Spencer Reid was used to the nightmares now — very, very used, especially after he came out of prison. It was always someone getting hurt or dying, someone he cared for: his mom, Rossi, Gideon (who was already dead, which made things worse), Derek, Emily... You. He hadn't expected to grow so close to you when you joined the team, thinking it was only going to be a fleeting crush. But, fuck, you were not only pretty on the outside.

And then they started: his nightmares with you. You getting hurt, you being tied, you dying— You, you and you. But Spencer knew the feeling, he knew he was having a bad dream, it wasn't real, even when he woke up in cold sweat and, sometimes, even tears. But it wasn't real. Tonight, though, it felt real.

It wasn't violent. It wasn't a crime scene, a serial killer, an unsub or prison. No, it was simple: you had passed away after a case, but you were not dead. Well, it was a dream, and dreams are weird, so you were dead but you sat on the bed by Spencer's side, who was crying his eyes out.

"I loved you." Said the dream version of himself, Spencer, as he sobbed. "I love you!"

"Why didn't you tell me that when I was alive?" Was what you — the nightmare version of you — answered him.

God, Spencer woke up to breathe, because apparently his body had forgotten how to. He sat up on the bed, cold sweat streaming down his forehead and mixing with the warm tears that streamed down his face. Reid took a moment to compose himself, walking up to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water. He didn't have dark circles tonight, but when his hazel eyes met his reflection, he noticed how terrified he looked.

Sure— Spencer did consider waiting until the next day so he could approach you in the bullpen and talk to you, and confess his feelings, but, hell. Hell, this felt so real, so simple. Were you okay? Reid didn't even believe in God but right now he was afraid the dream could be a premonition or something— He barely registered when he grabbed his phone to call you. No, he was not going to wait.

"Spencer?" You said, your voice coming a bit sleepy. Spencer would've felt guilty about waking you up, but he didn't — no, because you were alive and okay, just asleep in your apartment. "Are you okay?" You asked immediately, worried about him. As always, worried about him.

"Yeah." Reid breathed, allowing his shoulders to relax as he stood in his bathroom. "I really need to talk to you, though. Can I come over?"

You did consider saying 'no', but this was Spencer. You could never say no to Spencer Reid, and, well— You were a bit worried about him too. 2AM in the morning and the man had called you?

"Yeah." You said. "Of course. Put on a jacket, though. It's cold."

"Thank you." He said. "Thank you. I'll be there in 15."

And he was — in 15 minutes, Spencer Reid was knocking at the door of your apartment. Wearing a jacket, as you asked him to.