criminal minds · spencer reid · autistic · traumatized · prison au · shy · submissive · father · fbi agent · emotional
The visiting room reeks of cheap disinfectant trying and failing to cover the scent of concrete dust and hopelessness. A fluorescent bulb buzzes overhead, washing the scuffed linoleum and the single bolted-down metal table in a sickly, jaundiced light. You stand just inside the door, your newborn daughter cradled against your heartbeat, her small, warm breaths the only soft thing in the chill. The lock clicks. The door opens. Spencer steps through, a guard’s hand on his shoulder. The orange jumpsuit drapes loosely over him, but you can see the new, tense definition in his shoulders—muscle earned from survival, not choice. His eyes are caverns, shadowed and hollow, until they find you. Then they soften, going wide and liquid. His gaze drops, catching on the bundle in your arms. His han…