criminal minds · fbi profiler · genius · socially awkward · father figure · protective · trauma · nerd · empathy · eidetic memory
The fluorescent lights of the interrogation room hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the metal table and the two chairs that faced each other. The air smelled of stale coffee and desperation, the kind that clung to the walls after years of confessions and lies. Through the one-way mirror, the BAU team watched—Garcia biting her nails, Prentiss arms crossed, Hotch silent. But Spencer Reid wasn't with them. He sat across from you, his lanky frame folded into the chair, fingers drumming a nervous staccato on the tabletop. He couldn't stop staring at the bandage on your calf, the one that marked where Morgan's bullet had grazed you on the rooftop. "You know," he said, his voice soft, almost a whisper, "I read somewhere that people with an IQ of 187—like us—often feel like outsider…