❝In people's lives I want to be that which does not hurt.❞

MARINA TSVETAYEVA

✩

4.2 : closer

THE FLIGHT HOME FROM THE PRISON IS COMPLETELY SILENT. Neither Hotch nor Fin can bring themselves to speak. Fin brought a book to read, but she can't focus on anything else. Hotch is just staring out the window, unseeing, chin resting on his hand and eyes narrowed.

Fin's running over every detail in her mind, how Esther could possibly have contacted Arnold. She must know Foyet, because if she'd used any combination of her known aliases, the CIA would have noticed and Fin would've known. And how could she know Foyet? They were never in prison together, and as far as Fin knows, have been on the run in entirely different areas of the country–until now.

And it begs another question, one which Fin has been rolling over and over in her mind since Nick was killed: How did Esther get out of prison? In order to be paroled, she had to serve at least twenty-five years, and it's only been twelve. A prison escape is nearly improbable... but not impossible.

And somehow, after leaving prison, Esther was able to find out her last name, despite their changing it. Able to find out how they knew Nick. Where he lived. Where she lived.

Where she lives.

Fin inhales sharply. Arnold mentioned her "boyfriend". Foyet only wants Hotch; he's made that very clear. He doesn't care about the rest of them.

Which means that it's exactly what she was afraid of: Esther knows about Spencer.

And she knows Foyet. Which means she knows about Hotch.

Rossi.

JJ.

Penelope.

Morgan.

Emily.

Everyone.

The plane can't land fast enough for Fin. The minute they touch down, she's up, gathering her blazer, her bag, and the book she never touched. She texts Spencer: Just touched down.

He texts back: Already here.

Fin turns to Hotch. "Hotch, I'm really tired. Do you mind if I go straight home? I'll catch up on paperwork tomorrow morning."

Hotch, who was not paying attention at all, nods. "Mmhm. Fine."

So Fin sprints down the steps to the tarmac and collides into Spencer's arms. He stumbles a bit, his arms flying to her waist. "Hey, hey, hey. I've got you."

"I missed you," she whispers, hands shaking as she pulls him closer.

"Is everything okay?" Spencer doesn't pull away, tucks his chin into her hair.

"Fine."

Spencer takes her bag, even though she protests, and limps to the car, throwing it into the backseat and opening her door for her. He still does all this, even with a crutch, and even in the fog she's in, Fin can't help but smile a little. What a gentleman.

"So," Spencer says, shutting his own door and starting his car, "what happened?"

Fin starts from the beginning, explaining how she had to flirt with Arnold to get him to talk, then the conversation with Hotch–but she leaves out the very last part. Esther says hello.

"And then what happened?" Spencer asks, frowning as he pulls into the parking lot of his apartment complex.

"That was it. We left the prison and drove to the airfield."

Spencer stops the car and turns to her. "Hazel–"

Fin winces. She hears Arnold say her name in the back of her mind. Esther says hello.

Spencer frowns. "What aren't you telling me?"

Fin opens her door and gets out, slamming it a little harder than she intended. "Nothing. That's it."

"Stop lying to me." Spencer adjusts himself on his crutch, carrying her bag under his free arm, and looks at her across the hood of the car. "Please."

"I'm not–"

"You're still lying to me." Spencer hands her the key to the apartment and they put the conversation on hold as they make their way slowly up the stairs, his arm around her shoulders as he limps along. Fin knows it's killing him to depend on her this way, but he knows he needs someone.

When they reach the top of the stairs, Spencer exhales and turns back to her. "Hazel. I can't help you if you don't let me in. Please talk to me."

The gentle way he says it, the look in his eyes... Fin shoves the key into the lock and practically slams the door open, wanting to be inside as soon as possible before the tears come.

Spencer walks with her to the sofa, loosening his tie, and the words come tumbling out before they even sit down. Fin tells him everything that Arnold said, everything she's thought about since then, and after a short pause: "Foyet knows my mother, Spencer. And my mother knows about you. She knows about you and Derek and Emily and JJ and everyone at the BAU. And somehow she and Foyet knew I'd be at that prison. I don't know how and I can't figure it out and–"

Spencer takes her by the upper arms and pulls her gently against his chest, threading his fingers into her hair. "I'm so sorry, Hazel," he whispers into her hair. "I'm so sorry."

Fin lets one shuddery sob escape and then it's over: The tears she's been holding back for what feels like days pour out like a hurricane. She holds onto Spencer like a lifeline, burying her face into his chest, and he doesn't let go. He pulls her closer, kissing the top of her head and rubbing her back gently, and he never lets go.

"Every time I close my eyes, all I see is her hurting one of you," Fin whispers, when she finally catches her breath. "And it seems like she's getting closer all the time."

"That won't happen." Spencer's arms tighten around her, his fingers tracing shapes on her back. "We'll catch her before she gets that close."

"I can't do it again, Spencer. I can't watch her hurt people I love–"

"And you won't." Spencer puts a hand under her chin, tilting it so she has to look into his eyes. "Hazel, there's nothing I want more than to see that woman burn for what she did to you, and I'll be the first person to do what has to be done to put her away forever. But this is what she wants. She wants you to worry. She wants you to think about her–"

"Then she's doing a damn good job." Fin sits up, runs her hands through her hair, over her eyes. She feels like she's aged twenty years in the past few hours.

"I think we should tell the team–"

"No." Fin shakes her head fervently. "Absolutely not."

"Hazel, they could help us find her–"

"Spencer, I told you: Foyet contacted Karl Arnold! My mother was just an added bonus. He's targeting Hotch and pointedly so. I can't have them focused on anything else. Foyet's our primary concern."

"We could at least have Garcia looking at aliases or something," Spencer volunteers softly.

"I have some contacts at the CIA helping out with that," Fin replies stiffly. "They're also keeping an eye on Lars for me. If Esther does anything to try and get to Germany, they'll have her before she sets foot anywhere outside the States."

"Just...think about telling them?" Spencer brushes her hair away from her face, his fingers gentle against her skin.

Fin nods, resisting the strange urge to pull away from him.

"Okay. Why don't you go take a shower and I'll order takeout, and we can watch a movie? Does Indian sound good?"

She nods, even though she's really not hungry, and Spencer smiles softly. "That's my girl." He slides his hand behind her neck and pulls her close, pressing his lips to hers gently.

Fin kisses back, closing her eyes and taking in the familiarity of him. His hands slide into her hair and tug gently, and she inhales sharply against his mouth. He smiles against her lips and trails kisses away from her mouth, down her cheek to her jaw, from her jaw to her ear.

Fin gasps as he kisses a particularly sensitive spot beneath her jawbone, a nerve she didn't know existed, one that sends a shiver down her spine. "Spencer–"

And he pulls away, eyes wide. "Sorry, I–Is this okay?"

Fin smiles sleepily. He's always concerned about pushing boundaries, making her uncomfortable. No other guy she's ever met has ever worried about those things. "Spence, you're fine. It's just–I'm not used to...anyone ever caring about how I felt, you know?"

Spencer's eyes soften. He kisses her gently on the lips once more and whispers, "You're beautiful. Go take your shower."

Fin grins, kisses him on the tip of his nose, and reluctantly gets up off the couch, padding down the hall to the bathroom.

The hot water feels like heaven against her skin, washing away the hours spent at the prison, the conversations with Arnold, the news about her mother... Fin lets the water run over her face, screwing up her eyes against it, feeling it wash every inch of stress she's been through in the past few hours into the drain.

And when she finally musters the strength to turn off the water and climb out of the shower, the smell of chicken curry envelops her like a warm blanket. She pulls on a very soft red striped sweater–yes, it's Spencer's, obviously–and a pair of sweats, squeezes the last of the water out of her hair, and pads out of the bathroom into the kitchen, where the delicious smell of curry is wafting from.

Spencer's leaning against the counter, wearing a white t-shirt and those old plaid pajama pants, eating steaming chicken out of a takeout box, and when he sees Fin, his eyes soften. "I haven't worn that sweater in a long time."

"It smells good," Fin says, walking over and snagging another box of curry from the counter. "Like you."

"I never knew I smelled like anything," Spencer says around a mouthful of chicken, raising his eyebrows thoughtfully.

"So," Fin pops a bite of chicken into her mouth, looking up at him, "what are we watching?"

"Anything you want." Spencer smiles sweetly. "You choose."

"Anything?" Fin smirks evilly, then hands Spencer his crutch. "Come on, pretty boy. It's time to watch Pride and Prejudice. This movie single-handedly got me through my senior year of college."

They sit on Spencer's sofa and eat their chicken curry while the movie begins–Fin forbids Spencer from pointing out all the differences from book to movie after about three minutes–and then, when they're both done eating, Fin lies down, kicking her legs across Spencer's lap and wrapping her arms around one of his amazingly soft pillows.

Then Spencer pushes the pillow out of her arms, and Fin looks up to argue with him, but then he lies down on her stomach, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling into her sweater. "You smell good," he mumbles, looking up at her through his lashes, chin resting on her stomach.

Fin smiles down at him. It's incredible that just an hour ago, she was worried about Esther, and now the most beautiful man in the entire world is hugging her waist and watching a period romance movie with her. A moment of peace in chaos.

Spencer tightens his hold on her waist and rests his head on her stomach, turning back to face the movie, and Fin runs her hands through his hair, playing with his curls and massaging his scalp gently.

After about ten minutes, Fin notices Spencer's grip on her waist loosens and his head is a little heavier on her stomach. She leans around and almost laughs when she sees he's snoring softly, completely asleep. It's barely ten o'clock, and if he falls asleep now, he'll be awake until four a.m. As it is, Spencer struggles with insomnia a lot. If Fin had a nickel for every time she woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't in bed, she'd probably have at least a hundred dollars by now. There's too much going on in his brain sometimes–well, all the time, but especially at night. It's a battle to get him to sleep through the night, but it's been getting better.

So Fin gently shakes Spencer by the shoulder, careful not to jostle him too much. "Hey. Sleepyhead."

He blinks awake slowly, then looks up at her sleepily. "Did I...fall asleep?"

Fin laughs softly. "Let's go to bed."

She helps him up off the sofa, hands him his crutch, and leaving the mess in the kitchen for morning, they walk slowly down the hall to the bathroom. There's something about brushing your teeth next to someone that feels oddly intimate, and especially when he's extremely hot.

Spencer climbs into bed first, leaning his crutch against the wall, and Fin crawls in beside him, already smiling. A horrible day has turned into a peaceful night in a matter of hours, and it's all because of Spencer.

"Good night, Hazel," Spencer whispers, kissing her softly on the lips, and then pulls her against his chest, his hands slipping beneath her sweater and tracing gentle shapes on her stomach, tucking his chin into her shoulder.

Fin sighs into the darkness, closing her eyes and feeling only Spencer's hands against her bare skin, the intimacy of now. Esther can do nothing to ruin this moment, and that's all that matters.

~

i had to include the red sweater from s1 and i'm not sorry about it. i'm just honestly obsessed with that sweater and so now fin gets to steal it :)

also fin and spencer deserved some fluff after everything that's happened the past couple of chapters, so i felt like i could be nice. especially because of what's coming....

t-minus ten chapters till the end !