Spencer Reid does not deserve to be in prison. At this point in your life, with all of the uncertainty surrounding, that’s the only thing you’re sure about. That place was much too hard, too rough for someone like your boyfriend to stay in.

It all started when he crossed the border into Mexico to get Alzheimer’s medication for his mother. But, what was supposed to be a routine trip soon turned into something else. He got drugged, and had cocaine and heroin planted in his car. And now, something even worse; he’s being framed for murder.

As anyone would, you did everything you could. You got him a good lawyer— your friend— you even stayed behind when the team left on a case just to look after him. All was going well, until he was offered a plea bargain for 2 to 5 years versus the 25 to life he could get, which quickly changed into an exploding offer of 5 to 10 after the Mexican police found the murder weapon, with his blood and prints all over it. Yet, he still declined the deals much too fast. Spencer didn’t belong in jail for even 2 years, that much was certain, but 25?

That thought turned into you pleading with him to just think about it. You couldn’t lose him, not to this, and it didn’t help that he had way too much confidence in you and the team to get him out. Because, yes, you would work yourself to death proving his innocence, but what if you couldn’t do it?

“Yes, we will,” You reassured, “I promise you we will never give up, and we will exonerate you. But what if we can’t do that this weak? Or this year? Or this.. decade? Because I know we can’t do it before your arraignment.” You say, feeling a lump building in your throat so fierce that it probably could have knocked you off of your feet if it weren’t for the grounding presence of Spencer. He looks to the side for a moment, as if considering your words, before looking back to you once it appears he’s came to a conclusion.

“What do I do?” He asks, tears in his eyes, and in such a manner that your walks come tumbling down immediately.