My mother struts along ahead of me, dragging me by my wrist out of the elevator. The floor is bustling with people, most in suits and nearly all of them holding manilla folders with the scales of justice printed boldly on them. The symbol is everywhere, on the glass doors, on the windows, on the stupid brown folders. My mother stopped listening to my requisitions and begs long before she even drove us down to the FBI headquarters in quantico; and excruciating three hours from my hometown. My mother carries a medium sized cardboard box in her free hand stuffed full of letters, gifts, and other items sent to me from a "secret admirer." It was endearing at first but it turned... harrowing when my missing personal items would turn up or chunks of hair. Intense phone calls describing what I was wearing that day when I went out or talking about how boring my work must be sitting at a desk all day. She had had enough: one too many complaints from me that she decided that going to the FBI was the most sensible solution.
"Excuse me! Excuse me, I need to talk to someone in charge!" She bellows, making me want to shrink down into a shell and disappear. A taller man approaches us; he has dark, short hair and a weathered face. "Can I help you?" He questions. He looks very professional, almost like some of those lawyer shows I tune in to sometimes. "My daughter has a stalker and you need to take care of it!" She commands, shoving the box into his hands, refusing to let go of my wrist. Scared that maybe the stalker will whisk me away from her if she dares to let go. "Ma'am, I am sure we could take a look at this but there is a whole laundry list of things we have to go through as a team-" he starts rambling, poking inside the box. "I don't care what you have to do, just fix it." She points a stern finger at him, my bracelets jiggling sound of my wrists as she shakes so hard she might appear on the richter scale. "The police have already tried to do something and it has only gotten worse, so do whatever you have to do, but fix it." She continues, pushing me towards the man. A couple others begin watching from inside the offices, they all look relatively different, all unique and interesting in their own way.
YOU ARE READING
Watcher (Spencer Reid x Reader)
ActionYour mother drags you to Quantico, Virgina, a good three hour drive from your hometown. You had stopped trying to argue with her after she rummaged through you room for any and all evidence of your stalker. Dr. Reid helps you through this tough time...
