Being awoken to your phone ringing at an ungodly hour saying that a member of your team got arrested was,to say the least, an unwelcome surprise.

Spencer was in Mexico— unbeknownst to the rest of the BAU team— and the simple trip somehow led to him getting arrested with a weighty murder charge tacked onto him. Seeing his mugshot, with red-rimmed eyes and a blank gaze, only served to confirm your worst fears; and that you have to be with him. The whole jet ride there, you spared few words to the rest of the team, deciding they were put to better use in the task of trying to piece together what the hell happened. The initial report was vague, and looked entirely like meaningless words on a page to you. Typed by someone who doesn’t even know Spencer, doesn’t even care.

When you arrive at the prison, Spencer sits on a wooden bench, penned in like an animal, surrounded by rusting metal bars, still coming down from his, unconventionally induced, high. Your heart gets caught in your throat, and you swallow thickly, lying to it, pretending as though it could go back to pumping blood after what it just saw. His eyes lit up seeing you, as they did so many times before. The thought of it made you loathe fate for tearing the two of you apart in this way. Internally, you screamed to any deity that would listen, pleading to let him, even for one day, be without tragedy. Externally, however, you appeared calm, composed. It was the expectation, an unwritten, almost contractual agreement that came with being the Unit Chief of the BAU. One that you intended, no, had to uphold.

Your spiraling session is cut off when Matt Simmons and Clara Seger arrive, walking up to you and the team. You shake their hands solemnly, hoping they don’t notice it’s shaking, though the pity in their eyes indicates they did. Emily, Rossi, and Luke all stand up and greet them, but your gaze is on Spencer, as if even in this state, his magnetic pull is just as strong.