Never Thought I'd Meet You Like This

“I broke into people’s houses and took things, mostly food and sometimes warm or light clothes, depending on the weather. After I was well nourished, and the bruises were gone, I cleaned up and got a job, being a waitress at some small restaurant in town. It really only paid for food. After a while, I started to listen to people’s conversations. Trying to find out who was going to be gone from their house for a while. I stayed at a few houses until I came across you, and as I said before, I kept coming back because of the books,” Wendie told him. It was getting late, it had to be almost 10, and she knew that he needed to get up early.

“That’s so bizarre. No offence to you, but for only having up to 5th grade education, you are very smart,” Spencer said. After dinner, he had moved to the couch with her, so they were really close now.

“Shakespeare only had through 6th grade education, and he contributed over twenty thousand words to the English language,” Wendie countered.

“Very good. Did you read a lot as a child?” he asked.

“Yes. My mother was very persistent for me to read at least an hour a day at home. I hated it and pretended to read. But then she started to have conversations with me about it and I knew that I should probably read it at least. After I read some good books, I was hooked, I loved reading. Sometimes when he would let us upstairs, I’d offer to clean the den so I could sneak some of his books. Then he found out and punished me, and didn’t let me upstairs for months.”

“Why didn’t you ever go back to your parents?” Spencer asked, resting his head in his hand that was on the back of the couch.

“Because they think I’m dead, and that’s how I like it. I could never go back now. I’m trying to do things on my own, without their help, and I’m doing a great job, I think,” she was so stubborn and naïve.

“But you could get a GED and a job,” Spencer told her.

“What’s that?” she whispered, clearly embarrassed.

“GED stands for: General Education Development. It’s for people that never complete high school, that need a diploma to go to college to get a job,” he explained. Wendie nodded, not knowing what to say.

“But to go to college, you need to know what you’re good at and what you want to do with the rest of your life. The only thing I’m good at is breaking into houses and stealing things,” she admitted.

“You-You like to read, right? Can you write? Like, stories? Do you ever have dreams that tell stories? You could wake up in the mornings and write those down and make a story out of them,” Spencer was getting excited about this idea, and hoped that maybe Wendie would like the idea, but was almost heartbroken when he saw her shaking her head, and looking down.

“I’m like you, the only dreams I have are nightmares,” she grunted. Her brown hair fell in front of her face and hid her true emotions from the man on the couch next to her. “Am I keeping you awake? If I am then just say,” she blurted out. She didn’t want to be a bother.

“No, you aren’t Wendie, but it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to go to bed. You can take the bed-”

“No, you take your bed, it’s the last time you get to sleep in it before you leave,” Wendie said, looking up at Spencer. For the first time, Spencer really looked into her brown eyes, seeing the same hurt that he felt. He felt that they had connected on a whole new level, something that he never thought was possible.

Could it be love? To Dr. Spencer Reid, love was just chemicals in the brain working. He stopped himself from leaning in and kissing her. He stood up instead.

“O-okay. Let me get you a blanket and pillow,” he said, leaving to the hallway and getting a blanket and pillow for Wendie.

“Thank you Spencer,” Wendie said when he returned.

“Your welcome, if you need anything else, just let me know,” he informed her.

“Good night,” she told him.

“Good night,” he returned and went to bed.

XoXoX

In the morning, Spencer woke up before Wendie. He tried his best not to wake her up, and succeeded. Before he left, he loomed over Wendie’s sleeping body. He didn’t know when he was going to be seeing her again, so he leaned down and kissed her forehead before dragging his overnight bag behind him and out to his car and to Quantico.

Wendie woke up after feeling a pair of warm, soft lips pressed against her forehead. She barely opened her eyes and saw Spencer leaving. Mad at herself for not waking up for his departure, she sat up and went to the bathroom. She guessed that she should probably shower, so she got in and turned the faucet on and washed the filth off of her from the last few days.

There was something that she felt in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know what it was. She felt something similar when she saw pictures of her captor’s youngest son. She had a crush on him. Was this a crush, or was this love she felt for Spencer?

Did she love him, or his books? Was it his kindness or his dorkyness? Maybe it was all of it, she didn’t know. All she knew was that something, deep down, hurt, because he was gone. Maybe she loved his presence. She hadn’t talked to anyone like that in a long time. She only ever had the 3 other girls to communicate with, and after a while, you run out of things to talk about.

XoXoX

Spencer didn’t come home to Virginia for 13 days, 17 hours, 28 minutes and 56 seconds. Spencer Reid was actually counting. He rushed home as quickly as he could. Besides thinking about his case, he was also thinking about Wendie. He didn’t know how much money she had for food, or if she ate what little there was in his kitchen. He wondered if she was even still there. He had wanted to call numerous times, but he knew how annoying interruptions were when he was reading, and he didn’t want to bother her.

It wasn’t just the thoughts that overwhelmed him, it was his feelings, his ‘heart’. He didn’t believe in the whole ‘butterflies’ or ‘your heart skipping beats’. He never thought that someone could love him. There was a large possibility that he could develop schizophrenia. Who would waste their life taking care of someone with that?

It almost hurt, how much she missed Wendie. He knew her for less that 2 days, and he was jumping to the conclusion of love, but he couldn’t control it. He came to the conclusion that if it hurt this much, then it must be love.

He pulled up to his house and ran out of his car and into his house. Wendie was on the couch, reading one of Spencer’s psychology book from college. Wendie jumped from the sound of the door slamming open. When she looked up and locked eyes with Spencer, she smiled, excited that he was finally home.

Wendie sprung up from her spot and ran over to Spencer and flung her arms around his neck. The doctor was taken aback for a second, but wrapped his arms around her small build, holding her close. That’s when he experienced his heart skipping a beat, and the butterflies invading his stomach. Spencer pulled away slightly and placed a kiss on Wendie’s soft lips. It shocked him when she actually responded. Having gone through so much sexual abuse, he was wary about this, but it felt right.

It also shocked Wendie when Spencer kissed her. The last few days she spent reading and thinking about if she actually loved the man she had been stalking for a few months, and breaking into his house.

But none of that mattered. All that mattered was that the feeling between them was mutual.

Wendie was the one that pulled away first and looked up at Spencer, who let out a soft whine, causing Wendie to giggle.

“I’m not sure yet, but, I-I think I love you. I mean, I don’t know much about the feeling. I always thought it was just the chemicals in your brain working together-” Wendie cut him off with a quick peck.

“It’s okay Spencer. I think I love you too,” she said with a smile. Spencer grinned and leaned back down to kiss her, enjoying the feeling of butterflies and heart skipping.

Mother Teresa once said, “I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.”