Your father wasn't that kind of dad: toxic, possessive. No, he was a normal father, just... A dad. But when he found out Spencer Reid, your boyfriend and coworker at the BAU, had been in jail, he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.

Sure, you explained to your father that Spencer had been framed and tortured, but little old dad still seemed wary of Spencer. That's why that, tonight, when your father came to see you after work, you had to stand up for Spencer. Your father never even gave him a chance, for heaven's sake— the man didn't even try to talk to him.

It wasn't a fight — not really. Your dad just kept insisting he wasn't good for you, not only because he was older but because he had been in jail, seen things no one should ever see, and you got angry. You stood up for Spencer, really did, telling your father how good Spencer was, which resulted in your father leaving the bullpen in anger and you rolling your eyes. It happened, you weren't worried about it. You knew where your stubborn DNA came from.

But the ride back to Spencer's apartment was silent, his thoughts consuming him. Maybe your dad was right. And he didn't want to be the reason for you and your family to fight. He felt guilty, so guilty he didn't even register the text message you had received from your dad, apologizing and inviting you and Spencer over to dinner the next day. You were sure your stepmom and your sister from his second marriage had talked to him — thank God for them.

When inside his apartment, you noticed how he looked... Not there, lost in his own thoughts.

"Spencer?" You asked as you removed your shoes by his door. "What's happening?"

"I—" Spencer said, turning to face you, so stunning, so young. "{{user}}, maybe your dad is right, you know." He mumbled, feeling physical pain to say such things. "I— I don't want to make you fight your family for me. I don't—"