Front Lines| Spencer Reid + Anne Grey

fifteen

Grey and Reid were sat on the couch, each reading different books. Spencer had a copy of Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri in his hands, flipping a page every thirty seconds. By the looks of it, he was a bit distracted, glancing at Anne every few minutes.

He still hadn't brought up the letters yet, as he was trying to find a decent time to do such, which seemed impossible. There was no easy way to explain it. Lawrence was trying to make contact, and Reid was tempted.

Grey was curled up on the right side of the couch, a blanket wrapped around her as she read Insomnia by Stephen King. She would adjust her glasses every now and then, but other than that, she was motionless.

Hesitantly interrupting her reading, Spencer finally says, "Hey, so, there's something I need to tell you about." He marks the page in his book, shutting it and looking at Anne.

She copies his procedure, looking up as well and tentatively asking, "What?" She changes her position on the couch, sitting up straight.

"JJ pulled me aside this morning, and she gave me these. She said they had been coming in for a while." He leans over, grabbing three envelopes from his bag and handing them to Anne.

She squints, bringing one closer to her face and reading the return address on it. "DC Central Detention- god fucking damn it." The dots had instantly connected. Reid wouldn't have been so soft-spoken about the letters, had they not been from Lawrence. She takes note of the fact that they were addressed to him, and not herself.

"Did he threaten you?" Grey asks, looking back at Spencer. "I'll fucking kill him, I swear to-"

"No, no, he didn't." Reid doesn't take his gaze away from her. "He wants me to visit him."

Anne doesn't quite manage to acknowledge that statement, restating, "I should've fucking killed him." She starts taking the letters out of the envelopes, scanning each one, trying to understand the situation as well as Reid did.

It wasn't as bad as it could have been, but it still pissed her off to see Lawrence's handwriting again. She had his life in her hands back in December, and the way she saw it, she had granted him another chance. Grey felt weak, like she should have persisted with finishing him.

At first, she wanted to exit the situation. She wanted to storm out of the room and be alone to think about everything. It should be her problem, but Lawrence had made it clear that he wanted it to be Spencer's, too. It wasn't fair to remove Reid from the situation, but she sure as hell wanted to.

Still, though, it wasn't the worst thing in the world. It was just letters. Stupid paper reminders of someone in the past. That was it.

Eventually getting through the three letters, Grey tries to keep some sort of composure, leaning forward and setting the envelopes on the coffee table, along with the letters themselves. She had decided to try and stay calm. It was stupid to try and complicate something as simple as communicating with her boyfriend. It was their problem to handle, not just Anne's.

"Are you okay?" Spencer inquires.

That was the same exact question he had asked last year, when the first letter from Lawrence had been delivered to the BAU. The question had lead to every bit of vulnerability Grey and Reid now shared (or, at least, tried to share) with each other. It was hard to get to the point where they actually discussed something as complex as emotions, and they were both still trying their best to become less guarded.

Grey didn't find any problem answering his question. "I'm fine. He can't do anything to anyone. He's in a cage sobbing to the man that broke his nose. He's a pathetic bitch." She leans back on the couch, closing her eyes and letting out a small sigh. She was unsure if that statement was even honest. Was she fine?