⠀⠀ ⠀"can you back off?" | spencer reid x ftm!reader
when a case that involves reader, spencer tries to be there for him and it blows up in his face - after hotch gives reader a wake-up call after he puts himself in danger, comfort ensues ─ 4.7k words.
if you are a female reader, read this respectfully, this isn’t for you.
hurt/comfort, reader is a bau member, reader uses he/him, reader is also trans and also autistic (as is spencer, are you kidding me), s4 spencer, spencer is 27, reader is 26 and on t but pre-op, spencer is bisexual (as was meant to be in canon), reader is gay, emily is a lesbian (it has no impact on plot but it was going to be canon so), transphobia, internal struggles with religion, abuse, all the normal criminal minds warnings, i’m making this case up so bear with me, lmk if i’ve missed anything. bits of dialogue from the first pitch perfect movie used. use of (y/n), i’m trying different things out. no beta readers, we die like real men. MDNI.
‘jason gideon, an expert in the criminal psyche yet unable to diagnose the autistic leanings of the very insecure dr reid, nor of agent (y/l/n) who wants so badly to play with the big boys that he chose to become one, it’s laughable.’
that’s what rang though (y/n)’s mind as garcia told the team about the new case. he had seen her and jj in hotch’s office a few minutes prior looking worried, consistently looking in his direction as they spoke to him, that should’ve made him worried right then but it hadn’t. they could’ve both been looking at anyone, but they hadn’t been.
“my furry friends, this case is not at all nice or wonderful,” she had squeezed his shoulder on her way round the table. “especially as it concerns our boy here.”
he had zoned out as she gave a run down on the case, he felt eyes dart to him as she filled everyone in, pulling up picture after picture, (y/n) couldn’t tell whether or not hotch would even let him on the case. he knew (y/n) be passionate about it, but he also knew that it’d harm him.
he hadn’t even noticed everyone getting up after hotch had said ‘wheels up in thirty’ until garcia kissed his head on her way back to her bat cave. he got up and grabbed his go bag; it was always under his desk after it got repacked, everything folded and rolled up in order, his laptop, notebooks and spare chargers lay on top of everything.
spencer held back, hair falling into his eyes as he tried not to stare as (y/n) leant against his desk, taking a moment before they both joined the rest of the team at the jet where they’d debrief on the case on their way to seattle. (y/n) sat himself by the window at the table and hotch sat right next to him, not giving him an option to leave.
with the files sat in front of them all and garcia on the laptop screen, he had no choice but to pay attention to it all. truthfully, he had known about it, he knew about just about any crime against lgbt members, he kept track.
spencer was sat opposite him and gently nudged his foot under the table, he was always gentle, (y/n) appreciated that about him. hotch had asked him a question and (y/n) had once again zoned out. “i asked if you’d say with rossi and reid. i want you as far away from this case as possible whilst still working it.”
“yeah, whatever you say.” the victim’s bodies stared at him from the case file in front of him. the unsub had seeked out trans men and women and reverted their surgeries and in term, killed them, leaving them out in the open for passersby to see and find. whilst the team debated on why the murders happened, on why people like him had been targeted, (y/n) had been shaking his head at all their answers. not because they had the potential to be wrong, that was always the case in the early stages but because he hated that his existence had to be debated at all.
“maybe it’s punishment. plenty hate that people like me exist.” they all looked at him with empathy; they all knew that a case like this mustn’t be nice to deal with. they remained quiet, usually they’d continue to throw ideas out there, but they chose to use the rest of their time in the air to mentally prepare for what they were going to be dealing with once they landed.
spencer had stolen hotch’s seat once he had got up, it was routine that if either spencer or (y/n) needed a nap before a case, they would use the other’s shoulder. (y/n) however, couldn’t sleep, he just listened to the quiet mumbles of spencer’s voice as he read 'the sign of four' to him for the millionth time. it was their joint favourite.
once they landed, they all split up, hotch and jj talking to the families or friends of the victims, morgan and emily going to the morgue, and rossi, spencer and (y/n) going to the crime scenes. him going to the scenes was good enough, talking to families wouldn’t have done well especially if they reacted negatively and going to see the bodies would’ve been the worst possible choice.
something the three picked up on, was that the unsub had used the exact same spot in the exact same alley for each of the bodies. that wasn’t something that they had seen a lot, usually it was just around the same area. rossi talked to the officers whilst spencer and (y/n) tried to look for any significance or reason for them using that spot. they figured out that at a certain point during the day, the sun would bounce off one of the windows on the apartments opposite the alley and light up where the bodies had been, acting as a spotlight.
with hotch and emily, they were talking to various people, family, friends, loved ones, anyone that had come forward to talk about the victims. the reactions varied, some were upset, some were relieved, some even seemed glad. hotch and jj had found out that all six victims had left the church around the beginning of their transitions, leading them to believe that perhaps (y/n) was right about it being punishment. they rang garcia, who immediately bombarded the two with questions about (y/n). “is he okay? how is he handling this?”
“rossi said he’s doing as well as he can be, spence has been trying to distract him where he can- but we need you to find something out for us.” jj had been the one to call, hotch wrapping up with one of the family members.
“oh. yes, i’m all ears, gimme.”
“all six victims used to be with the church prior to their transition, we need you to find out which church and we need a list of all the people who have been there if you can.”
“if i can? my sweet jj, i’ll have that list to you at the speed of boy wonder’s brain.” and they did. the list went up on the board along with the crime scene photos and the victim’s photos prior to their deaths.
at the morgue however, it was awful. the unsub had done a gross, horrendous job at trying to ‘fix’ them. it was like they deluded themselves into thinking that it looked good, but it didn’t. the medical examiner had tried to remain professional whilst the two were there, but she couldn’t, and neither could they.
she had a nephew that was trans and she had said that it had been really hard not to imagine him in the same place as the six bodies. in turn, morgan and emily couldn’t help thinking back to (y/n). from spending time together, they both knew that he was only on testosterone, he hadn’t yet had surgery but in case the unsub decided to elevate their crimes, the whole team needed to keep an eye on (y/n).
when they all reunited at the station, (y/n) was pacing, rambling whilst they all spitballed ideas and tried to come up with just exactly who on the list would do such a thing. garcia was on the phone, going through everyone on the list, telling them who they were and what they did. spencer was staring at their board; he had tuned everyone but (y/n) out.
“it’s bullshit. such bullshit. reverting surgeries…of course it’s punishment. not like any of you are listening to me anyways. it’s punishment and the unsub wants us to be sorry for changing what the lord created.” he paced so much and rambled about the argument of people being made in the lord’s image, that without thinking, spencer pulled a chair out and sat him down, his attention having been pulled away from the board.
“you know, last month we released last years statistics on hate crimes and 18.4 percent of them were motivated by religion. overall, only nine murders were reported as hate crimes, 18.9 percent of them happened in alleys and 20.6 percent of them were for aggravated-”
“sorry- why are you telling me this?” (y/n) frowned and stood up from the chair that spencer had sat him in. realistically, (y/n) knew that spencer was only trying to help; to distract but he had a bad way of doing so. how spencer got as far into his statistics as he did was a miracle only given because (y/n) was baffled. the whole room, garcia on the phone back in quantico, quietened.
“i was just trying to help you.”
“i don’t need your help; you’re not my boyfriend.”
of course, spencer wasn’t his boyfriend, they were just close friends and co-workers. usually, spencer’s info dumping would be greeted with open arms, especially on movie nights but in this case where (y/n) was definitely too emotionally and personally invested, it wasn’t the right move at all.
with garcia having told them that the victims had all gone to the same church, he stormed out of the room and went on foot, pushing away the fear that ran through him as he got closer to the church. he was thankful that his team hadn’t followed him, but he knew garcia would be tracking his phone, whether the team asked her to or not.
once he got there, he headed straight for the pastor, badge and phone in hand. he was lucky that his four years of being on testosterone had at least helped his face, he was weary of the pastor that ran the church. it could be him that had done these crimes and (y/n) had also left his church once he realised who he was.
even so, he listed all the names that garcia had given him until the pastor raised his hand, a command to pause. the air felt thick and (y/n) wanted to get out immediately, his throat beginning to itch. that was until the pastor repeated a name. “jim carlson. he helps out alot with the church, knows how things should be, hates when people don’t conform to the word of our lord. if you’re looking for anyone that could’ve done that, my child, he could be your man.”
(y/n) bowed his head respectfully, a ‘thank you for your time, father’ leaving his lips before he left the church as quickly as he could, back into the fresh air and called garcia. “penny. what do you have on a jim carlson? father said he’d seem like one to fit the case. patch in the team too, please.”
“well honeybee, let me see, hold on. (y/n) has found us a name!”
“i’m on my way back, i shouldn’t be long.”
“anyways, jim carlson. he’s 56, there’s no address for him, he doesn’t work but has a medical background but he was fired due to horrendous morals. which would explain why they look...so so bad. he volunteers all his time at the church which i assume you knew. his parents are no longer with us sadly but, he is- was a parent too.”
“was a parent?” hotch raised an eyebrow as garcia rattled off all of jim’s information off her screen.
“yes sir. his child died...when they were just 15...oh my poor angel. it says here that he died on his way home from school, stabbed repeatedly. hold on, he was in therapy for...for being trans and jim insisted he was a sinner and that ‘the devil was taking away my little girl’.” her sighs were audible on the other end of the line as (y/n) walked back into the station, hanging up as he joined the team with garcia still on the line.
“i told you it was punishment. father said that jim hates when people don’t conform to the lord’s words.”
morgan was next to speak. “his timing hasn’t been consistent. we don’t know when or where he’s going to strike next.”
jj was already compiling anything she could possibly use for the media if they decided they were going to go down that route. emily went to speak to the families to see if they knew who jim carlson was.
hotch stared at (y/n) whilst he spoke to morgan, spencer and rossi. “someone needs to go undercover. i’ll have jj speak to the media. we have to lure him out.”
“i can do it hotch. i’m not fragile.” his shoulders hunched up defensively, spencer noticed that (y/n) always did that when he felt attacked or antagonised.
“i think everyone, would prefer it if you stayed here, kiddo. he could escalate, it’s a known fact of who you are and if he knows us, he knows you.” rossi pat his back in a comforting parental way.
spencer hadn’t said a word since (y/n) had left, still stunned at what he had said before storming out. he had liked (y/n), he was almost certain it was just platonic but seeing how this case affected him, it tugged on his heart strings. they had all been passionate about cases that meant something to them, but this felt different.
“you’re not going to put yourself in danger just to prove yourself to us, kid. i will lock you in one of these interrogation rooms if i have to.” morgan was playing the classic older brother act. he always did when it came to the safety of those he cared about. “you’ve already forced yourself back into a church, don’t do this too. it’s reckless.”
(y/n)’s shoulders slumped and he threw himself down onto one of the chairs. they were right, it would be best if he stayed but was he going to listen? no. no he wasn’t, but he would wait.
the second jj had released information about jim carlson to the media, they all went back to the hotel, turning in for the night. (y/n) ended up in spencer’s room, they both avoided talking about what had happened earlier as they both lay on the bed. spencer was propped up with (y/n) resting against his shoulder as he continued reading ‘the sign of four’. he had skipped forward, naturally being the fast reader he is, but he had gone back to where they had stopped reading on the plane. his voice softly filled the room as (y/n) figured out how he could go after jim without raising any alarms.
after an hour of spencer trying his best to talk at a regular speed, a constant issue he had when reading aloud, (y/n) went back to his own room, or so spencer thought. he didn’t know where he was going to find jim, but it didn’t matter. with his face all over the news, he was bound to be on the hunt for another victim to prove his point.
unfortunately for (y/n), jim was hunting him. not the other way around. what jj had done had pissed him off and he had seen (y/n) go into the church earlier in the day.
he had paused his hunt for jim to put his phone on silent, he didn’t need to be interrupted or found if someone decided to call him. unfortunately for him, the second his phone was back in his pocket, a rag soaked in chloroform was pressed over his face.
when morning came, they were all back at the station with no sign of (y/n). they just assumed he was running a bit late, especially with how hard the case had been so far. that was until it got to 10am. hotch had looked around for (y/n), no one had seen him that morning. guilt and realisation flashed over spencer's face. “he went after the unsub. last night, i…he left my room and i assumed he went back to his own but now i’m not so sure.”
morgan was on the phone with garcia immediately, asking her to track his phone whilst jj tried to call him again and again. emily had gone straight to the sheriff to tell him they would need help. hotch and rossi both stepped infront of spencer as he tried to make his way out of the station and out to look for him. “what if jim already has him?”
spencer hadn’t meant to voice his concern out loud but they were all thinking it. they all frowned, trying not to think about it but they needed to. they were down an agent. an agent that could be dead by the end of the day if he wasn't already.
“i found him! he’s in an apartment complex that, one second, is going to be demolished next month. i would assume jim has him in the basement. it’s a block from the church, the address has been sent to your phones. please find him and keep me updated!”
“we will babygirl, we’ll get him back.”
whilst they all got their vests on and communicated with the officers and what the plan was, (y/n) was coming to. in jim’s anger, he hadn’t searched (y/n) for his phone so garcia was thankful she had a constant view of him on her map. he had been propped up against a wall with zip ties holding his wrists behind his back as jim ranted about how people were turning against god. “you. you’re all the same. you’re all willing to abandon him. he created us all and made us in his image and you people rip yourselves apart to disobey him.”
“romans 8:39…neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation,” he wriggled around, still coming to, trying to get comfortable on the rock-hard concrete, the zip ties digging into his skin. “will be able to seperate us from the love of god that is in christ jesus our lord.”
(y/n) hadn’t forgotten a lot of the bible, spencer was the soul reason for that, he knew it inside and out, not that he believed in god himself anyway. he wished that he hadn’t spoken to him the way he had but the need to prove himself to the team, to himself was greater than the need to resolve his problems with spencer.
“shut up! you’re just like that abomination of a child! your soul isn’t right, it’s a disgrace! you need fixing!”
“i don’t need fixing, my soul is fine! and so was your son’s! romans 13:10, love does no harm to a neighbour. therefore love is the fulfilment of the law.” he tried his hardest to remain calm but the storm within the both of them grew larger and larger. the team was on their way and spencer had been the first to get into the car, his vest barely strapped on correctly with hotch demanding that he not rush in the second they got there.
unfortunately for them, jim was an anger fuelled man who had already cut away (y/n)’s shirt, exposing his binder, if it wasn’t for the feeling of impending doom, he’d be fighting to cover himself. “you can still be saved, praise the lord.”
“i’m not the one who needs saving, you asshole!” (y/n) winced as he reached his leg to kick jim in the knee, causing him to land with a thud. jim crawled back up to him and grabbed him by the hair, punching his face repeatedly, knife clutched in his fist as he did so, nicking sections of his binder when he started attacking his ribs. (y/n) couldn’t fight back with his hands still tied behind his back and his legs had been held down by jim’s weight and he fell unconscious as he got more blows to the head.
the team arrived as quickly as they could, not waiting for anyone else to join them. morgan was first as they all filed in, spencer had fixed his vest whilst they drove over. they were the first two in the building and the yells coming from both jim and (y/n) echoed throughout.
the rest of the team weren’t far behind them, but the pair still found them first. morgan was quick to shoot jim in the shoulder, causing him to drop and roll off of (y/n) so spencer rushed over to untie him as morgan handcuffed jim.
“(y/n)? come on, wake up. please?” he checked his pulse, lightly slapping his cheek before gently moving the hair that had fallen over (y/n)’s left eye. the rest of the team and back up had arrived, medical waiting outside to tend to any wounds. emily helped spencer get him in a safe position, having slumped to the floor once jim had rolled off him.
(y/n) looked a state, his nose was bleeding and crooked, his bottom lip was split and his left eye extremely red and swollen, it would definitely bruise when they got back to virginia. emily draped her jacket over him, keeping him warm as he gained consciousness, moving him to the ambulance when they didn’t know the extent of his injuries wouldn’t be safe.
the first thing (y/n) saw when he came to, was a blurry spencer. he sighed, wincing as he sat up, emily’s jacket sliding to his lap. he rubbed his good eye and managed to get out through wheezes, “jesus christ, that’s perfect. of course you’re here right now. i don’t need your help; can you back off?”
spencer stood up, eyebrows knitted together, leaving emily to help (y/n) get upstairs and seen to. it was easy to see that (y/n) was just frustrated and in pain, but he had also bitten off way more than he could chew and the team needed to work together, needed to take the weight of this case off of (y/n)’s shoulders. he alerted medical that (y/n) needed medical attention once he and emily left the building, then stood near hotch, visibly upset that his friend hadn’t let him help.
“i’ll talk to him once he’s patched up.”
“it’s fine…he’ll warm back up, it would’ve just been safer if we left him back in quantico with garcia, where he wouldn’t have gotten hurt. or exposed.”
they both watched as (y/n) and emily made their way over to the ambulance, him limping and her supporting his weight. spencer gazed at him, a smile tugging on his lips as he watched (y/n) move his head away from the medics each time they touched a cut or his eye, he was always so stubborn and spencer adored that about (y/n) at times.
he had tugged emily’s jacket further around him, it was cold in seattle and with a destroyed shirt and a binder that had holes in it, he was thankful for it. what was also keeping him warm was spencer’s stare burning into the side of his head, it was embarrassing to say the least, he looked a mess. he tried keep his eyes to the ground, anywhere but the stare of his friend begged for reciprocation.
hotch climbed into the ambulance after (y/n), telling the team to join them at the hospital. as soon as the doors shut, hotch grilled him whilst he held an icepack to his eye. “you have no need to act out, not against reid.”
“i have no need to act out? of course, i fucking do, hotch. there are more people like him out there and there will be less people like me if they don’t get brought in.”
“there will be one less member on this team if you put yourself in danger like this again. reid didn’t need to be talked to like that and we need you alive. this team needs you. as does all the other people out there like you. you have a split lip, a black eye is forming, your face is bruised, your nose is potentially broken, as may be your ribs.”
(y/n) rolled his one good eye, bringing his knees up to his chest on the gurney. “if you’re going to grill me, i’d prefer you did it back at quantico. not in an ambulance where i have no where to go to escape you.”
“i’m not treating you like an unsub. i’m treating you like someone who needs a wake-up call. what you did last night, even yesterday wasn’t something a team player does.”
“maybe you need the wake-up call, hotch. not everyone can be like you. not everyone can live a life without fearing they’ll be next. i fear that every day, even every time we go to a state that i know hates people like me.”
“enough. when we get back, you’re having two weeks off and you’re seeing the psychiatrist.”
“what, so you can treat me like elle? we didn’t listen to her and look what happened.”
the ambulance fell silent safe for the sound of the engine and the medical equipment. (y/n) dropped the icepack to the bed and rested until they arrived. the air was heavy and neither of them wanted to talk any further. the mention of elle greenaway had been a harsh blow.
hotch had been right, jim had infact broken some of (y/n)’s ribs and his nose. they reset his nose and gave him painkillers for his ribs, spencer had grabbed a hoodie from (y/n)’s go bag before making his way to the hospital, so he didn’t have to sit in the gown after they had to cut his binder off to prevent further damage.
it was quiet in the room as spencer helped him pull the hoodie over his head. (y/n) accepted the help without argument, the topic of his chest not being an issue between the two men. he winced as he wriggled over in the bed, leaving a space. “sit with me, spence.”
“are you sure?”
“just sit you fucking nerd,” the laugh was weak and strained as his ribs cried for help, spencer sat regardless of the could-be insult. “i wanted to apologise.”
“it’s fine, i get it. the case was personal to you; you followed it since the first murder. garcia told me.”
“it’s not fine. the statistics…yeah, that wasn’t necessary, but you were trying to help in that weird way that i adore. you being the first person i saw when i came back around? i…do appreciate it. i would’ve done the same for you.” (y/n) rested his head against spencer’s shoulder, looping an arm around his. “i’m sorry. i need to apologise to hotch too, but he can wait. you’re more important to me. i’m sorry if i hurt your feelings or made you feel guilty, or if i made you think i don’t like you.”
spencer lay his head against (y/n)’s, sighing. his feelings really had been hurt but it was understandable why (y/n) lashed out. “ribs take roughly three to six weeks to heal if you don’t overexert yourself. hotch will make you take those six weeks you know.”
“the bastard told me two and a trip to the psychiatrist, but if i am infact off for six weeks, you’ll be suffering with morgan all alone.”
“suffering is an understatement, especially with what happened earlier.” (y/n) was quiet, sensing there was something more. “when we realised you had gone off the second time, it was this morning. we all got back to the station and hotch had started planning to get someone to go undercover but you hadn’t shown up. without thinking…i was going to go find you myself but, hotch and rossi stopped me.”
spencer stared at the clock hanging right ahead of them before continuing, his voice softer, “i was the first to get in the car, my vest wasn’t even on correctly and hotch didn’t want me to rush in the second we got to you. i just wanted to find you and make sure you were alive…”
(y/n) sat up properly and turned to look at him the best he could, eyes tracing his face, deep in thought. that confused spencer. “what? did i say something wrong?”
“derek’s right. you’re really pretty.”
“i think that concussion and your meds are taking over,” he frowned, the compliment had come out of nowhere and it startled him.
“shut up nerd,” (y/n) pulled him in by his tie and kissed him, his face immediately blushing. “i thought you were pretty before this case and you were gazing at me earlier.”
“i don’t gaze.”
“you do too, you almost burnt a hole in the side of my head when they were trying to clean my lip.”
“whatever. it’s your turn to shut up,” spencer placed a gentle kiss to his lips, being careful of his cut, the complete opposite of how (y/n) had launched into the first one.
“my man! get him, pretty boy!” morgan’s stupid brotherly voice could be heard from the doorway.
“fuck off morgan, he’s my pretty boy now.” (y/n) flipped him off and grinned, bottom lip pulling, causing him to wince slightly.
