Summary: You awake in a strange, unfamiliar place. Memories dance vaguely in your mind- a blurred silhouette, the faint scent of vanilla and old books, music playing softly in the background. Nothing clear, nothing certain. Who is this stranger with the bright hazel eyes? And why do you feel as though you know him?
a/n: this is an angsty, fluffy 12 part series i’ve been working on. no real warnings aside from memory loss and the emotional angst that comes with that. you can read ahead on my AO3 if you’re so inclined!
word count: 1.5k
*beep beep beep beep beep*
The rhythmic droning of beeps was the first thing you noticed when you woke up. You groggily blinked the sleep out of your eyes. How did you get here? And… where exactly was here?
The fluorescent lights were almost blinding and it took a few moments for your eyes to adjust. You could just make out a monitor to your right, the source of the steady beeping. As you shifted, you winced at the slight pull on your hand- an IV was taped to it. A hospital. Alright, that mystery was settled at least.
You tried desperately to remember how you got there, but your mind was blank. Vague memories pushed at the horizon- a blurred silhouette, the faint scent of vanilla and old books, music playing softly in the background. Nothing clear, nothing certain.
The last solid memory you had was staring out of your kitchen window, holding your cup of coffee and watching the hot summer sun rise. But now you turned to look out of the hospital window and there was no sun. The sky was white, snowflakes dancing across it.
The monitor started beeping faster as you panicked to put together what this realization meant. What it had to mean. Something awful had happened. It obviously wasn’t snowing in July in Georgia. So where were you? When were you?
There was a shuffling at the door and a doctor hurried in, smiling brightly at you. “Oh, it’s so good to see you awake.”
You pulled yourself up, groaning at the strain. “Where am I? What happened?” Your voice was raspy from disuse.
“You’re at the hospital in Quantico. There was an incident at work and you suffered from some substantial head trauma. Can you tell me your name and the date?”
You stared at the doctor blankly for a moment before responding, first telling him your name. “And it’s… well, that’s the problem. I remember it being July, but it’s snowing, so that’s obviously wrong. And I remember being in Georgia, but somehow I’m in Virginia?”
“July of what year?” The doctor’s quiet question shocked you and your eyes widened at him.
“2008?” Your answer was a whisper, the uncertainty lacing your voice.
“I’m sorry, but it’s November 15th, 2010.”
The look of sympathy on the doctor’s face caught you off guard and the beeping besides you quickened again. You looked around the room wildly, attempting to take in the impossible information he had just given you. Two years? You had lost two years of your life? This had to be a mistake. This could not be happening to you. Your vision started blurring, the room in front of you swimming. Hot, panicked tears ran down your cheeks as you attempted to take in shallow breaths.
“It’s alright, it’s alright,” the doctor spoke soothingly as he adjusted your medication. “I’m just going to give you a mild sedative to help you calm down. Take a deep breath, as deep as you can.”
The drugs were fast, and the beeping slowed down again. You took a measured breath in through your nose, exhaling slowly through your mouth. A warm haze washed over you and you looked back at the doctor, asking him the same question as before. “What happened to me?”
“You have amnesia from your head trauma. I know it’s a lot to take in, but from your scans it does look like it will only be temporary. With support from your loved ones and some techniques for recall, you should be able to regain most, if not all, of your lost memories.”
You nodded shakily, trying to wrap your mind around all of this. Loved ones. Loved ones? Who? The last you had seen of your family had been three years ago- well, apparently five years ago. “I’m in Quantico?”
The doctor nodded. “Yes, you live and work here. I’m afraid I can’t help to fill in the gaps beyond that, but your friends have been here for the majority of the past week, so I’m sure they will be able to help you out.”
Friends. Okay, you had friends. You almost laughed at the stupidity of that small thought. But, it was slightly reassuring to know that you weren’t alone here- wherever here might be. Home, you supposed. Your home. The idea was unfamiliar, strange even. You had a job- apparently a dangerous one at that, a house, friends who visited you while you were unconscious in the hospital for a week. That gave you the smallest bit of hope.
“I have to go finish my rounds, but we’ve contacted your emergency contact to let him know that you’re awake. He should be here shortly. Just push the call button here if you need anything and one of the nurses will help you out.”
You murmured your quiet thanks as he left the room, your mind reeling. There wasn’t much else you could do, confined to this tiny hospital bed. You leaned back, willing yourself to relax as much as possible. Eventually you succumbed to the heaviness of your eyelids, drifting off to sleep, dreams laden with vaguely familiar shapes and faraway voices just out of your reach.
The sound of footsteps woke you up again, and you struggled to remember where you were in your daze. The hospital. Quantico. You reminded yourself firmly of the facts, trying to ground yourself.
A figure lingered in the doorway, coming into focus as you rubbed your eyes wearily. The figure- it was a man, a tall, lanky man- moved closer to you, sinking into the chair beside you.
You studied his face for a second. He was handsome, a strong jawline and striking hazel eyes hidden partially by messy, curly hair.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake,” the man breathed out, whispering your name before leaning over you and holding your hand tightly. The touch was comforting. You detected the faintest scent of vanilla, making you almost dizzy. That smell. You remembered that smell.
You must have been lost in thought, because the man was saying something again. You just barely caught the tail end. “We’ve missed you so much. I’ve missed you so much.”
Staring at the man, you fixed your eyes on his. Your gaze was disconcerting and he squirmed in his chair for a moment.
He said your name again, his voice a tremulous question as his eyes darted back and forth across your face.
“I,” you started, “I’m sorry but… who are you?”
The man’s jaw slackened, his shoulders dropping. His eyes filled with tears almost immediately as the color left his face. There was silence between the two of you, the only sound the steady beeping of the monitor beside you.
“I’m sorry,” you said again, twisting in the bed to get a better look at this man. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad. I just- I don’t know you. Are you one of my friends?”
He bit his lip, a tear making its way down one of his cheeks. You felt the strangest urge to reach out and wipe the tear away. “I’m Spencer.”
“Hi Spencer,” you smiled at him, a tentative, watery smile. “You’re one of my friends?”
The man- Spencer, you reminded yourself- swallowed thickly. He opened his mouth, seemed to rethink his words, and closed it again. You looked at him quizzically and he finally answered. “I’m your boyfriend.”
“What?” The shock was evident in your voice, though your hand tightened instinctively around his. He glanced down at the gesture, a small smile on his face.
Spencer ran his hand through his hair, sighing shakily. His eyes met yours again and there was something strange there. You had no idea who this man was, and yet you couldn’t look away. “What do you remember?”
You told him of your last memories, of the two lost years, and you recited the facts that the doctor had given you. His face remained pale as he listened, tears still brimming in his eyes.
“He said- he said it probably won’t be permanent,” you murmured, looking down at your entwined hands. “I just need help remembering.”
“I can do that.” The sudden steadiness in his voice made you look up. It was the most sure you had heard him since this stranger had entered your hospital room.
“You’d do that for me?” Your words were shaky. “Even though- even though I don’t remember you? Us?”
Spencer smiled again, a tiny bittersweet smile. “I remember everything- enough for the both of us. And besides, I love you. I’d do anything.”
You stared at him, eyes searching his. Of all the things you had thought could happen after the impossible news from this morning, this was the last thing you had expected. This handsome stranger, his comforting touch, the familiar scent of vanilla.
The exhaustion of this unbelievable day washed over you, and your eyes felt heavy again. Your head lolled to the side, studying Spencer’s face silently. You squeezed his hand again, whispering as your eyes closed. “Please stay with me.”
You heard his voice in the distance as you drifted off to sleep. “Always.”
“It's so hard to forget pain, but it's even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.”
summary: you’re finally released from the hospital. time to go… home? wherever that is.
word count: 2.0k
The snow-covered trees zoomed by, blurring in the distance. You leaned forward in the passenger seat and pressed your nose against the glass as you studied the outside world. The doctor had released you earlier that morning, expressing hopefulness at your recovery.
Spencer was taking you home- to the apartment you shared together. You had balked at the thought at first, the notion of sharing a home you didn’t know with this man you barely knew, but you had warmed up to the idea. Just the sweet look on Spencer’s face put you at ease. If you were going to remember your life, the one you shared with him, this was a step you had to take. And oh, how you desperately wanted to remember. The hours you had spent yesterday with him and Penelope, laughing together and looking through old photographs just strengthened that desire.
Your life before, as you had come to think of it, had been fine, pleasant almost. You were not particularly close to your family, having cut off contact with the majority of them years ago for a handful of reasons, and you had only one or two people you would even consider friends. You had a job you thoroughly enjoyed and you were friendly enough with your coworkers, but you had never considered them more than close acquaintances. These people, the one in the photos, they were different. You were sure of it.
The idea of the two lost years still shook you, but the thought of these strangers, these friends, anchored you. You had the job you had so intensely wanted, you had a team that you appeared to be undeniably close with, and you had a brilliantly beautiful boyfriend who apparently loved you. What a good life to stumble into.
Spencer parked the car and you got out, closing the door softly behind you. You stared up at the apartment building with wide eyes. “We live here?” Spencer nodded nervously, clutching your bag in his hands.
You followed him through the doorway into the apartment. The familiar scent hit you, the smell of… home? You looked around frantically, eyes trying to take in everything all at once.
“Welcome home.” Spencer shifted from foot to foot as he watched you gazing around the apartment. You walked immediately to the large bookshelf, and he almost laughed at your predictability.
You ran a finger along the spines of the books, noting which were familiar and which were not. There were a good deal in other languages, and you realized that they had to be Spencer’s. He really was an entire genius.
Spencer continued to observe your exploration with a small smile as he put on the kettle for tea. It looked almost like you were looking for something in particular, though he had no idea what it could be.
You turned away from the bookshelf, looking instead at the small end table that sat besides the couch. It was a hollow, wooden thing, and you pulled the lid off almost automatically. “Aha, here!” You triumphantly pulled a thick book out from inside, a large volume of works by Edgar Allan Poe. The book was well-worn, dogeared in places with passages underlined here and there.
“How-” Spencer’s wavering voice broke you out of your trance. “How did you know that was in there?”
You looked up at him slowly, your eyes wide. “I… don’t know,” you admitted. There was a moment of silence as you stared at each other, the heavy book still in your arms. The tea kettle whistled and he turned away from you, into the kitchen. You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware that you were holding.
This was a lot. You had no idea how to explain to Spencer that you knew the book was in there. You didn’t know why you knew, but you just did. It was like there was something deep inside of you telling you exactly where it would be.
You set the book down, determined to return to exploring the rest of the apartment- your apartment. The rest of the living room was unfamiliar, though it captured that same homey feel. You wandered down the hallway to the bedroom and cracked open the door tentatively. Your heart caught in your chest at the large bed in the middle, clearly slept in on only one side. You supposed you had known deep down that the two of you shared a bed, but it didn’t hit you until it was right in front of you.
The side with the rumpled blankets was Spencer’s, that much was obvious. You sat down on the edge of the bed. There it was again. Vanilla.
You eyed the bedside table on his side. There was a framed photo of the two of you, a birthday cake in front of you. Spencer had frosting on his nose and a luminous smile. You grinned mischievously next to him, frosting on your finger as it hovered dangerously close to his face. Next to the photo sat his watch, a wallet, and a small stack of books.
You turned to the other side of the bed- your side. Your bedside table was messier, a similar stack of books on it. There was a purple lamp, magnets attached to the base. Beside it sat a small dish of rings and earrings. You picked up the dish, thumbing through the jewelry. You recognized a few of the pieces, but there were some new ones there. A garnet ring caught your eye and you held it between your fingers, studying it. It was beautiful, a simple silver band adorned with an engraved leaf.
“That’s from me,” Spencer spoke softly from the doorway. You turned to him and he had a small, almost nostalgic smile on his face. “Orange garnet, because we met in October. And for our shared love of fall and all things Halloween.”
“Oh man,” you exhaled. “I do love Halloween. Wow, Spence. You’re a true romantic.”
His face flushed red and he stammered a little at your words. “Tea’s ready.”
You followed him back to the kitchen, turning side to side as you walked, trying to see everything. This was your home. You didn’t recognize it, didn’t know it, and yet somehow it just felt right. It felt right in a way that your Atlanta apartment never had. That apartment was just a place for you to keep your things, to lay your head down at night. This felt different, like it was so much more.
Spencer motioned for you to sit down at the kitchen counter, and you perched on one of the red gingham stools there. It was adorable, exactly your taste.
He caught you looking at them. “We picked those out together at the flea market.”
You smiled, turning your attention to the grocery list on the counter. You recognized your own handwriting, but there was another set of writing, slanted and slightly wobbly. The domesticity of a shared grocery list tugged at your heart. “Oh my god, you have genius handwriting.”
Spencer let out a deep breath as he sat down beside you.
“What?”
“You- you always say that.” His eyes were watery as they met yours and you offered him a small smile. He handed you a cup of tea, warm beneath your hands.
You recognized the mug instantly, it said World’s Greatest Dad on it. “Oh wow, I still have this! This was a gift from-”
“Mia. Your best friend from the Academy.” Spencer finished for you, smiling almost apologetically at interrupting.
“Oh,” you whispered. Of course he knew that. He must know everything about you. The thought of someone knowing you so intimately unnerved you, but you took one look at his eager face and immediately felt at ease again. This was what you had always wanted, had always dreamed of. Sharing a life with somebody who accepted every part of you without reservation.
You talked and laughed together easily over your cups of tea. Spencer told you stories that made you snort with laughter, and you loved the gleam in his eye as he watched you giggling. There it was again. That same, strange urge to keep that look on his face forever.
Day turned into night, and, after curling up in the dim light with a much-loved book, you moved to stare out the living room window, curling into the loveseat. The apartment- your apartment, you reminded yourself- was on the third floor, and you had a clear view of the night sky.
“What are you looking at?” Spencer’s voice was soft again as he watched you gazing out the window.
“The stars.” You shifted in your seat, making room beside you. “Do you want to sit with me?”
Spencer nodded, sitting down cautiously, trying to keep some space between the two of you on the tiny sofa.
You turned back to look out the window. “The stars are the same. That’s what I keep reminding myself. I woke up in a different place- in a different time, for fuck’s sake. Everything about my life is different. But the stars- they’re the same stars here as they were in Georgia.”
Spencer sighed, leaning back on the loveseat. “‘The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.’”
“Carl Sagan,” you noted with a nod. He grinned at you, nodding minutely. You stared at his face for a second, again studying his bright hazel eyes, his sharp bone structure, his cute button nose that you noticed he scrunched up from time to time. You looked at his full lips, noting that he seemed to often lick them before he spoke, his tongue darting out quickly.
You didn’t know this man. And yet, somewhere deep down, it felt like you did. It felt like you had known him all your life. You shook your head at the impossible thought and turned your body towards him. “Can I- can I touch you?”
Spencer swallowed, and you noted proudly how he licked his lips as he did so. You were right. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He nodded silently instead.
You reached up your hand slowly, bringing it to rest on his cheek. He inhaled sharply at the touch, eyes closing. You traced his cheekbone with your thumb before moving your other hand to the other side of his face. The two of you sat like that for a moment, his face held in your hands. The room was silent, the air still. It felt like both of you were holding your breath. You trailed a finger down his nose and across his lips, the other hand studying his jawline. You could feel his breath on your face, the scent of vanilla intoxicatingly close.
“You really are beautiful,” you whispered, your voice shaking. A tear slid from his eye, and you wiped it away instinctively. His eyes fluttered open, and the sudden eye contact shook you. You stared at each other as tears welled up in your own eyes. One slipped down your cheek. Spencer reached up and wiped it away, mirroring your motions. This familiar, comforting touch broke the dam, and suddenly you were sobbing.
“I- I want to remember you,” you stuttered, your breath catching in your chest. “I want to remember you more than anything.”
Spencer began to cry harder, the tears coming fast down his cheeks. You laid your head reflexively on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in close. As your sobs subsided, you felt the exhaustion wash over you and your eyes closed as your head dropped to his chest and you curled tighter into Spencer. You felt the vaguest sensation of fingers running through your hair as you drifted off to sleep and it felt as though you had been there many times before.
“I think it is all a matter of love; the more you love a memory the stronger and stranger it becomes.“ -Vladimir Nabokov
summary: your first... re-introduction (?) featuring actual angel penelope garcia
word count: 1.9k
You awoke alone, the morning light shining through the window. The snow from yesterday covered the outside world and created an idyllic, peaceful scene. You glanced at the chair that Spencer had been sitting in last night. His messenger bag lay there and you breathed a sigh of relief. He was still here.
You weren’t sure why you felt this strongly about this stranger staying with you. Something about the way he looked at you, the way his hand felt in yours.
There was whispering outside of your hospital room, two voices speaking quietly amongst themselves. You could tell that one was Spencer, but the other was higher, a woman’s voice talking rapidly.
“Spencer?” you called weakly, desperate to know what was going on. His head came into view around the doorframe and he waved at you awkwardly. “Spence?” His eyes brightened when you said that, and oh, how you longed to keep that look on his face forever.
“Good morning,” he murmured, stepping into the room. He wore the same cardigan as yesterday, though it was rumpled now, and his hair stood out at wild angles. You felt that same unfamiliar urge to reach out and touch him, to smooth down his curls.
“Spencer!” hissed the second voice that you had heard from the hallway.
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that a nurse?”
“Um, no,” he admitted sheepishly. “That’s Penelope. One of our friends- and our coworker. Is it alright if she comes in?”
Alright, so you worked with Spencer- and this Penelope, whoever she was. There was one tiny piece to the vast, baffling puzzle of the last two years.
You nodded. Might as well start meeting people. It would do you absolutely no good to sit here alone and continue to freak yourself out over what had happened.
Spencer stuck his head out into the hall, motioning for Penelope to come in. A woman in a bright yellow dress and heels walked through the doorway. Her glasses were the same shade as her clothes, and she had her hair in pigtails, wrapped with pink fuzzy hair ties. She was sunshine personified and you couldn’t help but smile at her automatically.
“Hi,” she spoke quietly but with a patient smile as she moved to sit in the chair next to Spencer. “I’m Penelope.”
“Hi Penelope. I’d tell you who I am, but I guess you already know.”
Penelope nodded, her brightly colored nails gripping the bag she held in her lap. “It’s really good to see you.”
“Honestly, it’s really good to see you too,” you replied sincerely. “Even if I have no idea why.”
Her smile grew bigger at your words and you smiled again in return. The light reflected off of one of her earrings and your eye was drawn to them. One was a painter’s palette, the other a paintbrush.
“I love your earrings,” you murmured.
Penelope’s eyes widened, her hand reaching up to touch one of them. “You- you actually gave them to me.” Spencer grinned besides her as he looked between the two of you.
You chuckled lowly. “I guess I have good taste.”
“Oh that you do,” Penelope nodded eagerly in response, her blond pigtails shaking.
You looked back down at the bag she was holding. “Whatdya got there?”
“Oh,” Penelope exhaled. “Well, Spencer here told me that your doctor told him that pictures might be able to help you get your memories back. So I brought all of the photos I have of us, if you want to look at them. It’s okay if you don’t want to- I totally understand.”
You looked at Spencer for reassurance, for a reason you couldn’t quite determine. He nodded encouragingly and you smiled at him. “I think that would be great, Penelope. But first, can you guys tell me what we do for work?”
Penelope’s mouth dropped open and she whacked Spencer playfully on the side of the head. “You haven’t told her, Boy Wonder?”
“Ow!” Spencer rubbed his head dramatically, and you let out a small laugh. The noise delighted him and his eyes welled up as they met yours. You stared at each other for a moment before blinking back into reality.
“Okay, so, we work at the Behavioral Analysis Unit- do you know what that is?” Penelope spoke patiently.
Now it was your turn for your mouth to drop. “You’re fucking kidding me. The BAU? I got out of the Atlanta field office?”
“Oh, did you ever. You’ve been on our team for two years- I’m sure Genius over here can give you an exact date.”
Spencer nodded excitedly, resting his chin on his hands. “Your first day was October 21st, 2008.”
You blinked at the two of them wildly. That was only three months from your last solid memory. How had so much changed so quickly?
It was like Spencer could read your mind. “The position opened up on August 1st, and you interviewed with Hotch on August 22nd. The process was fairly straightforward from there and you began almost exactly two months later.”
You raised your eyebrow, looking first at Spencer then at Penelope. “How do you remember the exact dates?”
“Oh, angel, I meant genius quite literally,” Penelope laughed and Spencer’s face flushed red. “Our handsome doctor over here has a ridiculously high IQ, an eidetic memory, and an insane- and I mean insane- reading speed.”
“Doctor? Like 1,000 words per minute?” you asked, your voice a mixture between teasing and astonishment.
“PhD, not medical. And 20,000,” Spencer replied matter-of-factly.
“Wow,” you exhaled, “I’m dating a fucking superhero.”
Penelope snorted at your words, and Spencer let out a quiet laugh. You looked up at him again and studied his sharp cheekbones and the soft hair that fell in his face- he really was beautiful.
“Alright, show me the pictures!” You clapped your hands and the eagerness in your voice made Spencer chuckle again. The sound was like the sweetest music you had ever heard and you again felt the strange desire to make him laugh like that forever.
Penelope pulled a bright purple laptop out of her bag, propping it up on the side of the hospital bed. She clicked around for a second and a slideshow popped up on the screen with the words Badass Crime Fighters written in curly font. “Okay, so I kinda went overboard and made a whole powerpoint…”
“Oh, you absolute star. I love it already.” You leaned forward enthusiastically. “Alright, let me see!”
Penelope clicked and the next slide popped up. It was a photo of you with seven people in someone’s house- or was it a mansion? You stood near the middle, Spencer’s arm wrapped around you. Your head was leaning on his shoulder and you were smiling serenely at each other, paying no mind to the camera.
“This is the team,” Penelope explained, pointing to each person as she spoke. “That’s bossman Aaron Hotchner; our daredevil Emily Prentiss; Jennifer Jareau, but we call her JJ; then there’s you and Spencer, of course, you absolute sweethearts; my chocolate thunder Derek Morgan next to me; and our most wonderful host, David Rossi.”
Your eyes darted across the screen, taking in each face in front of you, desperate to remember them. “You didn’t tell me being smoking hot was a prerequisite to being in the BAU.”
Spencer let out a snort of a laugh, blowing his hair up out of his face.
“You doubt me, Doctor?” You smirked teasingly. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”
“That’s what I keep telling him!” gushed Penelope, laughing along with you as Spencer’s cheeks turned red.
“Show me more! More beautiful people!” The thoughts were swirling in your head as you stared at the photo on the screen. This was your life? Your friends, your coworkers? Their faces were all so inviting, their smiles warm. You ached to remember them.
Penelope clicked again and the next photo slid into view. You stood with Penelope and Spencer in this one, the three of you dressed as various iterations of characters from Doctor Who- Penelope as the 11th Doctor, Spencer as the 4th, and you as the 10th.
“Ohhh,” you cooed. “We look adorable. Spence, I love that scarf.”
“I knitted it myself,” he admitted proudly. Penelope beamed at the two of you, smiling at the easy way you used the familiar nickname before clicking to the next picture. You stood with Penelope and the two other women from the group photo, dressed casually with drinks in your hands.
You pointed at the brunette. “Emily. And that means the other blonde is…. JJ.”
“Yes, you got it! Gold star!”
You couldn’t help but laugh along with Penelope. Her enthusiasm was infectious.
“This was one of our infamous girls nights. We went dancing and had way too many margaritas. You had to drag us back to your apartment. I swear Emily was going to kill that guy who kept hitting on her, but then you pretended to be her girlfriend and he left.”
Your jaw dropped. “I did- I did what?”
Spencer smirked, nodding at Penelope. “Mhm, you came home with them and after they all passed out you woke me up with the most shameful look on your face. You scared the crap out of me and then you just blurted out, ‘I kissed Emily.’ I was so confused, but you very sloppily explained to me the creepy guy following her around and I understood exactly what you did. You always did- you always do anything for your friends. I could never be mad at that. And you were too darn cute.”
You scoffed, feeling your cheeks burning red. “Wow, we sound crazy.”
“The best kind of crazy,” Penelope nodded. She clicked to the next slide and you let out a laugh at the photo.
A man- Derek, you thought- held you up in his arms. You had your arms spread wide, almost like jazz hands, a theatrically ecstatic look on your face. Spencer stood beside the two of you, holding your feet in his hands and pretending to groan from the strain as if he were the one lifting you up. Two older men were in the photo too, one on either side. They both had their arms crossed, stern looks on their faces as they looked at the three of you. The more severe one- Hotch?- pulled off the cross look better than the other one. The second man had a slight smirk on his face. David, you reminded yourself. Dave? Rossi? You weren’t quite sure what to call him. They seemed to use first and last names and nicknames so interchangeably that your mind swam.
Penelope clicked again and the next photo filled the screen, another group shot of the eight of you. You were all dressed professionally, except for Penelope and her hot pink dress, and the casualness of your stances and lightness of your grins contrasted with the crisp dress shirts and suit jackets. Here it was, right in front of you. Your life. The pieces were coming together, the edges of your memory still foggy but slowly gaining clarity.
“Wow.” A tear slid down your cheek, smiling at the photo as you instinctively reached for Spencer’s hand. He was surprised by the motion, but responded easily by lacing his fingers through yours. “I- oh, wow. I really hope I remember you guys. You- you look like my family.”
“We are,” Spencer replied with absolute certainty.
Penelope nodded again, tears welling in her eyes. “We are, sweetie. And you’ll remember us. I’m sure of it. We’ll be there every step of the way.”
“I don't care about whose DNA has recombined with whose. When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching--they are your family.”
summary: a little backstory, a little panic- all in a day’s work
word count: 1.6k
July 2004
“Remind me why the hell we decided to do this in the middle of the summer? I swear it has got to be the hottest day of the year,” you grunted, sweat dripping down your back as you weaved through the hurdles.
“Crime waits for no one,” Mia huffed as she ran alongside you. “Besides, we need to beat Gomez and his squad. Show those boys who’s boss.”
“I already beat him in hand to hand, what more could he want?”
“I think he needs a little more ass-kicking, take him down a peg,” she said.
A whistle sounded across the yard. “Ladies! Less chit-chat, more laps.”
You exchanged a look with Mia before dashing off to the track, her not far behind you.
You were halfway through your tactical training at the Academy, and while it was the most difficult thing you had ever done, you had never been more motivated. After finishing your second degree, this one in Behavioral Psychology, you had been trying to plan your next move when you had seen them. There was a killer on the loose a town away from you, one with a penchant for young college students and ritualistic staging. You had been following the murders via the news, simultaneously worried for your own safety and fascinated by the case. A press conference caught your eye where you learned that the BAU was in town- the Behavioral Analysis Unit. You had heard of them of course, who in your field hadn’t? But it wasn’t until you attended a seminar a few months later by the man you had seen on the news, Jason Gideon, that you knew. This was what you were meant to do. You made it your life’s mission to get on that unit, whatever it took.
Mia was one of the first classmates you met at the Academy, and the two of you had become friends almost instantly. You were paired up for one of the first drills, and you had both reveled in the fact of being the only all-female team to make it through. Your shared drive- that and your love for baking, musicals, and all things ghost related- had bonded you from that moment on. You couldn’t imagine life without her.
You made it back to the dorm with Mia after a grueling day of defensive drills and scenarios, both drained. Flopping onto the floor beside you, she let out an exhale. “What. the. hell.”
You smirked at the way she had her arm dramatically across her forehead, her legs sticking up on the side of her bed. The feeling was completely mutual.
She propped herself up on her elbow, wiping her hair out of her face. “Aren’t you exhausted?”
“Obviously, Mee.”
“You don’t look exhausted. You look… psychotic,” she said.
You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes. “If you’re trying to profile me, I think you might be way off.”
“Hey now,” Mia snickered, kicking you lightly in the shin. “You’re the one who wants to be a profiler. I just want to be on the good old goon squad, busting down doors and shit. I don’t need to know anything about that psychosis crap. But either way you look psychotic.”
You looked down at your sweaty outfit, covered with grass, mud, and other various stains from the day. There was a tear in your pants from when you had tackled the mock-unsub and single-handedly taken him down during a drill, much to Gomez’s dismay. You could feel your hair matted with mud from the takedown, and you saw yourself through Mia’s eyes. The bright smile on your face definitely didn’t match just how beat up and worn out you looked, but you couldn’t seem to keep it off your face.
“I’m just happy, Mee. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be. Exactly what I’m supposed to be doing.”
“You’re gonna do great things, buttercup.” Mia lifted a fist out to you, dramatically sighing with the effort.
You bumped it with yours, that same grin still on your face. “We both are.”
—————
Present Day
You pressed yourself into the corner of your room, arms wrapped tightly around your legs. You could feel a panic attack coming on- your breath was coming out ragged and your vision was blurring. The events of the past few days had finally caught up to you. The compartmentalization that you so often used when things went wrong was failing you. This was just too much, more wild than you had ever had to deal with before.
What was real? Did you even know anymore? More to the point- would you ever know? The possibility that you might never remember threatened to suffocate you.
Spencer came back into the room, taking one look at you and dropping to the floor beside you. “Hey, hey, look at me.”
You started to shake, your chest heaving as you sobbed. “I can’t breathe, Spence. I-I can’t breathe. It hurts.” Hot tears ran down your face and you felt a warm hand on your cheek.
Spencer whispered your name at first before repeating it more forcefully, turning your face towards him. “Look at me.”
You were looking right at Spencer, but it was hard to make out his features, your vision still swimming. “It hurts,” you whispered, still gasping for air.
“You’re having a panic attack,” Spencer murmured. “You’re safe, you’re here in our apartment. You’re with me.” He meant well, of course he did, and you were sure that he had used the same words to ground you before, but given the current circumstances, it did little to help you.
“I-I don’t know you,” you cried, the thought just serving to panic you more. “I don’t know anything.”
A look of anguish flashed through his eyes, but he concealed it quickly- too quickly for it to be anything but forced, practiced even. “Can you breathe with me? Take a deep breath.” He counted to five, breathing in deeply and motioning for you to do the same.
You took a shaky breath, your hand gripping the one that Spencer held on your face. You were squeezing it so hard that you were sure he must be in pain, but he made no move to remove his hand from your grasp. He repeated the breaths in and out, and you mirrored him as you tried to control your breathing.
Spencer wiped the tears from your face as you hiccuped, choking back a sob. “What do you need?”
“I need space,” you gasped, “I need Mee.”
Spencer nodded, handing you your phone from the bedside table. “Take another breath, angel. Call her. I’ll be right outside.”
You grabbed your phone from him and nodded your thanks, your breaths slowly becoming steady. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading towards the bedroom door. You smiled weakly as he closed the door before dialing a number you had known by heart for the last six years.
“Oh buttercup, I’m so glad to hear from you.” The familiar voice on the other end was so immediately comforting, you heaved a sigh of relief, your arms finally relaxing around your legs.
“Mee,” you cried. “Mee, thank god.”
“Spencer told me what happened, I was so worried about you. I’m sorry I haven’t called, I wanted to give you your space until you were ready. How are you doing?”
“You know Spencer?”
You hadn’t even considered the possibility, these two worlds colliding. They felt like entirely different universes. This somehow made it seem more real. If Mia knew Spencer, it was real. You desperately wanted it to be real. You needed it to be.
Mia let out a sad laugh. “Of course. You haven’t stopped talking about that boy since the day you met him. I had to meet him to give my approval, obviously.”
“Oh Mee, it’s so good to hear your voice. I can’t believe this is happening. What the hell is happening?!” You paused, considering the distance of the past two years. “We’re still friends, right? We still talk? I will never forgive myself if we’re not still friends.”
She scoffed. “Hey now, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. I’m still in the LA field office though, so we don’t see each other very often. But we talk on the phone at least every week. And we visit when we can- I met Spencer one of my first trips out there, right after you started dating.”
“God. I wish- I wish I remembered anything.”
What had it been like- two of your favorite people meeting? You liked to imagine that it was wonderful, that Mia and Spencer had gotten along straight away. What if you never knew?
“I know, it’s gotta be a lot. I can’t even begin to imagine. But hey- Spencer said you were being your usual badass self when it happened. Not that that surprises me in the least.”
“He said that?”
“Not in so many words, but we all know you’re a badass. Always have been.”
It only took a few minutes of talking with Mia for you to be able to calm down completely. The two of you talked for the better part of an hour, laughing over tales of the Academy and your time together. Mia told you a little bit about what had been happening the last two years, but you were grateful that she kept bringing it back to a time you remembered- a time you knew. The comfort of talking to someone you knew, someone you actually, truly knew, was like no other. You could have cried from the sheer relief of it.
There was a pause before you spoke again. “Mee? Am I happy? Here, with Spencer? In this life?”
The laugh on the other end was joyous. “Of course, buttercup. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you happier- even that time you kicked Gomez’s ass.”
“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature.”-Jane Austen
Jesus bids us, “ Continue in my love.” (John 15:9) And what exactly does Christ’s kind of love look like? He sums it up for us in Luke 6:27-28: “Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who despitefully use you.” The good news is, we don’t have to look far for an opportunity to put this command into practice. Nor must we do any of this in our own strength. God’s empowering grace enables us to forgive offenders, to extend kindness in response to rudeness, to show mercy to the unmerciful, and to point unbelievers to a Savor who sees them, knows them, and loves them enough to die for them. #jesuslovesme #thisiknow #forthebibletellsmeso #welovebecausehefirstlovedus https://www.instagram.com/p/CLH4XdJnlvx/?igshid=4bpgvbty73m0
While cleaning the top of the fridge with Madre to finally take it out the house, I found this binder clip and smiled before saying, "Oh, yes, He does." #jesuslovesme #thisiknow #hurricanelaura2020 #HurricaneLaura #pandemicane https://www.instagram.com/p/CFkl3hjD1QH/?igshid=1dnkun7zc1ujo
