Profile//Spencer Reid//Criminal Minds

Chapter Twenty-Five

I pulled my gun from my holster, slowly pushing the door open.

I moved swiftly around the apartment, searching it for the intruder.

The books were strewed all over the floor, one lamp was knocked over and, in the bedroom, only my clothes were thrown out the dresser and the closet.

I dialed Reid's number, still clutching the gun in my hand as I sat on the bed.

"Hey, I'm about to leave the office now, did you wanna get someth-"

"Someone broke into the apartment."

"What? Are you alright? Is he still there?" Reid asked. "Morgan will be there in a few minutes."

"No, he's gone, it'll be fine."

"No, it's going to be a couple minutes before I get there, Morgan's already pulling into the complex," he said. "I gotta go, I love you."

My breath caught in my throat. We haven't said that we loved each other since we broke up.

Morgan appeared in the doorway, his gun in his hand. 

"Hey, what's going on, Reid texted me freaking out saying that someone broke in." He said, sitting down beside me.

"Something's wrong, Derek," I said, shaking my head. "Someone just breaks into my apartment without any warning or foreshadowing, it just doesn't make sense."

"You're a very well known FBI Agent, there are going to be people out there with a vendetta." Morgan says.

"They strewed stuff in the living room, but only messed with my things in the bedroom," I sighed. "Morgan, this is personal."

Reid came in, engulfing me in his arms before saying anything. "Are you okay?"

"I'm all right." I said into his shoulder.

Later that night, I laid there, my head against Reid's chest, my eyes wide open.

His heartbeat thumped against my ear, his hand set securely on my hip.

"Are you still awake?" I asked.

"Yeah." He replied.

My eyes were fixed on the doorway, just waiting for someone to come in.

"I'm scared, Spence." 

He sat up, bring me with him before looking into my eyes. "As long as I'm here, nothing's going to happen to you. Between us, we have at least 3 guns."

I chuckled softly, digging my face into his neck before closing my eyes.

Reid and I went to work tomorrow like nothing happened the night before.

I acted like I wasn't scared. Like what happened at our apartment didn't happen. 

Call it PTSD, whatever, but I could feel something coming. Something bad.

We got a case, but I found myself not being able to pay attention. Reid was making up for my lack of facts and for that I mentally thanked him for.

There was another bad case in DC, so there wasn't any flying this time. 

During the winter, did all the serial killers migrate to DC?

I was on my way back from a coffee break, all 5 of the hot coffees balancing in my hands as I walked down the street, making my way back to the FBI building.

I glanced over my shoulder, seeing a dark figure with their hood over their head, their head down as they walked far behind me. 

I quickened my pace, my converse hitting the sidewalk.