Checkmate {Spencer Reid}

10

TW: mentions of abuse, lung cancer, miscarriage.

Spencer's POV
We arrived at the station and met the rest of the team, then looking as tired as us. Fiona hasn't to me since the cafe, and I can't blame her, if I was in the same position I'd be acting the same way.

Me and Prentiss went over victimology, Morgan, Rossi, and JJ checked out the crime scenes, and Hotch and Fiona went to talk to the victims families.

None of them came back with anything which was disappointing, but as we went over victimology again I realized something, they all signed up for an online dating app at some point or another. I told the team and they agreed it was something to check out, it took Garcia 47 seconds to hack into each account and send us the information on each match the girls had.

I'm so glad we have her, it would've taken ages.

"Alright, everyone head to their hotel rooms, go over each person they matched with and see if she saw anyone more than once or if they seem shady, we'll meet back again tomorrow.

We agreed and all headed back, Fiona and I reached our room and she headed out to the balcony with her end of the stack, bringing her cigarettes with her. I decided to join her.

She looked at me but didn't say anything, instead lighting her cigarette and inhaling the smoke. It seemed as soon as the toxic air was in her lungs she didn't seem so tense.

It seemed like hours on the balcony, not finding a single lead. She's been through three cigarettes, about to light her fourth one, "Four?" I ask, hoping she'd stop for tonight.

Without saying anything she puts out the flame and puts the cancer sticks down on the floor next to her and I sigh with relief. "Why do you smoke, if you don't mind me asking."

"I do mind."

"Oh"

"But it's fine. My dad smoked, guess I picked it up from him." I look at her, a bit surprised she opened up to me, even if it was that little piece of information. I decided not to push it, wanting her to be comfortable.

I went back to looking at our files but noticed she watched the sun go down, "I used to scold him for it."

"Who? Your father?" She nods, refusing to look at me, "I always told every time he smokes, he'd lose 7 minutes with me."

"Really?" She nods again, her eyes a bit glazed. "I used to say the same thing to my mom." She now turns her head to look at me, eyes wide. "You did?"

"Yes, but she never really stopped." She gives me a small smile before turning back to the sunset. "He used to promise me every year on my birthday he would stop. For me." She stays silent for a couple seconds, taking deep breaths. I want to reach my arm out to her in an attempt for comfort, but I don't speak or move, the air feeling like fragile glass, and I don't want to be the one to break it.

"But every promise ended up breaking, I would smell the cigarettes on him after he came home from work, although he never really tried. He always apologized to me, trying to make things better but he made no attempt to stop. He died of lung cancer a couple years ago."

My heart broke for her, but I stayed quiet. "I should have tried harder." Her voice broke and the tears started flowing, pulling her legs to her chest and hugging her knees.

"No no, there's nothing more you could have done, to did your best Fiona, this isn't your fault." I had no idea what to say to her, she blamed herself for her fathers passing. "This is embarrassing." She sniffed, and got up, "I should go."