Work Text:
Being a profiler for the FBI meant that Spencer often spent copious amounts of time at work and their latest case had kept him away for almost a week. He was exhausted and he wanted nothing more than to go home, curl up in bed with you, and forget about the horrors of the world for a little while. However, as soon as he walked in the door, he could sense something was wrong.
Your shared apartment was strangely empty, and he was immediately struck by how lifeless it felt. The lights were all off, casting the space into an eerie darkness, and there were no signs of any activity. The kitchen, usually bustling with your latest culinary experiments, was almost untouched, with only a single coffee-stained spoon teetering at the edge of the sink. The atmosphere was heavy with an uneasy silence, broken only by the sound of Spencer's own footsteps echoing through the space. The air felt stale as if it hadn't been disturbed in days. He moved around, opening a few windows to let in the fresh air. He called out your name a few times too, but there was no answer.
As Spencer continued his search through the empty apartment, he heard a faint sound coming from down the hallway. Following the noise, he made his way to your room, and the faint sound became more audible. He knocked on the door before inching it open, not wanting to startle you and he was met with the sight of you sitting at your desk, surrounded by textbooks, and notes. Several empty coffee cups, some several days old, sat crusting around the room forming rings on the papered surfaces that they rested on. The room itself was a mess too, with books and Post-it notes scattered haphazardly across every available surface. The bed was unmade, the curtains were drawn, and the only light in the room came from a single lamp on your desk.
As Spencer entered the room gingerly, stepping over the paper-strewn floor, he could see the panic written plainly on your face. Your breathing was shallow and fast, and you were clutching your pen so tightly that your knuckles had turned white. The stress of your exams had clearly taken its toll, and you were seconds away from breaking down. Your eyes were red and puffy from all the crying you had been doing and your apparent lack of sleep.
Spencer called out your name softly, "Hey, are you alright?"
You nodded, swiping a frustrated hand across your face as you frantically flipped through the pages of your textbook, eyes darting back and forth as you tried to absorb as much information as possible.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about me," your voice came out tinged with irritation.
"I know these exams are important, but have you been eating properly?"
"I guess."
Spencer looked around the room dubiously, his eyes counting the number of empty coffee cups around him.
"When was the last time you consumed something that wasn't caffeine?"
You shrugged, "I don't...I can't remember. Yesterday maybe- wait no, the day before...I think-it doesn't matter."
Spencer opened his mouth to give you all the statistics he knew on healthy eating and the dangers of excessive caffeine consumption but the dead-eyed stare you sent his way told him that you knew exactly what he wanted to say and you were in no mood to hear it.
"Maybe you need a break. You really don't look so good right now," he mumbled softly. "How much sleep have you been getting."
"I know that, Spencer! But these exams are the most important thing right now. I can't afford to take a break and sleep is entirely out of the question."
"You won't be able to be productive if you don't give your body the nutrients and rest that it needs to function. You know that as well."
"No, no, I can't, I need to study," you replied, voice shaking with anxiety. That was your breaking point and suddenly, your chest tightened, making you gasp for breath. Your heart was racing, and you felt like the walls were closing in around you.
Spencer recognized the signs immediately and quickly took action. He took your hand and pulled you out of your chair, guiding you to sit on your bed. He pulled you into a comforting embrace and you let him, as you continued to hyperventilate.
"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay. You'll be okay," he soothed, pressing his lips against your hair.
"I can't do this, Spencer," you said between sobs. "I'm going to fail my exams, I'm never going to get my research paper finished in time and I'm going to be a disappointment to everyone. I am such a failure."
"That's not true," Spencer stated firmly, his voice warm and reassuring. "You're incredibly smart, and you've worked so hard to get here. And besides, you could never be a disappointment, not to me, not ever."
"But-but what do I do? I feel so pathetic. I can never do anything right and no matter how hard I try it all feels so pointless. And then sometimes I think maybe I shouldn't even try at all because at least that way if I fail, I can say that it was because I wasn't trying. It's better than putting your all into something and still failing. There is no fixing me is there, there is no way that I can ever amount to anything and I will always be a mediocre loser. Oh god, I really am a failure."
You were spiralling at this point. You clutched the soft fabric of his sweater vest and curled into him, trembling in his arms as he pulled you even closer. You were shaking and gasping for air, your body heaving with sobs. Spencer carded his fingers through your hair and took deep measured breaths in the hopes that you would follow along. His heart broke for you, watching you struggle like this. He knew how hard you had been working, and how much you wanted to succeed. But he also knew that your mind was playing tricks on you and that this panic attack was just a manifestation of your anxiety.
"Oh love, you're not pathetic. Far from it. You are competent and capable and strong. You can do this, okay? And I'm here to help you. I'll always be here so just please take a break and let yourself rest."
"But what if-"
"None of that now. No more what-ifs. What matters is that you are trying your best right now."
Spencer pressed a loving kiss to your forehead to silence your protests. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders, pressing your face into his chest, and his steady heartbeat helped calm you down. Eventually, your shuddering wails stopped and the tears stopped flowing as you breathed in the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of coffee and old books. Your breathing began to regulate, and you felt the tension in your body dissipate. It's as if his touch alone was enough to put things in perspective and make everything seem a little bit more manageable.
"You feeling better darling?"
"I guess."
"We're gonna have to do better than that," he grinned down at you, pecking your cheek and pulling a watery smile from you.
"I missed you, Spence," you mumbled into his sweater before lifting your head and looking up at him through your teary lashes.
"I missed you too love."
Spencer leaned back slightly to look at your face, seeing the traces of your tears still lingering on your cheeks. Without hesitation, he closed the gap between you two and planted a soft kiss just under your eye, effectively kissing away any more tears that may have followed. Then he moved to your forehead and temple, peppering your face with kisses. On the furrow between your eyebrows and your eyelids when you closed your eyes in contentment, down your nose, and finally your lips. His kiss was sweet and reassuring and it made you sigh against him.
When he resumed his barrage of playful kisses all over your face, you couldn't help but giggle, "Spence, stop. I'm okay now, really."
Spencer leaned back again and looked at you, his eyes full of concern, "Are you sure? You know you can always talk to me if you need to, right?"
You nodded, expression softening, "I know, thank you. I just...I don't want to disappoint anyone, you know? My parents, my professors, you. I have to be perfect all the time but also I feel like I'm a big pretender because I'm the farthest thing from perfect and one of these days everyone will see through this act I'm putting up."
Spencer placed a gentle hand on your cheek and tilted your head up so that he could look you in the eye and show you the sincerity of his words, "You don't have to be perfect. You just have to be you. And I adore you, just the way you are."
"Thank you, Spencer," you whispered, your head going to rest against his chest. "I don't know what I would do without you."
"You'll never have to find out," he responded with a smile, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I'll always be here for you."