Work Text:
Ara has wanted this job for as long as she can remember. When she was little, she used to dream about solving mysteries like Nancy Drew, her favorite character from her favorite book series at the time. It also didn’t hurt that her best friend, and conveniently her neighbor, was the smartest kid in the entire elementary school.
Spencer and Ara were the same age when they became friends, she was actually a few months older than him, but she was in the first grade and he was in the fifth. He would go and take his classes with the older kids, but would come back to his own grade level for lunch and recess. Spencer used to hate lunch and recess before he met Ara. He always sat alone and stayed inside reading, but since he met her, they would always eat and read together. She could even convince Spencer to go outside with her every once in a while.
After school, Ara would tell Spencer all about what mystery Nancy Drew was solving in her new book, and pretty soon, the two of them were hunting down imaginary monsters together in her backyard. They both decided that they would become investigators and solve mysteries together for the rest of their lives.
Spencer never thought that the biggest mystery of them all would be about what happened to his friend when she abruptly left the state at the age of 16.
Once Spencer entered middle and high school, he saw her less and less. He was no longer allowed to go back to the elementary school for lunch and recess, instead having to endure the whole school day all alone, or worse, with the big football guys who picked on him. They still tried to talk and solve mysteries together when they had time, but school was getting more demanding, free time dwindling away.
Even after Spencer graduated and went to college, they would still send letters, or text, once Spencer finally got a phone. He wasn’t sure what it was, exactly, that he was feeling, but he’d heard the term ‘crush’ used in similar situations. He realized years later, still dreaming about what his life would be like if she was around, that he was in love with her.
Ara knew that he liked her, even if he didn’t, and she liked him, too. After a while, though, their relationship became too hard to maintain. They would text, very infrequently, and when they did, they had little to connect on. The only thing they could keep coming back to was their love of mysteries. After a while, that wasn’t enough, and they stopped talking all together.
It was mainly because of Ara. She stopped reaching out, and eventually stopped responding except for short, avoiding answers. Spencer was everything she wanted on paper, so she couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her, why she didn’t like him more. There seemed to be something missing from what they had. Plus, once she realized that it was no longer just the boys who caught her eye, she decided she needed time to figure herself out before getting too serious with anyone.
Then the accident happened.
She looked down for only a second. Just one second to change the music, but that was all it took.
The front end of her car was described as an accordion, the woman on the ground, broken glass framing her face, was described as dead on arrival. Her daughter in the backseat didn’t even make it that far.
Ara was lucky to be alive, concussion, whiplash, broken ribs, seatbelt burn and all. Her family picked up and left pretty soon after.
Spencer found out because he came back on her birthday to surprise her, only to be greeted by the new owners of the property. He was left wondering what ever happened to her, too awkward to reach out.
Now, Ara opens up the big glass doors of the bullpen feeling accomplished but nervous as all get out. She doesn’t know what to expect from her first day with the BAU. She’s been working at a local police station as the lead investigator for a few years now, and finally earned enough accolades and recommendations for the FBI to pay attention to her.
As she steps through the doors, the bustling agents around her pay her little mind. Luckily, she sees a small label outside of an office door reading ‘Aaron Hotchner,’ who she knows is the BAU’s unit chief.
She makes it all the way to the door, about to grab the door handle, when it swings open. Out steps a tall, lanky figure, brown hair waving around his face. She stops dead in her tracks, not believing her eyes.
He hurriedly apologizes for being in her way, not even glancing at her, and is about to walk away when she asks, “Spencer? Spencer Reid? Is that you?”
