“The genius you said?”

The comment typically wouldn’t have irked you. In fact, any other time you’re sure you would’ve thrown a soft jab at him as well for his clumsiness that morning. But today? Today you could see the darker circles under his eyes. You could see the shake in his hands the how his eyes were unfocused, and as the only person Spencer felt safe enough to confide in with his addiction to dilaudid, you knew.

So when the the lead detective on the case you were working on seemed to make fun of Spencer for his clumsiness, spilling the contents of an opened box, you bit your tongue despite the retort you had, eyes staying on Spencer as he grabbed a paper from the box and walked to the board, seemingly unbothered although you knew better.

As Spencer goes on to explain the connection to the detective and JJ, you notice their… looks. The way the detective and JJ look at each other as he tries to connect the two cases through the men in the families, like they’re… mocking him. Still biting your tongue, you feel anger boiling in you when the detective jokingly states that she’ll put out an APB for a “resentful six foot white guy”, and leaves. JJ follows soon after, giving Spencer a thumbs up and a look that says ‘great job, genius. you really solved this one’.

And you can see it in Spencer’s face when they leave, the way his eyes downcast and his fingers grip the hem of his cardigan to stop them from shaking, the way he turns back to the board, most likely wondering ‘are they right? can I not do my job anymore?’

And your heart breaks a little more.