Letters to Spencer Reid

24: i'm sure, angel

TW: mentions of blood, blades/knifes, and kidnapping

"Why would he send another letter?" You ask.

"He's most likely trying to insinuate fear. " Hotch responds reaching for your shoulder. You back away quickly shaking your head.

"We have no leads Hotch," you respond trembling. "He's going to accomplish exactly what he said. 'You'll never see me coming.' We have nothing—" you finish trying to control all and any emotions.

"We won't let anything happen to you, y/n. I promise we'll find him, okay?" JJ comments, walking slowly towards you.

Shaking your head, you rush out of the station, hopping into a car back to the hotel. The entire way, the team keeps calling your phone repeatedly, most of the calls coming from Spencer and Penelope. The sun beams on your skin, placing a small amount of heat against your skin, leaving a calming feeling. It wasn't enough to turn off your thoughts, but it was partially comforting.

The hotel remains the same way you left it, other than the bed being made perfectly from housekeeping. You fall into the bed placing your head against one of the pillows, staring at the ceiling. Occasionally, the air conditioner would start up placing ambience sounds throughout the room. You inspected every detail of the ceiling, attempting any way that would minimize any thoughts.

A knock came from the door, causing you to jump off the bed, removing your gun from the holster. Your steps are cautious, aiming the firearm on the ground as you approach. Another knock echos forcing you to raise the gun, your breath starting to pick up.

Bring it on mother fucker. Let's get this over with.

"Angel? Are you okay?" Spencer questioned quietly. You place the gun back into the holster, closing your eyes releasing a relieved sigh. Turning the door handle, a sad Spencer is placed in the doorframe.

"I'm okay Spence. You don't need to worry." You respond walking back into the room, laying on the edge of the bed, Spencer following slowly.

"I do worry. I need to protect you." He insists, laying next to you. Turning to each other, you smile softly running a hand through his hair.

"You don't need to protect me. I'm very capable." You chuckle softly still combing through his light curls.

"I do though. You've spent your entire career protecting me." He whispers. "You helped me through my addiction, you were there when I woke up after almost dying from anthrax, and you tried to save Maeve because you knew how much she meant to me. You've always put everyone before yourself. I have to do the same for you." He continued whispering. You remove the hand from his hair placing it back by your side, keeping eye contact.

"I'm okay Spence, really. You don't need to worry." You respond sitting up as he follows, slowly itching closer to you. "I think we're heading home soon." You clear your throat, pulling him up with you.

"Yes, everyone's packing up now. Are you sure you're okay?" He asks.

"I'm sure, pretty boy. Let's go home." You grin, he returns a smile, stepping out of the hotel room.

Inside the station, everyone's gathered in the conference room, gathering all the files and leads. You follow Spencer into the room, helping put some files away, noticing the new letter sitting in the middle of the table.

"Are there any updates?" Spencer asks folding his arms. You stare at the note for a moment.

"No, nothing yet." Derek responds.

"Y/l/n?" Hotch asks approaching you with a box. "I need you to wear this at all times." Inside the box was a gold bracelet.

"What's this for? I didn't get you anything!" You smirk causing him to chuckle.