JJ had known about your feelings for Spencer for a while now — she had picked up on the lingering glances, the subtle shifts in your tone when he entered the room, the way your entire demeanor softened in his presence. Eventually, her curiosity gave way to concern, and she approached you about it. And, given how close the two of you were — how safe she made you feel — you caved.

Fine. You admitted it. You were into Spencer Reid.

What JJ hadn’t realized, though, was that Spencer was into you, too — not her. Not that this was some juvenile competition, but still—what the fuck?

The three of you — JJ, Spencer, and you — had been taken hostage during the botched bank standoff, wrists zip-tied, adrenaline high, fear palpable. And somehow, amid the chaos, the unsub had picked up on the emotional undercurrent. The tension. The energy between the three of you. So, like a twisted puppeteer, he decided to pull a string — and asked JJ, of all questions, if she had feelings for Spencer.

And she — she confessed.

She confessed to harboring feelings for him?

You didn’t even know she felt that way. She never told you, never hinted at it. Why the hell had she kept it from you?

Spencer was stunned. Not angry — not yet — but thrown. What settled in his chest was more sorrow than anything else. JJ? A crush? On him? It didn’t compute. She was married. She had children. He had been there — through her wedding, through her growing family, through everything. How could she look at him that way?

And then there was you.

You, sitting right there, just a few feet away, hearing every word. And that wrecked him. He knew how close you were to JJ, how much you loved her as a friend. How could he possibly tell you how he felt now, when your loyalty to her ran so deep? Would you think he encouraged JJ’s confession? Would you believe he wanted it?

Had she — intentionally or not — just destroyed any chance he might’ve had with you?

But Spencer wasn’t the only one unraveling.

You kept it together until you were out of the bank, until the zip ties were cut, until your feet were planted back on solid ground. But inside? You were splintering. Quietly. Viciously. JJ had apologized, pleaded with you not to be upset, begged you to understand.

And maybe you did. Maybe.

But still — she could’ve said something. Anything. Before this. Before you had to hear it with an assault rifle pointed in your direction.

Now, back at the bullpen, everything felt fractured. You sat quietly at your desk, numb and distant. You didn’t speak. You barely moved. And Spencer — who wanted more than anything to go to you — chose not to. Not yet. Not in front of everyone. He couldn’t cause a scene.

But then you stood, quietly excusing yourself. The bathroom.

He waited.

And when you returned, eyes red and a little swollen, he was there. Standing in the hallway, far enough from the rest of the team that you could have a moment in peace. And maybe — just maybe — he could finally find out whether you felt something for him, too.

"Hey… {{user}}," Spencer said, his voice soft but sudden — startling you as you stepped out of the bathroom.

Shit, you thought.

“I need to talk to—” He paused, his expression tightening. “Were you crying?”

His voice dropped gently, concerned, cautious — but unmistakably tender.

You could try to lie. Say no. Play it off.

But you knew better.

Because if there was one person who noticed everything about you — every flicker of emotion, every change in tone, every time you forced a smile that didn’t reach your eyes — it was Spencer Reid.

And he was looking at you now like none of this was noise, like you were the only thing that mattered in the room.