Spencer Reid X Elle Greenaway - Tumblr Posts

Ashamed

summary: Spencer has always felt ashamed of his autism and some local officers just make it worse. Fortunately, Elle is there to convince him otherwise.

genre: hurt/comfort

cw: spencelle (can be read as platonic or romantic), (explicitly) autistic spencer reid, internalized ableism, abliesm, use of the r-slur, meltdowns, autism viewed in a negative light, communicating through echolalia

wordcount: 1.8k

“Jesus, kid, do you ever stop talking?” 

Spencer freezes mid-sentence. He closes his mouth and lets his hands fall to his sides from where they had been moving wildly in front of him. “Sorry,” he mutters. The officer rolls his eyes and walks away. Spencer turns back to the geographical profile, wishing that a member of his team was still at the station with him.

“Didn’t know they let freaks like that in the FBI,” the officer says. His voice is quiet, he probably doesn’t realize Spencer can hear him. Spencer swallows hard and clasps his hands over his stomach so he doesn’t shake them. 

Spencer lives in a limbo of being both proud and ashamed of his autism. It allows him to recognize patterns others would miss and to communicate with witnesses and unsubs that the rest of the team is unable to. But at the same time, it’s another thing that’s different about him, another thing that’s wrong. 

He should be used to this by now. He ignores but doesn’t miss the quiet questions the police ask each other nearly everywhere they go, wondering what’s wrong with him and how someone like him managed to get into the FBI. Spencer knows that it makes him self-destructive. That it makes him push aside his health and well-being and work until a meltdown to prove that he deserves his place on his team and that he’s worthy of being listened to.

But the comments don’t stop no matter how much he throws himself into his job. He helps his team deliver the profile and hears the officers compare him to a robot. He sees the way the police and his own team members sigh in annoyance whenever he begins to talk. 

It’s worse this case than it usually is. They’re in rural Indiana and the police border on cruel. He’s a profiler, he sees the way they look at him. With disdain and disgust, like they’re worried he’ll infect them. 

Spencer always holds himself in a way that is far too still to be natural for him. He still rocks and sways and wrings his hands together but he can’t stop no matter how hard he tries. At least it’s subtle, at least that movement could be explained away by too much coffee or the eccentricities of a genius whose brain works too fast for his body to keep up. But even those movements draw disapproving glares from the officers and Spencer forces himself to stand as still as possible. He knows Elle notices. She always notices. But she doesn’t mention it and he’s grateful.

The one time he moves naturally is after he talks down the unsub before he can slit the throat of an eleven-year-old girl named Maya who moves like he does. Spencer steps to the side after cuffing the man and passing him to the officers and the rest of his team. He flaps his hands and takes deep, steady breaths. 

There’s a loud and painful-sounding whine and Spencer looks over to see Maya thrashing in the arms of the EMTs. She’s crying and screaming and trying to hit the EMTs and herself as they drag her bodily toward an ambulance. Horrified, Spencer rushes over and demands that they let her go.

An EMT gives him an incredulous look.

“She’s having a meltdown. You’re hurting her. Let her go,” he explains. 

The EMTs reluctantly release her and Maya falls to the ground, curling in on herself, rocking back and forth, and slamming her hand against her chest. 

 Spencer sinks to the ground before her and pulls a pair of bulky noise-cancelling headphones from his messenger bag. He hates carrying them around because it reminds him that he needs them, but Elle insists that he brings them because they help him. He’s grateful to her in this moment as he carefully slips the headphones over Maya’s head. Her hand freezes at her chest and her pained cries calm into whimpers.

Maya continues to rock and Spencer holds out his hands to her. Maya grunts and contorts her face in clear confusion. “I’ll help you rock,” Spencer says, just loud enough for her to hear through the headphones. “I like it when people help me rock.” 

Maya slips her hands into his and Spencer gently tugs her forward and pushes her back. Quickly, Maya’s whimpers turn to giggles and soon she’s laughing happily with a huge smile on her face. 

Spencer can feel the eyes of the officers and the rest of his team boring into him and he’s embarrassed but he pushes the feeling aside to focus on the feeling of pride for being able to help this girl. Maya’s parents arrive at the scene after a few minutes, Spencer can only assume someone called them, and they quickly rush over with Maya’s stuff. Upon seeing her parents, Maya lets go of Spencer’s hands and pushes herself to her feet to run over to them. The exchange goes quickly as her parents replace Spencer’s headphones with Maya’s and thank him profusely for saving their daughter and calming her down. 

Spencer smiles and insists he’s just doing his job. He advises them to go over to the ambulance to get Maya looked over. Spencer returns his headphones to his bag and heads toward the rest of his team where they wait by one of the SUVs, passing by a group of local officers as he walks. 

“Can’t believe the retard managed that,” one of them mutters. “It’d be pretty cool if he wasn’t such a fucking embarrassment.”

Spencer’s stomach drops and all the pride he feels is quickly replaced with burning shame. He bites the inside of his lip and rejoins his team. Morgan claps him on the back and congratulates him and Spencer puts on a fake smile and thanks him.

Spencer stays lost in thought as they grab their stuff from the precinct and hotel and drive to the airport to board the jet. He curls up on the couch and pretends to sleep for the entire flight while the officers' words throughout the case play on a loop in his head.

His entire body feels heavy with shame. Why does he have to be like this? Why does he have to be so wrong? He hates that he feels this way, but he can’t help it. Spencer knows that his autism will always be either the first or second thing people notice about him. The effort he puts into masking will never be enough. When the jet lands, Spencer doesn’t move, staying curled up toward the back of the couch with his eyes closed.

Spencer feels the couch dip as someone sits by his feet, a hand squeezes his knee and he instantly knows it’s Elle. He listens as everyone else leaves the jet.

“You move in your sleep,” Elle says softly.

Spencer opens his eyes and sits up, not facing her. Elle stays silent. Spencer opens and closes his mouth without speaking. He turns his head in the opposite direction of Elle’s body, he can’t look at her when he asks this question, if he tries he won’t be able to talk.

“Are you embarrassed by me?”

“No,” she replies and she says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. Like there’s no other answer. “Can you tell me why you think I would be?”

Spencer tries to explain but the only words that come out are the words of the officers. “‘Jesus, kid, do you ever stop talking?’ ‘Didn’t know they let freaks like that in the FBI.’ ‘Can’t believe the retard managed that, it’d be pretty cool if he wasn’t such a fucking embarrassment.’”

Elle is silent for a moment and Spencer appreciates that she doesn’t make him turn to face her. 

“Did the local police say those things?”

Spencer nods. “‘Did the local police say those things?’ They always do. Worse this time.”

“Is there a reason why you didn’t tell any of us? We would make them stop.”

“‘Fucking embarrassment,’” Spencer repeats again. “Not your problem.”

“It is our problem if they’re going to mess with someone on this team,” Elle says. “You know none of that shit is true, right?”

Spencer shrugs. “‘None of that shit is true,’” he echos. “I guess.”

“Do you think any of those officers would have been able to help Maya like you did?” Elle asks simply.

Spencer turns to look at her. “‘Like you did?’” he repeats.

“Help her calm down in a way that was safe and didn’t hurt her or anyone else,” she elaborates.

“No. The EMTs were hurting her.”

“Exactly. If the EMTs didn’t know what to do, those officers definitely wouldn’t have. None of the rest of us knew what to do either. You were the only person who was able to help her and that is because of your autism.”

“‘Because of your autism,’” Spencer echoes. “‘Can’t believe the retard managed that.’”

Elle purses her lips. “What that officer said was bullshit, what they all said was. Your autism is not an embarrassment, it is one of the many reasons you are an invaluable member of this team.”

“Many people with autism have heightened pattern recognition skills and can focus intently on a task for extended periods of time,” Spencer says.

“That’s true, but it wasn’t what I was referring to.”

“‘Wasn’t what I was referring to.’ What were you referring to?”

“You have a unique perspective on the world that allows you to see things that we miss. You’re able to understand things in a way the rest of us could never hope to, your intelligence aside. Your autism allows you to form unique connections with people that have helped us time and time again. It is the furthest thing from an embarrassment. You are the furthest thing from an embarrassment. You are an incredible asset to this team. I don’t always understand you or know the best ways to help or support you but I’m glad you are the way you are and not just for your value as an agent.”

“‘I’m glad you are the way you are.’ Really?” Spencer asks, unable to believe what Elle is saying. Unable to wrap his head around the fact that people think he has value as a person and as an agent and that his autism doesn’t subtract from that. That the way he is isn’t a bad thing.

“Really,” Elle says. “You know I don’t lie to you, Spencer.”

Spencer nods. “‘You know I don’t lie to you’,” he affirms. “Thank you.”

Elle nods and pats him on the shoulder before grabbing her bag off the floor and rising to her feet. Spencer does the same and follows Elle off the jet feeling, for the first time in a long time, that maybe there isn’t something wrong with him.

_____

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Taglist!: fill out this form if you want to be tagged when I post fics

@daryls-crossbow16 @nemobee777 @lover-of-books-and-tea

found love in a graveyard

Spencer isn’t following a ghost to the cemetery—but he might as well be.

pairing: spencer reid x elle greenaway category: angst, fluff in the end contentwarning: mention of major character death (post-nelson’s sparrow) word count: 2.9k a/n: shhh i know it’s on the nose but the title’s from found love in a graveyard by veronica falls. feels like i shot myself in the foot with this one tbh. i had s11!spencer in mind but lbr, elle would love every iteration of him :’)

masterlist

…

Thirty paces was an odd distance to become aware of someone.

Thirty paces was an odd, if not arbitrary way to measure one’s preparedness for confrontation.

But they remained thirty paces apart with the knowledge that either one could close the distance at any time.

It started at the flower shop. The speed and the gait caught Spencer’s attention; a brisk walk that hardly rustled the bouquet in her arms. Not a petal moved.

Keep reading