The Red Lounge ~Spencer Reid x Reader ~

Battling Life

(Y/n) makes a new friend, and finds herself maybe in over her head.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jbZ98UuFmaM

Leaving a toxic relationship seems so easy from the outside, but I couldn't get myself to break away from the man-child I had been dating for the last three years, mostly out of nostalgia. But when I came home from a vacation with some college friends to see not only apartment trashed, but finding my boyfriend in bed with his ex, it was the push I needed to drop his ass and move over 600 miles to DC. I was tired of the winters in Maine, and I had a degree in politics, may as well use it. I wasn't expecting to waltz onto Capitol Hill my first day, so I had to climb like everyone else. But I would rather climb from the Nation's Capital.

Making ends meet in a new city when you had legitimately up and left on a whim with what you could fit in the back of a 1996 Honda Civic was never an easy task. But, I had managed to find a job at a small coffee shop downtown to tide me over during the day. All I needed was a cheap apartment sublease, and I would be a lot better off than I was six months ago, hell, I was a lot better off than I was a week ago.

Come the end of the school year, more apartments opened up around the city as students left to return home, and to my advantage, a second floor apartment came free in a quiet suburb. The landlord was an older lady who really didn't care much about anything, the income was just to bolster her already hefty retirement fund. She had asked for $2000 up front, which gave me two months to get the $750 for the next month's rent. 50 hours a month at $15 an hour? Easy.

And it was.

Until my car took its final breath one early June morning, the long haul from Bangor, Maine killing the engine, and in my heart, I knew it would cost more to replace the car than it was worth. So, with an emotional goodbye, I said farewell to my car of the last 6 years, and watched as she was carted away by a tow truck down to the scrap yard, my arms heavy with groceries....Three miles from my apartment.

I had just set my bags down for what felt like the hundredth time, not used to the heat of summer in the south (or at least, south for me), when a man rounded the corner, jogging. I stepped to the side, giving him the space to pass as I dumped myself down on a rockwall, letting my head hang slightly. He stopped instantly, concern evident on his face. He pulled out an earphone and crouched in front of me, waving his hand in front of my face to catch my attention. I tried not to pant as I looked up at him.

"Hey... are you okay?" He asked, his dark skin coated in a thin layer of sweat compared to the rivers of sweat no doubt coursing down mine.

I nodded, entirely unconvincingly. "What? Oh yea! I'm just grand." I replied breathlessly. He raised an eyebrow to show how unconvinced he was, until his eyes drifted down to the 20 or so bags I had with me, and my lack of a car.

"That store is 10 blocks from here..." He pointed out, and I nodded. "And you're clearly not from Virgina, so I'm gonna hazard a guess that you just moved in." I nodded again, a bit sheepishly. "Well, I'll tell you what. My name's Derek, I live down the street with my wife Savannah, how about we head over there and I'll give you a ride home?"

Alarm bells instantly went off in my head. Not only had he been able to tell I wasn't from here, but he was going full serial killer on me. Did he think I was that stupid? He could read my obvious trepidation on my face, so he pulled out his wallet, and pulled out his driver's license, handing it to me. I inspected it, and realized that he did, in fact, live down the road, was named Derek, and was an organ donor. How nice. "Promise not to trap me in a basement and send my parts one by one to my mom?" He ducked his head, an infection smiled on his face as he laughed.

"I promise." He replied, still laughing as he stood, before offering me his hand. I gladly accepted his help, and only protested for a moment when he grabbed two handfuls of my bags, only leaving the bags of bread and crackers for me to carry.