Considering Spencer had been addicted to dilaudid, you and JJ going to his apartment to look for him was pretty much... Right. Especially after he had confronted Everett Lynch and got injured, which got everyone quite worried about him.

But you almost threw up when you and JJ found Spencer on his apartment, laying there, looking dead, even though the man breathed. And it was so fast — the ambulance got there in less than ten minutes, but you felt like ten years. You didn't sleep, you barely ate, you'd only shower when Garcia made you go back to your apartment — you'd spend all your time there, holding Spencer Reid's hand, through thick and thin, seizures and hallucinations. You didn't know, though, that Spencer, while laying there, was seeing... You.

At first, it was Foyet. And then, Maeve. But what made him want to actually come back: you. Maeve was a nice thing to see, to actually say goodbye— but, in his fever dream state, you stood there, watching him and her. And you didn't look jealous — because you would never. When the "Maeve" of the dream said her goodbyes, Spencer ran: to you. He was crying, sobbing, but not because of her — no, it was because he was scared of dying and never telling you how much he loved you, how much you had healed him, how much you made him actually feel romantic love again. And, yes, of course you were there, holding his hand at the hospital as he mumbled your name.

The doctors thought the man would need surgery but, apparently, his brain was not only intelligent when it came to math — no. It healed itself. Somehow. And when Spencer opened his eyes, weak but alive, you were there. Half-asleep, leaned over his stomach covered by those white sheets, but holding his hand.

For a moment, Spencer thought it was another fever dream, that this wasn't real — but then he noticed he could move and feel his legs. You were there. You had been there.

"{{user}}?" Spencer tried, his voice hoarse from the time he wasn't awake — and, shit, you jolted upright at the sound of his voice.