I promise I'm not completely evil. Anyway, enjoy another chapter brought to you by sleep deprivation and a lack of understanding of physics.

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Susan was lying on the ground, blood seeping from her shoulder. You let go of the breath you were holding, dropping the gun and crying. Spencer pulled you into his arms and hugged you gently. "You're safe my love. You're safe."

"Spencer, I killed her. Oh my god I killed her."

Hotch walked over to Susan, kicking the gun away from her before leaning down. "There's a pulse," he said, signaling for the EMTs to enter.

"She's alive Y/N. You didn't kill her."

"I didn't?" You asked, looking up at him.

"No baby, you didn't. You saved my life Y/N," he said gently, kissing your forehead. You pressed your face into his chest.

"Spence I was so scared I would never see you again. You know I didn't sleep with Nate right?" You have to believe me, I love you. Please, don't leave me."

"Shhh pretty girl, I believe you. Now, let's get you checked out at the hospital. You've had a terrible 24 hours and I want to make sure everything's ok."

"You know I don't like hospitals," you argued, standing up. Spencer scooped you into his arms, kissing your forehead. "Yeah, well, I really don't care," he muttered, carrying you out of the building. Lola and Nate stood by the police barricade, running towards you as soon as Spencer and you came out of the building. Spencer placed you down gently, Lola and Nate immediately wrapping their arms around you.

"We were worried sick Y/N." Nate said softly.

"Mon petite belle, are you ok?" Lola asked, gently.

"I'm ok, I promise. Just tell me that you didn't believe what Susan made me say?"

"Never. My cousin is certifiably insane, I didn't even blink when you said it," Lola said, kissing your temple.

"Spencer didn't believe it either, Y/N," Nate interjected. "Although he did punch a hole in the wall."

You turned and looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he stood by the ambulance, getting his hand bandaged.** The EMT came over and sat you down. Spencer followed, holding your hand. "I'm not telling you how to do your job but she should probably get a CT," he muttered.

"Ignore him," you said, leaning your head against his shoulder, thankful for his presence.

A few hours later you were in a hospital bed against your will. The ER doctor wanted to keep you overnight for observation, just in case. You did not want to, for many reasons. Spencer went home to change and came back in record speed. You scooted over, patting your bed.

He complied, nestling against you in the small bed, holding you gently but also close. "Move in with me," he whispered, making you look at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"Move in with me. Garcia told me about the White House project. You're moving back, right? So just move in to my apartment with me," he muttered, kissing your knuckles.

"Spence, are you sure?"

"Please," he urged. "I never want to spend a day without you again."

"Spencer," you began. "I love you. But I can't move in with you," you whispered. Spencer pulled away from you, looking hurt.

"Why?" He asked, glancing down at the ground. "Do you not think we're serious?"

"Baby," you muttered, lifting his chin. "I can't move in with you because Garcia already found us a new place," you whispered, kissing him. He smiled against your lips, tracing your tailbone with his fingers.

"I'd buy you a mansion," he replied, resting his forehead against yours.

"No mansion needed. But this new place is beautiful. It's a brownstone perfectly in the middle of our commutes."

"Let's go see it tomorrow," he muttered. "Wait, when did you and Garcia have time to figure this out?"

"She started looking the second you found me. That girl is a genie I swear," you joked. Spencer nodded, kissing your forehead.

"One condition," Spencer said, caressing your cheek. You raised your eyebrows, confused. "I'm paying for it," he muttered.

"Spencer, no!" You said, sitting up and pulling away. "No way."

"Y/N, I have the funds. Please, let me," he whispered, reaching for your waist.

"Spencer, I said no. Besides, if you keep spending all of your money on me, you won't have any left."

"Trust me love, that's highly unlikely."

"Spence, I'm not with you because of your money, you know this right?" Spencer nodded, kissing your hand. "But how much do you actually make?"

"Well, my starting salary was $120,000 but now it's almost $200,000. And I've been with the FBI for 9 years at this point. So you do the math," he said plainly. You widened your eyes, blinking rapidly.

"Spencer, tell me you're not a millionaire," you whispered.

"No, no. But I'm comfortable. I don't usually spend a lot, other than my mom's facility charges, rent, and the trips to Vegas. But still, money isn't something you need to worry about."

"Rich, intelligent and good looking, how is it that you were single?" you teased, kissing his jawline softly.

"Pretty, smart, and funny, how is it that you were single," he retorted. You shook your head, laying it back down on his chest, his rhythmic heartbeat bringing you peace.

"I was waiting for you, I just didn't know it."