Keep Holding On

chapter 32

a/n: the day i'm posting this is mgg's birthday! happy birthday king!

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor as Spencer rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Blinking groggily, he reached out for Molly, only to find her side of the bed empty and cold. Confusion knitted his brow as he sat up, scanning the room for any sign of her presence.

Frowning, Spencer swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up, the cool wood floor sending a shiver through his bare feet. He padded through the apartment, searching for her in every room, but she was nowhere to be found.

It was only when he reached the kitchen that he spotted it—a piece of paper lying on the table.

Spencer reached out and picked it up, unfolding it to reveal Molly's handwriting.

I had to go out for a bit but I'll be back in the afternoon. Sorry for not telling you earlier!

As he read her words, a mixture of emotions washed over him—surprise, disappointment, and a tinge of frustration at himself for oversleeping.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Spencer realized that it was almost noon. He couldn't believe how late he had slept, losing track of time in the comfort of her bed.

With a resigned sigh, he turned his attention to the kitchen, deciding to make breakfast.

As he cracked eggs into a pan and sliced bread for toast, he wondered where Molly could be on Saturday morning. She usually spent them at home given that most mornings she was at work.

Spencer finished breakfast and the sound of the front door opening caught his attention.

Turning, he watched as Molly walked in, her arms laden with groceries and a warm smile on her face.

"Hey!" Spencer exclaimed, setting down his fork and rising from his seat to greet her.

Molly set the groceries down on the counter and crossed the room to him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry," she murmured into his shoulder. "I didn't want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful, and you should get all the sleep you need."

Spencer hugged her back, feeling the tension melt away from his shoulders at her touch. "It's okay," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Molly pulled back, her eyes sparkling with affection as she looked up at him. "I bought groceries," she said, gesturing to the bags on the counter. "I thought we could cook dinner together tonight."

A smile tugged at the corners of Spencer's lips as he nodded. "That sounds perfect," he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

She grinned back at him, her smile lighting up the room. "I love you!" she said, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead. "Now, why don't you finish your breakfast while I put these away?"

Spencer nodded, returning to his seat at the table as Molly began unpacking the groceries.

....................................

Molly's worry gnawed at her as she paced back and forth in the living room. Spencer had been in the bathroom for what felt like an eternity, and her mind raced with worst-case scenarios.

He'd been so distant lately, haunted by nightmares every night, and though they had talked a few times, he's always been quite vague.

What if he was keeping something from her? What if he was struggling with something he couldn't bring himself to share?

She couldn't help but think back to what little she knew of his past—a past she hadn't been a part of.

Spencer had mentioned his struggles with drugs, but it had been over a decade since then. Still, Molly couldn't shake the nagging fear that old habits could resurface, especially in the face of such overwhelming stress.

After all, drug addicts were known for their ability to hide their habits, and Spencer, as an FBI agent, was undoubtedly skilled at keeping secrets, even from her.

Unable to bear the uncertainty any longer, Molly made her way to the bathroom door and knocked gently.

"Spencer? Are you okay there?" she called out, her voice tinged with concern.

"Sorry, I just got lost in thought. I'll be out in a minute."

Molly's worry lingered, evident in her next words. "Oh, it's okay. I just wanted to check because you've been in there for a while." With that, she opened the door and peered inside, her eyes searching his face for any signs of distress.

Spencer sat in the bathtub, his expression calm and relaxed as he soaked in the warm water.

"Spencer?" she whispered softly, reaching out a tentative hand to touch his arm. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he reassured her, his voice gentle and reassuring. "I was just lost in thought, enjoying the warm water."

Relief flooded through Molly at his words, washing away the anxiety that had gripped her heart. She smiled back at him, grateful that he was okay.

"I'm sorry for barging in," she said sheepishly. "I guess I was just overthinking things."

Spencer reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "It's okay," he said softly. "I promise, I'm fine."

As Molly sat on the closed toilet, joining Spencer in the bathroom, their gazes met and held. His eyes, filled with concern and affection, searched hers for any sign of distress.

"Are you okay, Molly?" he asked softly, his voice gentle and warm.

Molly forced a small smile, nodding in response. "I'm fine," she replied, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears. But inside, her thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions, swirling like a tempest in her mind.

But she couldn't bring herself to voice her concerns, to burden him further with her own fears and insecurities. She knew he was dealing with enough already, and she didn't want to add to his troubles.

So she plastered on a brave face, hiding her own turmoil behind a mask of false reassurance. She leaned into his touch, offering him a small smile as she brushed her fingers against his cheek.

But inside, her heart ached with the weight of the secrets she carried, the fears that gnawed at her from the inside out.

"You know you can talk to me," he said softly.

She knew he meant well, that he was offering her a safe space to share her worries and fears.

Did she really know how to talk to him? Did she even have the words to express the tangled mess of emotions that churned within her? And did she truly need him to know, or was their silent companionship enough to carry them through?

Maybe she didn't need him to understand every thought and feeling that passed through her mind. Maybe their unspoken bond was enough to bridge the gap between them, to soothe the ache of loneliness and uncertainty that lingered in their hearts.

So she offered him a small smile, her eyes shining with unspoken gratitude.

"I know," she murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm grateful for that, Spencer. But for now, I think we're okay, just the way we are."