The Keeping of Words | Spencer Reid

40| Ours

It was getting late, the cold wind a biting reminder that he had other places he should be right now. The message wasn't quite reaching his feet though, which remained stubbornly planted on the ground as he stared into the distance long after the truck with Cat Adams in it had disappeared from view. Entropy. The universe was always moving towards chaos, and for once he felt content to just sit there and let it happen. What was the point in fighting? He struggled and he struggled, and the world continued to throw curveballs his way. Seeing as though he was hopeless as sports, it seemed futile to keep trying to resist, to manage and get a few points on the board for himself.

The hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. "Hey. That was an intense case," Morgan said. Reid just nodded. "I'm gonna go home and check on Garcia. Maybe celebrate a little. You can come if you want."

"Thanks, but I'm not really in the mood to celebrate. I kind of just want to..." He trailed off unsure of how to finish that sentence. He wanted to turn back time and come home sooner. He wanted to save his mom. He wanted to take back every word that Cat had stolen from him. More than anything he wanted to shake this feeling that everything was falling apart around him.

"Yeah, I figured. That's why I called her."

Her. He didn't have to ask. When he turned over his shoulder, she was there, walking towards him from Savannah's car. The one person in the world he wanted to see right now.

"Thank you," he told Morgan. Somehow he'd known that what he needed more than anything right now was to be alone with Bianca.

He offered a subtle smile, and began to walk away before thinking better of it. "Hey, kid. Can I tell you something?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Morgan walked back to him. He put one hand on Reid's shoulder to pull him closer, wrapping him in a tight hug. "I just, um..."

"Yeah," Reid repeated.

"You know?"

"I know." He buried his head in the crook of Morgan's leather jacket, hugging him back just as tight. Some things didn't need words. Even if he never said it, Morgan had never given him reason to doubt it. "I know."

"Good. 'Cause I mean it." They stood there a moment longer before Morgan pulled away, giving him one last clap on the shoulder. Turning to Bianca he said, "He's all yours."

And he always would be. Reid took her hand and walked to the steps of the restaurant where they sat down together. Their knees touched and when she leaned against his shoulder he could finally feel the tight string of tension in his chest relax just a little. This was where he belonged, by her side.

"I'm sorry I couldn't call. We couldn't risk giving the network a chance to trace me."

"I know," she said. But out of the corner of his eye, he caught that telltale sign, her fingers pressed against her collarbone. "Spencer, what happened?"

He heaved a sigh. It was hard to tell what was bothering him more – what had happened in Vegas, or the fact that he'd been forced to tell his team before he was ready, and Cat before his wife. The words had been hard enough to say, but he'd thought she would be the first one to hear them. If there was one person he wanted to know this, it was her.

There was a chance he might have never been able to tell her, had tonight gone differently. Calculations were what he did best, and calculating risk was supposed to keep the team safe. Even though he'd considered every possible outcome, every scenario, he knew how close he'd come to taking one risk too many. Even from the beginning, it was dangerous. And he'd been a little too reckless, still tired from the flight and still angry about everything that had happened in the last five weeks.