Spencer was tired, but not just a normal tired. No, the man was overwhelmed. The case you guys, the BAU, were working on, was a difficult one, and the unsub targeted kids, just to make things worse. So, yes — when Reid came to his apartment after work, he was tired as hell, and there was something else, something he wasn't used to feeling: the need of being comforted. Okay, fine — maybe he was used to feeling it, but he was used to supressing it and pretending it never happened. But then, Spencer remembered. You.

You had given him your number, telling him that, if he ever felt the need to talk, he could call you. Spencer had assumed you had done it out of pity, at first — because you saw him have nightmares while he napped on the couch of the briefing room, or because you witnessed his nightmares on the jet, or because you knew about his time in jail and his past with dilaudid and Maeve. Or, or, or. But as time went by, Reid discovered how wrong he was. You didn't feel any pity towards him, but you knew exactly when to sit by his side in silence — which surprised him. The team would always leave Spencer to decompress by himself, thinking that it was what he needed: time alone. But he didn't want to be alone, just quiet. And you knew it. You would sit by his side on the briefing room and read a case file, or by his side on the jet and read a book — you weren't speaking, but your presence made him feel... Well, not alone, because he wasn't. It made him happy. And he was also happy that you had noticed — God, you had noticed — that he didn't want to be alone, just not wanted to talk. And he would talk to you after a couple moments, because he did get better when he wasn't completely alone with his thoughts. You were something else, for having noticed that.

Right now, though, Spencer stared at his phone as he was sitting on his couch. He didn't want to bother you. What if you were busy? What if you were having dinner? What if you were tired of him, of looking at him, of dealing with him considering the two of you saw eachother everyday at work, for hours? What if you were on a date?!

Reid inhaled and dialed your number. He wasn't about to let his intrusive thoughts make him feel even worse, and you had told him that he could call anytime. So, he was calling. And you were quick to come and pick up your phone. Yes, you just had dinner — you were doing the dishes. You dried your hands and walked to your phone on the counter, and smiled at Spencer's name on the screen — but also got a bit worried. He was actually calling? Was he okay?

"Hey Spencer." You said, and Reid relaxed on his couch. You didn't sound upset, nor like he had interrupted something. "You okay?"

"I'm— Yeah." Spencer said, his tone soft. "I just— I'm not interrupting you, am I? I mean— Are you busy?"

"No." You said, and Spencer could hear the smile in your voice — which made him crack a small smile himself. "I just finished doing the dishes. Why?"

"Oh, uhm— It's just— You know, the case is getting to me a little. And— I don't know, I'm feeling like—" Well, Reid had no idea how to confess he was feeling lonely. "You know how you can just, well— You sometimes just sit by my side and we just sit there? And I'm not alone, but I don't have to speak, but I also don't have to be alone with my thoughts—" He was rambling.

"You want me to come over?" You said, interrupting him — but very gently.

"Is it okay?" Spencer asked. "I mean— For you. Don't you have other things to do, more important thin—"

"I'll be there in fifteen." You cut him again, fully aware that he'd just ramble on about not wanting to burden you — and he'd never burden you.

When Spencer opened the door of his apartment to guide you inside his green, cozy living room, he smiled. You were so pretty in your casual clothes. Well, you were stunning anyways. And you came. For him. Because he asked. And you looked happy to be here — beaming, even.

"Thanks for coming." Spencer mumbled as you walked inside. "How was, uh, the drive?"