A year after leaving the BAU, Spencer Reid is restless and struggling to adjust to civilian life. Not finding any fulfillment or respite in it, he decides to take a position with Homeland. On assignment he meets you, a former Master Gunnery Sergeant...
Warnings: homesickness, sort of suicidal thoughts, anxiety, explosions,
Summary: Spencer struggles to adjust to Iraq. When he's finally alone, he lets out some of his stress
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You took Spencer to the post exchange on base next, as those dumb dress shoes and slacks would be in tatters in a day or two in the rough terrain of Iraq. With the constant barrage of sand and wind, one had to be covered nearly head to toe in thick clothing and heavy boots just to stay in one piece.
When you were in the Corps, you called exchanges MCXs, but you were on Air Force and Army territory here, serving with a bunch of grunts, so instead of a base exchange, as the Flyboys called them, you referred to the on base grocery stores as post exchanges.
For a civilian, this place was more of an on base grocery store combined with a clothing shop, but they all functioned the same no matter what kind of base you were on.
Spencer looked around with a hardly restrained grimace at the options you had grabbed for him- mostly cargo pants and long and short sleeve tees.
"You're what? A size twelve?" you asked absentmindedly as you snagged a pair of Danners from the rack and handed them to him.
Spencer bit his lip and nodded, so you frowned at him, "What?"
"It's just..." he started, catching your eye. He sighed, "I'm out of my element, I guess."
"You knew that before you came here."
"Yeah," he said quietly, "yeah I did."
You eyed him carefully for a moment as he stared nervously at the boots in his hand, like they might jump up and bite him. You knew what this place did to a person, how hard it was to adjust to living in the middle of a warzone. It took time, and someone to lean on, and as much as you didn't want this civilian here to babysit, you felt for him.
You groaned internally, seeing Teddy's face giving you the stink eye for giving the new guy a hard time.
"Look, I know this is a lot to take in," you started, and he looked to you with wide eyes. "It doesn't... get much easier than this, unfortunately. It's a hard way to live, fighting for your life every day, but as long as you don't let this place suck the life outta you you'll be fine."
Spencer looked at you in disbelief, "How the hell do you do that?"
"The outside world doesn't exist here, Doc," you shrugged. "You live in this little bubble, wake up each day just to get to bed at night, and it'll be over before you know it."
"Is that how you've survived out here this long? Luke said you joined up at eighteen and came right back after you joined Homeland."
"What can I say? I love sand in my underwear and sweating through my clothes."
"I'm serious," Spencer said firmly, his brows pinching together as he stepped closer. "Why do you keep coming back?"
You looked up at him and felt small, thinking about how time and time again you left your life in DC to come back to Iraq or Afghanistan or Syria for yet another mission. All the things you'd missed out on because you and Teddy both couldn't stay away from this place and its people, your commitment to your jobs. You couldn't seem to help yourself as you spoke a dreadfully honest truth.
