Quiet as a Mouse || Abused Spencer Reid

Chapter Two - Elegance

   In the week following the loss of his job, logically, Spencer knew that Jackson would be going through a rough time. He was erratic-- more so than usual, but it was fine. Spencer just felt bad that his boyfriend was having to go through that, so he tried to be as considerate as possible. 

   He didn't wait for Jackson to ask him before bringing him a beer and a snack to his armchair in front of the TV. He seemed to have decided to live there almost all day now, only moving when absolutely necessary. 

   The extra shouting was rather unpleasant, especially considering that by the time Reid got home from work (if he even did, that is), trying to act 'normal' all day in a cramped, windowless office with a bunch of noisy people always took its toll on him. Some days, it was all he could do to not scrape his eyes out of their sockets and tear his ears off in his panic. 

   Panic attacks weren't new to him, but he'd learned to deal with them sufficiently enough that they didn't cause problems for anyone around him. Ever since he was young but even more in recent years, he'd developed an uncanny ability to act unfazed by the painful heart palpitations that seemed to go on for hours, chest constricting and squeezing itself into the tightest ball and leaving him convinced he was about to pass out-- granted, his sugar with a side of coffee didn't exactly help with that, either. 

   But all the while, he remained quiet and steady. It would be unkind to lose his temper, he was sure Jackson was trying his best. 

   "WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE'RE OUT OF BREAD, YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!" The older man roared, and Spencer could have sworn he saw the glass shake. It was 7 in the morning. Spencer just wanted to make breakfast and leave for work as soon as possible. He'd barely just woken up and he was already exhausted. 

   "I'm sorry, Jacks, but-but I can make cereal instead, we still have pl-plenty of milk left and I can go to the store after work today-" 

   "You should've gone yesterday if you knew we were running out, dammit! Can't you do anything right?" 

   "I... I didn't know. I'm sorry, Jackson." Spencer was fidgeting awkwardly with his hands, shifting from foot to foot in the kitchen, keeping a safe distance between himself and his boyfriend. He could already feel his chest constricting and the weight pooling at the pit of his stomach, though he suspected he could hopefully ward it off until he was alone in his car. 

   "And stop doing that, anyway. It makes you look fucking stupid." Spencer just looked confused. 

   "Doing what?" 

   "That!" Jackson gestured vaguely to Spencer's whole frame, making him pause. 

   So what was he supposed to do about the bread? He hadn't gotten a clear answer in the end. Was cereal okay after all? Maybe Jackson wanted him to go to the corner shop quickly before he went to work- but he was already going to be late... 

    He couldn't think of any way to ask without making him even more angry than he already was, though. So Spencer just stood there, clueless, for a long moment. He couldn't just leave now. 

   "Well, don't just stand there, then!" 

   "What?" 

   "You'll be late to work. You tryin' to get fired? I swear, if you do that, you know you'll be dealin' it out with me in the evening, and it won't be pretty." Spencer felt his limbs grow cold at the mere thought of that happening. At least he got his answer. 

   "No, sir. Of course. I'm sorry about the bread." 

   "Yeah, whatever. Just gonna have to go hungry, I guess. But I'm past it." Spencer tried to push past Jackson's poisonous words to finally exit the door. He needed to get away. Away.