Archive of Our Own

It hadn’t been an easy case, but no case at the BAU was easy. And relatively speaking, it hadn’t been the most horrible. Child kidnappings were awful, of course, but they’d gotten all of the children home safe, and what more could they ask for? So instead of heading straight to their sofas and beds, they’d gone out for celebratory drinks. Reid did his best not to think about the fact that these children would probably have PTSD the rest of their lives. In his line of work, if he didn’t take even the smallest of successes as wins, he’d end up like Gideon—tormented by those he couldn’t save, drowning in a sea of everyone hurt before an unsub was finally caught. As much as he respected his mentor, Reid didn’t want to be him.

So he joined his team at the bar. He used to find the chaos of music, drunken chatter, and intoxicated crowds overwhelming, but now it was the closest he ever got to shutting his mind off. The constant stream of thoughts never stopped, but they felt quieter, calmer. Through his body flowed every beat, and the blaring sounds in his ears were almost like a blanket, blocking out the screams that haunted his nightmares. Watching other patrons, he thought about their lives, their clothes, their drinks, whatever flowed through his head. It made things feel normal . He even danced on occasion, even if it was completely horrendous and mostly to embarrass Morgan when he was flirting with women. 

Being at the BAU really had changed him. Of course, he was still him. Sometimes he still stepped out for air, his senses needing a reset, and he tended to get a lot of strange looks when he hovered in the corners with his hands clasped in front of him like a scientifically inaccurate tyrannosaurus. He didn’t get nearly as much attention as someone like Morgan, and what little attention he did receive wasn’t generally positive.

Morgan often tried to “help” with this. “Reid, I heard that woman over there talking about Doctor Who. You might be her type,” he said, grinning.

“No thanks,” Reid said simply without looking away from the soda in front of him. He liked to watch the bubbling of carbonation.

“Come on, you can’t stay single forever,” Morgan said.

This got him to look up. “Just because I don’t talk about my dating life doesn’t mean I’m single.”

“My man,” Morgan said. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

This got the entire team interested. Even Hotch turned to him.

Garcia gasped. “Give me a name, Boy Genius. Not so I can run a background check, because I’m curious. Okay, just a teensy background check! Please?”

“It’s not official yet,” Reid protested. “It might not even work out.”

“So it’s not going well?” Prentiss asked sympathetically, though Reid suspected she wasn’t being serious.

“No, it’s going great. It’s just… telling you guys makes it hurt worse when it ends,” he mumbled.

“Then don’t end it,” said Rossi. “You like this girl, keep her around.”

Reid frowned. “He’s-”

“Reid, we’re all dying to know about her. Don’t leave us hanging,” Morgan teased.

“He’s not a woman,” Reid said, slightly confused. To his surprise, most of the team visibly reacted. Rossi, Morgan, and even JJ looked as if they were hearing this for the first time. Garcia and Prentiss seemed happy but unfazed. And Hotch’s face stayed steely and unreadable. 

“Sorry kid, I didn’t realize you were into dudes,” Morgan said. 

“Really?” Reid asked, a little baffled.

“You never mentioned it, so I just figured…”

“I’ve never tried to hide it or anything,” Reid said. “You really didn’t know?”

“No,” said Morgan.

“You’ll have to forgive me for being a little old-fashioned,” Rossi said. “I forget to consider all the possibilities.”

“I knew. Or I guessed, at least,” Garcia offered.

“So did I. You’re not subtle,” Prentiss said, lighthearted.

“Huh.” Reid didn’t quite know how to react. He really had made no attempt to conceal his bisexuality from the team. He assumed it was just something they knew, like his clear symptoms of a neurodevelopmental disorder that were treated as just “Reid-isms” because they were as much a part of him as his obsession with sci-fi. 

“Sorry we assumed,” JJ said. “You know we’ll always support you, right Spence?”

He nodded. “Of course. That’s why I never hid anything.”

“You are hiding his name from us,” Prentiss pointed out. “And, you know, everything about him.” She and Garcia looked at him expectantly.

“He’s a professor and painter. And an occasional consultant of the FBI’s White Collar division. That’s all you’re getting.” And the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met . But they didn’t need the last part.

“I’ll have him tracked down by morning,” Garcia promised cheerfully. And she would.

“Congrats, kid. Hope it works out,” Morgan said.

“I hope so too.” He really, really did.

* * *

He didn’t get the chance for romance often. And even if he did, it didn’t feel fair to any potential partners to even flirt with them. Spencer wasn’t the most available, physically or emotionally. He would get whisked away at a moment’s notice to save lives across the country, and he knew what that could do to a relationship. Hotch and Haley showed that to him.

That’s why Anthony was perfect. Both of them were out more often than they were home. Neither had the time for a typical relationship. They spoke primarily on the phone, whenever they could, and those conversations were always precious. On the rare occasion they were able to meet in-person, they didn’t go on formal dates. Sometimes they painted together, Anthony trying his best to get Spencer to explore his artistic side. Other times they watched Star Trek, curled up together while Spencer rattled off fun facts and scientific explanations. Anthony didn’t quite get a lot of it, but he listened to every word lovingly.

It was something he didn’t get at the Bureau. His team wasn’t unsupportive by any means, but they were there to work above everything else. So when he began to ramble in the middle of a case or during a briefing, they had to cut him off. Often, he appreciated the interruption. It kept him focused when there were people to be saved. But his time with Anthony was different. He didn’t have to focus. He didn’t have to stay on task. He could let his mind wander wherever it wanted, unguarded and free.

It was with his boyfriend (they’d made it official, finally) that he relearned how much he loved to listen. His mother used to read to him, but other than that, he often dominated conversations without meaning to. Anthony wasn’t the most talkative in private, despite his extrovertedness in public, but whenever he spoke it was the most beautiful sound in the world. Spencer encouraged him to speak as much as possible. He’d experienced fleeting, brief feelings before. He’d had crushes and found people attractive. This was different. The pure joy he found in seeing his boyfriend’s face and taking in the melody of his voice, the way everything felt alright when they were together… That was love.

It was terrifying. Spencer didn’t understand people well on a practical level, however skilled he was at profiling, and he especially didn’t understand his own feelings. But here he was, more certain than he’d ever been about a feeling. He wondered if it would be too much too soon, or if his boyfriend didn’t feel as strongly as he did. But as Anthony poked him in the nose with paint-covered fingers during a date, he blurted out, “I love you.”

Anthony smiled. “I love you too.”

Spencer laughed and placed his hand on his partner’s. 

“What’s so funny?”

“I was so worried about saying it, like I’d scare you off.”

Now Anthony laughed. “You’re not gonna scare me off, dumbass. I like you.”

* * *

“Four women are dead in Houston, Texas,” JJ began.

Before she could say another word, Reid interrupted. “Houston? There’s a serial killer in Houston?” He pulled out his phone, frantically dialing.

“Reid, what’s significant about Houston?” Hotch asked. He received no reply. “ Reid! ”

He froze in his tracks. Hotch really could be terrifying. “Yes, sir?”

“What’s the significance of Houston?”

Reid shifted uncomfortably. “Anthony’s there right now.”

“Take a look at the victimology. What do you see?”

He looked at the photographs, women covered in stab wounds. “White, blonde women in their early to mid twenties.”

“And Anthony is…?”

“A 36-year-old Mexican-American man with brown hair,” Reid answered. “Sorry, I…”

“It’s okay, Reid,” Hotch said softly, almost gently. “But we need your head in the game. No distractions. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Good.”

* * *

He called Anthony on the plane anyway once the team had a plan for when they arrived. In all likelihood, he would be at lunch and free to speak. And sure enough, he answered.

“Hey Spencer,” Anthony said, smiling audibly.

“Hey,” he said, feeling calmer already. “You’ll never guess where our next case is.”

“Almost, Maine?”

Spencer laughed. “No, but I’d love to have a case there. Though that also means someone would probably have to get killed first. Which isn’t very cool, actually.”

“Where’s your next case?” Anthony asked, reminding him why he called.

“Houston. Where you are.”

“So you’re coming here?”

“I am. I have to get started on the case, but at some point I can go see you. If you’d like.”

“I’d love that,” Anthony said. 

“Be careful, though. Don’t go anywhere alone. Or stay out too late. And don’t go to any suspicious areas.”

“Spencer.”

“Make sure your doors are locked, too. Be careful of strangers.”

“Spencer!”

“Actually, it’s probably best if we stick together. I can keep you safe if you just stay-.”

“Spencer, stop. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“There’s a killer on the loose, Anthony, I can’t take any chances.”

His boyfriend sighed over the phone. “You’re just looking out for me. I get that. But your job shows you the worst of the worst. It teaches you to see danger in everything. My job teaches me to see the beauty in everything. I don’t want to live in fear.”

“But…”

“I’ll be fine, Spencer. I know how to take care of myself. You just have to trust me, okay?”

“...Okay,” Spencer said finally, though his thoughts still raced.

“How about I meet you at the airport? My next lecture isn’t until the evening.”

“Yeah. That sounds good,” agreed Spencer. “We’re set to land by two.”

“I promise you I’ll get there safe and sound. And if I don’t, you can tell my ghost ‘I told you so.’”

“That’s not funny,” Spencer said, even though the corners of his mouth had begun to turn upward.

“No? Then why are you smiling?” Anthony teased.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. See you in a little while, okay? I gotta talk to this museum director.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Reid set down his phone and turned toward the window. His leg bounced anxiously on its own. Only when Hotch sat right in front of him did he even notice the unit chief gotten up and moved.

“He’s going to be okay, Reid.”

“I know, I just… I worry. I can’t lose someone else.”

“Believe me, if there’s anyone who understands wanting to keep a partner safe, it’s me.” Hotch didn’t need to mention a name for Reid to know he was referring to Haley. “But he’s not being targeted. He’s safe. What I came over to say, though, is that I don’t want you making the same mistakes I did. If you ever need a day off to spend with him, it’ll be arranged. All you need is to ask.”

“Thank you. That means a lot, actually.”

“We all want you to be happy. You’ve come a long way, Reid. Don’t ever think I or anyone else on this team is not proud of that.” Hotch stood and returned to his seat.

* * *

Spencer felt slightly guilty that the member of the team most excited to meet his partner ended up being the last. Garcia remained back at her office in Quantico and would almost certainly have some words with him about this later. But first, he had to get through introducing Anthony to the rest of the team. When they arrived, he sped ahead of them and got outside as quickly as possible.

“Hi, Spencer,” Anthony greeted warmly, and everything felt like it was going to be alright.

“Hi,” Spencer said. “My team’s on their way to say hello.”

“Should be fun,” Anthony said. “That them?”

Spencer grimaced. “Yeah. That’s them.”

JJ, who he’d suspected was more excited than she’d let on, approached first, holding out her hand for a handshake. “Anthony, I assume. It’s great to meet you, Spence seems to like you a lot. I’m-”

“JJ, right?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I see he’s told you about us. Good things, I hope,” she joked.

“Lots of good things. You’re his best friend, after all.” 

Morgan stepped out. “What about me?”

“Derek Morgan for sure. Spencer said you’re an asshole,” Anthony said.

“I did not!” Spencer protested, shocked.

Ouch, kid, I feel betrayed,” Morgan said with a grin. 

“Okay, he said you’re like a brother to him. But my brothers are assholes, so it’s basically the same thing. I hope I didn’t offend you, I figured with the way he talks about you, you’d find it funny.”

“No issues here. I like you already,” Morgan reassured him.

“What’s he said about me?” asked Prentiss.

“Emily Prentiss. The way he talks about you, you sound like a badass. Not someone I want on my bad side, but a good friend too.” 

“What, and the rest of us aren’t badass?” Rossi complained unseriously.

“She can beat Spencer in poker,” Anthony explained.

“Fair enough,” he conceded. “It’s good to meet you. Thanks for looking after the kid when we’re not there.”

You make it sound like he’s a babysitter,” Spencer said.

“He doesn’t need a lot of looking after,” Anthony defended. “He’s pretty cool on his own.”

“A babysitter might not be the worst idea,” Hotch said, his emotionless face unbroken despite the joke. “You’d get yourself in fewer dangerous situations, at the very least.”

“See what I deal with?” Spender said to his boyfriend, who looked thoroughly amused.

“I’m sorry to cut things short, but we do need to make our way to the local police,” Hotch said. “I’m glad we were able to meet, Anthony.” He offered a classic firm handshake.

Everyone said their goodbyes and followed Hotch out, leaving Spencer and Anthony alone.

“Your team seems great.”

“They’re my family. Including the teasing,” he said affectionately.

“I’m glad you have them. Take care of yourself, alright? We’ll get dinner after you’re done for the day.”

Spencer nodded. “See you then.” He turned to leave.

“You want a kiss goodbye?” Anthony said. It was lovely that he was never pressured, only asked.

“Oh!” Spencer realized he’d forgotten. He leaned in, their lips meeting for a brief but heavenly moment of contact.

“See you tonight,” Anthony said. “Now go catch up with your team, darling.”

Spencer nodded and took off, so blissful from the small kiss he almost tripped several times. Morgan was definitely going to tease him about that later.

* * *

Garcia did in fact have words for Reid, a lot of them. “I’m hurt, 187. Hurt. I’ve been asking to see him for months!” and so on. She finished with “You, me, and him, dinner. As soon as you’re both home. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Reid, fearing the consequences of refusing. 

Garcia insisted on hosting, so the two met her at her apartment. Her living space was every bit as vibrant and colorful as her outfits. Anthony had agonized over what to wear, claiming meeting her was the equivalent of meeting a terrifyingly protective older sibling and that he had to look his best. But Spencer knew there was nothing to worry about. The moment she opened the door, she practically squealed in excitement.

“You’re even cuter in person!” she exclaimed before ushering them in. “Sit wherever you like, my lovelies. Dinner’s almost done. Just don’t tell Rossi about it or he’ll call me an abomination to Italian food again.” She scurried back into the kitchen and came right back out. “I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m terrible at hosting. Penelope, tech goddess of the BAU and second-biggest nerd in this room.”

Spencer’s boyfriend looked slightly overwhelmed. “Anthony,” he said. “Thanks for having us.”

She curtsied. “Of course. Now, Spencer, bring your boyfriend over to the comfy sofa and sit. I will not have guests uncomfortable in my abode.” She rushed back to the kitchen before Spencer got a word out.

They followed her instructions and sat down. “I see what you mean. She must brighten the team a lot,” Anthony said.

“She keeps us smiling,” Spencer agreed.

Soon, Garcia returned with dinner. Rossi would probably have complaints about the vegan substitutions, but it tasted great. They began to talk. Garcia brought a calming, comfortable presence. Spencer felt peaceful, like everything had worked out perfectly.

“You really are gorgeous,” she said again. “Ever since Lila Archer, I knew Spencer had good taste.”

Anthony turned. “What’s this about Lila Archer?”

“Should I not have said anything? I’m sorry. I didn’t know that was a secret,” Garcia said worriedly.

“It’s not a secret, I just never mentioned a name,” Spencer said. “That girl I mentioned from L.A., the one I made out with in her pool? That was her.”

Anthony’s face lit up. “Oh my god. I need more details, like now.”

“It wasn’t a big thing. We only talked on occasion after that,” Spencer explained, trying to calm his partner’s excitement.

“You kept talking to her?” He gasped. “This just gets better and better.”

“Like I said,” Garcia said, “great taste.”

That night, after hours of gossip and incredibly nerdy conversation, he asked Anthony, “Did it bother you to talk about someone I was involved with?”

Anthony paused. “No. I’m no Lila Archer, but I know you love and care about me. That’s enough, I think. If I compared myself or started to worry about it I’d go crazy.”

“You trust me,” Spencer realized.

He smiled. “Yeah, I do.”

It felt nice.

* * *

They moved in together. He had never taken that step before, and it sent fear running through his head. Spencer knew living with him wasn’t exactly easy. He had a lot of odd habits and peculiarities and strict rules for the way things worked that only made sense in his head. Plus, years of going after murderers (and on occasion them going after him) added more and more trauma to his already sizable list. More often than he liked to admit, he woke his partner with the yelling and thrashing that came with his nightmares.

They both had natural dark circles under their eyes, no matter how much sleep they’d gotten, but seeing how much darker those circles were on Anthony after the bad nights sent guilt to the pit of his stomach.

So he started therapy. Normal, non-FBI therapy. Anthony sat with him as he scanned lists of candidates in the area, and cheered for him when he finally selected one. He started sessions two months later, the shortest waitlist he could find. Part of him, the part with his ego, insisted it would do no good. He was already an expert on psychology. What help could he get that he didn’t already know? But he swallowed his pride.

And it helped. It really, really helped. It didn’t fix his PTSD or stop his nightmares, but his symptoms did lessen, little by little. His therapist, also a qualified psychologist, diagnosed him with autism spectrum disorder, which wasn’t all that unexpected, even if it took him some time to fully accept.

“I realized something,” Spencer said one day while painting. It was their first date in weeks, much-needed after the cases he’d had lately.

“What’d you realize?”

“A partner isn’t there to be everything for you. In the shows I watch and the books I read, there’s so much emphasis on a person meaning absolutely everything to someone that I didn’t realize how unrealistic that is.”

“What do you mean?” Anthony asked. Spencer realized he looked slightly hurt, like he had just been told he wasn’t important.

“It’s not a bad thing!” he corrected quickly. “It’s more like… a stepladder compared to a ladder.” 

Anthony frowned. “I’m sorry, babe, you’re gonna have to elaborate.”

“A stepladder has two parts. One side to climb and the other to balance it so it can stand on its own. Without the other side, it’s not even a stepladder anymore. The two sides have no independent existence. But a ladder doesn’t have that. It’s on its own. Sometimes it needs to be held and stabilized, and the more someone’s there to hold it steady the better it fares. That person doesn’t redefine the ladder, or fundamentally alter it. But they help. And they make a big difference.”

Anthony seemed to ponder this. “So I’m stabilizing your ladder?”

“Maybe not the best metaphor, but what I’m trying to say is that I’m really glad I can be me and still be with you. I’m glad you encourage me to go to therapy so I can work on healing, and to go out and make friends, and to spend time with members of my team even when we’re not working. You support me by helping me realize I can’t rely on a singular thing or person to solve my problems. You help me be the best version of myself, but a version that’s still me. Does that make sense?”

“I get what you mean,” Anthony said softly. “I want what’s best for you, not to try to ‘fix’ you myself. You don’t need fixing, you need support. Like anyone else does.”

“I hope you’re happy with me. I’m not the easiest to be with,” Spencer said.

“And I am? We’ve both got our issues. There’s no one I’d rather work them out with.” Anthony pulled him in close. “Everything you said… I feel that about you too. You support my ladder. That metaphor needs work, though.”

Spencer laughed and kissed him.

* * *

“Have you had any other boyfriends?” JJ asked out of the blue.

“Officially? Just one,” Reid answered. “Why?”

“I guess I felt bad that I didn’t know about you being bi,” she said. “We’re best friends, and I had no idea.”

Reid shook his head. “You can’t blame yourself for that. I never intentionally hid anything, but I’m not exactly an open book, either.”

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” JJ said.

He nodded. “I know. Thanks, JJ.”

“So tell me about him,” she said, leaning forward.

“Who?”

“The other guy you dated. When was that?”

“Oh. Ethan. His name’s Ethan. I’ve actually talked about him before, though. On the plane, the same case you met Will.”

JJ raised her eyebrows. “Your ‘old friend,’ the one who quit the academy after a day?”

“Yeah, he wasn’t exactly just a friend.” 

“Every time I think I know about you, there’s something else I haven’t learned yet,” JJ said.

“I’ll try to be more open,” Reid promised. It was one of the things he worked on in therapy, opening up to others. He never found it easy, but it did help.

“That’s all I can ask for,” said JJ, looking happy. They had dinner together that night, speaking for hours.

* * *

If Spencer was being entirely honest, he didn’t want to introduce Anthony to his mother at all. When she was involved, he could no longer predict what would happen. She might welcome Anthony warmly into the family, or she might accuse him of being a fascist agent in disguise, sent to take her away. Desperately he wanted for them to meet, but the chance of it going horribly wrong scared him off for a year and a half.

Finally, Anthony insisted. “I know you’re worried. But I want to meet her. You’ve met my parents, it’s only fair.”

So he agreed. The entire way there, his leg bounced, anxiety about the worst-case scenarios overtaking him. But he’d already committed to the decision, so before long his mother came into view and he stood awkwardly next to the table where she sat.

“Hey, Mom,” he said.

She looked up, at first alarmed. When she saw Spencer, her entire demeanor relaxed. “Spencer! You’re so tall. When did you get so tall?”

He laughed softly. “You’ve been saying that since I was a kid. I stopped growing years ago.”

“Who’s that?” she asked, suddenly suspicious and wide-eyed.

“That’s someone I’d like you to meet. He’s really important.”

She pressed her back to her chair as if hoping it would swallow her up. “You’re taking me away again? Spencer, you promised. Don’t do this to me.”

“No, no, no one’s taking you away!” Spencer said frantically. “He’s a friend. A good person. We can trust him.”

She calmed slightly but only slightly. “He’s not one of the fascists you work with?”

“He’s an artist. He paints. You’d love his work. Can you at least say hello?”

She chewed on her fingernail anxiously, but she didn’t protest, so Spencer and Anthony sat across from her at the table.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Anthony said. “I’m Anthony.”

“How long have you and my son been together?” she asked pointedly.

“Mom!” Spencer’s eyes widened.

“A mother always knows,” she said simply.

“A little while,” answered Anthony. “That’s why I wanted to meet you.”

“And you treat my son well?”

Spencer’s face heated with embarrassment at his mother subjecting his partner to an interrogation, but to said partner’s credit, he didn’t seem too fazed.

“Very well, ma’am. Spencer means a lot to me.”

“Good,” she said with a nod. “Keep it that way.”

Suddenly, Spencer felt fifteen again, but the way fifteen was supposed to feel. Like in the movies. Like he was a regular high schooler bringing home his first partner, and his mom was the classic overprotective parent. Everything was so young and pure and innocent. This is what he deserved. This is what he was supposed to have. Maybe it came twenty years too late, but here it was. And it brought tears he hadn’t expected down his cheeks.

“Did he do something?” his mom asked immediately, eyeing Anthony suspiciously.

Spencer smiled. “No, Mom, I’m just happy.”

“Oh,” she said, visibly relaxing. “That’s good. You should be happy.”

Anthony squeezed his hand and leaned into his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re happy, darling.”

Sometimes, his memory felt like a curse. But right then, in that picture-perfect scene, he was glad he’d never forget.

* * *

“Thank you,” Spencer said as they ate his boyfriend’s home-cooked menudo.

“Of course,” he said, and Spencer realized Anthony thought he was referring to the food.

“For everything, I mean. You’ve made me better.”

“You’ve helped me, too,” Anthony said, looking him right in the eyes. “But all that healing? That’s you. You made yourself better. I was just here to support you.”

“Like a ladder,” Spencer said, recalling their past conversation.

Anthony laughed. “Just like a ladder. You stabilize my ladder too, Spencer. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“Good. Now eat your dinner, before you get distracted.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.