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Spencer doesn’t know what to do after Gideon leaves.
Gideon was the only person, apart from his family and a few old friends, who knew Spencer’s actual classification. He was the reason Spencer got into the BAU with a little classification, which is an extreme rarity itself, and he still managed to sweep it under the rug. It wasn’t on his qualifications or any of his personnel files, nobody else even considers him being a little a possibility. Spencer doesn’t have a clue how he did it, but he’s forever thankful.
Spencer’s a neutral. Everyone knows that. Or, they think that.
Now, Spencer feels the inevitable creeping up on him. He’s lied to his boss for so many years about such a huge part of himself. There’s a risk he could get himself fired if anyone on the team ever finds out.
Even just thinking about regressing, though, has him feeling cornered and jittery. He’s only ever felt safe being little in front of Gideon, and he just got up and left him. So, he doesn’t indulge.
He hasn’t regressed since Gideon left the team (left him). He’s cut himself off from rambling too much incase he gets excitable and he shoves his little gear into a box in his closet. He doesn’t need the reminder of what he is, who he is without Gideon.
In hindsight, he should have known it was a bad idea. An IQ of 187 and he can’t fathom the consequences of his own actions. He should have at least invested in some blockers the moment he made up his mind.
It’s almost been two months and he’s gotten by thus far, who’s to say he ever needs to regress again?
The chess board is out.
That’s what triggers all of this, and it’s so stupid. He doesn’t even know who is playing it (it’s obviously Rossi and Emily as they’re sitting either side of it) but he wants it put away. He tears his eyes away from it, focusing on his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table. He didn’t know he was doing that.
Thump. Slide. Everything is so quiet, the chess game is so loud. It’s meant to be a quiet, calming yet strategic game. It’s never been sore to his ears before.
He resists the urge to shrink in one himself, hands placed tightly over his ears. He can’t give himself away, not with everyone so close to him, so he settles for his headphones.
Headphones, headphones, headphones.
He looks around, getting progressively more frantic. Where are his headphones?
The pit in his stomach grows bigger and bigger with every passing second. He can’t have forgotten them, they were almost always in his go bag. Where are they?
He can’t believe he’s left them at the office, or at home, or on the street. There are so many possibilities where they could be laying, and his mind is too hazy to narrow down where they could realistically be.
He lets out a distressed hum after realising his breathing is uneven, alerting everyone around him of his panic in more ways than one. No Gideon, no headphones, and way too much attention; Spencer’s worst nightmare.
The lump in his throat is blocking him from getting any oxygen to his lungs and he’s hyperventilating before he can even comprehend what’s happening.
Morgan, who was sitting next to him, was calmly trying to get his attention. Though obviously concerned, Spencer appreciates the lack of yelling or touch from any of his coworkers.
“Kid, I need you to follow my breathing, yeah? Can you do that?” Morgan’s voice cuts through the white noise polluting his mind, and he tries his best to copy the over exaggerated breaths.
He can feel the worry and tension in the air, but it slips to the back of his head. Right now he’s between headspaces and doing everything in his power to stop himself from regressing. The comfort and care he’s receiving - been seeking - really isn’t helping.
Everyone’s eyes are still on him and he wishes the ground would swallow him whole, or a hole forms in the plane and he falls through, or—
“Reid? Are you with us?”
“Don’t overwhelm him, this could be related to his sensory issues.”
He shuts his eyes. He wants to go home, he wants his headphones, he wants Gideon to separate him from the rest of the team, he wants to be big. He runs his hands through his damp hair, then drags them over his eyes.
“Hea’phones,” he mumbles, mostly to himself, his voice somewhat slurred. He’s still looking for them, he still needs them.
The team seems to go silent. Spencer can see them exchanging glances with each other through the gaps in his fingers.
“Spence,” JJ shifts in her seat next to Emily, seeming nervous to continue speaking. “Do you mind telling us how old you are?”
That’s the missing piece of the ongoing puzzle in Spencer’s head. He tenses up at the question, pushing himself further away from everyone else.
“No, no, I-I don’t— I’m not—” He stutters out, slowly moving his hands off of his face. They fall at his chest, fidgeting nervously. “I don’ wan’ it. Don’ wanna be.”
His breathing is still very laboured but it’s an improvement from before. He at least has control over it now.
With all the sympathetic looks growing in number, Spencer feels the tears well up in his eyes. There are so many people around him and none of them are close to resembling Gideon.
Hotch, sitting opposite him, moves forward. Spencer is surprised to see Hotch looking so worried. He expected to see anger, betrayal, disappointment. He looks away, opting to observe the clouds and attempt to blink away his tears.
“Spencer,” and the name sounds foreign in Morgan’s voice. He’s always Reid or kid. “You can tell us what’s wrong. We’re here for you.”
Spencer shuts his eyes tightly, all too aware of the tears that were trying to free themselves. He wishes he were anywhere but work.
“Morgan, can you try and look for Reid’s headphones? I think that’s what set him off.”
With a nod to Hotch, Morgan pushes himself up and attempts to look around for cast astray headphones. Wanting to help in any way she can, JJ joins him. Emily and Rossi sit awkwardly, staring at him with so much pity and confusion.
Spencer hums to himself again, a familiar tune that Gideon used to play. “Gideon.”
There’s shuffling and suddenly Spencer feels a presence beside him, one replacing Morgan’s. He blinks open one eye, greeted by Hotch smiling softly at him.
“Hey, buddy.”
Gideon was very adamant on being polite, so he tries to greet Hotch back. He manages a very strained, tiny ‘hi’ with an awkward wave of one hand.
“Derek and JJ are looking for your headphones now, okay?” Spencer nods his head slowly. “I know you have them because you were wearing them on the car ride over.”
Relief washes over Spencer immediately. At least that’s one positive to come out of this experience.
“Ho’ch?” Spencer whispers.
“That’s me.”
“Make it stop,” Spencer looks up at Hotch with pleading eyes.
Hotcu visibly frowns and Spencer feels his bottom lip quivering, his sobs on the verge of breaking through.
“I can’t do that, Spencer. It’s not good to do that. There’s no shame in regressing, I hope you know that.”
Spencer hesitates before murmuring, “I know.”
Hotch seems somewhat content with the answer as he doesn’t pester Spencer with any more questions. Spencer simply shuffles closer, very warily, and looks as though he’s about to lean against Hotch’s side.
Hotch, realising this, hesitantly puts his arm out. He’s inviting Spencer to be held. Spencer can barely register the fact that no one is mad at him for keeping this a secret.
He lets himself fall beside Hotch, resting his head on the older man’s chest.
In the distance, Spencer hears Morgan.
“Found ‘em,” Morgan says softly, grinning and waving around Spencer’s headphones.
Spencer winces at how Morgan’s treating them. They could fall on the floor and break.
“Careful,” Spencer mumbles against Hotch’s blazer, eyeing the headphones.
“Be careful with them,” Hotch repeats, hand moving to stroke Spencer’s hair.
Morgan immediately adjusts his grip on them, carefully handing them to Hotch. “Sorry, Spencer.”
“‘S okay,” he offers a small smile which is immediately returned.
Hotch sits Spencer up, asking if he wants to put the headphones on himself. Spencer shakes his head, eyes drooping closed already. Who knew putting off his regression could be so tiring?
Hotch smiles softly and places the headphones over Spencer’s ears. Spencer fishes for his phone in his pocket, connecting it to the headphones.
He absentmindedly fiddles with the string while an audiobook plays, slowly lolling him to sleep. He finds himself falling in and out of sleep against Hotch’s chest, strangely feeling safe.
“He’s going to have to talk about it, is he not?” Spencer hears Emily ask through the droning of chapter 4 of his audiobook.
“Eventually,” Hotch answers, threading his fingers subconsciously through Spencer’s hair again. “He’ll probably be embarrassed and emotional if we try to initiate the conversation. He needs time to collect himself and decide where he stands.”
Hesitantly, Morgan asks, “Like if he wants to regress with us?”
“Possibly, but don’t push him for a decision right away.”
“Yes, sir,” Morgan teases, smile evident in his voice.
Spencer’s almost sure they’re aware he’s awake, even if he purposely evened out his breathing and kept his eyes closed. They are a group of profilers, afterall.
“He’s our friend and we care about him,” JJ says softly, everyone making their agreement known in different ways.
“Of course,” Hotch replies.
Despite ‘being asleep’, Spencer lets himself smile. He lets himself exist.