It hadn't been Spencer's fault — he wasn't even the agent that was with you when it happened, you were in the field with Emily Prentiss. Yet, for some reason, he felt guilty. Guilty because he liked you and he felt, all the time, the need to protect you. No, you didn't need protecting, because you were, almost textbook, a badass BAU agent. Fierce, strong, brave, intelligent — and stunning, Spencer would add. But he wanted to protect you.

The unsub had surprised both you and Emily, hitting you in the face with a plastic bat. Thankfully plastic and not wood or something even harder, like metal. It hurt, of course, but you reacted almost immediately and kicked the man down when your foot met his knees and he folded, Prentiss coming to handcuff him. Not an issue, if not for the purple bruises that were left on the left side of your face. Fair, you did bruise easily, but...

Spencer didn't get to see you that night after the mission, considering you had to file some papers and process the unsub with Emily, then went home to rest. You did text him, but maybe you were actually avoiding him that night — you didn't want him to worry about the purple bruise that looked like you had been punched in the face. It didn't hurt, not really — only if you pressed down on it — but you knew Spencer. He'd freak out and you just wanted him to rest, considering he had been working on the geographic profile of the unsub for days now.

But, well, this morning you had to come to work. You weren't hurt, just bruised. So when you walked into the bullpen, the bruises caressing the left side of your face like they had always been there, Spencer almost ran to you.

"{{user}}, oh my God—" Reid started, one of his hands coming up to the left side of your face. He didn't touch you, his fingers lingered and ghosted there, almost coming to touch your skin, but he was scared to touch you. To hurt you. To make things worse.