𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇- spencer reid ✔️

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

"𝐒𝐎, 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄," 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃, unsure of what else to say. She locked the door behind her, watching Spencer as he looked around. "You know that I've seen your place before, right?" He reminded her, and Celia couldn't help but roll her eyes. Spencer had tried to tell her that he'd get a hotel, but Celia wasn't having it, and she demanded that he come and stay with her. Since Celia didn't have any life-threatening injuries, she was able to persuade the doctor's into letting her go home early. It's not like she was going to be doing anything there anyways. She was let go with a warning to keep an eye on her stitches after they had re-opened, and to try and not move her shoulder. It was easy enough.

"I know, but that hardly counts," Celia retorted. She flinched when there was a particularly loud clap of thunder outside, and she glanced outside of the window in her living room to see the rain coming down hard. The drops were pelting down on her windows, and it was so dark outside she could barely see a thing. She flinched again when the thunder clapped again, louder this time. Spencer clasped a hand on her shoulder and looked down at her, his face etched with concern. "You okay?" Celia nodded, glancing out the window before shaking her head and finally looking at him. In an instant, she had the smile back on her face, trying to move past the subject of her strange behaviour. "Fine," she answered. It was a word that she'd said so often in the past week that she'd become desensitized to it by now.

"Do you mind if I take a shower here?" He glanced down at his clothes, and Celia nodded as she led him down the hallway to the washroom, showing him where the towels were and how to work her shower. It was one of those insanely complicated ones, but the water pressure in it was amazing. "I think I'm gonna order some food. You got a preference?" She poked her head in the door before she left, catching a glimpse of him unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. He turned his head to glance at her and shrugged. "Whatever you want."

"Chinese?" Celia suggested. Spencer nodded eagerly, "That sounds great." Celia nodded and shut the door behind her, making her way to the kitchen. She stared at the new carpet in her living room for a moment, knowing that if she were to lift it up, she'd find the faint outline of her name written on the floor in blood. No matter how many countless hours she'd spent scrubbing the blood, she couldn't get it out. It had left a stain on her apartment in the same way that Rebecca had left her stain on Celia. She'd never be able to fully get her out of her head, and she felt like she was going to turn around and see her standing there at any given moment.

The thunder roared outside her window, and Celia yelped, glancing over her shoulder, relieved to find nothing there. She clutched a hand over her chest, willing herself to get it together. She reached for the phone and dialled the number for her favourite Chinese restaurant, and placed an order for delivery, knowing that neither of them was going to go out in this weather to pick it up. Celia hung up the phone and took a seat on her couch, tracing the seams while she contemplated what to do. She flipped through the tv channels, not finding anything particularly interesting. When the lights flickered, Celia's heart stopped in her chest for a moment until they came back on a second later. She continued her scrolling until she landed on a rerun of some 90's sitcom. The television didn't do its job of distracting her, because Celia couldn't help but let her mind wander.

The second time that the lights had gone out, Celia let out a scream. For a moment, she sat there frozen, feeling exactly the same way she had the first time, when she had nearly been killed and couldn't do a thing about it. She let out a mix between a cry and a shout, and lowered herself to the floor, crawling until she felt her hands make contact with the wall, and Celia settled herself in the corner of the room, making herself as small as possible. You're being stupid, don't be such a baby. What twenty-seven year old is afraid of the dark? She whined, hearing panicked footsteps coming down the hallway, directly toward her. What if it was Rebecca coming back to finish her off? What if-