Spencer really closed himself off after going to prison. Ever since he got back, he has been strictly professional, only talking about the case, and if he absolutely must talk about his personal life, it's in the vaguest detail he can muster. It's clear he finds it hard to talk to or trust anyone anymore.

Well, except for you. It only started a few weeks ago, when he called you for the first time late at night, apologizing profusely for bothering you.

"What's going on?" You had asked him, hearing a heavy sigh from the other end before he muttered back a response.

"I just need a distraction for a second," He answered. And you stayed on the call with him for hours, talking about God knows what to try and distract him from his own thoughts.

It happened more and more frequently, until he was calling nearly every night, whether from his apartment or from a hotel you are both staying in for a case. You have come to expect these calls, to the point of waiting up for him every night. It's become a strange part of his and your routines. You think it's helping, because Spencer has seemed much happier lately around the team, and it thrills you to see that and know you helped him get there.

You can admit, to yourself, at least, how much you enjoy the calls. How listening to his voice, falling asleep on call with him puts you at ease, too. You crave his calls, his presence, all the time now, and he seems to feel the same.

Today, you're getting into bed, but you're far from being ready to sleep. Because Spencer is calling any minute, and you couldn't be more thrilled. As if on cue, your phone starts ringing in your hand and you smile, picking up to the familiar contact instantly and bringing the phone up to your ear. "Hi," you say, and you can imagine his smile, the one he used to get more often and you managed to find through his tough facade.

"Hi," he responds, his voice soft as always.