❝ But I'm only human
and I bleed when I fall down ❞
The Behavioral Analysis Unit team around Aaron Hotchner gets called in to assist on a serial killer case in New York where they meet the young and surprisingly talented Special Agent Skylar Brown...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Spencer awoke to a knock on his door. He checked the clock on his phone, 2:00 am. With a frown, he lifted himself off the sofa, placed the book about seat turtles on his living room table and slowly made his way to the door. He had slept with his revolver still in its holster, so he placed a hand upon the metal.
Why would someone knock if they wanted to break in? Sometimes he wondered if he was even a genius to begin with.
He opened the door to a face that he knew all too well. She had taken off her makeup, blonde curls tied into a messy bun. Without any concealer to cover the bags under her eyes she looked even more like she hadn't slept well in days, weeks even.
Spencer broke the silence first. "Sky, what—"
But she just dropped her bags to the floor and said, "Stretch out your arms."
"What?"
"Stretch out your arms!"
Spencer did as he was told. She placed her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso, holding his large figure tightly against her small one. He should've seen that coming, but he didn't.
"I've come to give you this," she said.
He slowly placed his arms around her. Skylar seemed so fragile in his hands, broken with the weight of the world resting in her shoulders, but only for that moment and while he held her, she felt free from the pain. There were no words spoken, yet both knew exactly how miserable the other was.
"At two am?" Spencer asked.
"At two am."
He smiled. "Thank you."
She inhaled his scent one last time before she broke the contact and looked at him with tired eyes. Spencer couldn't avert his gaze. His arms still held onto hers, staring at her like she was the brightest star in the galaxy. A constellation too beautiful to even ignore.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Skylar asked.
"Like what?" He asked.
"Just... like that. I don't know." Her lips formed into a yawn.
He chuckled, confused and content — she was sleep deprived.
"Yeah," Skylar said, "like that."
The pale light of his apartment illuminated her face. Maybe he should've told her how beautiful she looked, maybe he should've pulled that loose strand of blonde hair back behind her ear and gazed at her some more to take another mental picture.
And maybe he should've kissed her, too.
After a moment of confusion, Skylar spoke up again. "What do you say?" She asked. "How does takeout, wine and a movie sound?"
In her hands she held two plastic bags and her go-back was laying on the ground next to her. She came prepared which put Spencer in an even worse spiral because why does she have to be so perfect?
