Me or Her
A/N: A request from @winterladybr for a Spencer x Reader where she works for the BAU and they are seeing each other when he starts talking to Maeve. When the reader realizes and sees that he kind of likes her too, she gets hurt, breaks things off, and starts to become very withdrawn. Eventually, Spencer realizes he truly loves the reader and tries to go back to her. She’s still hurt, so it may or may not work out. @coveofmemories
“Babe, I think I found someone that can help me with my headaches,” Spencer had said all those months ago. You’d been ecstatic. His head had been killing him and he didn’t know why. Maybe this person would help.
“Who is it?” you’d asked.
As he showed you the file, it seemed like she had impressive credentials. It was a woman, a geneticist, named Maeve Donovan. “What will she be able to do?”
“If I send her the results from some of the tests I’ve had done, she might be able to recommend something other doctors haven’t thought of,” he’d said happily. Maybe then he could stop wearing sunglasses all the time.
“Go for it,” you’d said. “Can’t hurt.”
Oh how wrong you’d been.
That had been nearly seven months ago. At first, it started innocently. He would call her on occasion to update her on his headaches. She’d prescribed a slightly higher than normal dosage of riboflavin and the occasional B-12 shot as a booster. It had helped - his headaches were almost completely gone. But even after the headaches went away, he had continued to call her. Not often, but often enough that you’d found it weird.
Over the next couple of months, they continued to talk. You’d hear him laughing and wonder what she said that made him react that way. You’d see him talking on the phone when he hadn’t said anything about making a phone call. She didn’t live nearby as far as you knew, but you could see an emotional affair from a mile away. He’d fall asleep next to you, but you could tell he was far away. You honestly weren’t even sure if he knew it was happening, because he was just as affectionate with you as he’d always been, but you were still hurt.
Then about a month ago, you’d had enough. Enough of him talking to someone else behind your back. Enough of his face lighting up at seeing her number on the screen. Enough hurt. You’d just had enough. That’s when everything blew up.
“Y/N, why are you doing this?” he’d yelled. “I love you!”
“I love you, too,” you wept crossing your hands over your chest in an attempt to protect yourself, trying to protect your heart, but it wasn’t working. “I believe you. I think you love me, but I think you are developing feelings for someone else, and I can’t continue to watch it. It’s killing me.”
“Who am I in love with?”
“That’s denial!” you yelled. “You know exactly who I’m talking about…Maeve! At first I didn’t think anything of it. She was a doctor. She made your headaches go away. I thought she was a godsend.” Heated tears streamed down your face as everything you’d been feeling for the past six months came to a head. “But now you talk to her all the time. Your face lights up when she calls. After you update her on your headaches, which haven’t happened for three months by the way, you continue to talk to her. I can hear how lightly you laugh with her. I just…I don’t even know if you realize it’s happening, but I think you’re in love with her too. And I can’t handle that. When it comes to you, I’m selfish. I want you for myself. I’m not sharing you with anyone. So you need to figure out who it is that you want. Do you want me or her?” You’d stopped at that point, having run out of breath and only continuing on empty. But you’d quickly added more. “I don’t want an answer now. We work together and I will continue to act professionally. But we need time apart so that you can figure out who you want. Me or her. So I want you to leave.”
He’d inched his way toward you as you’d cried, but you stepped back. If he touched you, it would be over and you would continue to get hurt. You couldn’t let that happen. “Don’t do this,” he said, his eyes brimming with tears. “I love you.”
“Then you’ll take time away to figure out whether or not you can cut off your contact with her. From the little I know, she’s probably a lovely woman. She cured your headaches, so I know she’s smart. From what I’ve heard, she sounds sweet. But I can’t do this if you continue to talk to her.” It just wasn’t okay.
You remember watching as he stepped back from you, hurt and confused. “Why are you doing this, Y/N? I have female friends. You don’t have a problem with me being friends with JJ, Emily or Garcia? Why is she any different?”
“Because you’re not in love with them!” you screamed. “I can tell the difference between platonic love and something else. What you feel for JJ and Emily and Garcia is platonic and I know that. This…her…Maeve…it’s something different. I don’t know whether it’s exactly the same as me. I don’t know if you’re just in awe of her. But what you feel for her is something I am not comfortable with.” Turning away, you’d opened the door and convinced him to leave. “If you love me, you’ll be back. Without her. Figure out who you want and get back to me. Or don’t. But a choice needs to be made.”
A month had passed since you’d kicked him out of the apartment. The following week was especially hellish at work. Everyone could tell immediately that something was very wrong between you. Both of you continued as professionals, but even looking at him was hurting you. The past three weeks had been a little bit better, but it was still very, very awkward. Thankfully, it was the weekend and you had off. Apparently, he’d been staying at Morgan’s place, so he returned there and you went to the apartment you’d shared.
There was nothing you wanted more than to go back to the way things used to be. Hopefully, Spencer would make the decision to piece you two back together. When you heard a knock on the door, you’d assumed it was Garcia. For weeks now, she’d been begging you to tell her what was wrong - she wanted to help - but you had no interest in talking. You wanted to wallow. So you walked up to the door and swung it open, ready to snap at her for her to leave. But it wasn’t Garcia. It was Spencer. “What is it?” you asked, as your eyes began to tingle with tears. It had been a constant reaction as of late. “I really don’t feel like doing this Spence, so make it quick.”
“I don’t want her. I-l want you.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to you. “I called her yesterday to tell her I couldn’t speak to her anymore.”
“Are you in love with her?” you cracked, looking at the floor. If you looked in his eyes, you’d see the truth, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.
Hesitantly, he reached out for your hand. “Look at me,” he insisted. “I need you to see my eyes when I say this, because otherwise you may not believe me. I love you. I had some kind of feelings for her, but they weren’t the same. Something more than friends, but not what I feel for you. If keeping her as a friend, or whatever she was, means losing you, I can’t do that. I want you. For the rest of my life.”
It was painful to have him admit that there was something there, but when he said it wasn’t the same as what he felt for you, you could see he was telling the truth. He had tells when he lied. One of them was his eyes darting and the others was that the tips of his ears would turn red; he’d done neither. His eyes bored holes into your soul and his ears were the same color they always were. “You have an eidetic memory. I know you still know her phone number,” you said, wondering if the temptation to call her would be too strong.
“I do still know it. I can’t un-know it, as much as I’d like to. But I won’t ever use it again. If you want to check out my phone occasionally to make sure I haven’t called her that’s fine. I just need you to know that I only want you. Whatever I have to do to prove that, I’ll do,” he said, placing your hand over his rapidly beating heart.
Moments before, you’d been very close to closing the door, but instead, you stood back and let him in. “Okay,” you breathed. “Just don’t make me regret letting you into my heart again. If I find out you’ve had any contact with her, we’re done.”
“I promise,” he said, caressing the side of your face in his hand. “She’s nothing but a memory to me now.”