Killer Affair | Spencer Reid Short Story

Cover Up

Spencer

I was sitting looking at the most recent case, something about it doesn't sit right with me. It's looks all too familiar.

Gwen burst into my apartment like a gale, slamming the door behind her with a shaking hand. Her face was pale, her hair a wild halo around her shoulders, and her eyes—I'd never seen such panic in them before. Normally, Gwen was composed, even detached, but tonight, she was almost unrecognizable.

"Spencer, I messed up," she whispered, barely able to catch her breath. I could see her hands trembling as she clutched her jacket to her chest. She was... afraid. And something in me froze.

"What happened?" My voice sounded too loud in the silence.

She pressed her fingers against her temples, her eyes squeezing shut as she took a shuddering breath. "I... I left something behind. The knife. I don't know how, but I forgot to take it with me. I was so careful, but when I got home, I realized it was missing. And now—now it's at the scene. The same scene you were at last night."

The same case I'd been assigned to with the team. The murder. The blood. The knife she'd used—the weapon she was supposed to dispose of, her only link to the crime. My chest tightened as I thought about the evidence room back at Quantico, about the chain of custody, the relentless documentation of every item brought in.

"They're probably processing it right now," I said, the words thick in my mouth. "They could be running fingerprints, DNA. You could be implicated, Gwen."

She nodded, looking even more desperate. "That's why I came here. I don't have anyone else. I know it's wrong, and I know it's... it's asking everything from you. But, Spencer... please. I don't know what to do. I need your help."

My heart was a thunderstorm in my chest, every beat drumming louder and louder. I should have said no—I knew that. My training, my morals, everything I'd built my life on was telling me to get out, to call my team, to let them handle this. But when I looked at Gwen, I saw someone vulnerable, someone raw and afraid, someone who trusted me. The part of me that cared for her, despite everything, wouldn't let me turn away.

I forced myself to think through the logistics. "Alright," I murmured, swallowing the guilt that clawed up my throat. "Maybe... if they haven't processed everything yet, we could find a way to pull it from the evidence locker before it's catalogued. It's a long shot, but..."

Relief washed over her, and her fingers wrapped around mine, squeezing hard. "Thank you. Thank you, Spencer," she whispered, her voice trembling.

As I felt her cold, shaky fingers intertwined with mine, I realized the full weight of what I was agreeing to. This was dangerous, reckless. My team—my friends—were on this case. They trusted me, counted on me to do my job, to uphold the same laws that Gwen had shattered. And here I was, about to betray them.

I grabbed my coat, pulling it on with stiff hands. "We need to be quick. If it's already in the database, there's nothing we can do. But if I can just get into evidence handling..." I let the thought hang in the air, not wanting to put any more detail into words.

Gwen nodded, her expression shifting from desperation to grim determination. "Just tell me what to do."

We took my car. I barely heard her as she kept muttering apologies under her breath, a continuous stream of "I'm sorry" that grated against my nerves. Each word only added to the weight pressing down on me, a suffocating reminder of what I was risking. The BAU team had taught me to trust my gut, to listen to the part of myself that knew right from wrong, but tonight, I was ignoring every warning. I'd buried it all under the need to help her, to protect her.