Spencer Reid x Reader One-Shots

Nothing Else Matters

Title: Nothing Else Matters

Word Count: 743

Summary: In the aftermath of the reader being kidnapped and tortured by George Foyet, Spencer comforts her. (Established relationship.)

Rating: T (descriptions of torture)

Requested by: The_Bionic_Fangirl

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     Your apartment felt unfamiliar. Cold.

     You knew it was illogical to believe this; you hadn't been gone from it for more than a week. You'd spent more time out on cases, for god's sake, so it didn't make sense for it to have felt so foreign to you. Nevertheless, upon walking in again, you felt just that. You felt a burning desire to leave it, to get away, as far from the place as you could.

     You didn't.

     Instead, you put your bags down at the entrance and sat down on your couch- it felt stiffer, more unused than ever- and closed your eyes.

     The trouble was, whenever you closed your eyes you saw his.

     It had started an ordinary day, you recalled. The team had been working to find George Foyet and stop the murders. They were coming more frequently and the team was exhausted, so you went out to get some coffee.

     The moment you walked out of Quantico, you were vulnerable. You knew that. But the need for coffee lured you from safety.

     You were hardly a few paces from the coffee shop when he was on you. In an instant, he shot you up with tranquilizer and dragged you into his car, or so the surveillance system said. You remembered nothing from the incident but a sharp pain and then black nothingness.

     He tied you to a chair. He burned you and cut you and took photos to send to the team. All throughout this torture he wore a manic grin, and it was seared into your retinas.

     And even now, he was still out there. The team had gotten to you, but not before he had escaped.

     Back at square one.

     A single tear slips down your cheek. He could come back for you. That's what he was showing Hotch. He could get to anyone on the team, anytime, anywhere, and Hotch was powerless. He could come for anyone.

      A knock at your door brings you out of your reverie. You jolt upright from you slumped position, eyes wide; logically, you knew it couldn't be Foyet. Nevertheless, every instinct screamed for you to run.

      You steady yourself, standing and moving to the door slowly. With a shaking hand, you unlock it and pulled it open.

     Brown doe eyes and floppy hair greet you; out of everything that you deemed to be yours, Spencer is the only familiar thing.

     "Y/N," he says, almost like a sigh. He edges forward, into your apartment, but seems unsure. You step back, permitting him entrance, which he accepts almost warily.

     You look up at him. You know he can see the tears on your cheeks, in your eyes, but you hold still. You hold your breath, hold your tears back.

     And he moves forward, in that instant, and holds you.

     It's as if a dam is broken. You clutch him to you tightly, and the tears began to flow freely. Words were unnecessary in the way he held you; you knew what he wanted to say. You're safe; nothing else matters. You knew how he felt, and you knew how you felt. You were sure he knew, too.

     The time you spent standing there in each other's arms was finite. This you knew- at least, logically. Somehow, it felt like infinity. Finally, when you pulled back, his shirt was soaked and you regarded each other with misty eyes.

     "I love you," Spencer says, tipping your face up to kiss away the tears.  "You're safe, Y/N. You're safe with me."

     "I know," you say in a shaking voice, "and I love you too."

     "Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, tentative.

     "I don't know if I can right now," you tell him honestly.

      "Okay. That's okay. What do you want to do?" He says, pulling you forward to sit on the couch again.

      You rest your head on his shoulder, a sigh escaping your mouth. "Spence, could you read to me?"

     You can hear the smile in his voice. "Of course."

     He reaches into his satchel and pulls out a book- To Kill A Mocking Bird by Harper Lee. You cuddle closer and he brushes your hair back as he opens the book and begins to read.