Broken Goods - Criminal Minds - Spencer Reid

Faulty

Bile burned the back of my throat.

The sudden surge rose so fast that I'd barely had the time to make it to the bathroom, if I'd even picked the right one wasn't a concern as I hugged the cold porcelain.

If this had been a better situation, I'd have had a light laugh at how my boyfriend would probably douse me in bleach and only touch me whilst wearing gloves, he was a germaphobe at the best of times although he'd gotten a little better since I'd met him.

Only now I didn't want him to touch me, through no fault of his own.

But how could I knowing another woman was carrying his child?

There was another harsh pull on my gag reflex which mixed with a sob, my body lurching forward at if trying to expel an unwanted presence.

After everything he'd been through already because of that vile woman, if it wasn't her then Mr Scratch posed an imminent threat to his entire team.

Dr. Spencer Reid, arrested for possession of drugs, driving whilst under influence and suspected murder.

The same Dr. Reid who had sworn off drugs and was trying to his hardest to look out for his mother, the man with a heart of gold and the face of a puppy was suspected of murder.

Everything he had worked so hard to achieve was now thrown away as these insane women framed him.

And worse.

My heart clenched in pain at the thought of what he's been through and only grew worse thinking of what was yet to come.

We had been trying so hard for so long.

We had both decided that we wanted children, despite Spencer's initial hesitation.

We'd spend hours discussing the pros and cons and took everything into consideration before going for it, we had decided to try for a family of our own.

Despite our efforts, nothing had come to fruition and after many hours of yet more conversation, tears and reasoning, we decided to continue trying whilst also looking at other options available to us.

Though I dreaded saying it, I knew it was entirely my fault.

For years I have been taking Metformin to fight my polycystic ovaries, but I had never gone to get my fertility tested.

I knew that there was every chance that I was infertile, but Spencer's reassurance and comfort set my worries aside.

"With everything considered, such as my job and living arrangements and continuing uncertainties, I think it'd be a good idea to do this in a 'if it happens, it happens' kind of way."

His uncharacteristic plan of not planning surprised me, but I had smiled and agreed anyway, knowing that he was avoiding a trip to the doctor's office to confirm our worst fear.

"Besides, we all know that trying to take blood from you is as good as cutting a rock."

We had both laughed at that, but it was true.

Months of needle poking, IV's and blood tests between the ages of twelve and fourteen had seemed to have dried up my blood supply, now my veins seemed to only be there for decoration.

At least until you tried to put a needle in them, then they would disappear into some void within my flesh.

Many had tried and just as many had failed, few had succeeded in getting the smallest dribble from me.

Now any attempt left me feeling unbearably woozy and sick.

Those facts combined with not wanting to find out the worst left him completely understanding, this was mostly from his own reluctance to learn the cause of his headaches.