Spencer Reid One Shots

(22) Ghost- :);):(

A/N: This one shot has a bit of fluff, kinda of happy and kinda of sad.
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Your POV:
The soft ringing of my cellphone wakes me from my impromptu nap as I groan and reach towards the coffee table sitting in front of the couch I'm laying on. Picking up the phone, I look at the screen and see a phone number that I don't recognize. An eerie feeling creeps over me as I decline the call and set the phone back down on the table. A few seconds pass and a notification pops up on my cellphone screen reading 1 New Voicemail. Hesitating, I pick up the phone once again and press it to my ear.
"This call is for, um, Allison Keaton," says a familiar female voice through the phone speaker. "Allison, this is SSA Emily Prentiss; if you get this message, please give me a call back. It's urgent. Thank you, have a nice day."
A voicemail from Emily. The leader of the team that I haven't seen in 2 years.
[I remember the white lights on the ceiling. It took me a few seconds to realize I was sitting in a hospital bed.
"Hey, look who's up," Emily smiled as she stood up from the chair next to my bed and sat on the edge, near my feet. "You've been out for 2 days, it's nice to see your eyes open again," she gave a small chuckle and sighed in relief.
"Emily, I'm so sorry-" I started to say before she cut me off.
"Sorry for what?" She looked genuinely confused.
"I-I started a war with one of the most psychotic and sadistic people in the world a few years ago..."
"(Y/N), you were 19. A kid still. You could not have possibly known what would've happened."
"But I dragged the team into something that I should have handled myself. I got them involved in something that was my war to fight."
"Do not say that. This team is a family. We protect one another. You had a literal psychopath stalking and threatening you. There was no way that we were going to let you try to deal with him alone. You don't have to ask for help; that's the beauty of family. We're here to help, even when you don't ask for it." She smiled and put her hand over mine.
"Thank you," I wiped a tear that was trailing down my cheek. "So I've been out for 2 days, huh? Has Zac started talking yet or is he putting on his stubborn act?"
"That's, um, that's what I actually needed to tell you still. Zachary Trimble got away... When we tracked your phone to that storage unit in his name, it took us 17 minutes to get there. When we arrived, you were lying there in a pool of your own blood and it seemed he was long gone..." she trailed off without breaking eye contact.
"So what does this mean," I asked, terrified of the answer.
"Well, considering how dangerous he is and how easily he is able to track you down... Luke and I were discussing you being relocated," she managed to choke out before tears started to fall from her eyes.
"Relocated? To where? What do- How do I-" I started to question, in a panic.
"Nothing's set. It was just a suggestion. For your safety."
"Where would I even go?"
"I still have connections over at interpol in London, if you wouldn't mind the London air," she tried to crack a joke and I smiled at her effort.
"What does Spencer think?"
"He... he doesn't know. As far as the team knows, besides Alvez and I, you have been killed by Zachary Trimble."
"He thinks I'm dead? How... what do I...." I trailed off, starting to sob.
"Like I said, nothing's set yet. This would be temporary, though. For your safety, and for everyone else's." There was an enormous awkward silence filling the hospital room. "But for now, you need to get some rest. You can make your decision tomorrow."
By the next week, I was no longer SSA (Y/L/N). I was Allison Keaton. Personal assistant to the chief of interpol in London. I was going to be Allison Keaton indefinitely. Until it was safe to come back.]
What could Emily possible want? Anxious, I walk to desk sitting in the corner of my living room and pick up my copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar wild and flip to page 52. My eyes wander to the bottom corner of the left page and I look at the phone number scribbled into the paper. I pick up my phone and dial the number, the ringing ending after three rings.
"Prentiss." The answering voice says.
"Jackson Out Take," I reply with my code, hoping she says hers in return so that  I can actually speak.
"Supreme Washington Company," she says and I sigh in relief.
"Oh my gosh, Emily? How are you? I've missed your voice; we haven't spoken in forever! Is everything okay over there?" I say it all in one breath and I pause to inhale.
"Everything is wonderful here, (Y/N)," she starts to laugh, "I know. That's my fault, we've been so busy here, I haven't had time to just sit down and talk to you. Are you doing fine?"
"I'm good. What did you need to talk to me about? You said it's urgent?"
"Well, how would you like to come home?" I can hear the excitement in her voice and I can't help but tear up when she asks the question.
"W-wait, what? You got Zac?"
"Yeah, Garcia had been tracking him and we got a hit. We followed it, and after months of playing cat and mouse, we finally got him. You can come home, (Y/N)," she tells me and I have to blink a few times to make sure I'm not dreaming again.
"How soon?"
"As soon as you want. I can have a flight arranged for you tomorrow morning if you'd like," Emily offers.
"Can you make it the next day? I've made a few friends here and I'd like to say goodbye," I explain.
                                                             • • •
I shut the taxi door behind me and stare at the huge building standing in front of me. I haven't been to Quantico in 2 years and the memories come rushing back. Then it hits me: I haven't seen anyone from the team in 2 years. I never even got to say goodbye. Trying to shake my anxiousness away, I walk through the big doors and into the lobby to find Emily already waiting there for me.
"Emily!" I practically yell and run up to her, devouring her in a hug.
"Oh my God, (Y/N), I've missed you so much! It's so good to see your face," she smiles at me as we pull apart.
"I missed you, too, all of you."
"Especially Spence, I'm guessing," she says, her smile not leaving her face once.
"Yeah... oh my gosh, he's going to hate me..." I realize.
"He's not going to hate you; believe me, he will be feeling the opposite of hate, actually," she says, leading me towards the elevator. I place my bag down on the table for the guard to look through and we walk through the metal detector, one by one, before stepping into the elevator. "You two were in such a good place before you left, he'll be ecstatic to see you."
"That's the thing, Em, we had been dating for, what, 8 months before I left? And I couldn't even tell him I was still alive." I start to panic for what's waiting for me up in the bullpen.
"(Y/N), we've been over this a million times; you were just following direct orders. It wasn't just for your safety, it was for the safety of the team, as well. Don't worry," she puts her hand on my shoulder and gives it a small squeeze," it'll be fine." She gives me a reassuring smile and I take a big breath as the elevator stops at the BAU. We take a step to of the elevator and walk through the hall, making our way toward the bullpen. We pass the wall that's filled with pictures of deceased agents. I stop in my tracks when I see my picture. Emily is a few steps ahead of me and notices that I'm not by her side anymore. She walks back to me and stands on my right, looking at my picture, too. "I know, it feels weird right? Seeing your own picture up there. We'll get it taken down tonight," she says and continues walking. I follow close behind and notice the team isn't sitting at their desks. We move past the desks, and to the briefing room.
"Wait," I say and stop right in front of the shut door, "maybe I should wait a few days and-" I start to say before she cuts me off.
"(Y/N), I know you're nervous. But we have to do this now. Wait here for a second just so I can tell them to brace themselves." She opens the door slightly and slides in, almost closing it behind her, but leaving it a crack open so I can hear what they're saying. "Okay everyone, I know we're all wondering why I've called you in here," Emily starts. "Before the big announcement, I just want to tell you all that this was completely my idea. I did not make this decision quickly and without thought; it was not made lightly. This decision was made for the safety of the team. Come on out," she calls to me.
Exhaling, I push the door open and take a step in. The room is filled with gasps at first, and followed by an awkward silence.
"Oh my..." Penelope whispers. I analyze everyone's faces and each of them stare at me as if they're looking at a ghost.
"Hi," I say quietly and give a small smile. After my uncomfortable greeting, each member of the team comes up to me one by one to give me a hug and tell me how much they've missed me; each member except Spencer, who stands still, looking at me with a blank expression.
"Well, lets, um, give them some time to catch up. We all still have mountains of paperwork to do, must I remind you," Emily says. The team nods in agreement and make their way out of the room.
"We are getting dinner soon, lovely. We have SO MUCH to catch up on," Penelope says as she gives me one more tight hug before walking out the door. I giggle, enjoying the fact that she hasn't changed one bit. The door shuts behind her and Spencer and I are left alone in the room. For a bit, we just stare at each other.
Spencer's hair isn't as long as it was when I left. It's shorter, but stays in it's messy state. He's wearing a dark gray button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his veiny arms. His black slacks are tighter than I remember and on his feet are a black pair of Converse shoes. His coffee colored eyes are heavy, yet look so empty and I can't profile the expression on his face. Without a word, he picks up the stack of folders on the round table in front of him and and walks past me, to the door.
"Spencer, please say something-" I start.
"What, (Y/N)?" He turns around and his face is filled with a thousand emotions that I can't take in all at once. "What, do you want me to drop everything and jump up and down? Do you want me to pick you up and kiss you like you never left?"
"No, I just-"
"Do you want me to ask how the past two years has been for you? Because in case you were wondering, the past two years have been complete and utter SHIT for me! I've thought about you everyday for the past two years, one month, and eleven days! I cried in JJ's arms for months, I thought about taking Dilaudid again, I carried your goddamn coffin! Did you ever think how badly your decision was going to hurt me?" His voice is stern and his face is a little bit red.
"Are you fucking kidding me? You don't think I called Emily as much as I could these past two years to make sure that you were doing okay? You don't think I cried myself to sleep every night knowing how much I hurt you when I left? Believe me, Spencer, I know how much I hurt you. But it was either leave and hurt you, or stay and have you killed. And I would never have been able to forgive myself if I let the latter of the two happen," I huff out and cross my arms in defense. Shaking his head, he turns around again to the door and yanks it open, revealing the rest of the team standing there, presumably trying to listen to our argument.
"Ried-" Emily calls out as he pushes past them all, and toward his desk. The rest of the team turns to me and, at this point, I'm sobbing uncontrollably.
                                                             • • •
I'm sitting on the couch in Emily's office, waiting for her to come back, and can't stop thinking about my encounter with Spencer a few hours ago. As I'm replaying our conversation in my head, the door opens and in comes Emily with a folder in her hands.
"Well?" I stand up and ask.
"You passed the reinstatement exam with flying colors; not one question wrong," Emily smiles, "even after that little spat with Spencer, you were able to get a perfect score; very impressive." I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and look towards the ground, silently congratulation myself on my score, despite my feeling of defeat.
"So when do I take the physical exam?" I ask the question in an attempt to steer our conversation away from the mention of Spencer a second ago.
"Whenever you feel ready. Tomorrow if you'd like," she suggests with a pitiful, yet hopeful, smile. I shake my head and put my face in my hands.
"I just... need some time. Maybe just two or three days to get my shit together, y'know? Go apartment hunting and whatnot."
"Apartment hunting? But you live with Spencer?"
"I lived with Spencer two years ago before I left, Emily. A lot's changed... and by the looks of what happened in the round table room, Spencer doesn't want me around the house."
"Don't say that. Spencer is just... taking it all in. He'll be fine. But, if you must give him space, you can stay with me until you're ready to go back home. To YOUR home with Spencer." She closes her folder and starts to organize the paperwork on her desk.
"No, it's okay. I'll stay at a hotel for a bit. Honestly, if I stay with you I'll just get to comfortable and never end up leaving," I giggle lifelessly.
"Okay, but if you change your mind, I'm a call away. The offer always stands."
"Thanks, Em," I smile gratefully and stand up, "I think I'm going to get going, though. It's getting a little late and I've had a very long and eventful day."
"Well that's an understatement," she lets out a slight chuckle, "alright. Call me if you need anything. I'll be here with my paperwork for a while. Goodnight."
"I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, again," I say and shut her office door behind me. Walking down the stairs and into the actual bullpen I see that everyone is gone, except for Spencer, who seems to be heading out for the night, as well. I almost turn around and run back into Emily's office to wait until Spencer disappears into the elevator. I ignore the urge, though, and walk through the bullpen and right past his desk, to the elevators. I press the down button and wait for the doors the open, when I hear footsteps stop behind me. I turn around and make awkward eye contact with Spencer and turn back towards the elevator doors. A small ding goes off and the huge doors in front of us open.
"First floor, please, I'm taking the metro to my hotel." I say almost inaudible, as Spencer reaches for the floor number buttons.
"Hotel?"
"Yes, the Hilton on Colonial Street," I reply, still just above a whisper.
"You're not coming home?"
"Home?"
"To our home, (Y/N). It's still our home." He says, confusion filling his face.
"I didn't know if you'd want me back home, all of a sudden, after two years... I just wanted to give you space after our little spat in the round table room," I admit.
"No, come home. Please?" I look up and our eye contact is no longer awkward, but more loving. His eyes are big and full of concern and I can tell that he doesn't have any fight left in him.
"Okay." I agree and face forward. Our entire walk to the metro and ride home is filled with quiet noise, up until he unlocks the front door to our apartment. It looks exactly the same. The quilt that my grandmother made me is still sitting on the edge of the olive green sofa that Spencer bought when we decided to move in together. My stack of classical literature books is still in alphabetical order on the edge of the third bookshelf. The periwinkle vase on the counter in front of the kitchen has fresh sunflowers in it; something I've been doing since we moved in.
"N-nothing's changed..." I start to say.
"Yeah, I, uh, didn't have the strength throw it all out," he says as he takes off his coat and bag. He reaches for my coat, "Do you want me to hang that up for you?" I smile and hand it to him, taking a few steps forward after. Being gone for two years has definitely changed something inside of me. I feel like a stranger in my own home.
"So you can take our bed; the couch is comfortable enough for me," he starts to say, walking to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.
"Couch? No way you're sleeping out here, on this stiff couch. We can share the bed. It's a king size bed, after all," I state and walk to the bedroom. After opening the door, I see it's the same as the living room: exactly the same as when I left. I walk to the drawer wear I used to keep my pajamas and see that they're in the same spot. I grab a dark blue pair of Spencer's sweats (a pair that I stole so often that they stayed in my pajama drawer instead of his) and a gray t-shirt. After sliding the t-shirt on over my head, I notice it smells like fresh laundry, like it had been washed within the last day. A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts and I hear it creak open.
"You decent?" He asks through the door cracked open.
"Oh, yeah, come in," I say and sit on the bed. "Did you just wash this shirt?" I ask as I tug at the neck hole of the t-shirt on my body.
"I wash all your clothes once every two weeks... the same day I get sunflowers for the kitchen," he murmurs as he walks to his pajama drawer. He pulls out a pair of red flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He undresses and I can't help but stare at his body as he's only wearing a pair of blue boxers. He looks a lot more toned than when I left.
"Y'know you can take a picture; it might last longer," he jokes as he slides on his clothes. I snap out of my gaze and start to unmake the bed while giggling. I slip under the covers and Spencer soon follows after me, then turning out the light. Neither of us fall asleep right away, both just staring at the ceiling. The only sound in the room is our out of sync breathing.
"Spence?"
"Hm?" He hums back.
"Why did you never throw out my things? It's been two years, I would have understood."
"I don't know, I just... couldn't throw out anything that reminded me of you. When I thought I lost you, I though about taking Dilaudid again. The night of your funeral, everyone could tell I was a wreck. The whole team offered to let me stay with them or offered to stay here to make sure I was fine. But I was so... angry. I didn't want a babysitter. I guess I should have had one, though, because I got my hands on two vials of Dilaudid. I got home and put them down on the counter right next to the vase of sunflowers. The beautiful yellow caught my attention. You loved those flowers. And when I looked at them, all I could see was your smiling face. So I got rid of the Dilaudid. That's why I kept your stuff around. Even when I thought you were dead, you were still saving me."
"Spencer, I know I probably sound like a broken record, but I am so sorry for what I did. I knew that I hurt you when I left, and, believe me, I had a hole in my chest because of it. But when I thought about what Zac would do to you if he found out that I was still alive... I would have rather stayed in hiding for the rest of my life than have Zac hurt you the way I know he would have." I sigh in relief that this conversation hasn't turned into a screaming match yet.
"I know. I''m sorry I blew up on you back at Quantico. I just had so many emotions hitting me all out once. I'm surprised I didn't pass out," he laughs a bit and turns toward me. "I know that you only did what you did to protect me. I would've done the same thing had our positions be switched. I know I didn't seem like it earlier, but I can't even explain how happy I am to have you back."
"And I can't even explain how happy I am to BE back," I turn to face him and move a little closer. Our faces are inches away and the butterflies I had in my stomach when we first met, are now back.
"C-can I kiss you?" He whispers, our faces moving closer and closer.
"I thought you'd never ask." I grin and press my lips against his.
"Welcome home," he says in between kisses as we peel off our clothes.
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A/N:
I hope you liked this chapter because I enjoyed typing/writing it and I'm sorry it's long! Love you!🕷🖤🔪✨

Word Count: 3,880