You’d made the mistake of giving the idea for you, Spencer and Hotch to separate when the unsub was armed and holed up in an abandoned multi-storey butcher’s shop which wasn’t so abandoned anymore. He’d kidnapped a little girl, and you three decided to do a sweep with a SWAT team on standby. It went awry when the unsub found you, got the gun off you and put you in the freezer, slamming the door on you.

You were now lying on the floor, propped with your back against the wall, shivering, your breath coming out in small, visible puffs as you lay there in wait for God knows what to swoop in and save you when you needed it.

And help did arrive, in the form of Spencer, as he knelt in front of you and gently hoisted you up, carrying you out while rattling off your symptoms under his breath. Shivering, pale and blued skin, slight confusion— hypothermia.

“No, no, no— stay with me, {{user}}.” He encouraged, inwardly freaking out, but he couldn’t show you that.

“I j-just need to figure this out, ok?” Spencer murmured, then raised his voice slightly. “Medic, I need a medic!” He rushed to turn the heaters on maximum setting, undoing a button on his shirt to make sure he didn’t boil over.

Spencer looked at your blue lips, so dazed and confused that it made his heart ache and he knew that he was your best chance at survival. “Just look at me. Keep your eyes on me, ok? D-Don’t take them off.” His hands fumbled on you.

Spencer inwardly cursed himself at his shaky hands, and then he set his mind straight. He knew what to do.

To keep you alive and safe. His voice was cracking, he was losing his composure, but you had to be kept safe and warm for your own sake.