Chapter Text
When you met Dr. Spencer Reid, it was long before he was a doctor and long before he even knew what a Ph.D. was. You met Spencer Reid when you were both 6 years old.
It was a hot day in Las Vegas, your hair in messy pigtails and dirty sneakers on your feet. You had been on the swing set when you noticed him for the third time. It seemed that you both went to the park on Sundays. But the boy with glasses never played on the playground. He was always with other grown-ups playing some sort of board game.
Today though you noticed the boy was playing by himself until another bigger boy approached him. You started to stop yourself on the swing, your sneakers kicking up sand as you slowed down to stop. That's when the bigger boy shoved the other one off the bench.
You got off the swing and walked towards the scene.
"Freak!" You heard from the bigger boy. The smaller boy was on the ground, looking terrified.
"Leave him alone!" You shouted. The boy turned and it became clear that he was near twice your size.
The boy looked back at you and then to his attacker, his shock clear on his face.
“What did you say you little puke?” The bully now turned his attention on you.
Voice strong you replied, “Leave him alone.”
That’s when the bully swung to hit you. The hit hurt but nothing terrible. You grab the bully’s arm and remember what your older brother taught you to do if you get picked on. Bite. Hard.
So that’s exactly what you do. Your teeth sink in and he immediately starts crying before you let go. The bully shoves you hard and you hit the ground, skinning your elbow. He runs away whining. The smaller boy with glasses approaches you, he slides his glasses back up his nose. He extends his hand to you, you take it and he helps you up.
“You’re bleeding” He points out. You check out your elbow and confirm you are in fact bleeding.
“Hold on a second” The boy reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bandaid. Carefully he applies the bandaid to your skinned elbow. You wince in pain. “Sorry,” the boy tells you.
“Thank you for the bandaid”
“Thank you for biting Robbie Banks. He’s a jerk”
“Is he always mean to you?” You sit down at the cement table. Little toy pieces sit on top of little squares. The boy sits across from you.
“It’s worse at school, I’m a lot younger than everyone else in my grade.” He arranges the toy pieces on the table, organizing them on each of the squares.
“What is this game?” You ask.
“Chess. Want me to teach you how to play?”
“Sure. What’s your name anyway?”
“Spencer and yours?”
“Y/N.”
“That’s pretty. So first thing to know is that white moves first and then we take turns…”
After that day you and Spencer were best friends. At least for most of the time.