T W E N T Y  E I G H T

SPENCER SAT ANXIOUSLY, his leg jumping up and down and his fingers trailing over the skin of his neck.

He was thinking, hard. After he and Morgan went to the coroner to further inspect the bodies, Spencer did not dare to speak. He was afraid of letting go any on his thoughts concerning the case.

"So," Morgan sat down next to him with a fresh cup of coffee in hand. "Are you going to tell me about your little sex-capade? Or are you gonna have me begging for more information?"

"You never ask." Spencer muttered.

"True, but I don't think profiling is going to get me very far here. Unless," He paused. "Unless, you want me to profile you?"

He rolled his eyes, "Now why would I want you to do that?"

"Cause you're too nervous to ask for help. I know you, Pretty Boy. Something is up, I can tell." Morgan turned around the empty conference room. "There's no one here, nothing to be shy about."

Reid sighed and leaned back into his chair, "I'm not shy."

"Yes, you are. And that little hickey on your neck is all the proof I need. Most guys would be showing off and talking nonstop if they had a girl over the night before. You, on the other hand, pretend like it isn't there."

"Because it practically isn't. A hickey is just a dark red or purple mark on your skin caused by intense suction. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Well, who did it?"

Spencer eyed the door, "No one you know."

Morgan followed his eyes, the thought crossed his mind and everything clicked. The doctor wasn't a very good liar, he knew that well enough.

He lowered his voice and gave him a stern look, "Please tell me you used protection, Reid."

"Wha-What? Derek, it's not like that!"

"Really? I didn't expect you to be the kind of guy that did it that w-"

"No! No! Not that either." Spencer's arms flailed about to catch his attention. He could feel his face burning from the thought Morgan was insinuating.

"Okay," His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Then what?"

Spencer sighed once more before running his fingers through his messy hair. "It was Scout, okay? Are you happy now?"

"Well yeah, I figured that out. I've been telling you for awhile now that she's perfect for you. It's about time you realized it. I mean, doc, you're supposed to be the smartest one of the team."

"Morgan, I didn't make the first move."

"So what? You need a strong woman to tell you what you want."

"I don't think she wanted it, really."

"You're losing me here, Reid."

"Scout - well, she - she came over, drunk. She was practically tripping over herself. I was texting her the entire day to make plans but she never responded. A few hours later, she shows up at my door with an almost empty bottle of vodka and playing charades. I - I didn't know what to do. Then, all of a sudden, she's kissing and biting at my neck and I - I go along with it. But when she tried to kiss me-"

"You smell the alcohol in her breath." Morgan continued for him.

"I smelled the alcohol in her breath, yes. And it's like I'm suddenly pushed back into reality and I literally shove her off of me. I try and calm down a bit and I offer her to sleep in my room while I take the sofa but then she starts cursing at me. She was pissed, Morgan. I'd never seen her this angry. And then she just, leaves. She told me to never talk to her again and to fuck off."

Spencer rubber his face in his hands, "And now, she's pissed at me for reasons I don't know why."

"Reid," Morgan grabbed his shoulder in encouragement. "You did the right thing. You didn't want to take advantage of her. Scout was drunk and she forced herself on you, it's not your fault."

"No, it's hers."

The dark skinned agent narrowed his eyes, "Hey, no. No, it's not. You can't point fingers and blame each other in this kind of situation. Scout, she's strong and hardheaded but I also know that she's smart. I'm guessing she just didn't know how to communicate whatever it is she's feeling and needed a little liquid luck. I can't blame her, I've done it too and so have most people."

"It's not like she needed courage before." Spencer spoke softly and played with his pen.

"What do you mean?"

"We - we almost kissed. It was before Christmas, in the parking lot. We were just talking and we kind of just leaned into each other."

"Well, why didn't you?"

Spencer sheepishly smiled, "It started to snow."

"Man," Morgan let out a bellying laugh. "You really just have the worst of luck with these kind of things."

"You think?"

"Look, I know this can all be frustrating but if you take your time with it, it'll be worth it. Besides, I think she'll be good for you. You need a little spitfire in your life, someone that can keep you on your toes and can handle all your- well," He focused his hands on Spencer. "- all of this, really."

Reid smiled before it faltered, "Well, it's not like she even looks at me anymore. So it doesn't even matter at this point."

"Talk to her. Clear things up, explain what happened. And listen to her. I think you can solve all of this by just doing that."

He sighed again, "Easier said than done."

It was the next day and Scout was exhausted. Freeport, Maine was a small town but the bustling talk of the murders kept the BAU under pressure  by the news. The thought of not catching the unsub was nerve wracking and it kept Scout up all night.

"Hey." She muttered under her breath to the team as she nodded towards Hotch.

Rossi sent her a smile, "Well, look who's up. Almost slept in, didn't you?"

Scout merely nodded again before resting her on the table of the conference room. Hotch sent each member to work on different areas of the case and she was glad when he said that she would be staying at the station.

But so would Spencer and himself. And she was almost too exhausted to care.

Almost.

Throughout the day, Scout scavenged through case files to see if she could find any connection with the murders currently taken place and anything from the past. But she was having no luck and that put her in an even worse mood.

She grabbed the dial phone from the table and called the familiar number, placing the call on speaker phone.

"Locked and loaded, how can I impart my awesome knowledge?" Garcia's voice rang through the speaker.

The blonde's enthusiasm put a smile on Scout's face, "Hey Garcia, it's Scout. I need some help tracking down a student that Taylor Fabery's roommate mentioned yesterday."

"Jamie Gomez?"

"That's the roommate. She mentioned that Taylor almost ran over someone the night she got drunk and got her license revoked. Is there a police report or any records from that event?"

"Uh-" The sound of typing over the phone perked Spencer up from his corner, "Negative. It just says that she was pulled over for being under the influence but nothing about almost running someone over. Are you sure it was Taylor?"

"Yeah, that's what her roommate told me. Maybe the info got buried?"

"It's possible." Spencer said, walking towards the phone and leaning against the table. "If the school wanted that information gone then they would've erased it from their records and not bother with sharing it with the police."

Scout sent him a glare but the doctor looked at her, unfazed and almost amused by her annoyance.

"She also told me that Richard Doberman raped a student this semester but the victim wasn't allowed to report. Said that her brother tried to go to the police about it but it got brushed off. Any info on that?"

There was a pause. "No, but there aren't that many siblings that attend Freeport together at the university. Only 3 pairs of brothers and sisters."

She shook her head, "We have no way of knowing if the siblings attend together. And it would take too long to narrow down all the brothers and sisters of the whole town that fit the age range."

"Garcia, what about girls who recently left the school that have an older or younger brother?" Reid interrupted.

Scout rolled her eyes, "Why? And if I can recall, I'm the one that called Garcia. Not you."

"Uh-" Garcia awkwardly reacted to her spiteful words.

"If she was raped and the school chose to ignore her then maybe she left. Maybe her brother unenrolled her for protection, or out of protest."

The sound of typing continued.

"Got two hits. One, Ginger Yaw left Freeport in the middle of school last semester for unknown reasons. Her brother, Gabriel, still attends. And two, Stacy Perkins withdrew because of financial reasons. Daniel Perkins, on the other hand, is a basketball player and has a hefty scholarship covering his tuition."

Scout sighed, "It could be either of them."

"Thanks, Garcia." Spencer leaned over to the phone.

"Anytime, superheroes." And ended the call.

Spencer glanced at the board that held all the pictures and information of the victims. His eyes scanned each one, trying to process it all from a new perspective before turning to Scout. She had gotten up from her seat and started to tug on her coat.

He raised a brow, "And where are you going?"

"To the university," She huffed at him. "Mind your own business, will you?"

"Scout, please."

"What?"

"Can we talk?"

Scout sent him another glare but had a mischievous smirk on her mouth, "We already are."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean, Spencer? Huh? Cause I'm having a real hard time trying to figure it out at this point." She scowled but waved him off. "You know what? I don't even care at this point."

Spencer followed an angry Scout out the door of the police station, trying to not call any attention to what was going on. He could feel himself getting frustrated and a swell in his chest brought him dread.

"Scout, will you just stop? I want to talk to you. We need to talk about what happened the other night. I can't stand you being upset with me and - and it's making it hard to focus on anything else."

She stayed silent but got into the driver's seat of the large SUV, ignoring the doctor. When Spencer opened the door of the passenger side, she could feel her eyes twitching.

"Look, you either get in this car and don't talk or you stay behind and read until your eyes fall out and bleed. It's your decision, Spencer. But you are not going to get in the way of me working on this case with our own personal drama."

Scout started the engine of the car and turned back to him. "This is our job. Do you understand that? For all we know, some other kid is getting murdered and you're starting up a storm because of your feelings and my fucked up drunken mistake. If you wanna talk, do it when I actually feel like listening to you."

And with that, Spencer stayed silent.

He didn't even dare to cough in the car while Scout drove. It was a mixture of fear and nervousness, and the heat of Scout's anger was radiating towards him.

When the pair arrived at the university, Spencer slug his bag over his shoulder and scanned the area. It was gloomy, the sky was filled with clouds and the sun was completely blocked out.

"I'm going to Dean Farr's office. Maybe he knows the reason why the girls left in the middle of the semester. You - You should go to the dorms and see if you can find and talk to Daniel Perkins. I have a feeling that something happened between him and his sister since he got a scholarship and she didn't."

"Wait, maybe we should go together. I don't think we should split up." Spencer recoiled at the female agent already walking away.

Scout waved him off, "You'll be fine, you big baby. Rossi, JJ, and I separated yesterday and hey - would you look at that? I'm still alive."

'Why does she always have to be so complicated? It's like she trying to purposely annoy me, and she's winning.' Spencer thought to himself before turning towards the dormitories.

Scout, on the other hand, was more determined than frustrated. Her training and instincts kept her on high alert so any worry about separating from Spencer was washed away. If the pair found themselves in trouble, she knew she would have to be the one to save him; not the other way around.

"Hey," She said as she found a familiar teenager typing away at a laptop and knocked on the wall of outer space of the dean's office. "Nice-shirt guy, you're still wearing the same shirt."

The teen jumped in surprise and gaped at the smiling agent, glancing down at his shirt.

"Oh, I didn't have enough quarters to do laundry. And it didn't smell so I thought it would be okay to wear again." The boy shrugged.

"Ah, the golden rule. If it doesn't smell then it isn't dirty. I learned that same trick when I was your age. But here," Scout pulled out a $5 bill from her pocket and handed it to the assistant. "You need it more than I do."

"Thanks." He sheepishly smiled and took the money.

"Is Farr in? I have a few questions to ask him."

The teen shook his head, "You just missed him, but he should be back early tomorrow in the morning. His schedule looks empty."

"Great, just my luck." Scout sucked in a deep breath, "Well, thanks anyways er-"

"Gabe."

She smiled, "Gabe, thank you. It must be hard working here while all this crazy stuff is going on."

"Yeah, it doesn't help that the professors are on edge and giving even more work so that we stay busy."

"You're a student?"

"Uh huh," Gabe pointed at the plaque on the desk, "But I'm also a secretary at night. I'm living that double life style and it helps that it pays the bills."

Scout glanced at the metal inscription and felt a shiver run down her spine: GABRIEL YAW. He was the same student that was the brother of Ginger, who left the school in the middle of the semester.

"And you don't play sports? Farr gives out money like it's, well - money - to practically anyone that can throw a ball."

He scowled, "Dean Farr doesn't - appreciate intelligence. Academic scholarships are at the bottom of his list and by then, that money well is running dry. I'm not surprised by all these murders, though. It about time that someone started evening the field for the rest of us."

Scout gave him a sympathetic closed mouth smile, "I've been there. My dad died and my mom's handicapped so I had to make my own way through school. And this place, well - it wouldn't be my first choice."

"See, you get it. Every time I tell Farr that, he just brushes me away and tells me to bring in the next athlete to write a big check to. It's ridiculous."

Scout felt a bubbling feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something felt off and she knew it. Whether she was right, that had yet to be determined.

"Do you," She cleared her throat. "Did you know any of the students that got attacked?"

"Murdered." Gabe corrected, bluntly.

"Right, sorry. Murdered, I mean."

"Not personally, but I had to budget their scholarships and they got more than they deserved. Trust me, I think they deserved what they got."

"But," Scout lied, sweetly and innocently. "Everyone says Taylor was so nice, that she could make friends with anyone and she was pretty and bright. Two combinations that mix together well, along with being a star volleyball player."

Gabe scoffed, "She was also a drunk and cheated her way into getting good grades. Not to mention reckless and a danger to society."

"What do you mean drunk? Did she drink a lot?"

"Ha! Taylor drank her way into her casket."

She narrowed her eyes, "Did you ever see her drink?"

"Didn't have to," He shrugged, "She almost ran me over with her car. But she hit a pole instead and got her license taken. Farr wouldn't even let me report it to the police, said that she didn't need to be punished for a mistake."

"That just - wrong." She tucked a stand of hair behind her ear. "But I bet Richard and Nico weren't that bad."

Gabe's eyes turned furiously and he bolted up and out of his chair. He paced back and forth between the walls of the room and Scout eyed him carefully, analyzing his every move.

"What?" She squeaked out, playing dumb.

"Richard fucking Doberman was scum, I'm glad that he got what he deserved. And now he's dead with a pencil in his eye, along with the other cheaters and liars of this school."

There was a pause of silent, "The news never said it was a pencil, just that they were stabbed in the eye."

Scout glanced at Gabe's shirt, the boy frozen in place after his burst of emotion.

"What doesn't kill you makes you stranger?" She read off the quote from the shirt. "The Dark Knight, I love that movie. It even had my favorite scene. You know, the one where Joker kills the gangster by stabbing him in the eyes with a pencil?"

Gabe, who was closest to the door, slammed it shut and locked it behind him. Instinctively, Scout stood up and went to her belt to reach for her gun - only to grab at nothing but air.

"Are you kidding me? Stupid FBI and their gun policies." She muttered under her breath.

The teen held tight to a large kitchen knife that he had stashed away in his desk and pointed it at the agent. She held up her hands in defeat, annoyed at how quickly he had the upper hand.

"You don't want to do this, Gabe. Trust me, you don't want to hurt me. I'm like you, I'm not like those other kids."

He moved closer to her, adrenaline rushing through his veins and motivating him, "I can't let you tell everyone, you're just gonna lock me up and not even care about fixing this shitty messed up place!"

"No," Scout backed away. "You know I wouldn't do that, I'm on your side. I can protect you, really. Gabe, I know what happened to your sister and I know you want to protect her."

"How did you-"

"Because I know everything about you, Gabe. You've been fucked over by everyone at this school but I'm not like them! I know Richard Doberman raped her and I know that your tried to get help and tell people but they wouldn't have it. And you were angry that he got away with it."

Suddenly, the door of the office slammed open and revealed Spencer wielding his gun. He pointed it at Gabe, glancing back and forth between Scout and the teenager.

"No!" Gabe exclaimed slashed the knife towards Spencer, slicing his arm and dropping the gun.

The teen pounced at the doctor, sending the both of them flying towards the floor. Scout watches the scene happen in slow motion and without thinking, reached for Spencer's gun.

Gabe punched and pull at his hair, trying to hurt and scratch any part of flesh he could get his hands on. Standing up, Scout pointed the gun but the two moved quickly.

"Scout! Don't!" Spencer exclaimed, thinking that the girl had never fired a gun in the first place and didn't know how to aim.

She steadied herself and took a deep breath in, aiming the gun and pulling the trigger.

The recoil wasn't strong but the sound of the pistol gave a ringing to her ear. And the sight in front of her gave her relief as she dropped the gun to her side with an exhale.

Spencer pushed the teenager off him, who cried out in pain from the shot in his now bleeding shoulder. He grabbed at the handcuffs at his belt and began to recite the Miranda Rights.

Scout laid in her bed of the cold hotel room. She drew in a deep breath and let the air go in a sigh, grabbing at the itchy blankets in hopes of warming up.

It was a long night as Gabriel Yaw was processed and charged with the murders of the three college student: Nico Jimnez, Taylor Fabery, and Richard Doberman. Gabe admitted to the murders, claiming that he was doing his social justice and cleaning up the university of Freeport and doing the town a favor. He said that they deserved it.

And a part of Scout knew he was right.

After all, Richard raped his little sister at a party that Nico threw and it was Taylor that dragged the innocent freshman there to bring with. She got his sister drunk and left her alone, a perfect target for Richard and more of a nightmare for the young girl when Nico joined in.

And there were more boys, all athletes, that took a pass at Ginger Yaw and the next victims of Gabe if he hadn't been caught. When asked about the pencil and stabbing in the eye, he responded with an admiration for the comic book clown and how he was fascinated with scene of the movie. Quick and simple, that's what Gabe said.

Scout's inner conscience was relentless because she knew that if she was in the same situation as Gabe, she would've done the same.

If Spencer hadn't shown up, maybe she would've let him go.

"Spencer." Scout mumbled under her breath.

She shot Gabe the same exact spot that had when she shot Spencer, in the crevasse of the shoulder where no damage would be done and little bleeding would've been caused.

It would only be a matter of time before he figured it out.

Scout was supposed to be a girl that had never shot a gun and there she was, shooting a boy in the perfect spot as he moved uncontrollably. She knew Spencer was smart enough to put the pieces together.

She glanced at her phone that sat on the nightstand. It would only be matter of time before the team departed in the morning and Xander would give another mission. He would ask how it was going with Spencer and a part of her knew that she wouldn't be able to lie.

In the spur of the moment, she got out of bed and made a beeline to Spencer's room.

She didn't need alcohol and there was no adrenaline motivating her. Scout knew she had to do what was right.

She had to tell him.

With a loud knock, Scout waited patiently for the tall doctor to answer the door. And when he did, the sight of his messy curls and sleepy eyes made her melt.

'This is the right thing to do. Just say it, goddamnit.' She thought to herself.

"Scout?" Spencer rubbed his eyes. "What are you doing?"

"Spence, I like you. A lot. And a part of me is going to regret this." She said as the doctor perked up and looked more awake. "But I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Scout took in a deep breath, "I think we should just stay friends."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Am I sorry? Not one bit.
Has the Scout/Spencer ship drowned?
Who knows?

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