Spencer Reid One Shots

Chapter 17: Expecting

Note: (Y/N) means your name, (Y/F/N) means your full name, (L/N) means last name
I'm taking requests because writer's block is a thing.

You and Spencer have been dating for two years now and you've just finished moving into your new shared apartment. Wanting to wind down from walking around the apartment, unpacking the last few things, you ask him to do some crossword puzzles with you from a book full of them.

You've gotten through most of the puzzle yourself, but your brain is now getting a little fried.

"Window above a door..." you trail off, bouncing the pen off of your lips as you think hard. You stare at the page, your tiredness not going unnoticed.

"Window above a door...a lintel," Spencer says as he leans closer to the page, resting his chin in his hand as he stares down at it on the coffee table, his finger pointing to a few of the words that are already filled out.

You sigh thankfully, since your brain was about to explode. You write it down and sigh again, feeling your stomach tightening a little. You blow out air through your mouth to push the nauseous feeling down, but you can't stand it anymore. You spring up and jog to the bathroom down the hall, bending down on your knees over the toilet and throwing up. You hear Spencer jogging up behind you to check up on you.

"Whoa, hey...you okay, (Y/N)?" he asks, genuine concern in his voice as he steps into the room, kneeling down beside you and rubbing your back.

You groan and flush the toilet in defeat.

"I've been feeling like this for weeks now. Sometimes it's okay, sometimes it's not, like now," you tell him in a quiet voice, ashamed that you haven't told him until now.

"Weeks? You haven't been feeling well for weeks and you didn't tell me?"

"I know, I know," you wipe your mouth with toilet paper and look at him, guilty. "I just thought it was a simple stomach bug, but...maybe I should go to the doctor. I don't want to be living with a deadly disease or something..."

He nods in agreement, his hand still rubbing soothing motions up and down your back, his eyebrows furrowed with worry for you.

"Yeah, you should definitely get checked out. Maybe you have some kind of stomach virus or something."

"Tell me, what virus lasts this long without getting you sick?" you ask him nervously, wanting answers. He knows a lot more than you do so maybe something will come to his mind.

He pauses for a moment, thinking about it for a few seconds before responding with a slight frown.

"None, really," he admits. "There's only one other thing I can think of that would make you feel crappy and throw up all the time..."

"It's not that," you dismiss very quickly, rubbing your forehead with your eyes closed and head down. "I'm on the pill and we're careful. It's rare when we're not."

Spencer pauses again, his hand going still on your back. His face remains neutral as he tries to stay calm, but his heart is racing.

"Hmm..." He tries to act as nonchalant as possible. "Well...birth control isn't one hundred percent effective, you know that."

You sigh and groan at the pain in your stomach, rubbing it gently.

"It doesn't feel like that. It just feels like I'm sick," you stubbornly deny. You look up and hold out your hand for him to help you stand up, walking back to the living room to grab your phone. Spencer follows you and sits down on the couch, his elbows on his knees and leaning forward with his fingers intertwined.