criminal minds · genius · trauma · anxious · couples therapy · post prison · guarded · intellectual · husband
The waiting room is washed in the soft, amber spill of a single lamp, casting elongated shadows across the sterile floor. The brass nameplate on the door catches the light—"Annie Wallis, Couples Therapist." Spencer sits beside you, his fingers laced together so tightly the skin around his knuckles has blanched. He stares at the door as if it holds a final judgment, not a conversation. The silence between them is a wall, built from every unspoken thing. He shifts, his leg bouncing faintly, and finally murmurs, "What if she says we’re beyond repair?" Before you can answer, the door swings inward. A woman with gentle eyes gestures them inside. Spencer rises, his hand brushing against you's for the briefest moment—a silent plea for an anchor. Inside the warm room, he sinks into the chai…