Echos of a Genius | Spencer Reid

All Yours

Stephie

"Alright, careful, careful..." I remind Spencer, my hand on his arm as I guide him down into the chair next to Penelope's cramped desk.

"I know, thanks," Spencer mutters, throwing me a look that says I'm hovering. I ignore it. His leg's still healing, and I can't help but fuss.

Penelope glances up from her computer, her eyes narrowing as she watches Spencer settle. "Does it hurt?" she asks, tilting her head.

"It only really hits when I think about it, which is... pretty much all the time." He offers a dry smile, his hand instinctively moving to rub his knee as I reach up to absentmindedly mess with his hair. His once-short hair is now just brushing his shoulders—he's been letting it grow out, and honestly, I kind of love it.

Penelope's eyes follow his movement, and with a sudden, sharp swat, she smacks his hand away from the tin of cookies on her desk. "No, no, no. These are for Hotch," she scolds, though there's a hint of a smile on her face.

Spencer looks offended, giving her his best puppy-dog eyes. "I get shot in the leg, and I don't get any cookies? You know he's gonna hate the attention."

Penelope chuckles, shaking her head as she moves the tin further out of his reach. "It's cookies, not cake," she quips, pulling out a cup of lollipops and setting them on top of the tin as a peace offering. Spencer immediately takes one, unwrapping it with a satisfied smirk.

"He's probably gonna pretend like nothing happened anyway," I say, nodding in agreement as I lean back against the wall. Spencer hums in agreement, and Penelope, though still smiling, knows it's true.

Spencer, sucker between his teeth, suddenly pulls it out to speak. "You know, in all the time I've known Hotch, I don't think I've ever seen him blink." He pops the sucker back into his mouth like it's no big deal.

Penelope's eyes go wide, staring off into the distance. "I know, it's weird." She looks almost haunted by the realization.

"Classic alpha male behavior," Spencer adds with a smirk. I roll my eyes and lightly smack the back of his head.

"Knock it off," I say, though I can't help the small smile tugging at my lips. The banter between them continues, but I find myself tuning out as my phone vibrates in my pocket. It's been a week since the shooting, and every buzz still sends a chill through me.

Suddenly, the door swings open, and JJ bursts into the room, her expression urgent. "Spencer, Stephie, there you are. Grab your go bags."

Penelope immediately looks up from her desk, concerned. "What's going on?"

JJ gestures to the TV in the corner. "Turn it on. There's a manhunt in Louisville. It's urgent."

I'm already helping Spencer to his feet, my hands steadying him as he grabs his crutches. "Careful!" I snap, watching him struggle up too fast for my liking. He's reckless with his own well-being, and it makes me nervous every time.

On the jet, the tension is palpable. Hotch walks in, his expression stoic as usual, but his eyes land on Spencer's knee, propped up on a seatbeside me. This is the first any of us have seen of him since the Foyet incident.

"How long do you have that?" Hotch asks, nodding toward the adjustable knee brace wrapped around Spencer's leg.

Spencer shrugs, offering a small smile. "I'm not really sure. Welcome back, though."

I roll my eyes at Spencer's nonchalance and speak up, giving Hotch a more concrete answer. "Few months at least." Hotch gives a quick, rare grin before turning to the case at hand, diving into the details as the team gathers around.