I lower my gun as I watch Morgan throw him against the wall and put him in handcuffs. We have just arrested the unsub. He was trying to have a male child for his dying wife. I free the women who are stuck in the cells and head upstairs with the team.

-

On the jet, I pull out a journal, and write about what is on my mind.

3/27/2013

Hi. So, I just started a job at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, and let me just say, some of these cases are getting to me. They remind me of a time in childhood. The time I was almost killed by a murderer. He is known as the snowman. He killed families of four when they had just come in from playing outside in the winter. He entered the homes from whatever side they weren't on, and waited. Then, when he came in, he killed the parents first. He slit the father's throat, and then grabbed the woman, and stabbed her 30-40 times. By then, the children had tried to run upstairs, or outside. In my case, I ran outside, and my brother ran upstairs. I just remember running as fast as I could, and then hid behind a tree, watching for when he leaves.

About 20 minutes later, he walked out of my home, probably looking for me. When he couldn't find me, he got very angry, and shot random bullets all around. You're probably wondering: why didn't anyone hear? Well, I lived in a very isolated area. People probably just thought someone was hunting. Anyway, a bullet passed me, and was about 2 centimeters away from the side of my head. Then I heard him leave in his truck.

To this day, the snowman has never been caught. I think the fact that he didn't kill me is what made him stop, considering we were the last family murdered. I just remember walking back into my house and seeing my parents stabbed, and my brother shot. It was traumatizing.

Some of these cases remind me of that. The blood. The guns. Personally, I don't know what prompted me to join the BAU. I think I just want to catch people like the Snowman, and possibly the Snowman himself. Anyway, I just needed to get that out. You'll probably hear from me soon.

"What are you writing?" Spencer asks, taking a seat next to me.

"Just getting some feelings out and things that have been bothering me." I answer, turning to meet his eyes.

"Oh. can I read it?" He responds, reaching out for my journal.

I inch it away from him. "It's kind of personal. I don't really like to share the things I write in here. Maybe another day."

He nods understandingly. "I get it. Don't sweat it, Stells."

"Stells?" I say, chuckling.

"What? Morgan isn't the only one with nicknames." He lets out a laugh, and it is one of the first times I have seen him genuinely laugh. It was kind of refreshing.

I smile at him. "Well, we have about an hour or two left, I think I'm going to take a quick nap."

He nods, and pulls out his own book. War and Peace, of course.

-

I feel the wheels of the plane touch down as I am awaken from my nap. Spencer finished War and Peace, and had dozed off. I lightly shake him awake as we are allowed to get off of the plane.

After I gather my belongings, I turn to him. "Hal's?" I question, waiting for his response.

"Sure. I've just got to grab some things from my desk before we go."

"I'll walk with you." I answer.

"20 bucks says that they do it by the end of the year." I hear morgan whisper to JJ behind me. I just roll my eyes and keep walking. Little do they know.

We walk into Hal's, ordering our usual, and taking a seat.

We are just making small talk when I finally say something. "Let's play a game."

"Uh, what game?"

"You share a deep secret, I share a deep secret."

He is taken aback by the game I suggested. "Uh, sure." He clears his throat. "Do you want to go first or do you want me to?"

I respond, staring into his hazel eyes. "I can go first."

I take a deep breath, inhale and exhale. Then, I begin.

"Have you ever heard of the snowman?" I ask him.

"That serial killer from the late 80s?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Yes. I've looked into some of his cases, but don't know much about it. I know he killed 4 families of 4 by waiting in the house while their families played in the snow."

"Actually, it was 3 families of 4 and 1 family of 3 that he killed. The reason it was only 3, was because I was the fourth out of the last family he killed. while he chased after my brother upstairs, I ran out the door, and ran as fast as I could. When he couldn't find me, he came outside and shot random bullets, emptying his magazine. One grazed right by my head. A couple centimeters and I wouldn't be sitting here right now." I finish, looking down at my hands that are sitting on the table.

Spencer reaches out and takes one of my hands in his. "Stella, I am so sorry. Nobody should ever have to go through that. May I ask, is that what you were writing about earlier?"

I nod. "Alright, enough of that. Tell me a deep secret." I respond.

"Okay um, well, my mom is a paranoid schizophrenic. Because of this, she would often have episodes. As you know, I am pretty much a genius, so I graduated high school at 12. One of the prettiest girls in school told me she liked me back in high school, and told her to meet me outside after school. She blindfolded me, and stripped me and tied me to the goalpost. They took lots of pictures. My mom didn't even notice when I got home at midnight that night, and not 3:30 like I usually do."

"Oh my, that's terrible. Where was your dad?"

Spencer gulped, and took a deep breath. "Oh, uh, he left. Just walked out on us, and I haven't seen him since."

I grabbed his hand. "Spence, I am so sorry. That must've been terrible."

He nods. "Well, at least we both had a traumatic childhood." He says, trying to form a smile.

I let out a slight chuckle. "Yes, that is true."

We throw away our cups and walk out the door, and he asks if I want to crash at his place. We drove together here, and Quantico is in a different direction from his apartment.

"Sure. I don't see why not." I answer with a smile.

-

I walk into his apartment and am taken off guard by the walls and walls of books that he has.

"Okay, so you can sleep on the couch or with me in bed. I don't really care either way. It's not like we haven't slept together." He exclaims, a slight smile spreading across his face.

I laugh. "I can take the couch if you want me to."

"I wouldn't want you to do that. Just sleep with me. It's fine." He answers.

"Okay. Well, it's late. I'm going to get changed and brush my teeth and then I'll be in." I respond, not wanting to argue on sleeping arrangements.

I walk into his bathroom with my go bag and pull out a pair of short grey Under Armour shorts, and an oversized Outer Banks tee shirt I got on vacation last year. I put my hair in a high messy bun and brush my teeth and wash my face. I take out my contacts and put on my glasses. I exit the bathroom, and am greeted by Spencer in bed, reading yet another book.

He looks up at me, and is almost astonished by my

messy appearance.

"Remember when we were all over each other just a couple of weeks ago." he asks me as I lay down next to him.

"Spencer!" I playfully smack his arm, my mouth gaping open.

"Come on, not even a kiss?" He pleads.

"Fine. 1 kiss." I answer, almost cut off by the feeling of his lips on mine. He drops his book on the floor and immediately pulls himself on top of me. His hands ride up my shirt and I shiver at his touch on my bare skin.

He reaches my breasts and massages them slowly. Just as he is about to go further, I pull away.

"What happened to just a kiss?" I ask, smirking.

"That was just to get this going." He answers, running his finger along the waistband of his shorts.

I give him one more kiss. "Well, you're just going to have to wait." I answer.

He sighs and lays back down next to me. "Can we at least cuddle?" He asks.

"I mean, why not?" I answer, cuddling up against his bare chest, and feeling his arms wrap around me. I quickly fall asleep in Spencer Reid's arms.

A/N: this isn't related to the story, but #BLACKLIVESMATTER . #BLM . #JUSTICEFORGEORGEFLOYD . the acts of those police officers are completely intolerable and they should all be arrested for murder.