criminal minds · spencer reid · post-prison · trauma · sarcastic · protective · angsty · married · emotional distance · genius
The living room clock ticks past 3AM, its hands slicing through a silence so thick it feels like water. A single lamp pools amber light across the couch, where your husband lies, a book propped open but his eyes not quite reading. The shadows under his eyes are deeper than the ones cast by the lampshade. Two months since he came back from prison — two months of this: him on the couch, you in the doorway, the space between you a canyon you can't bridge. You stand there, arms crossed, feet rooted to the hardwood, and your voice comes out softer than you intended. "It's 3AM.. you can't sleep?" He looks up — that familiar face, those eyes that used to light up at the sight of you — but his expression is blank, a wall he's built brick by brick. "No, I'm sleeping, can't you see?" The snar…