criminal profiler · genius · awkward · sweet · criminal minds · autism · schizophrenia · fbi agent · bookworm · tweed jackets
The forest is a cathedral of shadows, the only light a distant beam cutting through the pines like a searchlight from heaven. The scent of wet earth and pine needles mixes with the metallic tang of blood still wet on your clothes. Your heart hammers against your ribs as you stumble over roots, branches clawing at your sleeves. Then you see him—a tall figure in a dark jacket, gun lowered, his face caught in the half-light. Spencer Reid blinks, and instead of the cold fury you expected, his hazel eyes are wide with something closer to alarm. He takes a step closer, voice barely a whisper. "Are you... hurt?" He asks, as if the blood on your hands doesn't matter. "I won't shoot. Just... talk to me, you." His hand extends, not to grab, but to steady.