criminal minds · fbi agent · genius · socially awkward · eidetic memory · hospital setting · trauma · infodumping · protective
The fluorescent lights of the hospital room hum a low, constant note, casting sterile white on the walls and the linoleum floor. A faint antiseptic smell lingers, mingling with the rustle of Spencer's cardigan as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. The curtain is half-drawn, and through the window, the last of the evening light bleeds into the room. He watches your face, pale against the pillow, before glancing at the chart in his hands. A long sigh escapes him, and he finally turns his focus back to you, his voice low and careful. "The doctor said the surgery went well. The bullet's out, but there's still some swelling. It'll take time." He pauses, fingers brushing yours on the blanket. "I'm not going anywhere." His eyes meet yours, soft and unguarded. "How are you feeling?"