Chapter Text
Their most recent case wrapped up just in time for the team to hop on the jet and return to Quantico. It was just after sunset when their technical analyst called demanding that they go out for a drink since it was a rare Friday night they would be home for.
Normally, if Spencer declined an invitation for a night out on the town, the team respected his decision. They knew he wasn't much of a partier and didn't enjoy the sticky tables or the loud crowds. Today, however, was different. It had been 35 days, 12 hours, and 34 minutes since (Y/N) left his apartment for the last time. When he told the team, he said the breakup had been mutual. Conflicting schedules, opposite interests, the usual excuses. Had he worked anywhere else, his colleagues would've accepted this and moved on. But he worked with a highly skilled team of profilers and was bad at lying, to boot.
After Hotch's family got caught in the cross-fire with George Foyet, his entire perspective on his personal life changed. He always thought it was something he could keep separate from his work. He compartmentalized. Until he saw his boss lay a white rose on his wife's casket at her funeral, he had been happy to pretend that chasing down and arresting psychopaths and serial killers would have no more ramifications than if he worked in a lab or for a private firm. But now he saw the grief swimming in Hotch's eyes, the confusion and pain on his son's face, and the illusion was shattered. If Hotch couldn't keep his family safe, what chance did Spencer have?
He still felt relatively secure regarding his mother's safety. Diana was under near constant supervision miles and miles away from him. He told himself that meant she was safe.
But when it came to his girlfriend, (Y/N), he told himself a different story entirely. Nightmares come with the job. He learned that soon after joining the team just like everyone else. After Haley's death, all Spencer could see in his nightmares was (Y/N)'s body in her place. Her blood on his hands, literally and figuratively.
A week after the funeral, he made his decision. If he couldn't keep her safe by keeping her close, he had to remove the target on her back entirely. She did not agree with this logic. The argument that ensued replayed on a loop every day since her back disappeared into the hallway of his building.
"(Y/N)... we need to talk," he started, turning to face her on his couch. She was snuggling up with one of his blankets while they both read quietly. It was one of their favorite things to do together. Would he be able to enjoy reading the same way after...this? She lifted her head and smiled at him.
"Sounds serious, am I in trouble?" God, this is going to be impossible, he thought to himself. Somehow, she had never looked more beautiful and he couldn't believe what he was about to do. He cleared his throat and prepared to give the speech he'd written and rewritten a thousand times.
"After wh-"
"Hold on, you have an eyelash." She reached over to gently brush the stray eyelash off his cheek, blowing on it gently to 'make a wish' as she'd once explained to him. She leaned back in her seat. "Ok, sorry, go on." He took a deep breath and started again.
"After what happened with Haley and Jack, I've been thinking. Hotch leads a whole team of experts, has near unlimited resources at his disposal, and he still couldn't keep them safe." He glanced up at her to gauge her reaction, to see if she already knew where he was going with this. Her smile faded in confusion as she waited for him to continue. "We deal with very bad, very scary people every day. A-and I couldn't forgive myself if...if something l-like that ever even came close to happening to you." He jumped a little when she reached out a grabbed his hands in his lap.
"Spencer, that's not gonna happen," she said quietly.
"You don't know that. Foyet was behind bars in a maximum security prison and he still managed to-"
"Spencer," she said lifting his chin so he had to meet her gaze. "I know this whole thing has been difficult for you and for your team, but you can't think like that."
"I have to! I can't turn my brain off, not when it's running a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how to keep you safe from what I do just so I can keep you in my life. Every scenario leads to the same conclusion and the common denominator is us being together, so-"
"So what? You want to break up?" When he didn't answer her, (Y/N) dropped his hands and stood up, pacing around the living room. Spencer stood with her but stayed planted in place.
"(Y/N), you have to understand, I'm doing this to protect you."
"Protect me? You think breaking up is going to protect me? Hotch and Haley had been separated - divorced - for ages when she was killed!"
"Foyet knew he still cared about her, about Jack!"
"Exactly! What, are you saying that because we're not married and we-we don't have a kid that the next lunatic is just going to assume you don't care about me anymore if you leave?!" Silence hung in the air between them. Her voice was softer when she spoke again. "Are you...are you using this mess as an excuse to dump me?"
"(Y/N)," he tried to interject. He didn't think she'd react this way and the more vitriol that laced her words, the more he felt his own heart start to crack.
"No - are you using the death of your friend's wife and some made up narrative about you needing to be all noble to leave me instead of just being honest?"
"Of course not! (Y/N), please listen to me, this is what's best for both of us." She scoffed at his words.
"Best for both of us or best for you? Because from where I'm standing, the most logical person I've ever met is bending over backwards trying to get out of confronting the truth of the matter."
"Okay, and what is 'the truth of the matter' then?" He was starting to get impatient. Why couldn't she just let him do this for her?
"Well, it's one of two things. One, you don't have feelings for me anymore and are too much of a coward to say so. Or two, you've convinced yourself that, despite the evidence to the contrary, the best way to protect the people you love is to push them away. Which is it, Spencer?" All he could do was sigh and look at her, urging her to understand by the look in his eyes what he couldn't verbalize.
"(Y/N), I'm sorry-" she cut him off by whipping around and grabbing her bag off the kitchen table, making her way to the door.
"If this is what you want, then fine." She shoved her feet into her shoes and threw on her jacket.
"Wait, please, I need to know you understand, that you believe me." He followed her to the door, unsure of what else he could do in that moment.
"Too bad! I'm not your girlfriend anymore, I'm not your problem anymore. You don't have to worry about me or what I understand or what I believe! Congratulations." When she looked back at him, there were tears in her eyes and Spencer felt his heart completely disintegrate. "Goodbye, Spencer."
And then she was gone. He stood in his doorway as still as a statue for so long that his legs eventually gave out and he curled up on the floor. He didn't know how long he stayed like that.
Over the next few weeks, his coworkers caught on to the fact that something was wrong. He'd declined several invitations to bar outings and brunch which, again, individually wasn't concerning, but he usually tried to make an appearance every once in while. After much pestering by JJ, he admitted that the relationship ended and he just hadn't felt up for going out as of late.
So when he tried to wiggle out of this newest invitation by saying he had a new edition of War & Peace that he wanted to break in, Garcia was having none of it.
"Boy genius, that book is still going to be there when you get back after the bar and I know damn well that you'll still have enough time to read it 50 times before you have to report back for duty on Monday. You're going." He pressed his lips in a tight line and nodded, accepting his fate. One night out wouldn't kill him. What's the worst that could happen?
Unfortunately, the answer to that question came about 36 minutes later when they arrived at Eddie's Bar. The group filed in and claimed a table near the back. Just as Spencer was taking his seat, he heard a laugh he could recognize anywhere. Without thinking it through, his head snapped up and found the source. (Y/N) was at the bar sitting next to a man Spencer had never seen before and from the looks of it they were getting pretty cozy. Her hand playfully rested on his forearm and Spencer couldn't help but notice how muscular this guy was. Full beard, flannel, burly muscles - she may as well have been on a date with Paul Bunyan. The polar opposite of him.
He knew he had no right to be jealous, but that didn't stop the green monster from rearing its ugly head. She knows I come to this bar with my team and it's way out of the way for her. Why was she here? Did he live nearby? Had she met him while we were still together? Suddenly, a pair of fingers snapped in front of his face.
"Uh, earth to Spence? What do you want to drink?" JJ looked at him quizzically.
"Oh, um just a water, thanks." He shook his head, trying to shake the image of (Y/N)'s uncovered legs crossing over each other in the high top bar stool. She was wearing a little black dress that Spencer knew well. It was what she wore on their first date.
In an attempt to not think about the elephant in the room, he tried focusing on the conversation his teammates had started. Something about hot dogs not being sandwiches or something like that. However, his eyes kept wandering back to her and his internal monologue was starting to spin out.
Who was this guy? Was this a first date? Did she even know his last name? Had she done any background checks on him? Maybe Penelope would still be willing to help her even if we aren't together. If I could just get his name, I could have her run the background check and anonymously get her the results. Or would that be weirder than her knowing it was from me?
Is he nice to her? She's laughing, that's probably a good sign. Maybe I should go check on her, or maybe send one of the girls over so it's not as weird. No, no, she wouldn't want that kind of intrusion. She probably doesn't even want me knowing she's here. With him.
Spencer rubbed his hands over his eyes and down his face. How was he going to make it through this night?
Well, there was one option.
"Does anyone want to do shots?" his squeaky voice clearly interrupted the team's conversation, but any awkwardness was quickly replaced by Penelope's squealing.
"Oooh!! Yes!! Yes - that's more like it, doctor! Shots!" She and Morgan peeled off to go retrieve said shots with Morgan giving him an impressed look on the way out of his seat.
"The good doctor is actually drinking tonight? It must be a Christmas miracle," Emily said taking another sip of her beer. He scrunched his face up and looked at her funny.
"It's mid-July?"
"You've never heard of Christmas in July?" He shook his head. "Well, in any case, let's have some fun!"
And fun they had. Four shots deep and JJ and Garcia finally managed to drag Spencer to the dance floor. The alcohol had plastered that goofy smile on his face and he had all but forgotten about (Y/N) and her date. He was loosening up, but kept tabs on her just to make sure she was okay. However, he wasn't as sneaky with his check ins as he thought because Derek came up to him and whispered to him in a low voice.
"Is that why you're drinking tonight, kid?"
"Pssh, I don't know what you're talking about," Spencer responded as convincingly has he could. Derek chuckled.
"Whatever you say, just let me know if you need to leave and we'll go, ok? No questions asked."
"L-like I said, I have no clue what you're talking about, Morgan." He turned back to continue dancing with the girls and Penelope handed him another shot. Derek in turn shot her a look of warning before she mouthed 'it's water' back to him with a thumbs up.
Eventually the bar started to clear out. As Spencer glanced around looking for (Y/N), he noticed she was no longer sitting at the bar. Panic shot through his veins until he saw her settled into a booth. With him. For all the good feelings the alcohol had brought him, seeing them cuddling up together in the booth sobered him up immediately. He knew physiologically that wasn't possible, but he couldn't explain the laser focus he had out of nowhere.
Is she going to leave with this guy? She works the morning shift on Saturdays, what is she even still doing out? Does he even care that she has to get up early?
While his head buzzed with questions about the nature of their coupling, he let himself stare at her longer than he should have. When he finally noticed that he was still staring, it was too late. Her eyes had found him and she was staring back, too. For a moment, they stayed like that. Spencer swore he could feel the rest of the bar melt away. Did she feel that, too? The bubble they briefly occupied was burst by the man next to her handing her a dark blue jacket, another article of clothing Spencer recognized. And just like that, (Y/N)'s eyes left Spencer's. At the same time, he felt an arm wrap around his shoulder.
"C'mon, kid, time to go," Derek said ushering him out of the bar. Spencer dared to take one last look behind him and saw a glimpse of her walking towards the other exit with her hand in the hand of her date. Whatever progress towards healing from this heartbreak that Spencer had made vanished in that glimpse.