Lockdown

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

11/09/2019. 06:33 hours. Spencer Reid's Apartment, Virginia.

Spencer had been more than ready to return to his apartment after his mandated six weeks of medical leave ended in which he had remained with David. Spencer felt like he had intruded on the senior agent for too long. Once he was freed from the neck brace, he had had to regain some semblance of independence. He was immensely grateful to David for opening up his home to him yet again, but it never truly felt like home. Spencer's home was in his small apartment with his bookshelves filled with leather bound classics, his coffee, and his Mozart.

Spencer gazed at his reflection in the mirror on the medicine cabinet above the washbasin as he knotted his black silk tie around his neck and straightened the collar of his dark grey button-up shirt. He still experienced some numbness in his left hand and foot, which was to be expected, but would eventually go away. He corded his neck to stretch out his aching muscles. He sighed and looked away from the mirror. Shadows clung to the razor-sharp edges of his cheekbones. The scarring on his face had made him even more self-conscious than before. He turned on the hot water faucet and pushed his hands underneath the stream. His stomach clenched with nausea at the sight of the ghastly scars down his arms. His hair had grown somewhat and hung over his shirt collar. He shook the water from his hands and turned off the faucet. He quickly dried his hands and tugged down the sleeves of his shirt, buttoning the cuffs to hide his scars.

As Spencer returned to the lounge, he noticed that his cell phone had lit up with a message. He slipped his stainless steel watch over his left hand and picked up his cell. He smiled softly at the message on his screen.

Mel: I'm on the train to New York now for the conference. I'll let you know when I get settled. Call you tonight?

Spencer: Stay safe and enjoy. Speak to you tonight.

Spencer's heart fluttered. His relationship with Mel had truly blossomed. They both shared many interests. Some nights, they would enjoy a movie or episodes of Dr. Who or Star Trek. On other nights, they would simply read, enjoying being in each other's company. Yet, he and Mel were also very different people. He had been truly taken aback when he had decided to surprise Mel with breakfast, only to walk in on her listening to some sort of heavy metal. She had been at the kitchen counter, swaying her hips and bobbing her head in time to the music. She had not noticed Spencer until she turned around, and he had set the takeout cups down on the coffee table and had his hands pressed over his ears to stifle the noise. None of that mattered, though. Spencer had not felt a swell of love like this since Maeve. It scared Spencer knowing that Mel was going to be so far away from him, moreso if the team got a case that sent him to some unknown area of America, but she had been excited to attend a Department of Corrections conference in New York, particularly to consider opportunities available to her for promotion. If there was one thing Spencer was certain of, was that Mel knew how to take care of herself and more than deserved to climb the ranks.

Spencer pocketed his phone, credentials, and handcuffs. He clipped his ID card to his belt and slid his Smith and Wesson into the brown leather holster on his belt. He shrugged his grey, almost black blazer on and reached for his beloved satchel. Emily had had Spencer's belongings sent from San Quentin. He slung his satchel over his shoulder and grabbed his keys. He gave his apartment one last glance before exiting and locking the door behind him.

11/09/2019. 07:24 hours. FBI Offices, Quantico, Virginia.

It felt like Spencer had returned home when he pushed open the glass doors to the bullpen. Most of the desks were empty, with the majority of agents not due to start yet. Spencer groaned inwardly at the pile of reports on his desk. No rest for the wicked… Spencer weaved around the desks until he reached his own. As he tugged his satchel over his head, he frowned as his eyes fell on a handwritten post-it note stuck to his computer monitor. He tore it off the screen and peered at it.