ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴛʜᴇ sᴜɴ- ˢᴾᴱᴺᶜᴱᴿ ᴿᴱᴵᴰ

ten!

A/N; wheeew this one is a big one and it's gonna be long/have a lot of jumps etc. what i want to make clear is there is mention of abuse, drugs, forced drug use, murder, (general cm violence)

y/n's pov

he took a deep breath and i grabbed his hand in mine. "you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

looking at me, he sighed "i have to."

he took a breath, and began.

"i grew up without my father, he left when i was young and then it was just my mom and me. she..." he looked away, "she's schizophrenic, on her good days she could take care of us both. on her bad," he looked back at me. it occurred to me that he hadn't told many people this. i squeezed his clammy hand, they were usually cold. 

"on her bad days she couldn't take care of either of us." my heart broke for him. for the child spencer who had to be the parent for his mother, after his own father abandoned them. "i was a smart child, and i don't mean that in a conceited way. sometimes i think it's more of a negative than a positive. i was able to jump grade upon grade and then i graduated high school at twelve and suddenly i was a college student and caring for my mother and i still didn't understand anything that wasn't written in a book."

he was rambling.

"i went to caltech and had to leave my mother behind. oh god, i don't even know how to explain how terrified i was every time the phone would ring. i was so convinced they were gonna tell me they found her somewhere, and i couldn't put her in someone else's care without telling someone that i had been on my own for years." he shook his head, "i didn't want to put her anywhere. that feels so, i don't know, wrong. like i was punishing her for something." he took a shaky breath, and oh how i wanted to interject. how i wanted to tell him that his mother wasn't his responsibility. that he was hers. that someone— anyone should have intervened. i didn't though, i stayed silent because i know that he has a lot more to say and i don't want to scare him off.

"when i was eighteen, i had my mother institutionalised..." he trailed off and i saw a tear run down his red cheek. i looked at him for permission before i caught it on the pad of my thumb and wiped it off. i ran the same hand through his hair, just once, he leaned into my touch before sighing. i sat back to hear the rest of his story.

"when i was twenty, i joined the FBI and suddenly i felt as though i had some sort of purpose. i could help people, people like my mom. i don't know. i guess i'm not your 'average' agent. but i'm good at what i do. i enjoy it." he looked down at our interlocked hands. "i enjoyed it."

puzzled, i look to him. he's breathing heavily. "i thought you loved your job, spence." i ask him lightly, i had always thought that.

"i did, and then something happened. something i don't know how to talk about. but i have to." he took his hand from mine and suddenly i felt cold. what could possibly be worse than the things he had already shared?

moments passed by, spencer had looked like he was about to speak three times now. not once did any words come out.

i looked away from him, maybe he would feel more comfortable with less eyes on him.

instead, i looked to his apartment. it was clear someone disorganised and disoriented lived here, everything everywhere. it didn't look like he had cleaned ever. his books were either dusty or overused, scattered in piles everywhere. i continued to inspect the small space with my eyes until i heard him begin.

"a few months ago we got called on a case. it was odd. the unsubs name was Tobias Hankel." he picked up my hand again. warmth returned to my body. it's crazy his affect on me. he looked distraught. i felt like crying, i couldn't possible fathom how he felt.