Archive of Our Own

But not everything turned awful for Spencer at that time. That’s because he had (Y/N). She was his classmate since preparatory and, like him, she also skipped grades. That’s why she was in her last year of high school, months before she turned fourteen.

They become good friends, leaning on each other and having to navigate the turbulent waters of growing up faster, surrounded by bullying, and with the constant feeling of being out of place.

The pair talked a lot and shared a beautiful friendship. Although (Y/N) was a bit older than him, she saw Spencer as an equal, and the matureness in the prodigious young boy wasn’t much different from the other guys in their school grade.

(Y/N) and Spencer liked to spend time in a park nearby after classes, especially when Spencer didn’t want to come back home early, knowing his mom was having a bad day and wouldn’t notice him either.

That day was one of those: two months before the end of the school year and their high-school life.

“Do you already know what you gonna do next year?” (Y/N) asked Spencer as she swayed in the swing and pointed the pamphlets in Spencer’s hands.

“Not really. But they offered me some options,” Spencer shrugged, sitting in a stack of bricks next to the swings and stretching his long legs. He returned the pamphlets to his backpack.

“Here in Vegas?” (Y/N) questioned, still swaying and hitting some rocks with her feet every time they reached the ground.

“No. I haven’t decided yet, but California and Connecticut seem good options,” the young boy said. (Y/N) stopped swinging and narrowed her eyes.

“Caltech or Yale? Not bad, Reid. But I would have bet for you getting into Harvard,” (Y/N) pointed. Spencer chuckled.

“Maybe if I would like to do something in Molecular and Cellular Biology, but I like Astrophysics or Applied Mathematics better.”

(Y/N) hummed in approval.

“What about you? Did you decide on Stanford yet?” Spencer asked. (Y/N) pursed her lips in thoughts.

“I’m not sure. To be honest, I was thinking of MIT. Computer Science and Engineering could be a good option there,” (Y/N) mused.

Spencer curled his lips upright, forming a shy smile.

“Sure, you love all related to computer science and those machines. I don’t know why really,” Spencer muttered. (Y/N) laughed.

“Hey! Those ‘machines’ will be the future, Spencer Reid! Don’t fight the future!” (Y/N) chirped.

Spencer laughed and shook his head. He always liked the passion that (Y/N) showed when she talked about something that she loved. It was contagious. But now, that made him feel his chest tightened with a strange sentiment.

He would miss this. He would miss her.

It was evident both would part ways. It was the logical thing to do. But (Y/N) became someone so important to him in those years.

Spencer knew that finishing high school meant a lot of changes, though. He would have to leave his mom too. What would happen to her? Could he be in peace not being there to take care of her?

“What’s wrong?” (Y/N) asked when she saw how quickly his laugh morphed into a stern and pensive expression on his face. Spencer pouted. (Y/N) couldn’t help but increase her worry. He looked so vulnerable doing that.

“Nothing. It’s just that – that aren’t we too young to discuss our future out of here? I mean, it’s supposed we have to leave, but now?” Spencer downcasted his gaze fixing his eyes on his shoes. (Y/N) sighed.

“Are you worried about your mom?”

“Yeah. I am. But it isn’t only that. Not that I’m going to miss our schoolmates or something like that. Honestly, I guess they are the main reason to look forward to a new life,” the young boy acknowledged.

(Y/N) frowned.

“What? It isn’t your primary motive to get out of here to show the world what that big brain of yours could do?” (Y/N) stated, making Spencer smile.

“You have too much faith in me,” Spencer mumbled.

“Only the amount of faith you deserve. I would blindly bet on you, and I’m sure I wouldn’t lose a penny,” (Y/N) remarked, trying to sound serious.

That made Spencer crack a laugh.

“What?!”

“I’m sorry (Y/N), but the fact you were born and raised in Vegas doesn’t guarantee you are a good person making bets. I have evidence of that.”

A smug smile crept on Spencer’s face.

“Fuck you, Reid. I’m trying to compliment you, and you brought this!” (Y/N) replied, trying to sound hurt but laughing at the end.

He wasn’t wrong. Every time they made any bet, Reid won every single time.

“And you? Do you want to get out of here?” Spencer asked. (Y/N) contemplated her possible answer for a couple of seconds.

“Yeah. I want it so bad.”

There was complete sincerity in her words. So much that made Spencer cringe at her confession. But he couldn’t judge her.

(Y/N)’s home was a full house with both parents and three younger siblings. She didn’t feel comfortable there. (Y/N) always complained about being the older sister in a traditional American family. There wasn’t too much space to develop an interest that wasn’t being a good daughter and eventually marrying a nice man.

But those weren’t her plans. She wanted to be an independent woman and do a lot of things. To build a family wasn’t in the picture.

Why waste her big brain being stuck as a housewife and raising kids, right?

“I understand.” It was everything that Spencer could say. You could see the sadness in those hazel eyes. (Y/N) noticed.

“It doesn’t mean we have to lose contact, you know? In fact, you are the only one with who I would like to keep in touch. Although I know you would be very busy doing more important things to lose time talking with me.” She teased. Spencer chuckled.

(Y/N) didn’t know that, but Spencer would always prefer to talk to her than anything else.

He would always choose to focus on her, to look after her. Even if, in his eyes, she wasn’t a girl that needed to be cared for.

Spencer checked his watch after a minute of silence, and disappointment covered his features.

“I think I have to go. It’s time for my mom’s medicine and dinner,” he reminded.

(Y/N) nodded.

“Yeah, me too. I guess dinner would be on me too since mom decided to visit aunt Clara in San Diego, and my dad can’t cook an egg.”

Spencer gave her an apologetic look before both said goodbye.

When they walked opposite ways, (Y/N) turned and called for Spencer.

“What?” The boy asked.

“Will you go on the farewell trip?”

Spencer narrowed his eyes.

“I don’t know, but I’m not feeling like going, really,” he answered. “Will you?”

“Only if you do. And I’m not trying to pressure you,” (Y/N) giggled, knowing she was doing precisely that.

“Sure you don’t,” Spencer huffed. “Are you really interested in spending time with our classmates on a three-day trip?”

“Not very amused for that matter specifically, but going to the Bryce Canyon is doing the trick for me. I think it is worth the trouble. And we can have fun. I mean, we can read, play cards and talk a lot. Even we can stargaze at night!” (Y/N) pointed. Spencer hummed, thinking about the options.

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay. I hope you’re not telling me that only to keep my mouth shut. I’ll bug you about this for the next three weeks anyway,” she warned. Spencer chuckled.

“I don’t have any doubts about that.”

It was safe to say that even if the idea didn’t amuse Spencer, spending time with (Y/N) was enough reason to give in.

He couldn’t say no to her.

So after a week of (Y/N) asking repeatedly, Spencer decided it was time to give her his answer.

“Yes. I’ll go. Aunt Ethel will stay with mom.” She threw her arms around Reid’s neck in pure excitement without warning.

“Awesome! We’ll have a great time, you’ll see.” She assured. Reid smiled and felt happy to see his friend so excited about the idea of him coming on the trip.

Even if Spencer was right about how jerks their classmates could be, (Y/N) ignored the weird looks they gave them on the bus. She sat at Spencer’s side, and the pair talked the three hours long until reaching their destination.

Spencer wasn’t an outdoor boy, but he managed to place his tent using his big brain and (Y/N)’s help.

(Y/N) didn’t have trouble with that; she did camp with her grandparents when they were still alive and she was a child. Those were the best memories she kept of them.

In the afternoon, and after ‘sharing’ a group meal - the professor’s idea - Spencer and (Y/N) sat outside their tents. Both with a book in hand.

“Which one you brought?” (Y/N) asked.

“War and Peace,” Spencer pointed, handing her the copy.

“Wow, it’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. In fact, it’s my mom’s copy. It has annotations in the margins,” Spencer said, showing the book’s pages.

“Great!” (Y/N) chirped.

“And what did you bring?” Spencer asked this time.

“Two, because you read faster than me. ‘Crime and Punishment’ and ‘The Illustrated Man,’ the last one is my favorite, though,” (Y/N) replied, handing the books to Spencer.

“Bradbury? I haven’t read anything of him yet.”

“That’s why I chose it. I know it wouldn’t be your first choice, but give it a try. My favorite story is ‘No Particular Night or Morning,’ it reminds me of you and me, you know?”

“Yeah? Why?” A curious Spencer asked.

“You have to read it first,” (Y/N) giggled, knowing that would set a challenge for Spencer.

They did that a lot. Share books to read and talk about them later.

“Okay, let’s do this then,” Spencer claimed.

That meant (Y/N) and Spencer secluding in their tents, reading the book that the other chose.

That night Spencer started with Dostoyevski; knowing that Bradbury was (Y/N)’s favorite, he decided to read it later to pay extra attention.

Spencer was about to start reading the second book when (Y/N) peeked in his tent.

“What is it?” The young boy asked. (Y/N) seemed excited about something.

“It’s night, and the sky is clear! Can we go to stargaze?”

“But I didn’t finish the books yet,” Spence complained.

“Me neither. But we can bring the books with us and read under the stars! With flashlights, of course,” (Y/N) offered.

Spencer shook his head, a smile plastered on his face. He never ceased to be amazed by (Y/N)’s enthusiasm. Again, he can’t say no to her.

(Y/N) and Spencer walked between the campfire, searching for the best place to look at the sky. In their walk, they saw some of their classmates. Some of them were drinking and laughing, others making out in the darkest spots.

(Y/N) and Spencer kept walking until reaching a little hill rounded by some trees and bushes. It was perfect. The light of the campfire couldn’t interfere with the stars shining above.

They lay in silence, contemplating the marvelous scenario.

“This is perfect,” (Y/N) mumbled.

“It is,” Spencer agreed, turning his head to look at (Y/N). She looked perfect for him. Spencer couldn’t help but stare at her. His friend. The most important person he had right now. Maybe his first love, even if he wasn’t sure what love feels like. But the butterflies in his stomach should mean something, right?

(Y/N) turned her head and caught Spencer staring.

“What?”

“Uh - nothing,” he stammered.

“C’mon. What is in your mind? I know there is something,” she pushed.

Spencer bit his bottom lip and frowned. Was it a good idea? She was his friend; he trusted her.

“As we were walking here, some of our classmates were kissing, and I couldn’t help but wonder what that would feel like. I mean, it’s like in the books. Under the stars, a romantic setting? I don’t know,” Spencer trailed off. A blush covered his features.

“You haven’t kissed anyone yet?” (Y/N) asked with genuine curiosity.

“No. You should know it, right? I always tell you everything.” Spencer confessed, now feeling embarrassed.

(Y/N) noticed and didn’t want to make his friend uncomfortable.

“But it’s okay if you haven’t. There is nothing wrong with that. Also, you are young, Spencer.

And if you want to know, I haven’t too,” she said, shrugging but averting her gaze from him.

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“No? I thought that you and Ryan...” he trailed off. (Y/N) narrowed her eyes.

“What? Ryan? No! I mean, he’s attractive, but I don’t feel like having my first kiss with him.”

“Why not?” Spencer asked.

“He’s a jerk,” (Y/N) stated.

“Can you name one of our classmates who is not a jerk?” Spencer teased.

(Y/N) chuckled; she knew Spencer was right.

“Fair enough,” she replied, giggling.

Then a silence wrapped them. Spencer didn’t know what to say. Or maybe he did know but didn’t dare. Both opted to turn their heads and focus on the stars again.

An idea popped in (Y/N)’s head; it was tempting, but she didn’t want to scare Spencer. She trusted him, though. He would tell her if it was a bad idea, right? She hoped so.

“Spencer?” (Y/N) murmured, turning to see him.

“Uhm?”

“Would you... kiss me?” (Y/N) blurted.

Spencer’s head snapped immediately.

“What?! Me? Wh-why?” He stammered, sitting and crisscrossing his long legs. (Y/N) did the same, sitting as well.

“Uh - well. You haven’t kissed anyone, neither do I. So why not?” She shrugged.

“I - I don’t know. Here? Are you sure?”

Spencer could feel his entire body in flames. He was about to freak out.

“We’re alone, Spencer. If that is what you are worried about. But it’s okay if you don’t want to do it, really. You know I’ll never ask you something that could make you uncomfortable,” (Y/N) reassured him.

Maybe it was a bad idea, she thought.

“No. No, that’s not the problem. It’s not a problem at all. I mean, we can do it, for... science?” Spencer kept stuttering, but he felt that he could do it. (Y/N) giggled.

“Yeah, science. It’s a good way to see it.”

“But are you sure you want me to be your first kiss? I don’t want to be bad for you...”

“Hey! Who said you’ll be bad? In all honesty, I can be bad too,” she claimed.

“I doubt you could be bad at anything.”

“Wanna bet?”

They both chuckled. It was a nervous chuckle, though.

“O-Okay. Why not?” That was the remained courage in Spencer’s talking.

“Cool,” (Y/N) chirped. “Okay, I guess we have to lean in, right?” She said, closing the gap between them.

Spencer jumped back.

“What? Right-right now?!”

(Y/N) frowned.

“Do you want to wait until the fourth extinction?” she teased.

“Yeah. You’re right. Now. It’s okay. Cool. Everything it’s okay,” Spencer mumbled, trying to encourage himself.

Slowly he leaned in. (Y/N) did the same. Before they closed their eyes, (Y/N) took Spencer’s hand to rest it on her cheek, her hand over his.

They could feel their breath fanning on each other lips. Spencer could have died then and there.

He was about to kiss his friend and crush.

(Y/N)’s lips brushed his. It was a light touch. A little peck, but for Spencer, it was everything.

When they parted, both were flushed and giggled nervously.

“Too bad?” He asked.

“No! Good, indeed. Do you want to do it again?” (Y/N) offered.

“Please!” Spencer piped. Faster than he would like to.

This time (Y/N) cupped Spencer’s cheeks and planted a firm kiss on his lips. Spencer didn’t hesitate in reciprocating the kiss. His heart pumping was about to jump out of his body.

This one was longer, and they both could feel the tingle in their stomachs.

But the moment was interrupted abruptly with a fit of laughs and flashlights pointing to Spencer’s and (Y/N)’s eyes, making them part quickly, not knowing what was going on.

“Look! Nerd number two is kissing nerd number one. Gross!” A voice shouted, followed by laughs from the others classmates standing there.

The flashlights pointed directly to (Y/N) and Spencer, not letting them see each other. But sure, they both felt embarrassed enough. It was a private moment. It was supposed that nobody could be walking there.

Spencer couldn’t say anything. But (Y/N) was having nothing of it.

“What the fuck, Tyler. Leave us alone!” She shouted.

“Ohhhhh. Are you mad (Y/N)? Don’t tell me you like the nerd-kid? I thought you had a crush on Ryan. Now you like children?” He mocked. The group laughed as well.

“Don’t be ridiculous. We are friends,” (Y/N) defended.

Spencer couldn’t even look at her or them. Embarrassment made him silent, and the only thing he wanted was to run away.

“The kind of friends who kiss each other? The same you did with Ryan and Steve last week?” Tyler mocked.

“What?! No!” (Y/N) defended. Spencer looked at her in shock.

“I’m not your first kiss?” Spencer murmured, standing and backing from her and the group around them.

“They are lying, Spencer!” (Y/N) stood, grabbing the book she had by her side. Spencer’s book.

“Ohhh, poor child. You lied to him, saying it was your first? Bad girl, (Y/N),” another boy - Randall - teased.

“And sure, they would tell that they were doing nerd stuff like reading books,” another girl - Valerie - chimed, yanking the book from (Y/N)’s hands.

“Hey! Give me that! It’s not yours!” (Y/N) demanded.

“What? This?” Valerie asked, in a mocking voice, throwing the book against a big rock. The book cracked open and fell into a mud puddle.

Spencer watched in horror how her mom’s book lay destroyed on the ground and covered in mud.

“What the fuck you did?!” (Y/N) yelled at Valerie as the rest of the group kept laughing.

“Don’t be dramatic, (Y/N). You sure have a mountain of those at home,” she dismissed.

“C’mon, guys. Let’s give the love birds some privacy,” Tyler said, still laughing. The group walked in the campfire direction, leaving (Y/N) and Spencer still shocked.

(Y/N) was the first one who reacted, kneeling to pick Spencer’s book. Or better said, what remained from the book.

Knowing the item’s importance for Spencer and feeling powerless about the whole situation, (Y/N) was openly sobbing.

She tried to approach her friend, but with every step forward, Spencer stepped one back.

“Spencer, I’m so sorry. This shouldn’t have happened. Your book is ruined, oh my God. I’m so sorry,” she tried to apologize, taking the book and inspecting it with her flashlight.

Spencer wanted to scream. Not because of the book precisely. Well, because of the book too.

But for him, the whole situation suffocated him.

And he needed to explode.

“Leave it!” He shouted, yanking the book from (Y/N)’s hands. She froze, seeing Spencer so defensive and angry. Not that she didn’t understand, but she was trying to help.

“Spencer, I didn’t k-”

Reid cut her off.

“You didn’t know this could happen? Of course, you do! You wanted to embarrass me. You wanted them to do what they did! You’re like them!”

(Y/N)’s eyes filled with tears. Why was Spencer being so unfair to her?

“No! That’s not what I wanted…” She tried to explain, but Reid wasn’t having any of that.

“You insisted on coming here. What did you expect? I thought you were intelligent!” Spencer spat.

“I’ll buy you another copy. I promise. I know it will not be the same, but...”

“Don’t bother. You’re right. It won’t be the same, and I don’t want it. As I don’t want to see you again,” Spencer shouted, clutching the ruined book to his chest and running to the tent’s zone. He couldn’t see (Y/N) to the eyes. He wanted to dig a hole and disappear.

Defeated, (Y/N) returned to her tent as well.

A deathful silence covered the night, but you should have heard Spencer’s and (Y/N) muffled sobs if you had paid enough attention.

She tried to talk to him with no avail. Spencer disappeared the following morning and didn’t show up at school anymore. Some days (Y/N) went to Spencer’s house. But nobody came out the door. Why was he hiding from her? (Y/N) knew that she fucked it up and hurt Spencer’s feelings. But she wanted to make amends. She used some of her savings and bought an exact copy of the book she ruined. It wasn’t the same, but she needed to apologize somehow, even if the whole blame landed on their assholes classmates.

(Y/N) has her hopes of seeing Spencer on their graduation day. He would come. ‘He has to,’ she thought. But the deception was bigger than she expected. When the name ‘Spencer Walter Reid’ was heard from the speakers, no one showed up. Not Spencer, not his mom. He didn’t make it to his own school graduation day. However, he won all the prizes that the school gave that year. It wasn’t a surprise, though.

In her last attempt to see Spencer, (Y/N) headed to his house three days after graduation. This time someone heard her knocking and showed up at the front door. It was Diana Reid.

“Yes?” Diana replied, looking at the young girl in front of her. She didn’t recognize (Y/N), but she felt something familiar in her.

“I’m sorry ma’am for bothering you, but I’m looking for Spencer. Is he at home?” (Y/N) asked, clutching the book she has for him with all force. Something in her guts was telling her that something was off.

“Oh, honey. Spencer left early this morning.” Diana answered.

“I see. And at what time he will come back?”

“I’m afraid he won’t in a long time. He left, heading to California to start college.” Diana clarified.

(Y/N)’s heart dropped to her stomach. He left. He didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t let her apologize. Without knowing, tears began to blurry (Y/N)’s eyes.

“He left…” she repeated. Diana frowned, feeling the distress in the young girl.

“Are you okay, honey? Why do you need to talk to my son?”

“Oh. Nothing. It’s just I had a gift to give him before he would leave. And, and I - I couldn’t give it to him. That’s all.”

“Well. Maybe you could do it when Spencer comes to visit. If you want, I can tell him.”

“No! No ma’am. It won’t be necessary. I’ll leave for Massachusetts next week.”

“Oh, were you both classmates?”

“Yeah. Classmates,” (Y/N) affirmed.

“If you want, I can tell him when he calls...”

“No, ma’am. Don’t worry. I have to go now. I’m sorry for bothering you,” (Y/N) hurriedly said before leaving Spencer’s house.

Diana was about to say something, but before the words came, (Y/N) ran to the opposite side of the street.

‘He left. He left. I couldn’t say goodbye,’ was what (Y/N) repeated the whole time she ran to her house. Why did she feel so hopeless? Why couldn’t she stop the tears from running down her face?

She lost her friend. The boy with whom she shared her first kiss. Was it a mistake? (Y/N) thought about it and her conclusion was the same: she wouldn’t like to do it with anybody else. It was special. She trusted him, and he made her comfortable. There was something else? She wasn’t sure, but Spencer was the best guy she knew in her fourteen years. Her feelings were a mix of signals she couldn’t decipher yet, but the ache in her heart told her that this was wrong. Things wouldn’t have ended the way they did.

But there was nothing else to do. (Y/N) would have to learn to live with that scar—another one.

The day before leaving Vegas for college, she did the last thing she thought was fair to compensate - in some way - for what happened with Spencer.

When Diana Reid opened the door that afternoon, she saw a girl with sad eyes, holding a package in her hands.

“Good afternoon, Miss Reid,” (Y/N) greeted.

“Hello, dear. You were here the past week, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for leaving in a hurry,” (Y/N) apologized.

“Don’t be. You looked distressed, though. Everything is okay?”

“Yes. It does. But I’m here to ask you a favor if it isn’t too bold of me?” (Y/N) hesitated for a second.

“Of course, honey. Just name it,” Diana replied.

No wonder where Spencer got that kindness.

“Can you give this to Spencer when he visits? I would really appreciate it.” (Y/N) handed the package to Diana, who didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Of course. Did you sign it? Because I’ll forget your name, I’m sorry,” Diana apologized.

“Don’t worry, ma’am. Spencer’s name is in the front, and he would know it‘s from me when he sees it. Thank you so much, and I apologize for taking your time.”

“Don’t be silly. Not a problem at all. Good luck, honey. I’m assuming you’re leaving Vegas,” Diana asserted.

“Yes. You’re right. Thank you very much. Goodbye, Miss Reid.”

-------

EIGHTEEN YEARS LATER

-------

“It’s a possibility. The unsub may think of the victims as a surrogate for the primary source of his anger.”

Spencer explained, sipping the remaining coffee in his cup.

“Why a ‘him’? It could be a woman,” Emily pondered.

“Women tend to kill not using physical contact,” Reid explained.

“Unless this could be a very personal issue,” Morgan added.

“That would change the victimology,” JJ intervened.

The team was working on a case in Boston. Five women were killed in the past two weeks.

Details were odd enough to keep the team in the dark. Although the aggressiveness in the killings, there weren’t traces on the victims to identify the killer. There wasn’t any helpful lead.

It seemed like the killings were made with much aggressiveness, more than an average human could have. The intervention of animals was ruled out, given the precision of the cuts and stabs.

“Machines?” Prentiss mused. Rossi looked at her incredulous.

“C’mon, Emily,” Morgan pointed. Spencer’s face lit up.

“It’s not a bad hypothesis. There is a lot of development in robotics. You can train a machine to do things, and you don’t even need to be in the same country,” Spencer explained.

“A killing machine? If that is true, our guy needs a lot of knowledge to do so. I mean, the machine looks as sophisticated as Arnold,” Derek chirped.

“Well, that is beyond robotics. I would say it’s artificial intelligence. The machines could be adapted to complex environments. If you think in our crimes scenes, we have a house with stairs, a building with a lot of security, a park with rough ground...” Spencer rambled.

“We know enough about that to shortlist potential unsubs?” Hotch asked.

“It depends,” Garcia - who was on speaker from Quantico - intervened. “We need to know more about the type of tech used for the devices,” she explained.

“Okay. Garcia, contact a local expert in the field who could help us on this,” Hotch requested.

“On it!” Penelope said before hanging up.

The next day the team was still stuck. Luckily there weren’t new victims yet.

Hotch stepped into the reunion room with a woman they couldn’t recognize.

“Let me introduce you to the team. This is SSA David Rossi, SSA Emily Prentiss, SSA Derek Morgan, and SSA Jennifer Jareau,” Hotch announced. “She is doctor (Y/N) (Y/L/N), an AI specialist from MIT. She has been working on this topic for years so she could help us with the points we can’t see right now.”

“A doctor, uh?” Prentiss noted. (Y/N) nodded.

“Yes. I have 3 Ph.D. in Computational Science, Engineering, Social and Engineering Systems, and Artificial Intelligence,” (Y/N) recounted. It was in an informative tone; she wasn’t saying it to brag in front of them.

“Three Ph.D., it was time to equal our genius,” Rossi pointed, chuckling.

“Talking about the genius, where is Reid?” Morgan inquired.

“He’ll be here soon. He’s our designated coffee-boy this morning,” Prentiss explained.

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes. It was years without hearing that last name - Reid.

A misfortunate coincidence, she thought.

Little did she know that the skinny man who entered the room with a bunch of coffees in hand was the same boy that was her classmate in Vegas eighteen years ago.

“Okay, I think I got everything you asked,” Spencer announced, leaving the cups over the roundtable.

The moment Spencer looked up and noticed the woman who wasn’t part of his team, his heart skipped a bit.

Was it real? Was she the same person he remembered from eighteen years ago?

Of course, she looked different. She grew up.

(Y/N) looked gorgeous. She has the same kind eyes he remembered so well. She seemed astonished, though. She never thought about being in this situation.

“Reid, this is doctor (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She is here to help us in this case. He’s SSA doctor Spencer Reid,” Hotch summarized.

Spencer only waved, a tight smile in return.

Would it be a good idea to say they knew each other? At the moment, tacitly, they agreed that it wouldn’t and acted as if they had never met before.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but remember everything that happened so long ago. She cursed herself for letting her mind wander to those years. It was a bittersweet taste. She spent the best time of her years in school, thanks to Spencer, but at the same time, it was the most abrupt and saddest end she could think of having.

It took a lot of time for her to move on and assume that she didn’t do anything wrong. That everything was an awful misunderstanding. One that Spencer never gave her the chance to clarify.

That didn’t prevent her remembers him fondly from time to time. She still missed their chats, the arguments about what book was better, the walks from school to home, the times she cried on his shoulder and comforted her.

(Y/N) never got that again with anyone.

But he left. And even if (Y/N) tried to put on his shoes to understand why he did it in that way, she never forgave him for doing it.

That’s why she opted for ignoring Spencer. He wasn’t her friend anymore.

This was only an unfortunate circumstantial encounter, nothing more. (Y/N) repeated that herself, avoiding Spencer’s pleading eyes.

Fortunately for her, Rossi and Prentiss took her to all the crime scenes, showing her details of the locations and possible clues that could help identify machine involvement in the murders. That kept her out of the precinct for much of the day, not having to see Spencer.

But during the afternoon, she had to share her impressions with the whole team. Although Spencer kept his distance from her, she could feel his eyes on her.

Evidence suggested the involvement of sophisticated machines, so (Y/N) helped by providing recommendations on where to visit and where to ask.

After Hotch assigned everyone a task, he asked (Y/N) if she could stay for a few more hours if they had any more questions.

“Dr. Reid can stay with you, and we’ll try to be quick, so we don’t take up any more of your time,” Hotch said gently.

She just nodded. It seems that the idea of leaving soon was fading fast.

When they were alone, Spencer cleared his throat and spoke.

“I - I’m sorry for not saying anything before. I didn’t know if you wanted them to know that we were...” Spencer trailed off.

“Schoolmates. Yeah. I didn’t know too, so don’t worry. If you don’t want them to know, I won’t say anything,” (Y/N) pointed.

“No. No, that’s not a problem at all. I just wanted to talk to you first.”

“Why?” (Y/N) asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Why what?”

“Why did you want to talk to me first? We haven’t spoken in what? Eighteen years?” (Y/N) said defensively.

Spencer sighed. She was still mad at him. He couldn’t blame her, though.

“(Y/N)...”

“It’s not that you have to feel obligated, you know?” (Y/N) gave him a way out. She wasn’t sure about having this conversation.

“I - I thought. I don’t know...” Reid trailed off.

Spencer was nervous because he remembered pretty well that he left Vegas without saying goodbye eighteen years ago. He knows it was a childish reaction, but he had twelve. What else could people expect from a kid with a broken heart?

“I didn’t know Spencer Reid could be speechless. That’s new,” she mocked.

“I know what I did was wrong. I’m sorry,” Spencer mumbled.

“Eighteen years late, I must say. But we don’t have the luxury of having this talk right now. I’m here to help, so I will ask you only to talk to me about the case. I hope it’s okay with you.”

Spencer bit his bottom lip and nodded. She was right. It wasn’t the place or the time.

Spencer panicked when Hotch called, saying they needed him to the takedown and that doctor (Y/L/N) could go back home. He wanted to talk to her, but she would do the same if he left, not giving him any chance.

Carefully he approached and told her what Hotch said.

“I have to go now, but... can we talk later? Please. Give me a chance to explain,” Spencer pleaded.

(Y/N) looked at him in silence for a couple of seconds. She knew it wasn’t a good idea, but she was curious about what he would tell her. After a deep sigh, she spoke.

“Met me at this coffee shop,” she wrote an address on the back of her business card. “I’ll be there until nine. Then I’ll go. I have to fly back to New York at midnight.”

Spencer nodded eagerly.

“I’ll be there.”

And he kept his word. After the unsub’s arrest, Spencer asked Hotch to stay in Boston one more night, which he agreed to. He quickly gathered his things and ran out of the precinct. The team looked at him curiously, but no one said anything. It would be a reason to question him later.

“How did it all turn out?” (Y/N) asked when Spencer made it into the coffee shop at eight pm.

“Pretty well. We arrested him, and there weren’t more victims,” Spencer recounted.

“I’m glad,” (Y/N) mumbled, sipping her coffee. She was working there: her laptop, many files, and three empty coffee cups were over the table.

“I - we need to thank you. You helped us a lot in this case,” Spencer said, gesturing to the barista to take his order.

“My pleasure,” she returned.

Too polite. Too impersonal. Spencer hated it.

“So, artificial intelligence, uh?”

He thought that small talk could break the ice.

“Yeah. Are you surprised?” (Y/N) frowned.

“Not really. I knew the machines were your scene,” Spencer acknowledged. (Y/N) chuckled.

“So, the FBI, uh?” (Y/N) mimicked his previous question. “That wasn’t obvious, though.”

“I know. You always told me I would be the next mathematician Novel Prize or that I would find the cure to schizophrenia,” Spencer remembered.

“Uhm. But you’re helping people. That’s nice. A worthy job,” she complimented.

“Your job is amazing, too,” Spencer rebutted, seeing the longing in (Y/N)’s eyes.

“You think so? Being secluded between four walls doing experiments with a bunch of scrap metal connected to computers? I don’t want to sound ungrateful, I love my job, but it’s clear you have more action than me.”

“About the action? You’re right. Although I think there must be some fun with the scrap metal,” Spencer joked.

(Y/N) smiled. How could he do that? How could he make her feel comfortable although all these years?

“May I assume this is only a catch-up meeting then?” (Y/N) asked, sipping her coffee again.

Spencer cleared his throat.

“I wish it were so, but you’re right. I need to tell you something first.”

(Y/N) left her coffee cup over the table and leaned back on her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Okay,” she muttered, preparing for what was to come.

Spencer leaned in, folding his hands over the table. He took some seconds to collect his thoughts.

“I don’t expect you to understand why I left Vegas like I did fully...”

(Y/N) scoffed.

“Thanks for trusting in my cognitive abilities,” (Y/N) did a reverence in mocking mode.

Spencer turned bright red. This wasn’t working as he wanted.

“No! That’s what not I meant! It’s not that you... fuck, I’m sorry. I’m nervous,” he cursed under his breath. (Y/N) narrowed her eyes.

Yeah, eighteen years, but he was the same scared boy stumbling over his own words, she thought.

“Okay. Let’s begin this again. Now I go first. Why didn’t you want to talk to me again? Why did you hide from me? I tried to apologize several times. I was really sorry, and you didn’t give me a chance. I thought we were friends. Why did you forget that so quickly?”

Spencer averted his gaze, looking through the window. It still was hard for him to talk about his feelings. Almost twenty years later, he felt again like the scared young boy everyone made fun of.

“I didn’t forget. But I was hurt (Y/N). It wasn’t easy for me,” Spencer confessed.

“Leaving aside the fact that I let those jerks ruin your more precious book, I know you thought I lied to you, but I didn’t, and you never granted me the chance to explain. It wasn’t fair, Spencer. It was hard for me too.” (Y/N) argued.

Spencer gulped hard. Was he going to tell her the truth? What the hell. The damage was done long ago.

“I was sad for the book, yeah. But it didn’t care to me much as you thought it did...” Spencer trailed off. (Y/N) looked confused. She always thought their friendship was ruined because she wasn’t careful with something he treasured the most, deceiving his trust.

“It didn’t? So why did you push me away? Was it because they told you I lied? Why did you feel betrayed? I don’t understand. We went through a lot in those years; why did you stop trusting in me at that precise moment?”

Spencer took a deep breath.

“I - I was embarrassed because I was heartbroken, (Y/N). You were not only my first kiss. You were also my first love,” Reid mumbled, gaze averting hers. (Y/N)’s eyes went wide. It took her some minutes to process what Spencer said.

“What? But I thought we were best friends...” she trailed off.

“We were, in fact. But it’s funny, you know? You were my first in so many ways. My first best friend, my first kiss, and my first love. But as with every first in life, it wasn’t meant to last. I learned that with time. I’m sorry if I hurt you by not realizing before.”

Tears started to push to come out of (Y/N)’s eyes. A dry chuckled left her lips.

‘Eighteen fucking years to get to know what happened,’ she thought.

(Y/N) didn’t know if she was mad at him for not telling her anything or herself for not noticing it.

Spencer narrowed his eyes.

“What?”

“Did you remember when we talked about having a first kiss? When I told you that Ryan was a jerk, you told me, ‘Can you name one of our classmates who is not a jerk?’ Do you remember what I told you?”

Spencer nodded, remembering the exact moment.

“You said ‘fair enough,’” he repeated. Of course, he would remember.

“That wasn’t my initial response in my brain. My initial thought was ‘You.’ That’s what I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t dare. I wanted that kiss with you because I trusted you; deep down in my heart, I knew I liked you. Not only as my friend. I don’t know if I would date you at that time, but when you left, I felt an emptiness that I never thought I would feel. You can say that you broke my heart too.”

She couldn’t stop the tears rolling down her cheeks. Spencer’s eyes softened after the realization.

“I - I didn’t know,” he mumbled.

“Neither do I. I mean, it was clear to me when you left. You know? Deep down, I hoped that someday you would reach for me. But you didn’t. That was the most it hurt. You forgot about me quickly, and I longed for you for a long time. When I finished my major, I moved from Massachusetts, and at that moment, my hopes died. You didn’t even get the package I left in your mom’s house, right?”

Spencer’s eyes were glassy. How couldn’t he see it? Why didn’t he do anything?

“I did,” he said. A small voice that (Y/N) barely could hear. “The books. I got them. When I visited mom months after I left, she pointed to the package on my desk.” He knew what she was thinking, and it hurt him most.

“So you read my apology note, with my Massachusetts address written there. And you didn’t write back. I was right then. You didn’t care,” a defeated (Y/N) mused.

“No! It’s not like that. I know how it looks but - but that wasn’t the reason. Far from that!” Spencer hastened to say.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We’re grown-up people now. I can understand it,” she reassured him, seeing that he was about to freak out.

“No! I was twelve (Y/N)! I was confused! Do you think I didn’t try to write back? I still have the stack of letters I didn’t send. God! Every week I walked to the post office, encouraging myself to do it. But the most time passed, I convinced myself that you would hate me anyway. So I backed up. I gave up,” Spencer sighed, trying not to sob.

“So you didn’t forget...” (Y/N) muttered to herself.

“How could I?! You actually were the most important person in my school life! You were my best friend. You have no idea the impact you had on me. I - I treasured every conversation we had, every hug, every time we spent together. Did you know why I ended up working at the FBI?”

(Y/N) shook her head. She didn’t know.

Spencer rummaged in his satchel and produced a book: ‘The Illustrated Man.’ It was (Y/N)’s copy. It was part of the content in the package she left with Diana Reid eighteen years ago.

The first time (Y/N) spoke with Spencer’s mom; she only had in her hands the copy of ‘War and Peace’ that she had bought to replace the ruined one. But when she was about to leave Vegas, (Y/N) thought it was fair that she should lose something she appreciated as much as Spencer appreciated his mom’s book. So she added her book to the pack. The funny thing it’s that Spencer didn’t have the chance to read it the night it was supposed.

The first time he came from Caltech to visit her mother, Spencer realized what (Y/N) had done. He took both books with him to California.

One night of longing, he read her book, and something changed in him. He understood why (Y/N) wanted him to read it. And even if Spencer never dared to write (Y/N) back, her book and the imprint she left in his heart were enough to keep her close to him for the years to come.

“Why do you still keep it in your bag?” (Y/N) asked, voice trembling.

“Because it reminds me of you. Because símbolize the best years I had with you. This is the way I tell myself that I never lose you even when I did,” Spencer explained.

“God, Spencer. You don’t know how long I blamed myself for hurting you and not being able to apologize appropriately. I wish you would have sent your letters. That way, I wouldn’t have been left thinking that I ruined your life without knowing it.”

(Y/N) was no longer sniffling, but you could see the stains of tears on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said, downcasting his eyes to his coffee cup.

“Me too,” (Y/N) replied, glancing at her watch. “I – I have to go now. I can’t miss the flight.”

(Y/N) stood and started to collect her things. Spencer looked at her in silence.

“So, I guess here is when we say goodbye,” she added.

Spencer nodded, standing as well. Now (Y/N) was ready to leave.

“Goodbye, Spencer.”

“Goodbye, (Y/N).”

Both kept in the same spot, looking at each other. Hoping someone would say something. Anything. But it didn’t happen. So (Y/N) gave a tight smile to Spencer and walked out of the coffee shop.

Spencer cursed himself.

Was he now letting her go and walk out of his life?

Was he going to make the same mistake as eighteen years ago?

No. Not this time.

Spencer ran out of the coffee shop, looking both ways to see where she had gone. He managed to see her just before he came around the corner.

“(Y/N)! Please wait!”

She turned and looked at him curiously. Spencer hurried to catch up.

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“I don’t want to make the same mistake. After all these years, if we met again, it must be for something. I don’t want to be like Hitchcock. I don’t want to lose myself in nothingness. And I want to believe that I can get you back in my life, only if you let me.”

She smiled as she realized she had quoted her favorite story from the book she gave him. Spencer looked at her expectantly.

After a couple of seconds of silence, she spoke.

“Are you sure you can keep up with me?”

Spencer chuckled.

“You’ve always had faith in me. Are you going to doubt this time?”

She took out of her pocket a business card and a pencil. Behind the card, she wrote down her cell phone.

“You don’t need my address this time, I guess,” she said, handing the card to him. “I just hope you’ll at least be able to send a message this time,” (Y/N) stated.

“It will be more than that. I promise,” Spencer said confidently.

“We’ll see,” she replied, turning and continuing on her way to catch the taxi that would take her to the airport.

Spencer looked at the number written on the card.

This time it would be different, he promised himself.

She was his first in many things. Spencer expected her to be so much more now.