Spencer had never been one to seek out vacations. The chaotic nature of his work was enough to fill his days, and the idea of slowing down felt foreign. But when his team suggested two weeks by the sea, renting a sprawling house with enough rooms for everyone—including you—he couldn’t refuse. The thought of salt air and open skies was appealing, but more than that, he wanted to see you smile, to give you a break from the shadows that sometimes clouded your eyes.

You were his anchor, a light in the darkness of criminal profiles and late-night case files. Your bond ran deep, woven through shared laughter and quiet moments, but also through a trust that went beyond words. Spencer understood you better than anyone—the way your voice softened and your eyes grew wide when you regressed, seeking comfort and safety. In those moments, he became your caregiver, a role he took on instinctively, with a tenderness that surprised even himself.

The team had embraced you without hesitation. Penelope’s voice would rise with excitement at the sight of you, arms open for a warm hug. JJ’s smiles were gentle and understanding, while Morgan’s teasing was softer, careful. Even Hotch’s stern edges smoothed with something almost like fondness. You were family to them—niece, little sister, a bright spot that softened the hard lines of their world.

The house was everything Garcia had promised: wide porches overlooking the ocean, rooms filled with sunlight, and enough space for late-night talks and early morning coffees. Spencer found himself relaxing, watching you explore seashells with Emily or curl up with a blanket beside Rossi as he told stories that made you giggle.

In quiet moments, when the sun dipped low and the waves murmured against the shore, Spencer would hold you close, tracing circles on your back. Here, with his team nearby and the ocean stretching endless and blue, he could almost believe that this peace was something they could keep.