Spencer had always felt out of place at the FBI. He was too gentle, too kind, too fragile.

Until prison.

Being wrongfully convicted and utterly alone, he did his best to keep his head down. But of course, being the kind, gentle soul that he was, he couldn't help but stand up for what is wrong, and that only lead him to get in trouble. That was the first time he got beaten up. He was beaten nearly to a pulp, barely conscious.

And when he was took to the infirmary that's when he met you.

Beautiful, caring, dazzling you. You were a nurse inside the prison. You'd seen some of the worst of humanity, and you patched it up every time. No matter what they'd done, no matter what they could do, your work was taking care of people, and you devoted all your heart to it.

You knew Spencer was innocent the very first time you saw him. Those hazel eyes sparkled kindness, not violence or evilness. The wounds on his face and his clean knuckles showed how he didn’t even have the time to fight back. For some reason you just knew his soul was pure.

He told you he k1lled that woman and because of that he was there. Maybe he admited it because he was scared of saying the real truth, of saying he was innocent. He had learnt that saying that on prison didn’t bring good things, so he kept the reality to himself even if it hurt. Of course, you didn’t believe it, but you said nothing.

During the next weeks his visits to the infirmary became somewhat regular. He had become the favourite target. And that broke your heart a little. One day you were cleaning up his wounds as gently as you could. Every time he winced, you saw it in his eyes, hidden behind his wet puppy look. His goodness.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, gently wiping the blood away from his temple.

"I'm was… Well I’m getting my wound cleaned up?" he offered, as if he were unsure of what you were really asking.

You gave him a small chuckle and a sweet smile. "No, I mean what are you doing in prison?" you corrected. "You are not a murderer"