𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒 ; spencer reid ¹

2.5

❝There is immeasurably more left inside than what comes out in words.❞

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

✩

2.5 : you're safe here

THE HAIRS ON THE BACK OF FIN'S NECK STAND UP. HER EYES FLY OPEN, AND THE PROFILER IN HER KICKS IN. Don't draw attention. Scan the room. She pushes herself up a few inches, keeping the blanket on her bed tucked under her chin, and makes note of everything in her field of vision.

Bed. Closet, half open. She left it like that last night.

Chair. Clothes draped over it. Her outfit for tomorrow.

Quote wall. Light from the window flickering on a quote written in purple pen. Probably Austen.

Nightstand. East of Eden, half-finished, a dog-eared page marking her place.

Clock. It reads 2:41. Four hours and nineteen minutes until she has to get up.

No one is in here.

So why does her gut say something is wrong?

Another fifteen minutes goes by and still Fin's wide awake, her stomach churning terribly and goosebumps running down her bare legs. She rolls onto her back and listens for a moment, hearing cars in the distance, the gentle buzzing of the bugs outside, and Spencer's quiet breathing in the other room, a sound that's become familiar over the past week and a half.

Spencer.

Fin sits up, runs a hand through her hair. Should she? It's strange, but she can't think of anything else to do.

So she grabs a blanket from the end of the bed, wraps it around her shoulders, and pads softly into the living room, shivering–but not entirely from the cold.

Spencer's curled up on her couch beneath a quilt she's had for years, snoring softly, one lock curl draped carelessly over his forehead. He looks so peaceful. Fin chews on her lip. Should she wake him?

The emotional side of her brain says no, but the practical side says Someone could be outside. He should know.

So she whispers, "Spencer."

He stirs and mutters something unintelligible.

"Spencer."

Spencer's eyelids fly open and he sits up, hand already grasping for his gun. "What? What is it?"

Fin's suddenly aware of how vulnerable she feels, standing barefoot in her pajamas, wrapped in a blanket, in her living room. "Um... I've got this weird feeling," she breathes, pulling the blanket tighter around her. "Like–like someone's here. Or outside. Like someone's watching me."

Spencer sits up straighter and it's abundantly clear that he's not wearing a shirt. "Did you see anyone outside? Did you hear anything?"

"No," Fin replies, feeling slightly stupid. "But I just woke up and felt like someone was... I don't know, watching me or near me."

"Okay." Spencer runs a hand over his face, blinking sleep from his eyes. "Okay. Do you need me to stay up with you?"

"No." She shakes her head. "No, I'm fine. I just... I thought you should know. In case someone is out there." And she turns to go back into her bedroom, but something deep inside stops her. "Spencer?"

"What?"

"Am I being stupid? About this thing?"

"No." Spencer stands up and pads over to her. He's wearing nothing but striped pajama pants, which Fin's very grateful for, but she's never seen him shirtless before, let alone 2 a.m. "You're not being stupid. Gut feelings come from non-conscious sensory perceptions, meaning your body is sensing something subconsciously and letting your brain know that there's something wrong, and they're usually highly accurate. Trust your instincts."

Fin lets out a long breath, closing her eyes. "Okay."

Spencer leans over to adjust the blanket on the sofa, probably so he can lay back down, and Fin panics. "Spencer?" She isn't prepared for this. It was a knee-jerk reaction.

Spencer turns around again. "Hm?"

"I can't sleep." It comes out as a whisper."Will–will you stay with me?"

Spencer's eyebrows go up, but not in a bad way. He nods slowly. "Yeah. Yes, sure. What–what did you–I mean–"

"There's room for two in there, Spencer," Fin says, a tired grin spreading on her face.

There's something very intimate about sharing a bed with someone, feeling them near you as you sleep. Fin never imagined a queen-size bed could feel so small, even though she and Spencer are lying as far apart as they possibly can. They haven't been this close since that infamous kiss in Dallas, and neither of them are sure how to handle it.

But try as she might, Fin still can't fall asleep. "Spencer?" she whispers after fifteen minutes of restlessness.

"Mm?"

She rolls over to face him and he's already looking at her, his face resting on his hand, his curls falling in his eyes. "Spencer, I'm scared," she breathes, and it's one of the most true things she's said in a long time.

And then Spencer does something Fin never expected. He reaches out and pulls her into his chest, holding her close, his arms tight around her waist, and murmurs, "I promise you're safe here, Hazel."

Her breath catches in her throat. They are closer than they've ever been here, just the thin fabric of her t-shirt between them, her skin burning against his, their hearts beating in tandem. She can feel his breath on the top of her head, the press of his fingers against her hipbone a question of if they should stay like this.

But this feels...right.

So Fin wraps her arms around his waist and leans her head on his chest, matching her breath to the beating of his heart and answering yes.

The goosebumps are gone.

And she falls asleep with his thumb tracing circles on her bare hip and her hand in his hair, ignoring the butterflies and the kiss and everything but this closeness that she never realized she missed.

Spencer doesn't fall asleep until close to 4 a.m. because he can't stop watching her smiling in her sleep.

Neither of them realize how close they're tipping toward the edge, how close they are to falling. And even if they knew, neither of them would care.

~

felt cute, wrote some fluff xx

i'm not a big fan of filler chapters, and this does actually set up the next few chapters, BUT it was a great excuse to write cute spenley things

also i feel like i should mention none of this is edited, so i might occasionally edit without warning. 

peace out queens !