Dr. Spencer Reid Imagines

Pursuit of Happiness.

(TRIGGER WARNING!! THIS WILL HAVE CIGARETTE USE AS WELL AS RAPE, ABUSE, AND SELF-HARM. PLEASE DONT READ IF THESE TOPICS TRIGGER YOU. THERE ARE OTHER STORIES THAT DONT CONTAIN THIS.)

You were seated on your bedroom floor with tears running down your face. You took another drag from your cigarette. You had quit smoking a few months before but quickly you picked the horrible habit back up.  You had been triggered to start again. You had been raped.  You had resumed another bad habit after the rape had occurred. You started self-harming again.

No one knew about the rape. You didn't want anyone to know about it. Especially not your roommate and long-time best friend Spencer. Spencer worked for the FBI and was on his way home from a case but you had calculated that he wouldn't be home for another hour and a half which was enough time for you to smoke a cigarette and place a few more cuts on your wrist. It was cold so you would be wearing sweaters and long sleeved tops anyways.

You took one last drag from the cigarette before putting it out on your arm. You winced at the burning sensation. It hurt but you enjoyed the pain. You scanned your arm, seeing that the fresh cuts were still slightly bleeding. You reached for the blade that was resting on the floor next to you. Pressing it to your skin and dragging, you let out a little whimper. The cutting felt horrible but good. It was like yin and yang. You repeated the steps, except this time you were interrupted.

Your bedroom door flew open. You jumped and averted your gaze to a wide-eyed Spencer. He had a smile when he opened the door but it quickly faded. The surprise of the door opening had caused you to drop the blade.

"S-Spencer. You're home early." you tried to converse. There was no way that you would get out of this without being questioned by the profiler.

Spencer squatted down, snagging the blade and the carton of cigarettes from the floor.

"Y/N what the hell are you doing?" he breathed. Once you studied his face you could see he was holding back tears. You couldn't control the tears that had started flowing. Spencer looked around quickly, grabbing a shirt and applying pressure to your wrist.

"Spencer, there's a good reason. I promise." you sobbed.

"Why?" he asked, a soft yet stern tone.

"I started dating again. I was getting lonely and I wanted to meet someone. I found a guy while I was bartending and we agreed to meet at the bar the following night. Once we got there, we hit it off and things were going really well. After an hour or so, he asked me to go back to his place with him to get to know each other better. Long story short," you hesitated, staring at the floor. Spencer cupped your chin and forced you to maintain eye contact. He was still applying pressure to your bleeding wrist. You sighed before continuing. "Long story short, he forced himself on me. He raped me. I couldn't get him off of me. Now I feel worthless and dirty." you cried.

You saw a change in Spencer's facial expression. He was PISSED. He slipped out momentarily to grab bandages and came back to wrap your arm. He examined all the cuts and burn marks, tears falling from his eyes. He wrapped your arm and shifted his gaze back to you.

"What was his name?" he demanded. He had his phone in his hand now.

"No Spencer, it's fi-" you were cut off by Spencer talking over you.

"His name Y/N. NOW." his teeth were gritted and he didn't hide the rage in his voice.

"Liam. Liam Johnson." you whispered. You saw him tap his phone screen a few times and saw that he was making a call. You didn't need to think too hard about who he was calling. Hotch. You and the members of the BAU were very close because of Spencer and when it came to you, Spencer and Hotch didn't fuck around.