❝But if these years have taught me anything it is this: you can never run away. Not ever. The only way out is in.❞

JUNOT DIAZ

✩

1.6 : victim mentality

SUNLIGHT STREAMING THROUGH A CRACK IN THE CURTAINS IS WHAT WAKES FIN THE NEXT MORNING. Ever so carefully, attempting not to wake Spencer, who is curled around her like a koala, she rolls over and checks the clock on her nightstand. It's nearly eight o'clock, which means they both slept almost eleven hours. Fin hasn't slept that long in God knows how long, and a tiny smile creeps across her face when she realizes she didn't have any nightmares, either.

Thank God it's Saturday.

Fin lays there for a while, just listening to Spencer's gentle breathing, feeling the weight of his head against her chest, and then her stomach growls tellingly. She hasn't eaten in almost twelve hours, which means the growling is only going to get louder and more intrusive.

So very carefully, Fin lifts Spencer's head and slides out from underneath him, moving as quietly as possible. He needs this rest, and although he probably wouldn't mind waking up now, Fin wants him to get as much sleep as possible. Maybe she can even have breakfast ready by the time he's awake. Coffee, at least.

Freshly changed into a fresh t-shirt and sweats, Fin pulls two coffee mugs from the kitchen cabinet, humming softly to herself, and turns the coffee machine on, setting it for two cups. She wonders what Spencer would like for breakfast. There's not that much food in the house, but knowing him, he won't want to go out, and Romero would probably be pretty pissed off if Fin ordered food to this extremely secret safe house.

Although... Fin grins slyly. An idea's just popped into her head. She could ask one of the agents to go out for her. Romero should have gone off shift around four this morning, which means his replacement is either Kaufman or Varga... Fin would prefer Varga. He's a big softie and would definitely go out for donuts if she asked. Spencer would love donuts.

So she knocks on the bedroom door on the opposite side of the house, waiting for a deep voice to say, "Come in," and lo and behold, there's Varga, sitting in the chair in the corner, reading a book. Fin squints at the title: Band of Brothers by Stephen E. Ambrose. Stereotypical, but respectable. Ambrose is a damn good writer.

Varga looks up from his book, eyebrows raised. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." Fin smiles at him.

"Your boyfriend behaving?"

Fin opens her mouth to say that Spencer's not her boyfriend, but then she stops. They're not official–really, they never have been–but she'd much rather live with it than explain their convoluted situation to Varga. "Um, yeah. Could you do me a favor?"

"Depends on the favor," Varga replies, closing his book and setting it on the table beside him. "What do you need?"

"Breakfast. Specifically donuts. And there aren't any donuts in the house." Fin gives Varga a cute, puppy-eyed smile. "I was wondering if you might be willing to go out and get some donuts for me? You would definitely be allowed to have some."

"You want me to leave you here alone and go get you donuts?" Varga quirks a brow. "When the whole point of me being here is so that you're not alone?"

"There's an agent out front, and Spencer and I both have guns," Fin counters, hands on her hips. "I think we'll be fine for half an hour. I'm buying, so get whatever you and the other guy want."

Varga looks down for a moment, then sighs and fishes a notepad out of his pocket. "Write down what you and the boyfriend want. Remember the éclairs are mine."

"Thanks, Simon." Fin grins up at him. "You know, you're not always a total asshole."

"That's a comforting thought," Varga grumbles, pushing past her to get to the doorway.

Fin makes sure to write down that she wants a blueberry donut and an apple cider donut, remembering fondly the Saturday mornings in the fall, sitting on the kitchen counter, covered in cinnamon sugar, while she, Ollie, and Lars devoured her entire batch of apple cider donuts before their parents even woke up. Spencer is a creature of habit, however, and he'll only want a chocolate glazed donut with sprinkles. The sprinkles are important.

With more grumbling, Varga accepts Fin's list and her money and drives off in the nondescript government SUV, and Fin heads back into the kitchen, her stomach growling excitedly in anticipation of the sugar high she's about to have.

Her phone buzzes, so she pulls it out and looks at the screen. It's a text from Lars: Not busy atm, call me?

It has been a while since they talked, so Fin settles in on the sofa and presses the CALL button. Lars picks up on the second ring. "Hey! How's life in the Land of the Free?"

"Hello to you, too," Fin laughs, leaning back against the arm of the sofa. "It's...as good as it can be. It's hard without Emily here, but I'm doing okay. How's Germany treating you?"

"Like a bitch," Lars groans. "The weather is absolutely incredible and I'm not allowed to go anywhere. It's a literal crime."

"I thought they backed off on your security." Fin frowns. "Did they ramp it up again?"

"They're taking precautions because she's been so quiet on your end," Lars replies with a sigh. "At least, that's what they're telling me. There's no way for them to know if she knows where I am, so until she acts out in America, they can't be too cautious."

"That sucks," Fin says. "I'll call Blair this week and ask her if they'll at least let you outside with supervision."

"I won't get my hopes up, but it'd really be nice to go shopping or get coffee for once." Lars blows a breath out, and Fin can hear the sounds of quiet German in the background.

"Are you watching TV?"

"Yeah, it's this game show where they try to cut things perfectly in half. I don't understand shit, but it's nice to have in the background. What's going on in your world today? Anything exciting?"

"Thankfully, no. We don't have a case, so I got to sleep in, and I convinced one of the agents to go get donuts for Spencer and I." Fin slaps a hand over her mouth, realizing what she just said. "Shit."

"Wait a minute." Lars' tone is excited, almost panicked. "Did you just say 'Spencer and I'? Did he sleep over?"

"No?"

"You bitch, are you two back together?"

"God, Lars, don't be so dramatic." Fin rolls her eyes. "Not technically, but it's been really hard on both of us lately. We're just...leaning on each other, I guess."

"You mean you're in love and can't stay away from each other."

"Lars!"

"You're an idiot sometimes, you know that?" Lars laughs quietly. "I mean, the fact that a tall, gorgeous genius who's totally in love with you is just willing to take you back after you abandoned him for eight months with no contact, and I mean, pursuing you, and you can't even admit you still want to be with him? You're a total fucking idiot."

"I can admit it," Fin replies softly. "I just can't let it happen."

"Why not?"

"Because every minute I spend with him, all I can see is Esther holding a gun to his head. He's in danger because of me, and Nick and Mrs. Wu are just more proof that I can't keep him safe. But he just won't stay away."

"Because he loves you, right? He won't stay away because he loves you?"

Fin doesn't respond.

Lars sighs heavily. "And I'm guessing you still haven't told the others about it yet, right?"

"No," she whispers.

"You know what Benjamin Franklin said. 'Those who would give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.'"

"That's not–"

"Fin, you're willing to give up love and friendship and family just for a little safety? That's bullshit and you know it. Look where trying to protect us got Ollie. Look where it got Dad. Instead of just going to the cops, they tried to handle it themselves. And it got them killed. If any one of us had just called CPS, Mom would've been in jail a million years ago and none of this would've happened. But we didn't."

"Don't call her that," Fin whispers, swallowing hard. "She doesn't deserve it."

"Look, Fin, I've been to a lot of therapy in my life. A dozen different therapists, a million little notepads, and they all tell me the same thing. You can't be a victim your entire life."

"I'm not–"

"Oh, my god, stop. You have to stop blaming other people for your own issues. Yes, our mother ruined our childhood, and yes, no kid should ever have to testify against their parent, or watch their dad and brother die, but at some point, you have got to fucking grow up and take responsibility for yourself. It's not Mom's fault that you can't trust people, it's not Nick's fault you can't be in a healthy relationship, and it's not their fault that you compartmentalize and don't let anyone in. Maybe they caused it, but you should've been over this years ago. You should've healed and grown the fuck up."

Fin wants to scream into the phone, to shout that Lars is wrong, that everything she's saying is a lie, but Spencer is sleeping, so she can't yell, and Lars is right. She's right and it hurts like hell. So she keeps her mouth shut.

"I'm not trying to make you angry, Fin," Lars says quietly. "But having a victim mentality doesn't keep Mom from taking away the people you love. It just keeps you away from the people you love. So please, for the love of God, stop being an asshole and realize that at the very least, your team deserves to know what they're up against. And if they love you, all they want is to help you."

"I know," Fin whispers, blinking back tears of anger and pain and years of shoving down emotion. "I know they do."

"So let them. It's okay to not be fine, Fin."

And with those words, the words she said to Hotch only twelve hours ago, Fin breaks down into tears, sobbing into her hand, attempting to stay quiet so she doesn't wake Spencer. She knows Lars is right, she knows it, and yet it's as though there's a lock in her mind, keeping her from being free. And no one put it there but her.

"I miss Nick," Lars says softly. "I miss him all the damn time. He was like my brother. He got me clean, helped me realize I was looking at the world wrong. But I don't regret the time we had together, even if it meant he was in danger. That's no one's fault but hers. And she's going to pay for it."

Fin gasps for air, her shoulders shaking as she struggles to breathe deeply, the tears still flowing, soaking the neckline of her shirt as she scrubs her face roughly.

"Talk to them, Fin. Let them help. And don't push Spencer away. You don't ever know how long you have with the people you love." Lars takes a deep breath. "I love you. Call me again soon."

And she hangs up the phone.

Fin covers her face with her hands, a fresh wave of sobs wracking her body as she thinks about Emily. Knowing there are so many things that she, Spencer, Morgan, Hotch, all of them wish they'd said to her, and now she's gone, and she's never coming back. She couldn't do that to Spencer.

"Hazel?"

A familiar voice, thick with sleep, pierces Fin's thoughts. She uncovers her eyes, looks up at Spencer, who's standing in the hall, hair tousled, blinking the sleep from his eyes, and attempts to wipe the tears away before he can tell she's been crying.

But the minute he sees the tear tracks and the red rim under her eyes, Spencer's on the sofa next to her, arms open. "Sweetheart, come here."

Fin lets him hold her, burying her face into his t-shirt, feeling his heartbeat against her cheek, his hand in her hair. And for the first time in more than a year, she lets the walls come down fully. Bares herself to him. Lets him see the scars, not just on her body, but on her heart.

"Spencer, I'm so tired," she whispers into his chest, her voice shaky. "I'm so tired of this."

"Of what, Hazel?" Spencer asks, the words vibrating against her cheek, rumbling in his chest.

"Hiding. Lying. Pretending I'm okay and I can do this on my own, because I can't." Fin swallows another sob, resisting the urge to collapse into tears again. "I need you. I need you to stay with me. I can't do it alone anymore."

"You never had to." Spencer pulls away from her, tilting her chin up gently. "You were never alone. And I was never going to leave." He leans down and kisses her softly, a careful brush of his lips against hers. "I'm right here."

"I want you to be here forever," Fin says, resting her forehead against his. "I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. I want you always."

"Believe me when I tell you I'll never leave." Spencer's eyes bore into hers, serious and bright. "I want you always, too."

Fin kisses him again, cupping his face, pulling him close. He can't be close enough to her; they must be intertwined at the soul, bound together by fate, unable to be torn apart. If soulmates exist, if destiny is real, then Spencer is both at once. Her soulmate and her destiny.

"I ordered donuts," Fin says, pulling away from Spencer, their noses centimeters from touching. "I sent one of the agents to get them. I got your favorite."

"You're perfect." Spencer kisses the tip of her nose, smiling softly. "Let's do this every Saturday. Start a tradition."

For the rest of our lives, Fin wishes, and she sends a silent prayer up to the heavens, hoping someone up there will have mercy on her.

~

sooo a little bit of a heavy chapter this time, but at least fin's pulling her head out of her ass finally and letting spencer in! who knew lars would be the voice of reason...