hey there!! thank u sm for reading my book and voting on the chapters :)) i really appreciate it.

if anyone has any requests or just anything they would like to see for spencer, mgg, or any of his characters, please send me a message!!

word count: 2.9k

warnings: maeve arc but nothing is explained in detail. just implications

i had always lived in very loud apartment buildings after i moved away from home. i first moved into my college dorm filled with senior boys throwing parties every week. then i moved into an off campus house with some friends who constantly had people over. and my first apartment after college just happened to have floors and floors of college students.

so moving into my new apartment was a blessing. when i first came to see the apartment, i was immediately struck by how quiet it was. the landlord let me know that the building was made up of mostly older people or married couples and is usually as quiet as it was during my visit. i was sold immediately.

moving in was nice and i didn't get a lot of help from any of my neighbors, but some friends came by the help me move boxes and unpack. and so, i settled into my quiet apartment and basked in the seemingly endless silence.

i did what i could to introduce myself to my neighbors in the friendliest way possible, but most of the surrounding apartments are all older people so they instantly welcomed me like a long lost granddaughter. but the neighbor directly next to me always seemed to be out of their apartment every single time i went by to introduce myself.

"oh! doctor spencer reid is in the apartment next to you. he's in the fbi and he's out a lot," mrs. cavanaugh told me when i went to meet her for the first time.

okay, i can deal with that. an always-traveling neighbor means more beautiful silence.

one day, i hear his door slam shut, uncharacteristically loud for this building. i instantly perk up at the opportunity to finally meet my busy, mysterious neighbor and put on some socks to walk over. my new little kitten, a black cat with white feet, appropriately named socks, mewls in discontent when i move away from her.

"i'll be back soon, little miss," i coo to my new kitty, pressing a kiss to her head before grabbing my keys and heading one apartment over.

i knock three times and wait for an answer, and when i get nothing, i pout. i knock three more times and wait again, even longer this time, but i still get nothing.

"um, hi!" i raise my voice in hopes that my neighbor is near the door and can hear me. "i'm your neighbor and i moved in a couple weeks ago. i just wanted to say hi and introduce myself." complete silence follows and this is the first time i wish i wasn't engulfed in silence. "i'm not sure if you can even hear me but if you'd like to say hi then don't hesitate. i'm right next door. apartment twenty four. uh- okay, thanks, bye." rolling my eyes at my own stupidity, i march right back to my apartment and cuddle with my cat.

the next day when i come home late from work, i almost trip over the mass of gift baskets placed in front of my neighbor's door. it makes me freeze and wonder what the hell happened that would make this amount of gift baskets necessary. did someone die? did my neighbor die? holy shit. he died and i didn't even get to meet him? what the hell?

but before i can knock on his door or someone else's or even just go home, his door opens slowly. he creeps out, crouching down to pick up the basket closest to the door. as he stands again with the basket full of what looks to be hot chocolate and marshmallows, he looks up at me like a deer caught in headlights.

i snap out of my stare on the baskets, putting on a smile as i lay eyes on my neighbor for the first time after living here for almost a month. he looks young, maybe as young as me, but he looks disheveled and tired. well, mrs. cavanaugh did say that he's an fbi agent so i can imagine it's an exhausting profession. but he's wrapped in a robe and what looks to be dirty sweats, with his hair unruly and his facial hair unkempt. but he has a striking face with sharp cheekbones and a perfect nose and i find myself wondering what he would look like if he didn't look so messy.

but regardless, i figure now is the perfect time to do what i've been trying to do since i moved in. "hi!" my tone is far too cheery for how upset he looks. "i'm your neighbor, number twenty four, i came by yesterday. i just wanted to say hi and introduce myself. i moved in last month."

his eyebrows pop up just slightly, his grip on the basket nervously adjusting. he shifts back and forth on his feet. "oh, hi."

i let a beat of awkward silence pass. i expect him to tell me his name, even though i already know it, but he says nothing and he just stares at me. so instead of letting the uncomfortable silence continue, i keep talking. "well, i'm charlotte but everyone calls me lottie. i said this yesterday too but my door is always open if you ever wanted to come over. but i have a cat so if you don't like cats then maybe don't," i attempt to make a joke but he doesn't even crack a smile. he just stares at me blankly. "do you want help bringing in these baskets? there's like, a dozen here."

"no," he shakes his head, picking up one more basket full of nuts and seeds before turning on his heel and going back into his apartment, closing the door gently behind him.

okay. that's not how i wanted that interaction to go. now that i know doctor spencer reid is closer to my age, i'm hoping we can be friends. maybe he just doesn't want to be friends. or maybe he's just going through something and he's in a bad place. okay, yeah, i can get behind that. the gift baskets and the disheveled look point to him going through something. maybe i can try again in a week or so.

and i fully intend to wait another week until i go over to try and talk to him again, but when two days pass and i start hearing loud bangs from his apartment, i get concerned. the silence in the building is almost tangible and it's like that twenty four-seven, so hearing such loud crashes in the middle of the day is completely out of the ordinary. it even makes socks jolt and start meowing at the wall.

so, abandoning my plan to wait a week, i leave my apartment and rush over to spencer's. i knock without a second thought. "hey! it's lottie! i'm just checking in to make sure everything is okay. i heard a lot of loud noises."

"i'm fine, i'm fine. i'm sorry for the noise!" he shouts back, but i can tell just from his voice that he's not. his voice wavers and cracks and i clearly hear

him sniffle a few times.

"um," i quiet my voice down just a little bit, "i know we've only met once for a short time and we're basically strangers but if you need to talk to anyone then i'm here. i'm-" i pause when i get nothing in response, figuring i need to switch my tactic. something is wrong with him and he clearly lives alone. he needs someone to talk to. i've always been told i'm a great listener and i'm good at advice. "i have a cat and whenever i'm upset, i just let her lay on my chest and listening to her purr always seems to make me feel better. do you wanna meet my cat? her name is socks."

"i'm okay. thank you though."

i decide after that moment that i won't go back again. my new neighbor is going through something and doesn't want to be around anyone. okay. that's fine.

i move on with my life. i make friendly conversation with my other neighbors, spend most of my time at work, and occasionally hang out with my friends. i forget about the slightly cute yet distressed boy next door, especially since the gift baskets stop showing up. they showed up for three days straight and i almost tripped on them every single time i came up the stairs. but the baskets stopped coming and the loud crashes stopped, so i just forgot. until a week later.

i had a rare good day at work, my day void of complaining and inconveniences and harassment from my boss. so i come home and try to keep the good vibes going, taking a bath and then putting on oversized sweats and then going to make myself some dinner. socks is jumping at my feet and crying out for attention, using her tiny paws to claw at my pants.

"m'am, i already fed you!" i giggle, bending down and lifting her up onto the counter, away from the hot stove. "if you don't chew up anymore of my shoes or hurt yourself jumping between things that are too far away, then maybe i'll give you some treats later." she lets out her little kitten screech at the word treats. "later!"

just as i'm finishing dinner, a giant pot of macaroni and cheese, there's a knock on my door. "coming!" i shout as loud as i can, quickly moving socks to the floor before rushing to the door.

the door swings open and i go speechless when i find spencer standing there, hands tucked in his pockets with his head down. but his head pops up when he hears the door creak, and he plasters on this tiny smile that couldn't feel more fake.

"is this a bad time?" he asks quietly, like he's too afraid to break the silence that has existed between the two of us.

"no, not at all. please, come in," i wave him inside, but he doesn't move. he just keeps his feet glued to the floor with his hands tucked in his pockets, pursing his lips.

i open my mouth to speak, to insist that he's not interrupting anything and that i want him to come in, but socks comes barreling over from behind my feet. she runs right up to spencer and meows at him, and she starts climbing up his leg at lightening speed. she has crawled up to his stomach and he's cradling her in his arms before i can even apologize and try to pull her off. but when socks starts licking at spencer's hands, he smiles at the feeling. he brings his other hand up to pet the top of her head, getting purrs and mewls in response.

i take this new version silence as an opportunity to observe my neighbor's appearance. when i saw him for the first and only time, he looked like the epitome of the word disheveled. he was wrapped in a robe and baggy sweatpants. he was growing a scraggly beard and his hair was frizzy and clearly hadn't been cared for. but he almost looks like a new person now with a button up shirt, a tie, slacks, and dress shoes. his beard is gone, and while his hair is still long, it's now pushed behind his ears in a neat style. and if i thought he was attractive when he was clearly beaten down, then this version of him blows that version out of the water. his brown eyes are so soft and entrancing and welcoming and his smile lights up my dark apartment when he's not even trying to.

"i just finished making dinner," i pull the door open all the way to invite him in. "you're welcome to have some, if you're hungry."

spencer nods mindlessly and follows me inside, his attention focused so intently on the fur ball in his arms. he scratches her tummy and socks meows louder than ever, and spencer even lets out a laugh at this.

"so her name is socks, right?" he stands, slightly awkwardly, in the kitchen as i return to the pot on the stove. "i assume because she's all black and she has white paws."

"you're exactly right. good memory," i put a bowl down on the island for him and then sit down with my own bowl in front of me. spencer gives a half smile, chuckling and muttering something about yeah, good memory. he sets socks on the floor and sits down, leaving her to sit obediently and meow at us.

"oh, calm down, lady. you've already been fed," with a roll of my eyes, i twist around and grab a bag of treats from the drawer, tossing two down to her.

"so you're lottie," spencer says next. "i'm spencer."

"this is weird to say, but i already knew that. mrs. cavanaugh told me about you and how you work for the fbi. i really hope that's not weird or creepy."

"i guess not," he sighs, crossing his arms over the table. "i might as well get straight to the point. i came over to apologize for— well, i guess, how i've treated you the other times you've tried to introduce yourself. i was going through a hard time and didn't want to be around anyone. so, yeah, sorry."

"oh," i place a bowl of mac and cheese in front of him and sit in the chair beside his, "well, thanks. i figured you were so i decided i'd just leave you be. it's not a big deal, honestly. everybody has their own issues."

spencer gives me a soft smile and picks up the fork, quickly stuffing his face with food. he eats like he hasn't all day and i don't question if this is the truth.

"did you know," spencer says through a mouthful of macaroni, "that cats are believed to be the only mammals that don't taste sweetness?"

and that's how our relationship starts. spencer stops by occasionally and i cook dinner for us. he eventually shows up with toys for socks, then, on a rare trip to his apartment, he lends me a sweatshirt so i don't have to miss any of the movie we were watching by running across the hall when it got too cold, then he makes me dinner instead of the other way around, and then i have a drawer of things at his apartment.

he tells me about a woman named maeve and how she recently passed away, and explains that those events are why he seemed to hostile at first, but he doesn't elaborate. i accept this and don't rush him, but can't help but feel upset that my handsome neighbor who gives incredible hugs and has the prettiest laugh is still hung up on another woman. but i remember that he's mourning and i push away any feelings of infatuation for him to the back of my mind.

but then i start getting woken up in the middle of the night. i wake up to socks meowing relentlessly, running back and forth from my bed to the front door. or plainly to the doorbell ringing. spencer winds up in my bed, crying about whatever happened at two in the morning. i happily take him in though, holding him and rubbing his back until he falls asleep on my chest.

and, of course, tonight is no different from other nights. i fall asleep with a lamp still on so i don't trip or stub my toe when i inevitably get woken up by my cat. and sure enough, at around three in the morning, socks is screaming in my ear.

"i'm up," i say groggily, pulling socks away from my ear. "coming!" i call quietly. i cradle socks in my arms and then set her in the car bed in the living room before opening the door. as always, spencer is standing there in his pajamas, mismatched socks, and bloodshot eyes, looking just as broken as that day i first spoke to him. "hi, honey. come in."

"sorry," he mumbles, closing the door behind him. "i'm sure me always showing up in the middle of the night is annoying but—"

"it's not," i insist, rubbing my hand up and down his arm. "so come on. let's go lay down."

he follows me into my bedroom and claims the side of the bed he always does, waiting for me to get in and turn off the light before he curls up at my side. we assume our usual position— spencer's head on my chest, his leg over my hips, and my hand in his hair. he nearly purrs as i scratch his scalp and wipe stray tears from his cheeks.

"do you wanna talk about it?" i whisper in the darkness.

"no," he whispers back. "just wanna do this."

spencer is out like a light in no time, and i'm left to the silence by myself. but at least now, there's no more silence between the two of us. there's laughter and happiness and joy when we're near. and for now, i decide as i hold spencer in my arms, i'm content with just that.

i sink further into bed and pull spencer closer. he hums and tucks his head into my neck, nuzzling his nose against my skin in the same way socks does. i close my eyes and drift off into the silence.