COVERT : Spencer Reid (II)

08

I check every room of our flat. Estelle isn't home. It's crazy. Surely, I must go to the madhouse, but my hands are so sweaty I feel like I am going to dial the wrong number. Then, I give up and go over to my laptop, booting it up. My hands fumble with the letter, dropping it on the desk next to me. I start to hyperventilating, my throat squeezing tighter and tighter.

I drop my stuff and turn the shower on. The water is icy. With my clothes still on, I stick my head in. I suck in a breath of air, sputtering as the water spills over onto my face. Water starts to stick to the back of my neck, running down my shirt. I hiccup, gripping the edge of the tub as I breathe.

This is probably not what my therapist had in mind when she taught me this grounding technique.

When I feel like my breathing is back to normal, I slip out of the shower. My shirt is soaked, but my computer should be turned on by now. Thought are going to encroach again soon, but I try not to think. Instead, I feel the water begin to seep through onto my chest, biting and freezing too. I go back into my bedroom without wrapping my hair in a towel. At my computer, I search up His name. All of the information on his old trial comes up.

I look back at the note.

Colette Bouchard,

I preferred your hair shorter.

Your secret admirer

I take a breath. Ragged, gasping, the sound I'd make if I was drowning and not just having intentionally submerged my head underneath the shower. It's stupid. Thinking it's him. It could be a neighbour who noticed that I've grown out my hair two inches over the past few months. It could be Spencer, who for some reason has been possessed by a brevity I've never thought he could imagine. There is no real logical reason to think it's Him.

I go into my bag and grab the sheet. I decide that I'm catastrophizing. Another one to check off.

Still, I do as much research as I can. I scan over the computer until the early hours of the morning, looking up Him online, and His relatives. I look through our friends social media accounts, seeing if anyone has mentioned him. I check local news, scroll through my neighbours accounts, even spend time looking up my mother. Only one other person do I spend as much time focusing on, checking everything I can.

By Monday, I haven't forgotten about it. I refuse to even for a second. Against my better judgement, Monday afternoon I walk into Garcia's office.

"Hey Garcia," I peek at her through the doorway.

The team is just back from a case, so I know she shouldn't be overwhelmingly busy. She stops clacking her keys for a second and then lets me come in.

"I have a favour to ask of you."

She blinks, turning her head to look at me, "how can I please you today?"

"It's not exactly legal," I tell her.

Her grin widens. She grabs a pen off her desk, beginning to fiddle with it, "you surprise me still Colette. Is it about your military brother?"

"Why?" I ask, furrowing my brow.

She shrugs, "I got asked for some files on you by the military two weeks ago. Now, I don't just hand over files willy-nilly, so I wanted to do some digging. They want to send him to Afghanistan?"

I nod slowly. Garcia's grin widens, "you want me to hack the Pentagon?"

"No, Garcia," I sigh, shaking my head. Then I stop. That is on the table. Maybe it would fix whatever is going on with Bastien. Then, I shake my head again. "No, I just... it's... you're a true romantic."