I figured I would just take an Uber," I told him. And then I realized what he meant.

"I'll be. at your house in fifteen minutes," he said.

Before I had a chance to reply, Spencer had hung up.

I rushed to the shower as fast as I could. As the hot water poured over my body, I felt a sense of calm wash over me. I was okay. I was safe. I had my dream job, and I was about to use it to help people.

Spencer was waiting for me when I got outside. His hair was wet and messy. I could tell that he had just woken up and rushed to get ready. He hadn't had time to shave, it seemed, and the stubble on his chin made him look all the more handsome. His hazel eyes shined in the morning light.

"Jordan?"

I realized that I was staring, and I hadn't even gotten into the car yet.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I got into the car. "I zoned out."

As we pulled out of the parking lot, I realized that once again, in my hurry, I had forgotten to take my testosterone, and it wasn't in my go bag either.

"Shit," I huffed under my breath.