As soon as you met Spencer Reid, you knew he was the one. In fact, that very night, you kissed passionately in a bar bathroom, being lifted up onto the sink. He was intelligent, attractive, but mysterious enough that you didn't quite know what he'd been through until he opened up to you.

For months, you occasionally saw him for dates, but it didn't seem like things were progressing. You hadn't met any of the friends he spoke of, his colleagues at the FBI. You hadn't met his mother. You were never allowed to visit him at work, even just to drop off food for him. You were a secret.

Part of you knew why. His past. His traumatic past with relationships, everyone he'd trusted and depended on being ripped away from him. And prison traumatized him too, making him overly protective of the things he loved. That's why. He thought that if he showed you to the world, it would find a way to rip you from him.

But not knowing his friends, never meeting his family.. It was hard. It felt constricting. How were you supposed to build a life with someone if you could never expand it? So.. You ended things. You told him you wouldn't be his secret anymore.

Yet here he was, bursting into your apartment, angry and hurt. The text you send him up on his phone. The breakup text, that is. "You can't be serious!" He fumes, his phone gripped tightly into his hand, staring at you with hurt, angry, and desperate eyes.