I REGRET STAYING OUT LATE. My internal clock waking me up at five in the morning as usual despite my only four hours of sleep. I sit on the kitchen counter and take some medication, drinking a large glass of water as I wait for the pressure in my head to release. My eyes close and I lean my back against the wall crossing my legs over the counter.

Last night was so fun, more fun than I've had for a while, but that does nothing to help ease the migraine that soon comes after my body refuses to fall back asleep. So to a degree I regret it. But I also don't.

Today I have to go back to work with the BAU.

I have to see Penelope, Emily, and JJ, who by now have probably started to question my place in their unit. I have to see Aaron, who knew about my absence  and that I would be helping another department, yet he chose to lie about it to everyone. I'll see Spencer, who knows I was helping another department, but knows nothing about my night with the girls. I have to see Morgan and Rossi, who are oblivious to everything, or so I hope.

A sigh passes my lips at the thought. Things are getting so complicated. I wish I could come forward and stop living in a life that doesn't feel like my own. Stop lying. Stop pretending. Stop living in fear.

"This is your life now. You can't trust them. You can only trust yourself. You made this decision. No one else is to blame but yourself. Do your time and live with the consequences."

My own muffled yet harsh voice plays back in my head. I had chanted those angry words the day I made the mistake that changed my life into this mess.

And I was right. I can't trust anyone. Not the team, not Spencer, not even Aaron Hotchner.

"You should have never have told him what you were doing yesterday." I whispered to myself, partly to remember, partly to test how my head would feel with the added presence of noise.

They are getting too close.

He is getting too close.

I'm letting Spencer Reid get too close to me. I like being around him and that makes things even more difficult. I need to stop.

He's just being nice, he doesn't know the things you've done, he doesn't know who you are. He only knows who you're pretending to be, he only sees what you're pretending to do.

This isn't his fault— it's mine.

I was friendly with Garcia, and look what's happened with that.

"How come the FBI data- computer thing, says you don't exist?"

I shake my head and snap the hair tie against my wrist.

The pain in my wrist causes me to open my eyes, accidentally catching my hazy reflection in the windowpane. My curls are pulled through, making my hair extremely frizzy and huge.

With a sigh I force my legs to swing off the counter, jumping down to take a shower. The icy water stinging my skin and numbing my thoughts.

After showering I scrunch some curl cream into my partially dry hair, and change into some fresh clothes. Thick pair of jeans, long sleeved turtleneck and a burnt orange jacket. Seeing as it is extremely cloudy today I reach for the viridian colored scarf that Spencer had made for me.

"More like you... yoouuu love the one that gave you the scarf."

Penelopes slurred words give me pause, my hand stilling before I could grab it. If I wear it, I could be drawing more attention. And if they find out about last night they could take it the wrong way, making things that much more complicated.

"—yoouuu love the one that gave you the scarf."

No I don't. I don't.

Sure, I've warmed to his company. Growing fond of his voice, his eyes, his smile. But that doesn't equate to love— and it can't.

The last time I let someone get really close... I ended up in this situation. He reeled me in with praise, affection, and 'acts of love' that I was blind to his true nature and intentions. He gave me so much love that it seemed to make up for the lack of it my entire life. He made me comfortable, silvery words lulling me right into his trap. And here I am six years later, still stuck beneath his thumb. I've never been very observant... which I guess made it easier for me to become a victim. I was so naive. I would try so hard to appease him, to get him back to treating me like he had before. The lengths I had to go grew farther, and the reward I would receive dwindled down to nothing. So desperate to be loved that I unknowingly sold my soul to the devil in disguise, and as soon as I was on the hook his mask fell.

"Let's give you something to be sorry about, babe."

He never cared.

I won't let that happen to me again.

"I wish I was there! I wanna see Professor Cypher in action. I bet you blew a few minds."

My jaw clenches at Spencer's words.

I can't let that happen to me again. I can't.

Just because I allowed myself to have fun with him last night, doesn't mean I can let myself feel that again. It's not safe. Even if this isn't an act on his part, if he really is this kind, this smart, this fun to be around— doesn't mean he is safe.

I can't afford distractions. I have to stay focused.

"No one— and I mean no one will ever want you. You're wounded. I'm all you've got babe. It's time you start acting grateful."

He's right.

Just because we had fun together... just because I feel safe around him... just because he makes me laugh... just because he's been kind to me... just because he's attractive— it doesn't mean anything.

All it means is that I'm allowing myself to become weak. And I need to remind myself to keep the BAU distant.

"Hey there, sunshine!" Derek's loud voice ambushes me as soon as I step foot into the bullpen.

The momentary fear of not recognizing the person jumping in front of me was rectified by his familiar voice. I hate being gone from people for to long, because that always happens.

It's embarrassing and frightening for me.

"Hey." I give him a small convincing smile, surprised that he is here so early.

"What, ya really missed me that much?" He asks with a mocking pout. "We sure missed the heck out of you, pretty girl. Why didn't you tell us you were taking a vacation? Was it everything you ever hoped and dreamed?" His smile and general upbeat attitude is contagious, and I find myself trying to hold back a laugh as he walks with me to my desk.

"It was..." I think carefully about my words. Not wanting to remember the trip. "It was okay. But I'm glad to be back!"

"Welcome back to the real world." He winks at me.

"Hey, the kid's back." We both look over my shoulder at Rossi. The older man gives me a smile, crossing his arms in front of him. "Nice to have you back with us, Cypher."

"It's good to be back." I say softly, setting my things down on my desk. I was about to turn back to the two men when something caught my eye. My small desk cactus has a second flower on it, and a small blue fertilizer stick in the soil— something that wasn't there when I had left. "Awe did someone care for it when I was out?"

"Oh the kid did that," Rossi says. "The other kid." He clarifies. Meaning Spencer.

I begin to smile, but I caught myself.

"That was... nice of him." I say with a sigh as I sit down in my desk chair, fully aware of the odd stares I was getting from both men.

"Niki!!"

My arms wrap tightly around myself, anxiety peaked as I hear a familiar characterized voice come through the door.

"Omg Niki!" Penelope smiles widely as she bounces over to my desk. "Oh how I've missed youuu! Where were you yesterday? We were hanging out and having fun the day before and the next thing I know you don't come into work!"

I begin my rehearsed excuse but she cuts me off before I get much out. "I-"

She gives a dramatic gasp with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Did you get wasted too? Ugh I don't even remember opening the wine! But I smelt it the next day, let me tell you it was rough!" She giggles, obviously not noticing how tense I was.

She doesn't remember. She doesn't remember me storming out, she doesn't remember her accusations, she doesn't even remember drinking.

"Oh I..." I clear my throat, trying to lie convincingly. "I just needed a day. You know, jet lagged."

Hotch, Emily and JJ come in soon after, each surprisingly early today. Emily and JJ welcome me back, giving smiles and glances towards Penelope. They don't bring up anything, probably figuring out that she hadn't remembered most of the night. But from the uncertain looks Emily keeps throwing at me, I can tell she is still dangerously curious.

Aaron comes up to me soon after the girls, asking me about my trip, and my travel,  making sure I was safe throughout.

"Did you rest up enough yesterday?" He asks, discreetly inquiring about the assignment.

I caught a his eye, and nod. "Yep! Ready to work, boss." I say, my lips parting the beginnings of a smile— stopping myself before it got too far. My eyes falling to my desk as I turn away.

Sure he was there for me years ago, but things have changed, we both have changed, and I can't afford to let my guard down anymore.

I had caught the wary look Aaron had given me before I had turned. But before he could say anything Spencer comes in through the doors.

"Good morning, Reid." Hotch greets before heading off to his office.

"Morning, Hotch." Spencer yawns, tiredly falling into his desk chair.

"Someone looks miserable." Rossi comments teasingly.

"Damn Reid, I don't like you without sugar, you're turning into a zombie." Emily ruffles his hair causing him to lightly smack her hand away.

"I was out late last night."

"My man!" Derek wraps an arm around his head, almost putting the poor genius into a headlock. "I'm so proud you finally got some."

Uh.

"Wh... wait what?" I watch as Spencer's face turns red, and no doubt mine is doing the same. Our eyes meet, and I can't stop the worried expression that crosses my face. "N-No, no you've got the wrong idea. I was just reading at the library, and lost track of time... not that it's any of your concern. Did you guys know that blowing out birthday candles can increase the bacteria on the cake by one thousand four hundred precent!"

I breathe a sigh of relief. "That's interesting!" The words leave me before I could stop them.

"You were at the library all night? The one that closes at nine in the evening?" JJ asks, with a suspicious glance his way.

"Everyone knows they gave me a key two years ago." He reply's tiredly, a large hand stretching across his face to rub the sleep away.

The thing that makes me smile is the fact that I don't doubt it's true. He probably singlehandedly keeps that library functioning.

As our eyes meet Spencer gives me a lazy smile.

This is going to be more difficult than I thought.
••••

It's midday, and I'm still at my desk working on the paperwork that I needed to catch up on. My eyes flickering over to Spencer's desk every couple of seconds as I watch him rub his temples and sip at his coffee.

The hint of dark circles brimming under his eyes, the occasional yawn slipping from his lips. But still he try's to look predictive on the outside. Fingers lazily glossing over the pages in front of him, his desk a conglomerated mess of files, paper and notepads.

I can't help but feel bad for him. The extra lack of sleep not being kind.

"Everyone," Hotch's powerful voice echos across the bullpen. "Conference room— now."

I stand to follow the others, but notice Spencer wince at his loud voice.

"Headache?" I ask softly, leaning on his desk besides him. I wasn't going to say anything, but he seems so miserable, and each passing second is causing the guilt to consume me.

He refuses to look at anything besides his hands that are folded on the table in front of him. His hair falls down a bit into his eyes, and his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth. So different from the person I had dinner with yesterday. Hopefully he didn't feel uneasy about me asking— not wanting to complain or not wanting the team to know.

But it seems so obvious.

"Mmhm." He hums. Still not meeting my eye.

"You know that I get migraines— Often actually." I've caught him staring more than once whenever I cradled a side of my head, or cringed in pain from the sound of someone's voice.

"Yeah." He rubs his eyes trying to ease the tension in his skull.

"I— here- Open your hand." He does so immediately, not even taking the time to ask why.

Throwing a glance over my shoulder at the second floor, making sure the rest of the team isn't watching our exchange before grabbing three pills from the case in my wallet. Tentatively setting them on his open palm, trying to ignore the hint of warmth from his skin as I avoided making direct contact.

"What's.. whats this?" His eyes examining the same type of pills I took this morning.

"Riboflavin, Magnesium, and B-twelve." I explain as I pull a bottle of mineral water out of my bag. "And electrolytes." I set the bottle in front of him.

"I-" His mouth parts as he stares perplexedly towards me.

I give him a reassuring smile. "I've dealt with migraines all my life. Trust me this is the magic formula."

"Riboflavin, Magnesium, and B-twelve." He repeats.

"I take them once I feel a migraine coming on." I nod. "I suppose you could take them daily-  sugar withdrawal will cause headaches so you might want to—  but just be sure to alternate the B-twelve every other day."

He nods, immediately taking the supplements and a large swig of the water.

He's fortunate I like him— that could very well have been poison. You could hide something in a pastry and he'd be a goner... but it doesn't seem like that would be necessary, just hand him some pills and he'll take them.

Oh god, now I'm going to have to make sure he doesn't accidentally poison himself.

"Trial and error?" He draws me from my thoughts, gathering his things to take into the conference room.

"M.D in medical sciences, along with four years of residential shadowing. I mean... yeah... mostly trial and error I guess." I couldn't stop the words from spilling out of my mouth.

Why did I tell him that? I'm supposed to be distancing from not only him, but also the others on the team.

"You should have never have told him what you were doing yesterday."

I wrap my arms around myself. My own words from this morning haunting me as I watch him break into that smile that I adore.

"Thank you, Nicolette."

I nod, turning on my heel and hustling to the conference room where Penelope was just getting the projector set up.

"Where are we heading to this time, Cheif?" Emily inquires for us all as we find our seats at the round table.

"Colorado." Hotch answers before turning to JJ to make the case introduction.

"Pueblo Colorado to be exact." She hands Garcia some files, having the tech analyst hand them out. "The body of a man was found gagged and bound on an upper floor in an abandoned apartment building. The building was condemned due to major foundation damage, which caused interior levels to collapse. His body was suspended from a ceiling beam, leaving him dangling over a hole through the buildings center. If his restraints were severed— he would have fallen twelve stories."

Photos of the building and ropes appear on the screen. The floor caved in, dropping through the next levels ceiling and so on and so forth, creating a long fall for whoever tried to cross.

"They used HMPE." Spencer's eyes narrow at the screen, far brighter than they were a few minutes ago.

He must be feeling a bit better.

"A HP- what?"

"High Modulus Polyethylene— it's a type of rope. It's actually one of the strongest ropes available. The polyethylene fibers have long molecular chains, which makes HMPE ropes exceptionally tough, stronger than steel with high impact resistance. The strength to weight ratio of a HMPE rope is eight times higher than high strength steel. It's frequently used as an alternative to steel wire rope, because it's stronger, thinner, lighter and its self-lubricating aspect makes it significantly easier to handle." Spencer's hands gesture idly as he speaks. "This type of rope is often used in marine industries. But Colorado is landlocked... it's also used in cranes, industrial winching, towing trucks and heavy loads, church bells, and conveyer lines."

"So it's used in pretty much any heavy duty profession?" Rossi summarizes.

"Yes— but due to the molecular chain structure it's not ideal for holding knots. It looks like the unsub used a low gauge, but even at that it would be very difficult for the rope to keep a knot tight enough to be effective. It's possible, sure. But there are far better options if thing someone up is what they're going for." Spencer explains, thrilled no one interrupted him.

He meet my gaze with an eager smile.

"It makes you brave, you know?"
"Brave?"

"Well it doesn't look like they used this rope to tie him up. Just to suspend him." Emily uses her tablet to zoom in on the photo. "He had handcuffs on."

"The man survived right?" Rossi asks. "Why are we being called in on this?"

"He's recovering in hospital. Though he is in a medically induced coma." JJ nods. "We're taking this on because it's oddly familiar to another case."

With the click of a button, an entirely new crime scene appears on the projector. This time it's a bridge. And this man didn't survive.

"Same rope... same use of suspension." Morgan notes aloud.

"Both men were also featured in an expose video on the same local activists group on their social media." Hotch adds.

"And both crime scenes have the same signature." JJ clicks the remote again, bringing up two images side by side.

The first of the bridge victim, the next of the man found in the building— each have had their noses cut off.

"What the hell kind of video was this?"