Make It out Alive

I walked into the conference room after chatting with JJ. Hotch, Spencer and I were going to interview a serial killer in an asylum in North Carolina.

"Bryson, it's just going to be you and Reid
on this. Jack is sick, and I don't want to leave him alone while Haley is sick too," Hotch said, popping his head inside while I gathered case files.

"Alright. Tell Jack and Haley to get well soon," I told him with false cheer. I still felt cold and hollow without Mom, but I got good at putting a mask on.

I met Spencer at his desk and followed him out to a Bureau SUV. I sat in the passenger's seat, putting on my seatbelt and crossing my hands in my lap.

Silently, Spencer started the engine and pulled out, getting on the interstate. I stared out the window.

"Polly?"

"Mmm?"

"Can we try again?" Spencer asked, and when I glanced at the wheel and noticed his hands were shaking.

"You mean dating?"

"Yes."

I sighed. "Spence..."

"Please, Polly," he pleaded.

"I've missed you, you bastard," I told him lightly, smiling a bit.

"Not going to act like I didn't deserve that. I should have called or something."

"You should have. Especially when you landed, I was having awful dreams of 9/11 and zombies on planes," I sighed, smiling.

He laughed nervously, not sure if I was joking or not.

"Dinner later so I can nag you to death and then back together?"

"I would love to," he said with a grin.

"Let's go interview a serial killer!" I said brightly, still not myself, but I felt better that the conflict with Spencer was resolved.

"Actually.."

"What?"

"Hotch and I kind of planned this so you and I could talk alone..."

"You sneak!"

"It worked, though," he joked.

I sighed. He took a hand off the wheel and took mine and squeezed. I smiled at him, and things seemed to feel a little better.