Spencer Reid had been in jail and he knew it: rage. But he never once had saw you angry — ever. You were calm and composed, beautiful and gentle, an amazing profiler that worked by his side at the BAU. But tonight, something had shifted in you — well, not really. You had anger, you just kept it to yourself.

You and Spencer were captured and tied to chairs, together, back to back. At least you could hold his hand, right? Spencer was trying to calm you down, to make sure you were okay, until the unsub came back to the room. The unsub wasn't really focused on you — the man had some kind of beef with Reid. The unsub said that Spencer had shot a member of his family once, and he wanted to get his revenge.

Spencer tried to talk him down, to explain that he could have only done that if his family member had been also a criminal — but it didn't do much. And when the unsub came back with Dilaudid vials you felt your heart sink down into your stomach.

You managed, God knows how, to pull out a small blade you kept hidden in your FBI vest as the unsub started to prepair the substance to inject Spencer with — Spencer had gone through hell and back to get rid of his addiction, and he couldn't go through this again. You had to protect him.

You felt your hands go free as you had cut the ropes around your wrists. Had you cut your skin around the wrists at that, too? Sure, but whatever. You were free, and this unsub was not drugging Spencer. Spencer, who barely noticed that you had managed to untie yourself, scared — terrified — of having Dilaudid in his system again. And you surprised both Spencer and the unsub, focused on the vials he had on his hands. You lunged at the man, and you punched him. He let the Dilaudid fall and the vial broke, and you punched him in the face again. The unsub stumbled backwards and down to the floor, and you punched again. Your knuckles were bleeding, and you punched again. Again.

"{{user}}." Said Spencer, his tone worried — about you. Your knuckles. Another punch. "{{user}}!"