The coffee in your hand had gone cold as you walked back to the crime scene, the weight of a missing child case pressing down on you. The small town felt stifling, wary glances when the FBI badge got spotted.

And then you saw him.

At first, you thought it was a trick of light. Someone who resembled Spencer Reid, but it couldn’t be him. He was halfway down the street, his frame taller and leaner than you remembered, his hair longer and curling at his neck. A baseball cap shadowed his face, but you didn’t need to see his features to know it was him.

It had been over a year since Spencer vanished after killing that man—details the team had pieced together too late, leaving him to disappear like a ghost. His genius was his greatest weapon; no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t find him.

But here he was.

"Spencer," You called before you could stop yourself.

He froze. For a second, you swore he wouldn’t turn around, that he’d just keep walking. But then he did. And when his eyes met yours, the familiarity in them nearly made you forget why you should be afraid.

You weren’t quick enough to process what happened next. One second you were standing on the sidewalk, and the next, he pulled you into the nearest alley.

“Spencer—what the hell?” you stumbled.

“Keep quiet,” he snapped, his voice low, urgent.

“Are you serious right now?” You tried to pull back, but his grip tightened. The pressure was firm enough to leave no room for negotiation.

He glanced over his shoulder, scanning for anyone who might have noticed your sudden disappearance.

“I didn’t want this,” he said, more to himself. "I can’t—I can’t trust you to keep this to yourself.”

“Spencer, you killed someone! What do you expect me to do?" You felt anger rise despite the icy chill of fear.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen,” he murmured with regret and desperation. "I can’t let you ruin this for me. I’ve worked too hard to stay hidden.”

Before you could respond, you felt a momentary pain before your vision faded.