The Story That Didn't Want To Be Written | Spencer Reid x Reader

Scar Tissue

Warnings: Mention of abduction/kidnapping, mention of hospitalization, mention of sexual assault, mention of nightmares. 

"I don't want either of you two leaving Reid's apartment for the next week. You have enough food and you are under no circumstances to come into work, do you understand?" Hotch warned sternly, standing three and a half feet away from you but still managing to pin you against the wall with his gaze. He looked over your face one last time, watching as you nodded and affirmed that you would follow his directions before turning his entire body to face Spencer.

"Spencer-" Hotch started, and you saw the boy genius widen his eyes at the use of his first name.

Hotch never used first names.

"There will be agents posted outside your apartment building and I know you just had the new security system installed, but please just- keep your gun near the both of you while we hunt this guy down. We can't be distracted by worrying about you two while we are working, so just-" Hotch stopped for a moment, flicking his eyes around Spencer's face like the rest of his sentence was there.

"-just promise me you will be safe, please?" Hotch's voice was still monotone and he was by no means opening the conversation up for debate, but if you listened just closely enough to your boss- your friend- you could hear the emotion getting lost in his voice somewhere.

Spencer noticed it too. He swallowed before contemplating Hotch's words for a moment. He couldn't bring himself to lie to Hotch after what happened last year with-

with Maeve.

He shook his head and whispered a soft "yes sir". Hotch was satisfied with his answer, knowing Spencer didn't agree to things just to please Hotch like he used to; he had developed some gut over the years that had made him both more reliable and more fiery- almost combative at times when he was passionate about a case- but Hotch could see right through him. There was trust there, hanging between the two men.

You shifted a little to lean against the wall. Standing for long periods of time like you had been doing for the past three quarters of the hour was still tiring and you felt your healing cuts starting to get irritated.

You hadn't needed surgery, but you did have to get hundreds of small, thin stitches spanning across your abdomen- they had actually been removed just before you were given the news that you'd be able to go home, but you were still sore and at the risk of reopening your skin, your movement was heavily monitored and you were being overly careful, feeling your incisions grow stronger as scar tissue began to form beneath the light pink marks.

Spencer quickly moved his eyes over to you, being able to see the discomfort in your eyes even though you were fighting with yourself to keep your gaze neutral.

Huh, I could've sworn I was doing a good job...

Hotch stood a few moments in front of Spencer, who was now fully invested in profiling your body language, before he turned and walked out of the hospital room, leaving you and Spencer alone.

"Are you sure you're comfortable staying with me?" you raised your eyebrows questioningly. "I-uh I don't mean I don't want you to, I do! I really do I- I just don't want you to be uncomfortable..." his voice trailed off naturally as he tested the waters to see where the two of you stood.

"I don't mind, I actually think It would be nice to have the company of someone I know instead of some random BAU field agent..." You laughed a little bit, but it came from your throat instead of your abdomen, so it was pitchy and rather small.