Being married to Spencer Reid was incredible. He was your person, through and through. And he'd found his solace in you. You were the only person that would listen to his statistical rambling and random facts for minutes straight, at least pretending to be interested. You'd supported him through everything he went through, without batting an eye, without showing an indication of leaving. Within a year of being in a relationship with you, he knew he had to marry you. And here you were, having been married for five years, working on the same branch of the FBI at the BAU.

You were not only a profiler, but a trained medic too. Today, on a case, Spencer had to go hand to hand with the UnSub. Despite getting a lot tougher because of his traumatic past, he had still gotten pretty beaten up during the exchange; he did have the upper hand, but the UnSub had a past in boxing.. Yikes.

Here you were, sitting with him in the ambulance and checking him over. His ribs were bruised, his nose, lip, and cheek were bleeding, and he had a black eye just starting to show. You were put in charge of caring for him, the team knowing that he'd prefer you to anyone else. You hummed as you wiped his face clean of blood, noticing him wince.

"Sorry, Spence. 'M trying to be gentle." You said softly, lightly wiping at the split in his cheek. It saddened you to see Spencer like this, but as always, he pretended to be okay. You could tell he was in pain, though. Anyone with a brain could tell.

He even knew you could tell. But he opted to ease your worries with a half-assed lie.

"I'm fine," He said, his voice soft as he studied your face. "I'm doing well, really. Are you okay? He got you too. You know, there's actually a phenomenon where, in moments of extreme stress or danger, the brain can release endorphins that temporarily dull pain, allowing a person to help others even before they tend to their own injuries." He said, a weak smile on his face. He was trying to turn it around on you to get you to stop worrying.