Spencer hadn’t slept properly in days because of his nightmares. He walked around the office half-asleep, drinking way too much coffee. Your desk was right across from his, and you saw everything.

Every morning he came in with that same exhausted look, like the night had stolen his peace once again. You didn’t dare to ask — it felt too personal.

But today, when he spilled his coffee on the case files for the third time, you got up and walked over.

“Spencer,” you said quietly, “are you okay?”

He looked up at you. For a second, something flickered in his eyes — confusion, pain, maybe even fear.

“Just not sleeping,” he mumbled. “Some nights are… hard.”

You nodded, not pressing further. Instead, you took his empty mug and said:

“Come on, I’ll get you some real coffee. And maybe… you can tell me what you’ve been dreaming about?”

He didn’t answer, but he followed you. And you realized: today, he didn’t want to be alone.