Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Entering his apartment after his time in the hospital was not the comfort he hoped it to be. He walked in alone, running his hands over the strap of his messenger bag.

His team had brought things back a week earlier. His go bag sat against a bookshelf. None of his things had been unpacked, the book he'd brought on the plane lay beside it and in the time since it had been set down had slid to fall open on the pages.

He barely restrained a wince. He could deal with that later.

It had taken nearly all his energy to climb the stairs up to his apartment. Spencer tipped slightly, sending him colliding with his door frame. He let out a hiss of pain, he pressed a hand against the wall as he staggered forwards. Spencer hadn't realised how little strength he had. 

He sucked in a breath, quickly discarding his bag by the door. Spencer tried to force himself to stand upright but his knees began to buckle the moment he removed his support. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pushed himself forward. All he needed to do was to get a decent way into his apartment so that when he collapsed, he wouldn’t have to drag himself across the carpet in an attempt to reach his couch. 

His heart pounded against his ribcage like a jack rabbit. His vision swam as he tipped forward, stumbling over his own shoe laces as he swayed towards his couch. He was barely able to steady himself as he caught his forearm on the back of his couch. He turned, planting two hands down behind him and slowly he sank to the floor.

He wiped a hand over his face. They shook and his breath hitched. They were pale enough to make the lingering bruises stand out like neon lights. He let them fall, resting heavy against his knees. 

Spencer stared down at his shaking, goosebump covered arms and the bright red track marks they sported. His gaze was transfixed on his skin. 

It was wrong. 

Everything about it was wrong.

His skin was cold and ashen, as if he had never quite come back from death. He felt his bones and muscles, but it didn't feel all there. There was a certain awareness that he held as his skin crawled, worms snaking through the membrane between the radius and ulna. The way that the fabric felt beneath his fingers was like grave dirt and gravel.

Spencer wrapped his arms around himself, the back of his head pressed into the wall. He felt hollow.

It was like swimming through honey to even drag his gaze upwards. His intent was focused on his go bag. He staggered forward reaching for it, barely able to pull it close. He struggled with the zippers, prying it open with all his might before he began rifling through it- then he felt it.

In his hand was an old, bright red flip phone. He handled it with care as he shoved aside the remaining contents of his bag. He stroked a thumb over the hard plastic casing, for a moment just taking it in. He hadn't touched it in years, he hadn't had a chance to notice the crack that had formed from the abuse that bag had gotten or the scratches that littered it.

He sucked in a breath. 

It was stupid. 

But Spencer was desperate. 

The walls were too close, the air was stale and he felt like he was choking. It reminded him too much of death. His apartment was small and lonely, and had become nothing short of a casket.

His phone was his graveside bell. 

He knew nobody would pick up. Every time he'd used the burner it never came with a response. Yet unlike with his team he could pretend, if his call was never answered, who's to say that it wasn’t listened to. It was a cold comfort, but it was more than nothing.

He flipped the phone open and dialed the only saved number.

"Hey Eliot-" Spencer choked as he lifted the phone up to his ear. He nearly winced at how forced it sounded. 

"I- It's bad. I don't know- I don't know what to say ." He sucked in a breath as he slumped against the back of his couch. It was almost funny. He only ever had the heart to call when he was on the verge of a breakdown. 

Versions of himself sat beside him, younger but just as terrified. Just after Pasadena when he’d trailed after Gideon, having to help pick up the pieces of his own mentor. After he’d let his mother be taken and slumped against his childhood bedroom door, clutching his bag to his chest.

“My last case it- it-” Spencer choked as he grasped for the right words. His fingers wound round the fibres of his sweater. “I got taken. I was stupid and I went off alone- which I should have never done. I was there for- for days and… and I’m sick Eliot.” Spencer takes a deep breath in and feels himself fall into a familiar form of distance. 

He feels disconnected. For a moment it feels like he’s not talking about himself. About some other… about one of the victims.  He’s standing in front of a murder board, studying the photos. He’s studying his own skin. The fractures of his bones, the mottled skin, the blood shot eyes. 

“I got out of the hospital yesterday. I had minor fractures in my foot, I was severely dehydrated and disorientated, I was... discovered in the middle of the woods alongside the body of…” Spencer hesitates, his nails digging into his skin. He doesn’t draw blood, he can’t force them in deep enough. “Tobias Hankel.” 

The name doesn’t send chills through his bones or set his hairs on end but instead he’s overcome with a wave of grief. Spencer could feel himself choke. Spencer saw so much of himself in him, so much of his mother and his friends. Even through the fog of trauma and drugs he remembers Tobias’ eyes, Spencer would never be able to forget the way that Tobias asked him.

Spencer remembers the way Tobias looked as Spencer sank to his knees and let the gun fall.

There had only been one bullet.

Spencer had always been a gambling man. 

“I’d started digging my own grave. I was going to be buried. Or- or shot or stabbed- ” Spencer was near breathless, his eyes blurred but he forced himself to blink away the daze. He’d begun to shiver. Spencer tried to ignore the way his skin buzzed and itched, how he wished desperately to tear through his flesh. “I’m sick… Eliot. I- there’s no one else .” 

“They’re- they’re all doing these- these important things and cases and they’re stopping killers! But I’m here- I’m here and I died. They care- I know they do but they- I- I’m not as important. I could never be as important.” Spencer felt as if he were going insane 

“I’m sorry- this is- this was unwise.” Spencer sucked in a breath tugging at his hair. “I hope you’re out. I hope that- that I can talk to you again.”

Spencer wiped at his eyes, his throat closing up. “I’m sorry.” Spencer said again softly snapping his phone closed. His knees slid up to his chest and his head slipped down into them. He let the phone drop from his hand, doing nothing as it skidded across the floor. 

Spencer was tired.

He falls asleep on the floor, knees tight to his chest.

Spencer's head feels as if it were stuffed with cotton. There's a dull throb of pain that's settled just behind his eyes, a pain aggravated by the light rapping on his door. Acid coated his throat as he forced himself to stand and his knees nearly buckled as he attempted to manoeuvre himself away from his couch.

Spencer was still in the clothes he'd left the hospital in, save for the tie he'd discarded on the kitchen counter. He looked down at himself and restrained a wince. With shaky hands he did what he could to straighten his button up and roll down his sleeves as he propped himself up against the hallway wall. 

He took a deep breath in and pressed on a smile and slowly turned the knob. 

What he’d been expecting was Penelope Garcia, short, well meaning and carrying a basket full of baked goods he couldn’t stomach and books he’d have to strain his eyes to properly read. He’d forced on a smile, attempting to hide the days of lack of sleep. 

His facade faltered when he finally recognised who was in front of him.

Instead what Spencer was greeted with was a man in a worn leather jacket and a bandana wrapped around his head. Spencer blinked, his smile dropping as he placed the back of his hand to his forehead, leaning against the doorframe in an attempt to keep himself on stable footing. "Eliot?" Spencer's voice shook as he looked him over, tears welling in his eyes.

He was hallucinating. He had to be hallucinating.

Spencer’s grip on the doorframe tightened, his nails dug into the wood. His breathing had quickened to the point he was close to hyperventilating. 

Eliot was older definitely, and had grown out his hair- but it was still Eliot. It had been years since he'd last heard from him, even more so since he'd seen him. Yet he was here, standing in front of Spencer’s apartment, waiting to be let in. 

"You look like crap." Spencer tried to take a step back only to stumble. Quickly Eliot grabbed him by his arm and shifted Spencer's weight onto him as Eliot swore beneath his breath. "Shoot- don't strain yourself, you look like you're going to topple over with a small breeze."

They staggered into Spencer's apartment, Eliot did his best to drag him back inside. Unsurprisingly it was incredibly easy to do so, Spencer leant heavily onto Eliot, his cheek pressed against Eliot’s hair. 

"God- you're... Eliot you're here." Spencer breathed out, somewhat delirious. 

"You called." Eliot said bluntly as he tipped Spencer over and onto his couch. Carefully he picked up the thin blanket that had been discarded and draped it over the younger man. 

"But I didn't expect you to show up." Spencer laughed, wiping away tears that trailed down his cheek. Eliot stared at him for a moment before turning away, drifting deeper into Spencer’s apartment. 

“Where do you keep your blankets?” 

“Second closet on the left.” Spencer tucked the blanket up to his shoulders. Spencer could hear as he rifled through his things. His skin began to itch and he opened his mouth to tell him to stop-

“I’m not messing up your system.” Eliot said before he had a chance to comment. Spencer shrunk slightly, curling deeper underneath his blanket. “Med kit?” Spencer hesitated for a moment, biting his tongue.

“Under the kitchen sink.” He said finally. He needed to be treated, and he wasn’t anywhere near the state of mind to do it himself. His arms ached and he would struggle to manoeuvre them in a way that wouldn’t result in him doubled over in pain. 

“Glad to see you haven’t changed much.” Spencer bites back a chuckle at the comment. 

Vegas afternoons sitting on the kitchen counter had been… eventful. It didn’t matter which one of them ended up being fussed over, they both sat right next to the kitchen sink, pushed away the bottles of cleaning supplies and went to work. Eliot’s nearly broken nose, Spencer’s black eye and bruised ribs and Eliot’s subsequent somewhat broken hand. 

Spencer never thought to keep it anywhere else. 

“I like keeping things consistent.” Eliot returns with quilted blankets towered high in his arms, he draped one over Spencer setting the rest beside him and in reach. Spencer moves to grab another inadvertently exposing his arms. Spencer can see the way Eliot looked at them, they were bright red and near bloody. He’d nearly forgotten he’d been scratching at them. He hastily wraps his hands around the worst of it. “I-”

“You don’t have to explain it.” 

“I was drugged.” Eliot's gaze doesn’t drift, keeping it on Spencer’s face. Spencer’s grip around his arms tightened. Spencer doesn’t exactly know what he wants, rather what he expects. He finds himself waiting for a reaction. Spencer didn’t get one. 

“Is it alright for me to-” Eliot had crouched down, kneeled beside the couch and set the kit on his knees. 

“Yes- I just…” Spencer stares at him for a moment. Slowly he relaxes his hands, unclamping them and finally allowing them to fall by his side.  “Yes, it's fine. Just get it over quickly.” 

“Arms.” Sluggishly Spencer lifted them up, letting Eliot take one and slowly wrapped it with bandage. “You’re as much of a toothpick as you were in highschool.” 

“I was twelve.” Spencer can’t keep his eyes off Eliot’s hands as he works. 

“That means you had an excuse.” Eliot tucked the loose end beneath the layers, forgoing the safety pin it had come with. “Now you’re this hotshot suit and still look like a breeze could knock you over.” The fabric of the wrapping itched. It was old, something he’d dragged with him from Vegas. In places he noticed the near blackish stains, old blood from fights he never had a chance of winning. 

He’d have to clean them later. 

“I got in with exceptions.” He heard the way that Eliot laughed, a small smile inched across Spencer’s face as corrected himself. “...alot of exceptions.” Slowly Eliot set down his arm, moving to get another from the kit.

“You’re a hot commodity, I’m not surprised.” Spencer gives him a look as Eliot lifts Spencer’s other arm, winding the fabric around the crook of his elbow. “If they hadn’t swooped you up I know a few guys I know who’d be interested in running with you.” 

“I think you’ve been fed false information.” Spencer was barely able to hold back a snort, his head began to pound and he had to squeeze his eyes shut in an attempt to remove the stars dancing across his eyes. 

“Might’ve been talking to the wrong card players then.” Eliot raised a brow as Spencer became flustered. Spencer’s face grew red as he buried his face in his hands.

“Oh I should’ve known they’d talk.” Spencer groaned out. 

“Gamblers, man. So how many casinos are you banned from now?” Eliot chuckled as he set down Spencer’s arm and began packing away the kit. “Last I heard it was at least two.”

“It’s five if they haven’t started talking to each other.” Spencer gave him a small laugh as Eliot stood. 

“Do you have any other things I should worry about?” 

“I had minor fractures in my left foot, they were treated fully before I was released.” Spencer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Eliot lightly looked him over, then out onto Spencer’s apartment.

“Great, you’re staying on the couch.” Spencer’s eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to protest but Eliot simply stared him down. “What? Spencer, you look moments away from collapse already. I’m not letting you attempt to walk around your tripping hazard of an apartment.”

“Fine.” Spencer bit out. 

Silently Eliot unpacked his bag, it was a beat up duffel packed tight with everything he’d need. He set them out in small piles, beside one of Spencer’s chairs. 

Spencer stared at him as he went through the motions, something twisting in Spencer’s gut. He moved like the Eliot he knew, a little too stiff, his subtle glances back to make sure in the few seconds Spencer had that he’d not gotten himself in more trouble. In so many ways he was still the teen he’d met in Vegas. The differences were the things that set him on edge, he noticed the scar trailing along his knuckles and peaking out from his jacket. The way he walked had changed, a little more confident and a little more steady. There were more but if the gears started turning then they would never stop.

You don’t profile your friends.

Mentally Spencer had prepared himself for changes. The information he’d gathered hadn’t painted a pretty picture. War, private work, retrievals. A person couldn’t be the same after that. Spencer had seen it frequently enough in the field. 

Seeing it in Eliot was different. It didn’t make his reality shatter, but it bent it just a bit. It made him feel almost hollow. Spencer sighed as he wiped a shaky hand over his face. “Why are you actually here, Eliot?” Eliot paused, taking a moment to look up at Spencer. 

“You called me.” He stated bluntly, shrugging.

“That’s not-” Spencer flexed his hands, running his fingers across the seam of the quilt, tracing the stitches. “Why now. You came all the way to Quantico from- from wherever you were, after years of nothing.” Eliot let out a sigh, raking a hand through his hair. 

“I didn’t have an option before.” 

“I saw you visit Aimee.” Spencer doesn’t blink, he doesn’t even think before he responds. Almost immediately shame hits him like a truck. 

“That- Spence-” Eliot was taken aback, his brows furrowed slightly. 

“I’m sorry- that- that wasn’t fair.” Spencer stumbled over his apology. He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I’ve just… you were all I really had. I wanted an explanation. I knew after a… while why but before that I… I wanted to just talk to you.” Eliot scans his face, for a moment a flicker of remorse passes over his own. 

“I should’ve called.”

“But you couldn’t.” Spencer can’t muster the energy to look at him, instead his eyes trace over his ceiling. 

“Right,” Eliot says, somewhat defeated. “But, I’m here now. I can’t make up for when I wasn’t, but I’m going to be here until you get better.”

“What, is that meant to be a promise?” Spencer let out a soft chuckle, his eyes growing heavy. 

“No, we both know how that goes.” Eliot gives him a small laugh. “Sleep.” Slowly he settled into Spencer’s chair. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Sunlight streamed onto Spencer’s face, forcing him to blink. He rose slowly, using a hand to cover his eyes as they slowly adjusted to the light.

“Morning princess.” Spencer nearly jolted upright. A flash of panic overwhelmed him, his head spun, stumbling over the possibilities. He could feel himself choking, up until he could finally catch a glimpse of the man sitting on his chair with one of Spencer’s books sitting on  his lap.

“...Eliot.” Spencer said, relief washing over him as recognition finally sank in. His heart raced at a mile a minute, pounding violently against his ribcage. He heaved out a breath, wiping a hand over his face.

“What, not used to waking up to someone?” Eliot laughed.

“Thank you, Eliot.” Spencer rubbed his eyes, wiping away the last dredges of sleep. “What time is it?”

“Past noon.” Eliot said as he adjusted his glasses, setting down his book. Spencer jolted upright much to Eliot’s annoyance. “Relax. Stay where you are, you’re not getting up.” 

“No I-” Preemptively Eliot stood, ready to catch Spencer as he failed to stand. Spencer’s vision swam and he staggered, colliding with Eliot’s chest hard. Eliot steadied him before sitting him back down on the couch. 

“You never listen do you?” 

“I’ve been told that.” Spencer sighed as he attempted to readjust himself. He took a moment to look Eliot over, he’d changed his shirt, and it was slightly rumpled. The piles of clothes remained mostly untouched by his bag. He hadn’t made any attempt to move his things into Spencer’s guest room. There was a beat before it clicked. “Did you sleep in my chair?! ”

“It was decent enough.” Eliot shrugged, sitting back down.

“That-” Spencer squinted at him, before cutting himself off. “How long did you sleep?”

“About as long as you normally do.” Eliot said as Spencer shot him a glare. 

“Medically speaking you’re meant to get at least-”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to lecture me after you were awake for eighty one hours.” Spencer’s jaw clamped shut. He fumbled for a response as Eliot stretched looking a little too smug. 

“That was one time while I was working on my first PhD.” Spencer countered. 

“I had to drag you to the hospital.” Eliot raised a brow as Spencer shrunk into the covers. 

“That is… a fair point.” Shame slowly crept into Spencer’s tone. He’d nearly forgotten about that, then again near dangerous levels of sleep deprivation would alter one’s memory. 

“Drink.” Eliot handed him a cup from the coffee table which Spencer took in both hands. His hands still shook and they ached as they wrapped around the glass. 

“Thankyou.” He said softly as he set the glass down on the floor. 

“Do you need more blankets?” Eliot slowly stood, tucking his glasses into his breast pocket.

“And toast? It’s all I’ll be able to stomach.” 

“I’ll get on that.” Eliot tossed a light blanket directly onto Spencer’s chest. Spencer coughed at the impact and shot Eliot a light hearted glare. 

Spencer took a moment to attempt to steady his breathing and stop his head from spinning. He was freezing, even beneath the layers of blankets and his body shook like a leaf. Keeping track of time was difficult as seconds seemed to turn into a haze. Spencer took a deep breath in flexing and unflexing his hands. He could get through this.

Eliot gently set down the plate on the table and Spencer didn’t even get a chance to touch it before his head began to pound. The smell was enough to send out a wave of nausea. It encroached on his vision as his throat began to burn. His stomach turned and he choked. 

“Eliot- help me up.” Spencer bit out as he pushed himself up. His hand gripped onto the arm rest as he beckoned Eliot over. “I’m going to be sick.”

“Shit. Alright.” Eliot offered out his arm, letting Spencer use it to heave himself upwards. Spencer stumbled to the bathroom, slamming the door open he headed straight to the toilet. He gagged as bile rose up his throat, burning his esophagus.  He coughed, hacking up into the toilet. His breathing was quick and sharp and his eyes began to blur. 

Spencer staggered to the sink, quickly washing off his hands. “You good?” Eliot had waited by the bathroom door. 

"I’m- I’m fine it’s just acid" Spencer choked out, head hanging over the sink. 

"Do you want me to-" Eliot scanned him over, Spencer was trembling, his only real form of support in the marble of his bathroom countertop and his gradually loosening grip. 

"Yes." Spencer motioned him over as he wiped his eyes. Eliot ducked underneath his arm, shifting Spencer's weight onto him. Spencer stumbled slightly in the process, nearly losing his footing resulting in Eliot letting out curses beneath his breath. 

"Sit or stay standing?”

"If I move I think I might experience centrifugal force." Spencer breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut. "There's a cup under the sink." Spencer shuffled to the side, letting Eliot get to his cabinets.

“Here.” Eliot held out the old metal cup as Spencer turned on the tap. Spencer gently took the filled cup and proceeded to down it. “Back to the couch?” 

For a moment Spencer was able to glimpse himself in the mirror. He was gaunt, his hair was greasy and lifeless. The bags beneath his eyes were deep enough to be mistaken for bruises. As he looked further he was greeted by a growing sense of discomfort, followed by nothing. Just emptiness because in his eyes all he could see was Tobias. 

“Please.” Spencer wheezed out, he squeezed his eyes shut as he turned his head away. 

Eliot didn’t exactly carry Spencer back to the living room but it was something close to it. Spencer could barely stand 

“I need to redo your wrappings.” Eliot sat beside Spencer on the couch. Spencer offered up an arm as he settled himself back in. Slowly Eliot began unwrapping his previous day’s work as Spencer’s thoughts began to muddle. 

“I don’t think I can look at myself in the mirror.” Spencer said suddenly as he stared blankly up at the off white ceiling, counting the streaks and the grooves. Eliot paused, gently letting down Spencer's arm and setting the wrapping to the side. Spencer’s eyes were hazy and unfocused as Eliot let out a sigh. 

“It doesn’t get easier, but eventually you get used to the person you see.” Eliot offered. Spencer’s brows furrowed as hastily wiped away the budding tears. He propped himself up, setting his arms in his lap. 

“You know I- I used to get nightmares. After the worst cases but this- Eliot he talked to me.” Spencer breathed out. “He was about to cry he was- how do I deal with it?!” 

“I couldn’t. Not for a long time.” Eliot offers Spencer a hand to which he takes. “But I remember them. I can’t make excuses for my actions. You did what you had to do to survive, it doesn’t change that someone is dead.” Spencer looks into his eyes, they’re defeated. “You’re grieving him, Spencer.” Spencer pulls his hand away, for a moment feeling as if he’d been shot. 

“But it feels wrong to.” Spencer’s nails dig into his skin. He doesn’t know how exactly to articulate the maw of the beast he’s fallen into. Eliot seems to understand.

“Remember him.” 

“I can’t forget.” Spencer says, almost a whisper. 

Spencer falls asleep, his heart and eyes heavy.

"Glad to see your cabinet hasn't changed in the past eight years" Eliot said. Spencer scoffed, head pressing into the cool wood of the table as Eliot side eyed him from Spencer's pantry. "I'm giving you a pass because you're barely out of the hospital. I am going to pass judgement if it still looks like this the next time I'm here." There was a beat before Spencer responded. 

"...It won't." Eliot snorted as he continued to rummage through, discarding boxes of unopened cereal onto the ground.

"You're a terrible liar." Eliot took what he could salvage and unloaded it onto the countertop. He sorted through what he could reasonably make into a meal, his options were... sparse. Spencer barely had it stocked, mostly consisting of non-perishables. Eliot made a point not to comment on it. 

"Only you seem to say that." Spencer quickly lifted his head as the conversation caught up with him. "What do you mean next time? " 

"What- you expect me to not check in on you? Spencer you're a disaster." Eliot made a point to ignore Spencer’s noise of disagreement. "You barely took care of yourself when we were kids. Clearly you have not improved." 

"You have a bad habit of kicking people when they're down." Spencer grumbled. 

"It's in the job description." Eliot dumped what he could salvage onto the counter top. He’d settled for the cans of soup Spencer had bought months ago before he began rummaging through what was left of his fridge. 

It was far less stocked than the pantry ever was. A few cartons of milk and an old, near dead package of carrots and celery. Spencer could almost feel the look of disappointment being bored into him from across the apartment. 

"How's Aimee?" Spencer asked in an attempt to steer the conversation. Eliot stiffens, pausing for just a moment before he began cutting the vegetables. Spencer is barely able to restrain a snort. "Good to know that it ended well for you." 

"I showed my face and it turned into a shouting match." Eliot huffed. 

"How frequently did you check in with her?" There was a pause, leading to Spencer slowly and carefully leaning forwards, just so he could stare him down in the silence. "Eliot, the fact that you most likely checked in with her, only in the time that I saw it , leads me to believe that you deserved it." 

"She was more hung up on the ring-" Eliot said, his tone far too light. Spencer was promptly sent into a coughing fit.

"I think you might be one of the most disconnected from reality person I have ever met. You proposed. " Spencer let out an astonished laugh as Eliot turned to him. 

"It wasn't a proposal! It was a promise ring, there's a difference." He waved a threatening  knife in Spencer’s direction. Spencer merely took it as an invitation to continue. 

"A difference big enough for you to get chewed out on sight." Eliot's silence was as good as damning. Spencer restrained a disappointed sigh. "For the record, I think you should be happy all Aimee did was shout at you, otherwise you'd be buried in the paddock." 

"Keep talking like that and I'll drown you in the soup." Eliot pushed to which Spencer laughed. 

"You respect the food too much to even try it." 

They fell into a silence as Eliot continued cooking. Spencer desperately aches for conversation. To know things. But he can’t find anything to say. He can’t talk about the things he does now and he has no idea how to talk about the things that they did. Eliot isn’t the same person he was eight years ago. He never could be. 

But still Spencer sees the parts of him that was, he can see that Eliot in the way he helps him stand and helps Spencer steady himself. He can still see the jerk of a football player who nearly broke his hand in a fight. 

Spencer as he looks at his own hands, recognized they’re different too. Not just outside the horrors he’d only just experienced, but the years prior. His job, his schooling. He had to change, he had to adjust so that he could be accepted.

Spencer takes a deep breath in and finally asks something. "So, you're out for good now?" Eliot stiffens at Spencer’s comment. “Sorry, I heard some rumours when I asked around.” Spencer attempted to correct himself only to get a strained look from Eliot. 

"You were keeping tabs on me?" 

"I had some contacts." Spencer tried to keep his tone steady but instead came off slightly sheepish. 

"Interpol?" Eliot scoffed. There was a beat of silence before he turned to a slightly ashamed looking Spencer. 

"...You could say they were in contact with Interpol?" Spencer offered. 

"You were using my contacts?!" 

"Some of them." Spencer shrugged and Eliot looks near murderous. 

"That's insanely stupid." 

"I kept to the ex-military crowd, stepping any further would've had me flagged in my background check for the academy." Spencer tried to explain but quickly grew flustered.

"So that's where the line is, real bright Einstein." Eliot wiped a hand over his face. 

"I wanted to make sure you weren't dead! I stopped doing it consistently after I joined my team!" Spencer shouted as Eliot glared. 

"Consistently. Really selling yourself." Eliot’s bemusement is clear on his features. 

"Do you remember Casey?" Spencer’s shoulders had raised up to his ears as he directed attention elsewhere. 

“ John Casey?” He said the name slowly as he stared Spencer down. “We’ve been in contact. Did a few jobs with him." 

"He’s taken up work with the NSA." A rush of relief washes over Spencer as Eliot’s eye twitches. 

"That lying bastard." Eliot bites out, knife sinking deep into the cutting board. 

"He was a valuable source of information.” Spencer leans forward, resting his chin in his palm. “Don’t be too mad, he kept the details to the minimum. He did go into extensive detail on your work in regards to a retrieval mission with a sword.”

"I'm going to break his jaw next time I see him."

“I would prefer if you didn’t, the recovery time would compromise his current case.” There’s a beat as Spencer debates the outcome. Casey was a man who could hold his own and Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if Eliot needed a challenge. “Reading the report would be fascinating.” Spencer said almost wistfully. 

Spencer was barely able to dodge as an empty can was thrown at his face. 

Eliot sets down their bowls, taking the seat across from him. Spencer stirs it absentmindedly until Eliot breaks his thoughts with a freight train. “How’s your mom?” It takes everything Spencer has not to completely freeze. He swallows down his discomfort and lightly coughs.

“She’s been…” He looks at Eliot, the way the man looks at him makes his heart ache. If it were anyone else Spencer might’ve thought he was aiming for a reaction, but Eliot’s eyes had slightly softened, his arms had remained uncrossed and he was studying Spencer’s face. “She’s had better days.” He settles on. 

“When’s the last time you saw her?” Eliot continues and Spencer falters, panic quickly overtaking him. His stare goes blank and his breath hitches. “Shit- sorry man. I- you don’t have to answer that.” 

“No it’s-” Spencer screws up his face as a memory comes to surface. Fire and smoke is choking his lungs. “The last time I saw her was for a case and- and it wasn’t good for any of us.” 

“Not the best time for a family reunion.” 

“Even worse to have your team find out your mother’s a schizophrenic.” Spencer lets out a strained laugh before he continues. “At least that detail got swept up in the fact we nearly died in an explosion.” 

“That’s one way to deal with it.” Eliot let out a low whistle. “Glad to know I’m not the only one who’s nearly been blown up.” Spencer sets down his spoon so that he can just stare at him. 

“Eliot-” Spencer’s voice was slightly strained. 

“You say that like I was the one who set it off!” 

“ Eliot.” 

“I didn’t set it off! You- you should have more faith in me as your friend.” Eliot scoffs, pointing his spoon at the man.

“And as a criminal?” Spencer gives him a dead-eyed stare. 

“That’s a fair point.” Eliot slumps back in his chair. “But I didn’t set off the bomb. It’s a funny story actually, that's how I met my crew.” 

“You? Working with people?” Spencer chuckles lightly. 

“I’m full of surprises, I can be flexible.” Eliot says to which Spencer is barely able to hold back a snort. Spencer’s expression softens before he continues. 

“Are they good?” 

“We have a reputation.” 

“Nearly getting blown up would do that.” Spencer said pointedly, to which Eliot gave him a look. 

“If you have a problem with that, take it up with our client.”

“Clean up job.” Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. Attempted murder was a great way to make people bond. “What exactly is your team like? You never really had that before.” 

“They’re-” Eliot started but looked slightly pained. “They’re interesting .”

“Types that I could get information from names alone?” Spencer raised a brow. 

“At least one of them.” Eliot set his bowl to the side. “We work well together, but uh- there have been some situations .” 

“That sounds concerning.” Spencer pushed him to continue. 

“Parker nearly got me killed, Hardison’s a jackass, Nate’s constantly on the verge of something stupid. Sophie’s a grifter and did some of that neuro-linguistic programming on me.” Eliot listed off on his fingers. 

“And your reputation has done you no help? How many fights have you gotten into unprompted?” Spencer responded without even blinking. 

“I only resort to violence when it’s necessary.” 

“I heard word about an interaction with a man named Jim-” Spencer starts, a little too smug. 

“If you say Sterling I swear to god I’ll break the bowl.” Eliot cut him off as he pointed the spoon aggressively at Spencer. 

“I assume there’s a story there?” 

“He blew up our office.” Eliot stated. “And tried to get me arrested. And hired a man to go after me. He broke three of my ribs.” His upper lip curled as he spoke.

“A completely reasonable reaction then.” 

“We all hate him. I’ve been through hell because of them.” Eliot took a deep breath in. “ But , they’re my crew. Sophie backs my plays. Hardison, despite grating my nerves, has saved my ass. Parker might be one of the best thieves I’ve worked with. Nate understands how we work- he sometimes even is a functioning leader. He’s good at what he does.”

“You really care about them.” Spencer said softly. 

“Wouldn’t have stuck around this long if I didn’t. I’m stuck with them.” Eliot chuckled.“So- your fed team.” 

“They’re… They’re nice.” Spencer sucks in a breath. “I don’t think they really know how to treat me. Sometimes I’m just the kid but the next I’m their genius, expected to answer all of their questions and assumed to already know everything. It gets confusing.” 

“Tell me about them. The unclassified details.” Eliot said lightly.

“They care about me,” but Spencer finds himself faltering. 

They do care about him, they genuinely do. Yet they fail to recognise certain aspects of his own relationship with the team. It always felt like he was toeing a line, he wanted desperately to talk to them, but everything he said could be construed as a reason for him to be removed from the team. They handle him with kid gloves yet still expect him to be an adult. 

It’s conflicting. They’re his family, but they’re also all he has. He’s rarely in contact with his mother outside of writing and they all have lives outside of the team. Spencer was isolated. He couldn’t make the connections they had. He just didn’t know how. 

Attempting to use his old connections would result in his own arrest. He’d be alone again. 

“They’re like my family.” Spencer continues after a moment. “Emily might be the only person who has managed to beat me in cards. JJ, she is the closest thing to a grifter I’ve met without becoming a criminal, which frankly I find terrifying . Morgan and Garcia are constant flirts, Hotch has settled into his role as a disappointed father figure and Gideon… he’s one of the best.” Spencer attempts to keep his tone steady but it begins to slip as he reaches the end. Eliot clearly seems to notice but doesn’t comment on it.

“Have they managed to reign in your impulse control?”

“I’ll have you know that most of my lack of impulse is related to the fact I was twelve when I graduated and sixteen when you last saw me.” Spencer notably doesn’t look at Eliot, having averted his gaze.

“Spencer what’s with the look?” Eliot pushed. 

“I may have gotten a reputation for removing my vest.” Spencer runs his spoon around the edge of the bowl. Eliot lets out a noise of pure disbelief as he moves over to flick Spencer’s forehead. 

“You’re an overconfident idiot but I’m glad you haven’t changed.” Eliot grinned. 

“I'm as confident in my abilities as I should be.” Spencer scowls, rubbing the sore spot. 

“What? Did you do magic on a killer?” Eliot joked. 

“I might’ve, but he was a hostage taker and suffering from delusions.” 

“You’re kidding me.” Eliot lets out a laugh. 

“Why does nobody trust me in these scenarios!” Spencer says slightly aghast. “My sleight of hand got me through college! A microchip wasn’t the worst thing to attempt to pull out of thin air.”

“Parker would love you.” Eliot slumped back in his chair as he stared at Spencer amazed.

“I find that information concerning.” Spencer said flatly.

There was a faint ringing coming from the coffee table, forcing Spencer to glance up from his chair. “ Christ .” Eliot flipped open his phone and scowled as he looked at the number. He set the phone down and let it continue ringing. 

“Is there an issue?” Spencer from his seat raised a brow, setting his book to the side as he studied Eliot. He simply continued to glare at the phone until it finished, and another minute before finally snapping it shut.

“No.” Eliot sighed, tossing his phone onto the coffee table. Spencer let out a small laugh, picking up his book and setting it in a small pile by his chair. He moved to the couch near where Eliot stood.

“So, your current job. You never exactly told me what you do.” Spencer leant back as he adjusted his glasses. 

“Kinda hoped I wouldn’t have to talk about it.” Eliot rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Are you scared to confess your crimes to a federal agent?” Spencer gave him a grin. “I can assure you this conversation isn’t being recorded.” He made a sweeping gesture to the rest of his apartment, to the piles of books and knick knacks that Eliot had become acquainted with.

“Just don’t think you’ll get it.” Eliot shrugged. 

“Eliot it doesn’t matter if I don’t get it or not, I- I want to learn things about you.” Spencer laughed. “Sure I’ve poked around in governmental files and gotten some word of mouth, but I want to learn things from you.” Spencer’s gaze softened slightly as he gestured to the open seat beside him. “I want to learn .” 

“If you’re sure.” Eliot let out a small laugh as he settled onto the couch. 

“What do you do?” Spencer leant forward. 

“We help people.” Eliot stated simply, making a small gesture with his hands. 

“With crime?” Spencer pushed, scanning Eliot’s face for tells. 

“Eh, sometimes, bit of undercover work, a bit of theft.” Eliot snorted. 

“The same things we did in highschool?” Spencer cracked a grin as Eliot rolled his eyes. 

“That’s pushing it.” Eliot gave Spencer a pointed look that he shrugged off. Spencer pressed forward, an instinctive curiosity pulled at him.

“So you’re their hitter.” 

“I’ve filled other roles.” 

“So, your cases.” 

“Is this an interrogation?” Eliot raised a brow at him, Spencer opened his mouth to counter it only for Eliot’s burner to begin ringing again. Spencer glanced at it before he made a move to grab it. “Leave it.” Spencer froze as Eliot lightly grabbed his wrist, his hand wrapping around the cuff of Spencer’s sleeve. 

“Are you sure?” Spencer raised a brow as Eliot quickly let him go. Spencer’s hand hovered there for a moment before retreating back to his lap. 

“It’s Hardison, he can figure it out.” Eliot ran a hand through his hair. Spencer’s brows furrowed slightly as he scanned Eliot’s face. 

“You’re dodging my questions.” Spencer accused.

“I don’t want to tell you the details!” Eliot threw up his hands in defence.

“ You? You used to brag about the smallest things!” Spencer scoffed, crossing his arms. “ I bet you blew your cover. ” Spencer lightly coughed into his hand, but kept his voice barely loud enough for Eliot to hear. 

“ What did you say? ”

“Nothing!” Spencer held his hands up in a position meant to calm him, it might’ve even worked if not for the fact that a smile had already snaked onto his features. 

“ You- ” Eliot hissed out. 

“Then tell me a case! Prove me wrong .” Spencer smirked, a little too smug for someone in grabbing range. 

“This is coercion.” Eliot crossed his arms and tried to force a glare only for it to die as he locked eyes with Spencer. “ Fine , you dick.” Eliot ran a hand through his hair as he settled into the couch, beside Spencer. “ Uh - we did a case during a trial.”

“What, did you rig it?” Spencer’s eyes lit up. 

“You wanted to hear a case, let me tell you about a case.” Eliot gave Spencer a look, forcing him to settle. “It- it all happened by accident, Parker nearly got me decapitated on our last job, she had a nasty habit of not thinking about us.” Eliot winced at the thought. “Turns out Hardison’s covers were a little too well made. Parker ended up getting jury duty.” 

“Oh- that -” Spencer visibly recoiled. 

“Yeah.” Eliot chuckled to himself. “Nate thought it’d be a smart idea to get her to do it. It ended up being some conspiracy. The heiress or something had already bought out the company being sued, since she didn’t want daddy catching on to the fact she’d done this without his permission she needed to make sure that the case went in her favour.”

“Fascinating.” Spencer rested his chin in his palm. 

“She engineered the whole thing, had it set up like some chess game. You would’ve loved it.” Eliot pauses, thinking over what he just said before looking over Spencer. He shrugs and continues. “Parker caught on while on the jury and we decided to win the case for the little guy. Now -” Eliot adjusted his position on the couch. “Originally we wanted them to just settle, so we had Sophie go in as another company to try and broker a deal.”

“The heiress wanted to keep control so she bought the competition.” 

“Yeah! Then she starts buying off people in the case, she’d already gotten her hands on the jury foreman, so we had to get rid of him.”

“She’d move onto bigger targets, assuming she was already guiding her lawyer with the aim of personalised arguments to best sway the jury.” 

“We lost our lawyer, so we had to put in Hardison. We were still betting on the buy out, but then we finally get the news that she bought our company.” 

“So you have to win the trial.” 

“We had to win the trial.” Eliot let a small smile cross his face before he continued recounting his tale. “Hardison was all mad about it. He’d just been buying time up until that point, but Nate said some stuff that got him going and he actually won it!” 

“So what exactly was your role in all this?” Spencer asked. 

“Well we weren’t exactly going to just let our marks go.” Eliot made a small gesture with his hands as he continued. “I took care of the guys working as the tail for our company man so that Sophie could make it look like he was shopping around. Heiress hears word and makes sure he signs before the trial ends thinking that she’s won.”

“When he goes down, she goes down with him.” 

“That’s how it went.” Eliot chuckled lightly. 

“See now was that so-” A piercing ring cuts Spencer off, immediately he covered his ears. “ Phone .” Spencer bit out, picking it up and holding it as far away from himself as possible in an attempt to avoid being deafened. 

“ Shit .” Eliot looked near murderous as he snatched his phone out of Spencer’s hand. “Shoulda known Hardison would stoop to changing my ringtone.”  He held up a hand to keep Spencer in place as he finally spoke “ What do you want. Because I think we agreed that I’m meant to be-” 

“ Hardison, did what?! ” Eliot barked out, his eye twitching. Quickly he drifted away from Spencer, situating himself in the corner of the room. “We are down a hitter and a grifter , and he decides to play caped crusader on a solo gig and get you to call me up when things get out of hand.” Eliot pinched the bridge of his nose. “Get Parker in there. I’ve taught her enough to handle getting him out of there without too big of a problem.” Eliot sighed. “Tell Hardison that I’m going to rip out his lungs when I get back.” 

There was a beat as Eliot just listened, mostly annoyed, a little more pissed and for a moment, a genuine flash of concern that was quickly covered by further aggression. 

“Yeah, no- I get it , Nate. I just-” Eliot spared a glance to Spencer over his shoulder. “Give me a few more days and I’ll be back and tell Hardison to watch his back because I- christ.” Eliot wiped a hand over his face as he flipped his phone shut. 

“Your team needs you.” Spencer said softly.

“Yeah.” Eliot let out a sigh, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

“You should go.” Spencer says with a shrug. Eliot’s face contorts, looking at Spencer as if he were insane. 

“What, no - and leave you alone?” 

“Eliot, you’ve already agreed to leave within a week.” Spencer stated flatly. “You’ve been dodging calls ever since you’ve gotten here. It’s not like they’re going to stop needing you, much less stop calling.” 

There was a moment of pause before something flickered across Eliot’s face. He turned to Spencer and tried to sell him. “What if you come to Boston?” Spencer blinked at him, trying to make sure that Eliot was completely serious. 

“You’re joking? I’m not good at picking up jokes, but you have to be joking.” Spencer scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“You’ve still got another month of leave and you’re going to be restless.” Eliot tried to reason.

“So you’d be hiding me from your team the entire rest of the time I’m on leave.” 

“No I’d-” Eliot pauses the thought, cutting himself off. Spencer lets out a short laugh. “I’d introduce you to my crew.” Spencer fell silent for a moment staring at Eliot with a look of defeat.

“How exactly would bringing a federal agent into a den of thieves go?” Spencer pushed as Eliot raked a hand through his hair, pacing around the couch. 

“We’re in need of a new grifter, you could make it work.” Eliot says suddenly, stopping in his tracks. 

“Eliot.” 

“You’re a profiler- you wouldn’t have any real trouble with it.” He continues. 

“ Eliot. ”

“We’ve robbed a place before.” Eliot pushed. 

“That doesn’t give you valuable information, given I was a teenager and was using the money to pay my college debt.” Spencer said flatly. 

“You engineered a heist.” Eliot counters. Spencer opens his mouth to attempt a retort but falters, his mouth falling shut. 

“That does actually lend credence to your argument and I despise that.” He crossed his arms and leant back in his seat. 

“Look, Spencer. You want to work. Knowing you, you’d even forge your own bill of health to get back to profiling. This could be a break. You get to flex your brain muscles and do profiling on the less deadly side of things.” Eliot looks at him the way that he did when they were kids. Spencer’s gaze softens and he turns over the offer in his mind. 

He’d be away from Quantico, away from the ever taunting presence of work- of his team. He wouldn’t exactly be pushing himself- he might even call it a vacation. And Eliot… he’d have time to actually get to know him again. 

Spencer debates it for less time than he’d like. 

“How would this work?” He asked hesitantly, his voice low. 

“We’ll build you a cover-” Eliot started but Spencer was quick to cut him off, a spiralling number of possibilities and flaws rush to the forefront of his mind. 

“I don’t have time or resources needed for a cover of that quality.” Even back in the nineties when Spencer had been in practice making false ID’s for college roommates and set up aliases for himself, his weakest would need weeks if not months of prep work. Spencer had been out of the game far longer than he’d been in it. 

“You don’t need to, you’re going to be part of a case.” Eliot states and Spencer stares at him bewildered.

“Part of- you don’t lie to your team.” Spencer stated flatly. “Not on something like this.” There’s a look that crosses Eliot’s face, a flicker of pain but it quickly passes as he lets out a sigh.

“How else would we do it?” Eliot bit out, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no real way to go, meet my buddy. Yeah he graduated from highschool at twelve, got several doctorates before he was twenty and then oh yeah , he became one of the youngest FBI agents . I’m sure that’d go great Spencer.” Spencer let out a sigh wiping a hand over his face. 

As much as Spencer would hate to admit it Eliot was right. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most well known figure, but he was still known . It would flag in any background checks and Spencer wouldn’t have enough time to properly cover his tracks. 

“It seems like we don’t have much of a choice.” Spencer sighed. 

“Look, would it make it better if we called my old grifter.” Eliot offers “It’s not like Nate can find out about this anyways.”  

“It would help.” Spencer says after a moment.

“Give me a minute.” He took a deep breath in, picking up his and dialling a number. “Sophie, it’s Eliot.” There was a beat before he set the phone to speaker, setting it down on the table between them. 

“Oh! Eliot! I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon, have you or Nate managed to land yourself in hot water again or did you just want to hear my lovely voice.” 

“No uh, somethin’ else entirely.” There was a pause as Eliot looked over at Spencer. “I think I might’ve found us a new grifter.” Spencer restrained a comment, simply crossing his arms and raising a brow. 

“A new grifter? I thought you were doing so well without me?” Eliot let out a long suffering sigh as he seemed to glare at the phone set on the table. 

“You saw how well our last job went.” A look passed over Eliot’s face as Sophie laughed. Her laughter was soft, almost musical, until she sighed and her tone shifted to something more hesitant. 

“But a new grifter, Eliot? Isn’t that a little soon to just be picking any smooth talker up off the street?” Eliot’s eye twitched at the comment. 

“I didn’t pick him up off the street- ” Eliot sharply cut himself off, taking a breath in as he spared another glance at Spencer. “He’s a buddy of mine.”

“Drinking buddy? Mob type? An army man ? You can’t just tease me like this.”

“We can settle for close friends.” Spencer spoke before Eliot had a chance to. “Eliot and I knew each other before he joined the army.”

“My, how charming .” Spencer could almost feel as the woman on the other end lit up. He would’ve smiled if not for the fact that Eliot had been glaring him down. “Eliot, you have a friend? And you haven’t introduced us?” 

“I’ve introduced you to my friends, I’ve introduced you to alot of my friends!” Eliot attempted to defend himself as Spencer stifled his laughter. 

“Yes, but none of them have known you from before. That makes him interesting.” Spencer froze as Eliot ground his teeth. “Oh the stories he could tell!”

“He’s not telling you anything.” Eliot turned, pointing a finger at Spencer who preemptively raised his hands in defence. “You’re not telling her anything.”

“Tch, he can tell me later. Come now, introduce us.” Eliot made a noise of frustration before finally relenting

“Spencer, this is Sophie. ” Eliot stressed her name in a way that Spencer couldn’t completely identify. “Spencer, you’re going to be her replacement, she’s one of the best in the game.”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves, while the flattery is very appreciated, I need to approve of him first.” Her tone had cooled significantly. Eliot quickly shot Spencer a look to which he held up a hand to stop him from intervening. “That’s why you called, didn't you? For my blessing?”

“That’s not- you know what! Fine. It’s an interview.” Eliot threw up his hands in defeat, pacing away from the table. 

“Spencer darling, what exactly is it that you do?” She purred and alarms immediately went off inside Spencer’s head. He was set on edge but forced himself to steady his voice despite the growing shakiness of his hands. 

“I’d prefer not to say, wouldn’t want it to cloud your judgement.” He said, his tone flat. 

“Of course, we wouldn’t want that. Do you have a specialty? Something you’re talented in?” He could practically hear her smile across the line. 

“I’m well acquainted with the basics, I’ve been told I’m rather keen at reading marks.” Spencer forced himself to smile. 

“Oh so you profile, how quaint.” He took a deep breath in as he fell into familiar territory. 

“I’m a fan of psychology.” 

“Don’t bandy that one about near Nate he’ll ask you far too many questions.” Sophie laughs before diving straight back into questioning him. “Your mark is about to be pulled into someone else’s scheme, be it their company or otherwise. What do you do?”

“How important is the mark, am I able to pivot to anyone close to them?” Spencer tapped his fingers along the edge of the table. 

“The entire con is built around the mark, its far too late to try and target anyone else.” Spencer took a breath in, working his jaw. 

“I aim to please, I start slipping in suggestions that the other party will only cause harm to our total cause. I cement myself as their only confidant while the people around them turn on them.” Spencer pressed his hands flat on the table, leaning over the table so he could centre his focus on the phone and not the looming presence of his friend behind him.“For good measure I begin spreading doubt between their underlings, losing a support network and creating a shaky foundation. I become the mark’s angel.” 

“Fascinating.” She hummed, her judgement light. “Not sure if that’s what I would’ve done but it’s smart. I’m sure you could pull it off.” 

“Thankyou.” 

“Now we can dance around the topic for as long as we want but I want something to really chew on Spencer.” A chill ran down Spencer’s spine. “Tell me about a job you’ve done.”

There was a pause as Spencer debated what to say. He wasn’t exactly a well known name- he barely had a name, let alone a proper reputation. Spencer was never an Eliot, his crimes were small and barely noticeable, any grifts he’d done had been under a badge. He didn’t like being known, so Spencer was stuck. 

He shot a look to Eliot, he clearly was just as aware of the situation as Spencer was. His gaze softened as he attempted to comfort Spencer, but all he did was sigh. Silently he signalled a date, August seventh. There was a look of murder in his eyes, and for a moment Spencer thought he might vault the table to tackle him. 

Instead Spencer grabbed the phone, held it in the air as he quickly moved away from the man and spoke. 

“In 1998 Eliot and I robbed the Frost Casino.”

Spencer is fifteen and nothing short of overstimulated. He’d been to casinos before, he’d been to alot of them, but never as a customer- customer wouldn’t exactly be the right term. Not when he and Eliot were about to rob them blind. 

The lights are bright enough that for a second when he’d entered he’d thought he’d been blinded, the constant ringing was on the verge of setting off his tinnitus and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol and sweat. He does his best not to stumble, clinging tight to the older teen as he attempted to guide them deeper into the belly of the beast. 

Spencer still wasn’t completely used to the added height that the shoe lifts gave him, or the feeling of the contacts he’d bought only a few days earlier. Eliot, eighteen and matching his height, looked down at him with a raised brow. 

“You sure you can do this?” Spencer bristled slightly, straightening out himself and one of his father’s old suits. He restrained the urge to scowl as he fidgeted with his tie, instead he pushed himself off Eliot in a somewhat failed attempt to look more confident. 

“I’ll be fine .” He pressed on his best smile, like his tie it was incredibly crooked.

“Whatever you say.” Eliot let out a sigh as he looked Spencer over, he tugged Spencer to him by his sleeve and straightened him out properly.  “At least try to sell it man.” He huffed as Spencer finally managed to bat him away. 

“I’m sorry that I don’t know how to tie a tie .” Spencer bit out. “Does it really matter that much? Looking half drunk at the table draws attention.” 

“You’re a half-pint and got permanent baby face. They’re not going to buy drunk .” Eliot scoffed. 

“ Fine . Do you remember the meet up location?” Spencer huffed out as he brushed himself off. 

“And I already have it stashed.” Spencer took a deep breath in nodding to himself before Eliot chuckled and ruffled the teens hair. “Don’t blow it kid.” 

“Don’t get caught.” Spencer quickly fixed his hair and parted ways with his accomplice. 

Spencer had spent the previous weeks casing the gambling floor, and he had made himself obvious . The tables were expansive, seating at least eight, not counting their shadows and gawkers. He’d lurked not playing a game but noting the patterns in the dealers, seeing frequent players and in particular clocking the high rollers. 

Spencer glanced to the ceiling, noting the cameras. There were at least two per table, monitored by the security team on the fourth floor with comms being linked to the floor staff lingering on the edges of the floor. Spencer blinked, moving into the crowd of patrons, looking for plain clothes guards. He wasn’t certain if there would be any, he hadn’t seen any before, but he didn’t want to push his luck. 

Spencer headed for his mark. A large Black Jack table sat on the edge of the room by the slots, just beneath four cameras and near two guards. He quickly lifted a wallet from a passing gambler and slipped out some cash. Spencer settled into the table, quickly adjusting his glasses and bought in. Card counting Black Jack was a surprisingly simple process, but that might’ve had something to do with the fact that Spencer was high off his new Mathematics PhD. 

Spencer briefly looked at his hand. It weighed well in comparison to the rest of the table. He bet high and tapped the frame of his glasses. He wasn’t exactly practised in hiding his tells, he hadn’t been able to gamble long enough to really learn. There was still the growing discomfort as he made his habitual gestures larger. 

He scanned the table. There were a few regulars he’d catalogued, big spenders, big losers, they weren’t subtle players. Spencer worked his jaw as he played his cards, beating the house. The house was currently sitting at an advantage, they’d already dealt out two Queens, ten and a nine, setting the count in the negatives. 

Spencer kept his bets low, he still needed to buy time to make sure that Eliot was in the clear. His focus was drawn to the man across from him, plain suit, black tie and glasses. Spencer hadn’t seen him in the casino before. Spencer went bust and took his next hand. The man’s tells were small and well disguised, rubbing circles in his cards, lightly tapping index to his temple. He didn’t seem focused on the table, barely seemed focused on the game. 

Spencer had to bite back a growing smile.

There was another counter at the table.

Their table was already being watched. 

The count was dipping in his favour. His eyes darted to the doors, there was no clear sign of security, pathways looked clear. Spencer took a deep breath, set his cards down and bet high . The man locked eyes with him, Spencer smiled as he took in his winnings. There was a flare of alarm as recognition crossed his face. 

Spencer could feel the eyes on his back, it made his skin itch, but he continued playing. Reflexively he wanted to lower his bets, even out his winnings and keep the con running longer but he had to remind himself that that wasn’t the reason why he was here. He rolled a chip in his hand, it was tempting.

“Sir.” A hand was rested on his shoulder and Spencer’s breath hitched, his thought rushing to a halt. Bile rose up his throat and his heart pounded violently against his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut as slowly he stood, getting off his seat. He side eyed the security, squared his shoulders and steadied his stance. 

“I’m sorry, I- I think you have the wrong person.” Spencer said, blinking up at the guard slightly out of breath. His eyes darted about as he started lightly tugging his arm against the grip of the man looming over him. He’d drawn about three of the floor security by the time he’d 

“Sir, would you come with us.” His tone hinted at aggression, his grip tightening on Spencer’s arm. Spencer took a deep breath in and began fiddling with his suit jacket buttons.

Spencer’s voice grew louder, drawing quite a crowd. He was on the verge of shouting, “Now I really think-” Spencer slammed his foot into the man’s ankle, harming him just enough to loosen his grip and give Spencer the chance to run. 

Spencer bolted, quickly losing his lifts and shrinking just enough to be able to dive through the crowd without issue. He lost his jacket as he weaved through the rows of slot machines and tossed it on the open seat. He was more hesitant with his glasses holding them for just a moment before he dunked them in a man’s drink. 

Spencer slowed, mussed his hair slightly and straightened his back. He pulled out a keycard and with a stiff smile Spencer made his way to the employee hallway. He kept his head down and ditched it in the nearest bag he saw. Passing a quick glance down the halls he pushed his way into the emergency exit and flew up the stairs. 

Frost’s casino wasn’t built for safety. It was made to make money, and while that would cause issues during a fire it made a convenient hideout for any underage criminals. Spencer stumbled onto the seventh floor, heaving in a breath. 

"Here I thought you'd be dead by now." If not for the fact that Spencer was hunched over desperately trying to catch his breath, he would've attempted to flip Eliot off. 

"I have enough experience running from you -" Spencer sucked in another heavy breath. "To not have to worry about getting caught." 

"Is that a thankyou?" 

"It's a thankyou when you replace my glasses." Spencer sneered as he went to where he stashed their bag. Spencer stared at it, suddenly remembering that Eliot , had been the one to really hide it. Eliot bit back a laugh as Spencer attempted to tug at it. He let it go on for a few minutes before he stepped in. 

"I'll buy you a pair when it's over."

“Thankyou .” Spencer bit out as Eliot tossed him the duffel. 

“What was that? Because I don’t think I heard it-” Eliot grinned while Spencer’s upper lip curled. 

“Eliot we have exactly seventeen minutes and forty six seconds left until we’re in the red, we don’t have time to waste.” Spencer glared at him to which Eliot only snorted. 

“Fine, lead the way.” Eliot scoffed as he flicked his sunglasses on.

“Stay a few steps behind me and keep your glasses on.” Slowly Spencer pushed the exit door open, peering out into empty corporate halls far away from the blinking lights and alcohol. He stepped out beckoning Eliot to follow. 

Eliot, as instructed, stayed two steps behind, only closing the distance as they reached the glass doors of the reception. Spencer slowly opened them, wearing a weak smile. The room was small, sitting only an old wooden desk, two chairs and a plastic plant. 

“I’m here to get fired.” Spencer sighed as he raked a hand through his hair, briefly showing off his ID to the woman at the desk. She gave a sympathetic wince, making a move for the phone that sat neatly on her desk. 

“I’ll call Mr Frost for you.” Spencer visibly grew pale, he cast a glance to Eliot who stood, arms crossed by the door. He took a small step towards her. 

“Sorry- it’s just with the escort .” Spencer leaned in, lowering his voice. “I don’t want to cause any trouble- sorry .” Spencer shot a strained look at Eliot, giving a small wave asking for just a moment longer. “He already knows I’m coming and he didn’t like how long it took for us to get up here so would you mind just-” 

“Of course.” She nodded lightly motioning towards the door as she gave him a soft smile. “I hope it goes well.” 

“You know how it is with Mr Frost.” Spencer shrugged as Eliot headed to the door motioning for Spencer to follow. He gently shut the door behind them before making a beeline down the hallway, Eliot in tow. 

“How much time?” Eliot threw a glance over his shoulder, checking to see if they were being tailed. 

“We’re ahead of schedule, we should have ten minutes clear if I can get us through without issue.” Spencer slowed as they reached a row of doors, straightening out his shirt. “There should only be one guard finishing his round about now, if we’re lucky they’ll already have finished it.” 

Carefully Spencer guided them through the maze of hallways, deeper into the building. The maze-like hallways were eerily empty. Rows of bright blue walls and locked, dark wooden doors, seemingly spanning forever onwards. Silently Spencer hoped the map he’d mad was accurate, it was a thought that he never voiced to Eliot. 

“What are you doing here?” A voice shouted from behind them. Spencer froze before slowly turning. He pressed on a fake smile, holding up his hands. 

“I’m here to see Mr Frost.” Spencer said slowly, taking a half step backwards and towards Eliot.

“Mr Frost’s not here at the moment.” The guard’s eyes narrowed and Spencer swallowed. 

“I was told to wait in his office- I can always call him if you-” Spencer attempted to reason as he desperately searched for an escape. 

“Mr Frost left an hour ago.” The guard stepped forward, encroaching on Spencer’s space, his hand drifting to the holster on his hip.

“Eliot!” Spencer barked out.

“ Already on it .” Eliot pulled Spencer back by the collar, stepping between the two and landing a solid hit to the man’s jaw. Spencer had already started running by the time that the man had gone down. Eliot was barely able to catch up by the time they’d reached Frost’s office. Spencer slammed into the door, stumbling into the room. 

The office was far more expansive than either of them had been expecting. The room was large and painted a deep teal, a large oak desk rested just in front of the open window. Eliot was quick to shut and barricade the heavy wooden doors, he didn't have much to work with, settling for the chair Spencer had pulled out as he’d begun rifling through the desk. 

Blood was rushing in Spencer’s ears as he pulled out drawer after drawer, there was some loose cash but nothing near close to substantial. That wasn’t what Spencer was after. He traced his fingers along the edges of the frame and then along the soft fabric that lined the bottom. Eliot shot him a look that quickly turned into a full stare, “What the hell are you doing?!” Spencer barely looked up from his disaster zone to respond. 

“I’m looking for a key.” Eliot stood still for a moment as the clutter around Spencer grew. He was currently on his knees feeling around the rest of the desk before returning to discarded drawers, quickly skimming through papers and tucking a few away in the duffel bag he’d laid atop the remains. 

“Spencer, you’re meant to be looking for a safe. ” 

“I’m not just looking for a safe , I’m trying to find files- paper trails.” 

“You’re trying to find blackmail -” Eliot let out a laugh of annoyance as he dragged a side table across the room. “Spencer, we’re here for the money.” 

“We’re already looting the place, getting some files won’t affect our timeframe and -” Spencer used his spare hand to gesture at the older teen.  “You’ve failed to consider the fact that we’d need to actually get to it, given I highly doubt this casino keeps safes out in the open . Thusly key.” 

“ Fine .” Eliot bit out as he braced his back against the door, steading himself as it bulged from the weight of security pounding against it. “A chair and spite won’t hold the door shut forever.” Slipping a hand beneath the lining Spencer was finally able to hit something small and metal.  

The key slid neatly into his palm, quickly he pocketed it as he finally began casing the room. It couldn’t be built into the walls, they were far too thin based upon the blueprints Spencer had seen and from sounds of very audible shouting from the otherside he could be pretty sure that they weren’t inaccurate. His eyes flitted across the room until they settled on the bar. 

Spencer was so dense . 

Spencer bolted for it just as the door burst open. Eliot staggered backwards from the force, the door splintered

Spencer’s heart dropped when he opened the final cabinet. The safe sat neatly behind two bottles of expensive scotch. He swore underneath his breath as he tugged the key out from his pocket and shoved it into the upper lock. “Eliot we have a problem!” 

“ You think?! ” Eliot was doing his best to beat back the swarm of oncoming security, he was barely able to stem the flow through the remains of the barricade, only letting through one or two men at a time and with a rate that Eliot was going at them there wasn’t enough of a chance for them to move it.

“I didn’t prepare for keypad combinations. I- I only prepared for standard tumbler locks.” Frantically he ran a hand along the safe, looking for any other things he may not be prepared for. It was a newer model, one released earlier that year. It appeared standard, presumably three bolts, key lock and the problem, the digital number combination.

“That’s-” Eliot took a heaving breath in, channelling his stress and anger to the next man who came through his door. “ Just great! How long is it going to take you?!” Spencer ran a hand through his hair as he stared at the numbers. 

It would take hours to go through every potential combination of a ten number, six digit long combination. They’d already had to cut down on their planned time since they had to brute force their way to the office. That’s fine . Spencer could already begin ruling out possibilities. It was long enough for dates but with the amount of security and the impersonality of the room it was highly unlikely to be a birthday.  

“Buy me five minutes.” Spencer bit out, creating a makeshift barricade from desk drawers and barstools. He scanned the room again, this time slower. He had to restart several times, his gaze getting blocked by the growing fight in the entryway. 

“ You’re really pushing it! ” Eliot was finally able to beat enough back to get their barricade back in place, leaving only three conscious guards in the room. He rolled his shoulders, shaking out his hands and launched into another brawl. 

Theoretically Spencer could go through all the potential codes he’d been left with without any real penalty but that wouldn’t save time . 

"I am not -" Eliot took another wild swing, managing to hit one of the security guards hard enough to make him stagger. "A trained fighter Spencer! So could you hurry this along!" 

"I'm doing equations in my head. " Spencer hissed out, crouching over the keypad. His fingers ghosting over the numbers. 

"Well, do them faster!" The first man finally fell to the ground, giving Eliot a moment of reprieve before getting charged by the other guards.

"Are you the one with the PhD in Mathematics?! No! Let me do my job!" What would be the most likely date?! 

"I got straight A's in calculus, I'm sure I can do it faster than this ." Eliot said as he dodged another swing, only for his arm to be grabbed by the man behind him and tugged. Eliot let out a pained gasp but pushed on, slamming his forehead into the man’s nose. 

"That's because I did your homework for you!" Spencer spat out, he grasped at the nearest object, settling on the expensive scotch. He ducked out and threw it, mostly aiming at Eliot, but his shot went wide instead hitting a guard in the head. The glass shattered on impact. 

Spencer froze, a deer in headlights. He stared at the man as he slowly turned, his attention now on Spencer. Blood trailed down his face and Spencer was faced with a growing sense of dread. He made a move towards the bar, but it was enough to cross Eliot’s line of sight. Eliot landed a hit square to the man’s jaw, knocking him down.

“ Thanks. ” Eliot stared Spencer down panting. 

“You’re welcome?” Spencer squeaked out. 

“Focus on the keypad!” Eliot barked out as a guard grabbed onto Eliot’s shirt, quickly Spencer. dove back down behind the bar.  

He flexed his hands, staring at the numbers. It was most likely a date, and wouldn't relate to things  such as births or deaths. Frost was a man who held no care for ties familial or otherwise, he was in it for the profit. He was inherently selfish. 

Spencer heard a crash as a man was slammed into glass. 

The date of a notable game or establishing of the brand in the wider market wouldn’t be personal enough as it would be far too disconnected from the man himself. Spencer and Eliot were currently at the larger secondary casino built years after the original, but far more popular. It was the second casino. 

The founding of the first casino.

[19/06/78]

There was a loud click as the locks released and the door of the safe 

"I've got it!" Spencer let out a hysterical laugh. He shovelled wads of cash into their duffel bags, stuffing as much as he could reasonably carry in. Then Spencer hesitated. Inside a sealed bag were records, off the books accounting if Spencer were to make any assumptions on it. 

This was what he’d been after . 

Carefully he reached in and pulled it out, casting a glance towards Eliot who was staggering away from the last of the fight. He tucked it deep inside his bag and lept up. 

" Finally! " Eliot practically dove for the exit, almost tripping over the pile of bodies he left behind him. He held his right arm tight to him, throwing his balance off just enough for Spencer to be faster than him. 

"You've dislocated your shoulder." Spencer stated flatly, shoving the door open so Eliot could go through first. 

"Thanks, Einstein. I can tell." Eliot spat out. 

"Do you want me to-" Spencer started, reaching towards Eliot as he adjusted the duffel bag on his shoulder. Eliot quickly shot him down with a glare. 

"Touch me and I break your ribs." 

"Fine then." Spencer huffed, before Spencer looked him up and down, his demeanor softening slightly. Eliot was beat to hell. "You know I've dealt with more of those than you have. I know how to treat it." 

"I don't want to think about that right now, right now you should be more worried about how we're getting out of here." Quickly they turned a corner stumbling down a flight of stairs. Spencer thought over his mental map as he attempted to forge a path. Spencer staggered to a halt, pulling on Eliot's uninjured arm as they reached a fire exit.

 "Do you think you can drive?" There was a disgruntled stare that Spencer took as a yes. "I know how to hotwire a car." 

"Where the hell did you learn that?!" 

"A book. And an engineering student- would it be fast enough?" Spencer looked over his shoulder and up the stairs. They wouldn't have much time, with the current rate they'd been working at they were only a few minutes ahead of the security team. 

"We might as well try it." Eliot shrugged holding the door open for Spencer. 

They stormed onto the parking lot and Spencer scanned over the cars, searching for an older model. In the middle of the parking lot was their saving grace, a sixty nine black Chevy Impala. Spencer made a beeline for it, pulling Eliot along by his uninjured arm. 

Spencer felt around the duffel bag fumbling through the wads of cash and paper until he could finally pull out his slim jim. He pulled it out and inserted it into the door much to Eliot’s alarm. 

“Do you just carry that around with you?!” Eliot looked Spencer up and down as Spencer waved him off. 

“ Yes !” There was a satisfying click as it was able to catch the lock. Spencer pulled the door open and stepped in, settling into the driver's seat and setting his focus on the driver’s column. “I can’t legally drive, I make do!” 

Spencer was lucky enough that he could 

“Knife!” Spencer held out his hand as he glanced over his shoulder, they were barely out of sight of the flood of guards. 

“Why do you think I have a knife?!” Spencer stared at Eliot, his eye twitching as Spencer motioned to the bundle of wires in front of him. With a noise of annoyance Eliot pulled out a thin knife from his boot and gave it to Spencer. “ Fine! ” 

“How much longer because I can hear them coming.” Eliot pressed his back into the back door of the car, throwing a look over the car before taking a glance back at Spencer to check his progress. “I can’t fight them, Spence.” 

“Just- just another minute.” Starter was yellow, battery was red- but ignition, he still needed to find the ignition. It was fine, he could work with this. He took a deep breath in and searched his memory. He’d looked over manuals out of sheer habit, he must’ve seen it.

It’s a sixty nine Chevy Impala. Spencer squeezed his eyes shut. It was hard to focus. There was shouting, they were about to be spotted. 

Green . 

It sparked. The engine revved. 

“It’s on!” Spencer laughed as Eliot shoved him out of the way. 

“Get in the back!” Spencer threw himself and the duffel into the back barely able to get below the window when a shot was fired off. 

“Drive!” Spencer shouted as he nearly slammed into the back of Eliot’s seat. 

Spencer quickly broke into hysterical laughter beneath the echo of gunfire. He choked, falling onto his back as Eliot managed to get them out of there. 

They were home free. 

The laughter from the backseat slowly died down, eventually Spencer is just laying there, tired, overwhelmed and cradling a duffel bag filled with secrets and cash tight to his chest. Spencer takes off his glasses and wipes his eyes. He looks into the mirror, seeing barely enough of Eliot's face to cement that they really had done it. That he was really there with him.

"Are you still going to join the army?" Spencer said softly. 

"Yeah." It took a moment for Eliot to respond, it was long enough for Spencer to choke. 

"I mean with all the money we have-" 

"Was this all your attempt to try and get me to stay?" Eliot laughs as he makes a turn. 

"I mean I- I needed the money to pay my tution but-" Spencer sucked in a breath. "but I thought it might make a difference." The atmosphere of the car cooled. Spencer held the bag tighter. 

"Look kid- this isn't about the money." Eliot sighed. "I want to do something with myself. I want to serve my country." 

"You can do other things-" Spencer grew pale and attempted to reason with him, pushing the bag to the side and sitting up.

"It wouldn't be the same." Eliot wiped a hand over his face before casting a quick glance into the rearview mirror to look at Spencer. "This is what I want to do kid, I'm not leaving I'm just... doing something else." Eliot let out a sigh, tapping the steering wheel. "You know how to contact me anyways." 

"What if you don't pick up?" Spencer’s gaze shifted to the floor.

"I will." Eliot said with such certainty. " But if I don't, I'll show up at your door. I'll break it down it I have to." Spencer choked back a snort. 

"That's a little extreme." Spencer said as he wiped away tears. 

"What- you think i'll just- just leave you hanging? You'd be dead by then." Eliot laughed. 

“Maybe.”

“Well at the very least you have experience.” Sophie lightly chuckled, her tone softened slightly. “But fifteen? Really? ” 

“I graduated early.” Spencer replied with a soft smile. Eliot cast him a glance from the corner of the room he’d banished himself to. 

“He’s an overachiever.” Eliot chuckled to himself, earning a look from Spencer. 

“You’ve managed to impress me.” For the first time in their conversation Sophie sounded completely earnest. “Now, Eliot darling, would you mind if I talked to you friend alone please, I need to clear up some details.” 

“I’m sure anything you can say to him you can say to me.” Eliot looked from Spencer to the phone, a glare forming. 

“Eliot, don’t be territorial. I’m sure our friend has enough time for both of us. Now go on, shoo.” 

“Don’t let her con you and- and- ” Eliot pointed a finger at Spencer as he made his way out of the room. “Tell me if she says anything hinky. She has a thing for those- those mind games .” He made a vague gesture before he slammed the door shut behind him, hard enough for it to rattle. Spencer carefully bit back a laugh as he picked up the phone. 

“Are we alone?” The woman’s tone was a bit colder, less relaxed, in a way it almost reminded him of Emily. Spencer waited a moment, eyeing the door before he answered. 

“Eliot’s left the room and you’re off speaker, but I doubt he’s any further than the door.” Spencer lowered his voice, walking to be as close to out of earshot as possible. 

“It’s the best we’ll get from him.” She gave a light laugh. “Now, Spencer, you’ve thrown quite a wrench in my plans. I was intending to bring on a good friend of mine as my replacement.” Spencer clicks his tongue, that was an issue. 

“You were planning on having her inform for you.”

“You do catch on quick.” Sophie hummed. “Yes, now our mastermind, he has a bit of a knack for going into tail spins, so…” 

“Now that you don’t have your friend on the inside you want me to watch him instead.” Spencer let out a hiss as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He was quite familiar with dealing with somewhat… odd leadership, but this was a completely different ballgame. Perhaps in a way he’d feel right at home.

“It’d be so much easier that way, Eliot already trusts you which means the rest of the team will be quick to follow, we’d all get what we want.” Sophie’s voice was thick with honey. 

Spencer let out a heavy sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “Keep your friend on call, I don’t know exactly how long I’d be able to keep myself on the gig.” 

“Oh? On the run are you?” She laughed, it felt as if he’d been dunked in ice water. 

“More like on leave.” Spencer said, rubbing his arms. 

“Military fellow?” Sophie pressed but Spencer quickly shot her down. 

“That’s between me and Eliot.” 

“Well, either way, you have my number.” 

“I’ll give you updates when I can Miss…?” Spencer shot a sparing glance to the door. 

“Deveraux, you can call me Sophie Deveraux.” Sophie offered.

“So I don’t get your real name?” Spencer pushed, grinning, fully aware he’d never get it.

“You know what they say about federal agents.” 

“Worth a shot, I’ll call when I get to Boston.” 

“Please do, I have high expectations of you Mr Spencer.” She said, before pausing. “Though I might suggest toning down the interrogation speak.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thankyou Sophie.” With a sigh Spencer set down Eliot’s phone. “You can come back in, Eliot.” Slowly the man pushed the door open, carefully looking Spencer over. 

“Did she break you or are we in the clear?” He asked with a raised brow. 

“She figured out I’m a suit.” Spencer sighed as he tossed Eliot back his phone. Eliot gave him a sympathetic wince. “At the very least she’s not going to let that information spread.” 

“Ah, she’s using you as a pawn.” 

“Informant.” Spencer tried to correct but Eliot simply shrugged him off. 

“Eh, same thing.”

“Do you need any help packing?” Spencer hesitantly offered but Eliot held his hand up to stop him.

“I’ve got it covered kid.” Eliot made his way towards the chair before he paused, reaching for his pants pocket, quickly pulling out a phone.  “Sorry- I’ve got to take this.” Eliot made a small apologetic gesture before his demeanour completely shifted. “ Hardison what the hell are you on . Yeah, I got a call from Nate, apparently you’re dumb enough to think breaking into a high security facility for a solo job would end well. You know what happened, Hardison? I’m coming back early, because of the stunt you pulled because we can’t be trusted to not pull something like that again.”

“Eliot, Eliot- Eliot -” Spencer could briefly hear as a man frantically shouted from the phone. 

“You’re dead Hardison- dead . Steer clear of me for a week when I get back, and then maybe we’ll talk.” Eliot snapped his phone shut and threw it in his duffel.

“Is that what you sounded like when you were scaring off bullies, or am I just imagining things?” Spencer rested his hand in his palm.

“Might’ve been similar.” Eliot shrugged, looking slightly smug. 

“Glad to see you haven’t gotten any more creative with your death threats.”

“Shut it or I might start directing some towards you.” Eliot pointed a finger at Spencer that he shrugged off. Eliot settled into the couch as Spencer pulled out a chair. 

“So this plan of ours. How’s going to work, I’m being brought in on case right?”

“Fly out a week or so after me, I’ll spend my free time setting up the basics of your cover.” 

“Our target?” Spencer asked with a raised brow.

“Had my eyes on some of the underground gambling rings that’ve been popping up. They’ve been preying on people, making sure they’re the types that can’t pay and roping them into crime.” Eliot explained. Spencer thought it over, it was familiar territory for the both of them, Spencer wouldn’t be pushed too hard for a cover. It was getting Eliot’s team in that was bothering him. 

“Will your team bite?” Spencer asks, for a moment Eliot looks over Spencer, judging him before he nods. 

“They’ll bite.” Eliot said as Spencer’s eyes narrowed. 

“What was that look for?” Spencer pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Nothing, just making sure you’ll fit in.” Eliot held his hands up in defence, a smirk growing on his face. 

“That concerns me Eliot!” 

In the end Eliot had to leave earlier than expected, much to his chagrin. They stood in Spencer’s doorway and for a moment his heart ached. Eliot leant against the doorframe bag in hand and Spencer stood opposite to him. 

“You know I could try to haggle for a few more days.” Eliot offered as he slung his bag over his shoulder.  

“Eliot, we saw how well that went when you were betting on a week.” Spencer chuckled as Eliot ran a hand through his hair. 

“Right.” He nodded as he wiped a hand over his face. 

“I’ll start packing the moment you leave.” 

“I’m counting on it.” Eliot laughed, lightly patting Spencer on the shoulder. “See you soon Spencer.” Spencer gave him a small wave and a weak smile, slowly shutting the door behind him.

He stood there for a moment, the world weighing down on him. It felt stupid , going all the way to Boston, to what- commit crime ? It was nearly laughable, but the rush . He’d nearly forgotten about it after years spent in libraries and working cases with Gideon. Catching people, it- it was similar but it was never the same as being chased . 

It was the time limits, the rush of information and sleight of hand. For a moment, Spencer was able to slip away from the world and become unknown. He could work out building layouts, crack safes, play with numbers and the only person on the line would be himself. 

Spencer took a deep breath in, slowly sitting down on his couch. Eliot coming back unearthed… feelings he’d suppressed so that he could keep himself in line. It was different now, they were different people. He bit back a smile. He could let himself have this.

Spencer slowly opened his phone and typed in a number. 

"Mistress of all knowledge, how may I grant your every wish?" Garcia purred through the phone. 

"Hi Garcia." Spencer fidgeted with his shirt collar. It felt strange just talking to her outside work. They'd been friends, they shared interests but whenever they were all together it was always Morgan doing the talking. 

"My darling boy wonder! It's been so long! What do you need, I'll get it to you, priorities be damned." She startled slightly but quickly returned to her usual demeanour. 

"I… just wanted to check in." Spencer tried to start, but at the least it got a laugh out of the woman. 

"Oh, if you wanted to check in you could always come to my lovely abode! I'm sure you could always sneak past the entrance." There was a beat where Spencer's heart ached. He fell silent, his spare hand drifting to one of his buttons. He twisted it as he organised his thoughts. 

"I was hoping you could extend my leave." Spencer could practically hear Garcia's gears turning. 

"Is everything alright?! I can come over now- it might just take a few minutes for me to get all my things settled but I will break down that door if I have to!" Spencer could hear the frantic clacking of keys and the sound of the wheels of her chair screeching as she spun herself towards the rest of her station. 

"No- no Garcia." Spencer was quick to cut her off her spiral. "No I uh- I got an invitation from an old friend. I wanted to take some time to... reconnect. I've been so caught up in work and- and my mom that I'd never gotten a chance to just... have a friend." His voice was somewhat sheepish. He wasn't lying to her but it was still enough to make his skin crawl. 

"Doctor Reid?! Actually taking time for himself?! Scandalous, how pretty is she to convince you of this?" 

" He- " Spencer let out a strangled noise.

"My question still stands!" Garcia laughed, Spencer let out a sigh as he quickly moved on. 

" I'm planning on heading to Boston. I- I don't want to be tempted to go back in before I'm ready- or at least evaluated properly. He's offered to let me stay until then." There was a pause on the other end of the line. His heart was thundering in his chest. 

"Of course I'll do it." Garcia said softly. "Anything for you Spencer." Spencer let a gentle smile creep onto his face. 

"And Garcia would you... would you mind keeping this away from the team?" He said and for a moment Garcia paused.

"Well of course my super genius, your secret is safe with me." Garcia cooed. "All I ask is that you keep me checked in and tell me all of the steamy details." Spencer blinked a flush creeping onto his face. 

" Garcia- " Spencer choked.

"Oh, fine, be all secretive." Garcia clicked her tongue, but her tone softened as she dropped the joke from her voice. "I love you boy wonder, talk to you soon. But please, just call me once or twice. I want to make sure you’re ok." 

"Talk to you soon, and I will. Promise." Spencer replied in kind. Spencer snapped his phone shut, looking at the door Eliot had just stepped out of. He let out a light chuckle. 

Spencer set his phone down on the table as he ran a hand through his hair. 

He’d need to start packing his bags.