Neighbors (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Seven

He was still outside on the porch an hour later, frozen in place. In shock. Y/N had... punched him. And shoved him multiple times. Was this what she was really like? He'd read about her assault charge, but couldn't pair it with her personality. At least, not until now. Spencer could feel his heart shattering into pieces as he replayed the night before in his head, over and over and over. He was the cause of this. He was the reason he couldn't be with Y/N. Of course, he'd recognized from her behavior that she was interested, but he refused to admit it to himself.

The sound of police sirens snapped him out of his daze. They were pulling into the apartment guest parking lot and rushed to his location. Someone must have called the police because they heard yelling. One of the officers approached him cautiously, so he pulled his badge out from his pocket. "Doctor Spencer Reid. I'm with the FBI," he recited, as he had dozens of times. "A federal agent? What are we dealing with here?" An officer speculated. "Oh no, I live here. Why were you called?"

"Act of violence."

Instantly it clicked in his head. She'd made the call. His theory was proved true when he watched his neighbor shakily exit her apartment. "Please arrest me. I don't want to hurt anyone else," she whimpered. "No. Not happening." Spencer shook his head and faced the officers. "I'll handle this. Somebody hand me a pair of cuffs. Now." He was handed cuffs and walked to Y/N slowly, breathing a sigh of relief when she extended her arms. "I'm going to take you somewhere. You're not a threat," he whispered. A small nod. Good. At least this was going smoothly. The police filed out, and Spencer waited for them to disappear fully before putting the key in the cuffs. "No- please. I don't want to blow up again. Keep them on," Y/N said softly. Painfully.

Based on stance, she was still upset with him, but she probably knew cooperation was safest. "You won't hurt anyone else. You're just having an episode. All you need is a therapist, someone to talk to. Do you have anyone like that in your contacts that you can think of?" she shook her head and he sighed. After a second, he walked into her apartment, carefully pulling her with him. "Woah..." It was a wreck; Y/N's belongings were thrown everywhere. Nothing was in its proper place. Refusing to draw attention to it, Spencer kept tugging his neighbor to her bedroom, convincing her to sit on the bed. "If I leave you here can you-"

He frowned. Something in her face had changed. No longer was he dealing with vulnerability. She was staring at him, almost as if she was... "Oh. Oh. You have a personality disorder, don't you? That's where the anger comes from. Your emotions can... they can flip in the blink of an eye. That's why you act happy all the time, you're terrified of snapping. You're trying to hide the anger from everyone, including yourself. That's why you're interested in me." Pieces were flying together faster than he could verbally assemble them. "You rely on my ability to pick up on the shifts because I'll see them and can help shut them down or detain you. You were never in love with me, you were targeting me!"

"I was targeting you at first. When I chose the apartment, it was because I knew you were living there. But the more I stayed here, the more I realized I wanted to be done with the violence. I saw... hope when I looked at you." Spencer's mouth was agape. This was the sickest twist he'd ever seen take place in front of him. "So when you realized I could pick up on the slightest shift, you realized-"

"That you could help me get help. I was absolutely smitten. And then you said what you said and I let it get to my head and-"

"You snapped because you thought you couldn't get the happiness you craved."

"Spencer, I need help."

"I know Y/N. I know."