Chapter Text
November 17th, 2011
Spencer Reid had always been an enigma, a man with an IQ that was off the charts, who had dedicated his life to righting the wrongs of the world he'd been born into. Few people knew him, and even they knew only what Spencer wanted to tell them. In their eyes, Spencer was a nerdy guy that worked remotely for a highly respected, yet secret corporation that needed him for his geniuses. That's the story that the young genius had stuck with ever since he started patrolling the nights as an eighteen-year-old boy with a PhD and more pain than any teenager should ever be subjected to. When he'd been younger, he'd found it hard to use his genius as a cover, but nowadays Spencer didn't mind bragging if it meant that his true identity remained unknown to the rest of the world.
Ah, the world. The world always complicated things more than it should. The world had given Spencer a name, Nightwave. And although Spencer didn't particularly like it, or thought it was clever, it was the one he was stuck with after the media had run with it on national television a few years back. The good thing that came with the name was that Nightwave's reputation as one of the most skilled and feared vigilantes in the world preceded him, and it also couldn't sound more different from Dr Spencer Reid, the nerdy guy who loved sweaters and claimed to be afraid of the dark.
It wasn't fully a lie, Spencer thought each time he'd catch himself telling someone that he was scared of the dark. He really did. Or, he used to at least. Nowadays, he just hates it. He hates the dark and he hates the evil, horrible things that people get away with once darkness falls.
He hates himself some days too. He hates himself whenever someone innocent dies on his watch. He knows the police call them "casualties", but in his eyes, the innocent lives taken during his showdowns with criminals are his failures. And in the ten years of him cleaning up the streets from evil, he's failed four times; each one tucked away in his heart forever, reminding him that he's not that much above the very evil he hunts every day. It's a sobering thought that never allows Spencer to make a mistake. He can't afford to, because then, his failures would have been for nothing.
"Hey man, you okay?" Derek asked, noticing the way Spencer hadn't touched the food on his plate for a while.
Spencer visibly flinched, distancing himself from the overwhelming thoughts running around in his brain. "Yeah, I'm good. Just lost in thought."
"Anything you want to talk about?" Derek asked, his tone genuine, as he sipped his coffee slowly.
Spencer shook his head. "No, it's nothing. Just work stuff."
"Well, if you ever need to talk, I'm here for you, man," Derek said, clapping Spencer on the back.
Spencer felt a twinge of guilt pierce through his abdomen.
The rational side of him screamed at him to leave the diner then and there. He couldn't let Derek get too close, not when he was the very thing the BAU was looking for. Derek and his team were profilers. They profiled and went after criminals, and Spencer was exactly that, a criminal.
Spencer knew he couldn't risk losing everything he'd worked for, only because he liked the feeling of having a friend. He wasn't a child, he didn't need someone to share his secrets with on the playground. But at the same time, a small part of him, the only one that wasn't thoroughly numbed yet even after years of trauma and suffering, was telling him to stay. A tiny piece of Spencer Reid felt hopeful after a very long time. He felt as if he was finally given the chance to stop feeling so goddamn lonely, so miserable, so unwanted all of the time. Derek, Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan, wanted to be his friend, and Spencer wanted to let him.
"Thanks, Derek. I appreciate that," Spencer said, feeling torn.
"No problem, Reid. That's what friends are for, kid," Derek replied, smiling.
August 5th, 2013
"Striking terror into the hearts of criminals everywhere, a master of disguise with a cunning intellect that makes him nearly impossible to catch." Derek read out loud as he and Spencer were eating Chinese takeout at Derek's apartment.
He placed the newspaper down on the table with a sigh. "I hate how right they are,"
"Is that written for that 'Nightwave' guy?" Spencer's shoulders tensed slightly as he tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.
Derek nodded, unable to stop himself from expressing his frustration with the latest case that the BAU was working on. "He's been causing trouble for years now," Derek said. "We can never seem to catch him. He's always one step ahead."
Spencer's breath caught in his throat and he almost choked on his food.
"Dude, you good? You should chew your food before you swallow it you know..." Derek's attempt at a joke flew right past Spencer's head when he realized that the BAU was now on his trail. His mind was racing. He had no idea that Derek was working on his case. Derek hadn’t mentioned anything. This was bad.
"You guys... You guys have been working the case?" He asked slowly, trying to sound more curious than panicked.
"We just started. The bureau transferred it to us after they got a lead about three weeks ago," Derek took a bite of his own food before continuing. "It's bullshit if you ask me. We're no closer to getting him, and to be fair, a part of me wants to thank this guy,"
"How- How come?" Spencer pushed, now genuinely curious as to why his rule-following, law-abiding, friend would ever want to thank the vigilante.
"I don't know kid, I've been working in the system for more than a decade now, and sometimes, sometimes we gotta let bastards go free cause of red tape and lack of evidence. I've had to personally unshackle criminals that have been found not guilty because they are too rich, too powerful, or too lucky. It sucks. At least, this guy does something about it." Derek sighed. "Unfortunately, that's not how the world works though. We need to figure out who this guy is and bring him to justice despite what I might think. He simply can't just keep operating outside the law."
"Yeah, no you're right," Spencer said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I've been looking into the news, and it seems like this guy has some sort of a moral compass at least. At least he doesn't go around killing people for fun."
"That he doesn't." Derek nodded before getting up and making his way to the kitchen. "Do you want a drink?"
Spencer rushed to put on his jacket before he could change his mind. "No, thanks. I should head out anyway,"
"Aren't you gonna stay to see Hank? Savannah's dropping him off in like half an hour." Derek asked his eyebrows furrowed.
"No. I- I'll see him some other day. Say hi to the little guy from me."