Safe Haven

Stephie

The safe house is a small, an unassuming cabin tucked away in the woods. As soon as we step inside, the tension that's been gnawing at my insides for days doesn't ease up. Instead, it tightens, like a noose around my neck. Spencer gently shuts the door behind us, and I feel his eyes on me, searching for something, reassurance, maybe? Answers? I can't even tell anymore.

The silence is heavy, interrupted only by the soft creak of the wooden floor as we move through the space. Spencer doesn't say anything at first, just walks over to the couch and sits down. He looks exhausted, his normally sharp eyes dulled by everything that's happened. I wish I could go to him, curl up in his arms, and pretend this nightmare isn't real, but I know that's not an option anymore. Not with everything out in the open.

I drop my bag by the door, feeling the weight of the day dragging me down. The urge to run—to escape all of this—is overwhelming, but I force myself to move forward, to sit down beside Spencer. The space between us feels like a chasm.

"I'm sorry," I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. I know it's not enough, not even close, but I don't have anything else to give.

Spencer looks at me, really looks at me, and I can see the hurt in his eyes. "I know you are," he says quietly. "But that doesn't make this any easier, Stephie."

I nod, swallowing hard. "I never wanted you to find out like this. I thought...I thought if I could just keep it buried, I could protect you."

He shakes his head, a small, sad smile on his lips. "You can't protect me by shutting me out. That's not how this works."

This?

The tears I've been holding back start to spill over, and I quickly swipe them away with the back of my hand. "I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't want you to think of me differently."

"You're still the same person to me," he says, and I can hear the conviction in his voice. "But you can't keep hiding things."

I nod again, feeling the truth of his words settle in. "I know. I just... I'm so scared, Spencer. He's my father. And I know what he's capable of."

Spencer reaches out, his hand finding mine and squeezing it gently. His actions alone are a lifeline, pulling me back from the edge. I squeeze his hand back, holding on to that promise.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says softly.

I want to believe him—I need to believe him. Spencer's reassurance should be comforting, but the dread gnawing at my insides only intensifies. I want to believe we'll get through this, but my father isn't just another criminal; he's a force of nature, one that's always had a dark hold over me. No matter how far I've run, his shadow has always loomed behind me.

Spencer stands, still holding my hand, and leads me to the small kitchen. "You should eat something," he says gently. "You haven't had anything all day."

I nod, though the thought of food makes my stomach churn. But I go through the motions, accepting the sandwich he makes and trying to swallow a few bites. The silence between us is different now—no longer thick with unspoken secrets, but still heavy with the weight of what's to come.

"Do you think they'll catch him?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly. It's a question I've been afraid to ask, but I need to hear the answer, even if it terrifies me.

Spencer pauses, then sits across from me at the small table, his expression thoughtful. "We have one of the best teams in the world, Stephie. They won't stop until they bring him in. And we have you. You know him better than anyone."

"That's what I'm afraid of," I whisper. "That I know him too well. He's always been a step ahead, always had an escape plan. He's smart, Spencer. And he's ruthless."

Spencer's eyes soften with understanding, but I can see the determination there too. "Then we'll have to be smarter. We'll plan for everything, every possible move he could make. And we won't let him take you."

I want to believe him, but the memories of my father's cruelty, his ability to manipulate and control, are too vivid. I push the half-eaten sandwich away, my appetite gone. "He's going to come for me," I say, my voice small and defeated. "He won't stop until he has me back under his control. He always said I was his greatest asset."

Spencer reaches across the table, taking my hand again. "You're not an asset, Steph. You're a person. And we're going to protect you, no matter what."

I look into his eyes, searching for the confidence I need to borrow because I'm fresh out of it myself. His hand is warm in mine, grounding me in this moment, reminding me that I'm not alone.

But the fear doesn't fade. It lingers, a dark cloud hanging over everything, reminding me that my father is out there, somewhere, plotting his next move.

The night stretches on, each hour crawling by in a haze of restless tension. We set up the small bedroom, but neither of us sleep much. Spencer tries to comfort me, staying close, but not too close. He sits on the other side of the bed, away from me.

My mind won't shut off. Every creak of the house, every rustle of the wind outside, sets my nerves on edge.

When the first light of dawn creeps through the curtains, I'm still wide awake, my body exhausted but my mind racing. Spencer stirs beside me, his arm draped protectively over my waist. I'm not sure how he got there, I'm not opposed to it. For a moment, I close my eyes and pretend that we're anywhere else—that we're just a happy couple, waking up to a new day without the weight of the world pressing down on us.

But reality crashes back in, harsh and unforgiving. I know today could be the day everything changes, the day my father makes his move.

"I'm going to call the team," Spencer says quietly, quickly moving his arm off my body. "See if there are any updates." He didn't sleep either.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. My throat feels tight, my heart heavy.

As Spencer leaves the room, I sit up in bed, pulling the blanket around me like it could shield me from the storm that's coming.

I stand and move to the window, peering out into the dense woods that surround the cabin. The trees sway gently in the morning breeze, their leaves whispering secrets I can't quite hear. I'm struck by how peaceful it looks out there. But I know better. I know that peace is just an illusion, a fragile thing that can shatter with the smallest push. And when the shattering comes, I'm not sure if I'll be able to pick up the pieces.

"Nothing yet," Spencer says, standing in the doorway behind me. I turn around and give him a light smile before turning back tolook outside. 

I can feel him getting closer, until his breath is against me. Every bone in my body tells me to stop but, my heart tells me to turn around and kiss him.

I fear that I've always followed my heart.

I grab his shoulders and pull him towards my lips, he doesn't even second guess himself as he grabs my face and deepens our kiss. I'm the one to make the move, I push him backwards until he stumbles back onto the bed. 

I break the kiss to trail them down his neck, I've waited so long for this. Spencer groaned, his hands sliding down to grip my hips, pulling me against him so I could feel his hard cock straining against the fabric of his pants. "Stephie, we shouldn't be doing this," he whispered, even as his hands began to roam, caressing my thighs, slipping under my shirt to touch my soft skin.

I didn't even know he had this side to him, I like it though. Scratch that, I love it.

"I know," I breathe, my eyes fluttering closed as I relish the feel of his hands on my body. "But I want you, Spencer. I've wanted you for so long."

I sit up, taking his face in my hands, I kiss him deeply, pouring all my pent-up desire into the kiss. Spencer groaned again, his hands moving up to cup my breasts, massaging them through my shirt. I arch into his touch, my nipples hardening at his attention.

With deft fingers, I undid the buttons of my shirt, baring my breasts to his hungry gaze. Spencer's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight. He looks nervous but, he also looked like he was starving.

My hands moved to the buckle of his belt, quickly unfastening it and popping the button on his pants. I slide my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around his hard cock, and give it a slow, sensuous stroke. "God, Spencer," I whisper, my eyes shining with lust as I took in the sight of him, veins throbbing, pre-cum beading at the tip. I had a feeling it was big, but holy fucking shit.

Spencers breath comes in sharp gasps as I pump my hand up and down his length. "Fuck, Steph, your hand feels so good, but I.." He stops talking, as if he's about to say something he shouldn't say. We're already doing things we shouldn't be doing, mind as we'll say it.

My heart races, "Say it Spence," I mumble pulling back from him.

"I want you." He mumbles back and so grin.

"Do you?" I tease, knowing I'm thinking the exact same thing he is.

"More than anything," he growled, his eyes raking over my almost naked body.

With a lustful smile, I hook my thumbs into my panties and slowly peeled them off, I positioned myself above his hard cock, taking the tip inside, teasing us both. This is such a bad idea.

"Are you sure about this, Spence? Because once I sit down, we can't turn back." I chuckle and he rolls his eyes at my sarcastic tone.

"I'm sure, so fucking sure," he groaned, his eyes rolling back as I sank down inch by inch, taking more of him inside. I bit my lip trying to suppress the sudden pressure.

We both moaned loudly, the sound filling the room as I began to ride him, my hips moving in slow, sensual circles.

Spencer's hands gripped my thighs, his thumbs brushing against the wetness below me as I rode him.  "Fuck me," he grunted, his eyes fixed on where our bodies were joined.

"I literally am." I can't help it, he was asking for that one. He doesn't say anything but he shakes his head with a grin, squeezing into my thighs a little harder

I throw my head back as I increased the pace, riding him harder. Our bodies moved together in perfect sync, the bed creaking beneath us as our rhythm became more frenzied.

Spencer reached between us, rubbing my clit in circles as I rode him, driving me wild. "Cum for me, baby,"

Baby? That's new for him.

His dirty words sent me over the edge, and I cried out as my orgasm washed over me, my pussy clenching and unclenching around his cock. Spencer groaned, feeling me contract around him, and with a few more sharp thrusts of my hips, he followed me, quickly moving away so he didn't finish inside of my body.

Panting, I collapse against his chest, my heart pounding against his.

"That was incredible," I whispered, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

Spencer kissed the top of my head, his arms tightening around me. "It was," he agrees, his breath evening out as he held me close.

As we lay here, the reality of what we had just done began to sink in. Our relationship was complicated, and being holed up in a safe house didn't change that. But, for now, we had each other, and in the heat of the moment, it was enough for us both.

An hour has passed and I keep thinking about how maybe we should be laying in a safe house bed naked. But I can't bring myself to get up and Spencer is knocked out, so I stayed curled close to his chest. He smells so good, well he smells like sex but his cologne still lingers. I can't believe we did that. We dated for months and never had sex, now the moment we're not together it happens? I blame the factor of me possibly not being alive tomorrow morning.

My phone buzzes on the counter next to me, I figure it's Derek or JJ but it's not. It's a text message.

Blowing your father off to blow a guy?

I shoot straight up in bed and shake Spencer who is very confused. I just hand him myphone and his eyes widen. He grabs his own phone and calls who i imagine would be Hotch or Gideon. I crawl out bed, a sheet wrapped around my body and shut the blinds. I quickly find whatever clothes I had on before and put them back, throwing Spencer his shirt and pants after.

Millions of thoughts race through my mind as I try to make sense of the situation. "Spence, what if the only way to solve this is to just meet with him?"

Spencer flashes me a look of concern, "No, that's not happening. Give the team time to get their plan off the ground."

I nod, I don't know what got into me. But I do know what I need to do, Spencer won't like it, he doesn't have to, but it's what has to be done.

"Hotch said it's probably because you saw leaving work with me, and nobody's up here. I didn't give him specifics and I left out the part where we..." He fiddles with his hands. "Coincidence." He says and stands up to leave the room.

I'm not sure where he's going but it gives me time to respond the message.

When and where?

I get a reply in seconds.

You know where, 8 o'clock tonight.

Now just to sneak past Spencer. That's not going to be easy.

I glance at the clock on the wall—7:15. I have forty-five minutes to figure this out.

My mind races, running through every possible excuse, every possible way to leave without Spencer suspecting a thing. He's not stupid; he'll know something is off. I need a distraction, something that will keep him occupied long enough for me to slip away.

I feel a pang of guilt. I hate lying, believe it or not, but I have to. I grab my bag, checking to make sure I have everything I need. I won't have much time once I'm out the door. I glance around the room one last time, then take a deep breath. I'm doing this for the right reasons, I tell myself. It's the only way to protect him, to protect everyone.

With one final look towards the door, I quietly slip out of the room, my heart pounding in my ears. Spencer is somewhere in the house, but I don't know where. I need to move fast.

I make my way down the stairs, keeping close to the walls to minimize the sound of my footsteps. Every creak in the floorboards feels like a gunshot, but I push forward, my mind focused on the plan.

As I reach the front door, I pause, holding my breath. I can hear Spencer's voice, faint but clear, coming from one of the back rooms. He's on the phone, probably with Hotch or someone from the team. This is my chance.

With one swift motion, I open the door and slip outside, closing it quietly behind me. The cool night air hits me like a wave, but I don't stop to savor it. I head straight for the car parked in the driveway, my hands trembling as I fumble with the keys.

Finally, the engine roars to life, and I pull out of the driveway, my heart pounding. I'm doing this. There's no turning back now.

As I drive down the dark road, my mind races with what's to come. I know this is dangerous, possibly even reckless, but it's the only way. I have to meet him. I have to end this.

For Spencer. For the team. For myself.

The drive feels like an eternity, the roads blurring together as my mind spins with doubt and fear. What am I doing? But I know the answer—this is the only way. I have to face him, end this once and for all, before anyone else gets hurt.

The city lights fade as I approach the old warehouse district, a place I never thought I'd see again. My father owns it, under a different identity of course. He's owns many like them around the country, some in every state he deals with business in. Memories flood back—dark, twisted memories of a life I've tried so hard to forget.

I pull into a secluded spot and kill the engine, the sudden silence almost unbearable. My hands tremble as I grip the steering wheel, trying to steady my breathing. I stare at the warehouse ahead, its shadow looming over me like a ghost from my past.

This is it. No turning back now.

I force myself out of the car, feeling to make sure my gun is in my belt. Every step toward the warehouse feels like a battle against my own fear, but I push forward. I've come too far to stop now.

The metal door groans as I push it open, the sound echoing through the cavernous space. Inside, the warehouse is dim, the faint glow from a few overhead lights barely cutting through the darkness. I step inside, my heart pounding in my chest, my eyes scanning every shadow.

Then I hear it—that voice. His voice.

"Stepheni. I knew you'd come."

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat. He steps out of the shadows, and I see him—older, worn, but still the same man who once ruled my life. My father.

I swallow the lump in my throat and meet his gaze, refusing to let him see my fear. "I'm not here for a reunion, Dad."

He chuckles, that same cold, mocking laugh that haunted my childhood. "You always were a stubborn one. But you didn't think you could do this alone, did you?"

Before I can react, I feel the presence of his men—one on each side, grabbing my arms. Panic surges, but I force it down. I can't afford to lose my head now.

"I'm not alone," I say, my voice steady. "The FBI is closing in on you, and there's no way out this time."

For a split second, I see something flicker in his eyes—uncertainty, maybe fear—but it's gone just as quickly.

"Right, you're an FBI agent now. Should have known you'd turn a leaf after you tried to take me down," He nods to his men, and they tighten their grips on me, dragging me closer.

"Please," I'm cut off by my father speaking again.

"I'm not here to hurt you Stepheni, if I wanted you dead, you would've died a long time ago. I simply just missed my daughter." He's smiling, he's lying.

I struggle against them, trying to think of a way out, but before I can act, I hear it—screeching tires, the unmistakable sound of backup. My heart leaps. Spencer.

The warehouse doors slam open, and I see them—Spencer, Hotch, the entire team rushing in, weapons drawn. Spencer knew I left before I even decided I was leaving.

"FBI! Drop your weapons!" Hotch's voice cuts through the tension like a knife.

The men holding me hesitate, their grips loosening just enough. And then, Spencer is there, his gun trained on the man closest to me, his eyes burning with determination. "Let her go."

For a moment, everything hangs in the balance. Then, as if sensing they've lost, the men release me and raise their hands in surrender. I stumble back, free but shaking, my mind racing to catch up with what's happening.

But my father doesn't move. "You stupid idiots!" My father yells at the two men before his eyes lock onto mine, and I see it again—fear, regret, something I've never seen in him before. But he doesn't back down.

"This isn't over, Stepheni, remember if I go down, you go down with me." he says, his voice low and dangerous, a final threat. A promise.

My heart pounds with the weight of everything I've lost, everything I've fought for. He's right, I shouldn't have lead the team to him. My life mind as well be over because when my father tells them what i've done I'll be right with him in prison.

Hotch and the others move in, securing him and his men. I stand there, watching as the man who controlled my life for so long is finally taken away in cuffs. It's over. It's really over. That's what I want to feel but I don't because I know it's not over, it's never over.

I feel a hand on my arm—Spencer. He's beside me, his touch gentle, his eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

The question hits me hard, the enormity of it all crashing down on me. But for the first time in what feels like forever, I can breathe. The fear, the weight, it's all starting to lift.

"I am now," I whisper, leaning into him, feeling his warmth, his comfort. He wraps his arm around me, holding me close as the others deal with the aftermath.

Standing there, in his arms, I know things will never be the same. But I also know that whatever comes next, I won't have to face it alone. And that gives me more strength than I ever thought I had.

As for me sneaking out of the safe house and lying, that's something we can deal with later. My only concern right now is what my father will say to Hotch in an interrogation room.

—————————AN: guys literally whattttt. i have to work tmrw and the day after that and have cheer practice!?!?

anyway i'm still on that writing grind.

school starts back up in a week and i'm gonna cry cuz what the fuck. what the actual fuck?????? ur telling me i gotta take these classes serious to get credits 😔 i just wanna be silly.

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