Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sunlight fell in shards through the high-rise windows, catching on the edges of Spencer’s dark coat as he walked. The streets of Washington buzzed with life, but all of it felt distant to him, as though he were moving through a faintly colored haze. His mind was not on the traffic, not on the crowds, not even on the music spilling from a corner café. It was on their last case. On their deaths. On the mutant victims whose lives had ended in ways he could not reconcile.

He had come back from the scene hours ago, from the blood and chaos, and tried to file his notes, to keep up the facade of normality. They had found the unsubs but they chose to end it, suiside by cop. It was over but his body had been shaking, subtle at first, then insistent, until he finally allowed himself to lean against the edge of his apartment’s desk and close his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. He got up and went out, he needed to think properly, not being continued by walls.

Even so, he could feel the residue of instinct clinging to him, his muscles tense, nails sharp beneath the fabric of his gloves, ears attuned to the faintest scrape of movement from outside. The case itself was relatively simple to solve, they would have been done within the first three days if it was not for the offices they were working with. The words they said burned in his mind, the pure hatred from them.

"We should be giving them a meddle.”

“Little mutants got what they deserved."

“Pudlic survise killings.”

All of the people that were supposed to be protecting them, hated what they were. They actively tried to stop them from catching the murderer because they didn’t deem the victims were people to kill. The entire case had Spencer messed up, he didn’t know what to think or what to do. He needed to talk to someone to let it out but he didn't want Hotch to think of him differently or think he couldn’t handle this part of the job.

The decision had been building since the start of the case, crystallizing in his mind like a prism refracting light he could not hide. He needed someone else to understand, someone that was eager to talk to and someone that would listen. Tonight, he would tell JJ. She was the one he trusted, the one who had always brought him a kind of warmth that settled the storm inside him. She had listened before, really listened, without judgment. And after this last case, after seeing mutants hunted and left for dead while the authorities shrugged, he could no longer carry the secret alone.

He adjusted the strap of his messenger bag, feeling the weight of it and the predictable why it bumped against him. His tail had been hidden so carefully since the start of the case, bounded so tightly it had bruised. But tonight he left it unbound but wrapped around his waste and tonight it would be shared.

The walk was longer than it felt. Each step was punctuated by a swirl of thoughts and fears: Would she be shocked? Afraid? Would she understand? Could anyone truly understand what it meant to live as he did, to constantly navigate a world that could never see him fully without reacting with fear?

By the time he reached JJ’s home, the sky had deepened into a bruised twilight. Spencer took a deep breath and smoothed the front of his coat. The sound of his own heartbeat was loud in his ears, as though it were marking the seconds until he crossed the threshold. He knocked, his fingers curling slightly with tension, tail shifting in anticipation and nerves under his coat.

“Spencer! Come in,” JJ’s voice called after opening the door. He stepped into the warm, familiar glow of her home. Immediately, the tension in his shoulders did not release; it only shifted inward, coiling tighter.

JJ’s eyes softened as she took in his posture, the way he kept one hand fidgeting with the strap of his bag, the other brushing against his thigh as if seeking reassurance. “You okay?” she asked.

“Yeah..I. Yeah” he said, but his voice was low, uneven. He could feel the words trembling, and they were only a prelude to what he had really come to say. He took his coat off and hung it in the rake there, swallowing nervously. He moved to the couch fidgeting unsure how to proside, he knew what he was going to do but how can he explain.

JJ sat across from him, her hands folded in her lap, patient and curious about what brought him here late at night. “Spencer, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

He nodded, but the weight of all he had to say pressed down harder. He opened his mouth, closed it, and tried again. “I… it’s… I need to explain something,” he started, stumbling over the words. “I—well, it’s complicated. I… it’s not—you wouldn’t understand. But I need you to know. I’ve… been keeping something from everyone. And it’s… I mean—” His voice cracked.

JJ leaned forward, gently placing a hand over his. “Hey. Breathe. Just start wherever you need to. What do you need from me?”

Spencer blinked rapidly, fighting the instinct to look away, to shrink from the intensity of her gaze. But it was too late to back down. Not after this long. He exhaled sharply, and in one smooth motion, he let his tail free from around his waste. It moved instinctively, curling slightly around his ankle, flicking with hesitance.

“I’m a mutant,” he said, almost a whisper, closing his eyes so he would not see the judgment, or the shock, or worse fear, that might cross her face. “I… I have abilities, senses that are sharper than anyone’s… I can shift… I’m not… normal.” The words spilled out faster now, as though saying them aloud had loosened something inside. “I’ve been hiding it. I’ve been trying to control it. And I—I trust you, JJ. I needed you to see me. All of me.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Spencer’s ears caught every intake of breath, every subtle shift in her posture. His tail twitched nervously, muscles coiling with tension. He waited, bracing himself for disbelief, fear, rejection.

Then JJ reached out, placing a hand lightly on his arm, warm and steady. “Spencer… thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for trusting me. That… that is a lot. I’m not going to lie. I didn’t expect it. But it doesn’t change who you are. It doesn’t change me. I’m still here for you.”

Spencer opened his eyes cautiously. Her expression was open, gentle, and accepting. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “You… you’re not… afraid?”

“I’m human,” she said with a small smile. “But I care about you, Spencer. And I want to understand. So yes… I’m a little startled, maybe a lot. But not afraid of you. Not now. Not ever.”

The tension in his muscles began to ebb. He let his tail curl fully around his ankle, then up over his leg, feeling some relief in the simple, physical acknowledgment of safety. “I… I thought I had to hide it from everyone forever,” he admitted, his voice softer now. “I didn’t know who I could tell. I didn’t know who would… understand.”

JJ squeezed his hand gently. “You’re not alone, Spencer. You don’t have to be. And you never have been.”

The storm of anxiety, fear, and hesitation that had carried him across the city earlier that evening seemed distant now, replaced with something quieter, warmer, something that allowed him to finally rest in the presence of another person who truly saw him.

“I… thank you, JJ,” he whispered, voice still wavering but stronger. “For this. For… for being here.”

She smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Always, Spencer. Always.”

He let his head fall back slightly, tail coiled around him, mind finally feeling a little less burdened, knowing that the first step had been taken. The secret he had carried alone for so long was now shared. And it was met with compassion, understanding, and acceptance—the very things he had been seeking without even fully realizing it.

For the first time in a long while, he could breathe.

He shifted slightly, letting the tip of his tail extend further, brushing lightly against her leg. JJ looked down at it, a flicker of surprise crossing her face, quickly replaced by a soft, amused smile.

“You really are full of surprises, aren’t you?” she murmured, eyes twinkling, clearly touched by the trust he had shown.

Spencer allowed himself a small laugh, the tension in his chest loosening. “I… I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” he admitted, tail curling a little more comfortably around her arm now that it was free, “but… I needed to tell someone. After… the last case, I… I just couldn’t keep it in anymore. Knowing the hatred of the officers, they don’t even see people like me as human.”

JJ’s gaze softened further, and she leaned back slightly, giving him space while still maintaining a comforting presence. “I get it, Spencer. That case… it must have been terrifying for you, seeing those people targeted for something they couldn’t control. And knowing the police wouldn’t intervene… that would make anyone want to shut down or hide. But you didn’t. You came to me.”

His chest tightened again, but this time with relief. He had chosen wisely to trust. The last case had been the breaking point, the catalyst that had made him realize he couldn’t keep all of himself locked away from them any longer. And now, sitting there, feeling JJ’s quiet reassurance, the steady rhythm of her presence, he finally allowed himself to breathe.

Spencer shifted again, more fully this time, letting his tail brush further along her leg again, a tentative exploration of this new vulnerability, seeking contact with someone he trusted. JJ chuckled softly, shaking her head with a mixture of amusement and fondness. “Careful there,” she said, voice teasing but warm. “You might just get me used to this.”

He allowed himself another small laugh, a sound he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. The weight of secrecy was lifting, replaced by the simple, powerful comfort of being seen and accepted. He stayed there most of the night talking to her, calming himself from the intensity of the last days and for the first time in a long while, he felt safe to be himself, entirely, without pretense.

Chapter Text

The drive back was unusually quiet. Morgan had offered to give him a lift home since it was raining heavily outside. The soft pitter-patter of the rain on the car was a calming distraction from the unusual tension in the car, which no one could explain. The last care was nothing special, the unsub was going after people who reminded him of a girl that had stood him up on a date. It took them less than a day to find him and bring him in.

He kept glancing over at Morgan. He knew he was being stupid. Morgan was fine, but he couldn’t help replaying the take-down in his head. It was simple, they found the unsub in his house watching TV. No one saw the gun till he fired it. The shot only grazed Morgan's arm, and he didn’t even need to go to the hospital, but something about seeing him stumble with a faint trace of blood trickling from the wound unsettled Spencer on an instinctual level.

He has been on alert since, not alert enough to shift at the next slight misstep, but he was going through all the worst-case scenarios. He could smell the blood still stuck to the graze in the car, even with all the precautions they take, sometimes it’s not enough to stop being hurt. What if the next time it's not a graze? Spencer thought to himself. what if he never knows who I really am.

Telling JJ had lifted something in him that he can't quite explain, it was like a weight had been lifted. He wants to be able to tell everyone else on the team, but he could seem to ignore the voice in his head telling him that it is too dangerous. He thought it would be easier to start with the people he was closest to on the team. Morgan was the one who had fallen after JJ, whom he trusted the most. He was trying to build up the courage to talk to him about it, but he kept going over and over what to say to make him understand and not see him as a threat.

He wasn’t sure what he would do if Morgan could accept him. His fear itself would be worse than if he went to others who would have him arrested or worse. He sighed, shaking his head, trying to snap himself out of that train of thought before he could talk himself out of telling him.

Morgan noticed and broke the silence. “Spence… What's up? You’ve been quiet the whole ride. I know that look. Something’s up.”

Spencer looked over to him, he didn’t want to tell him in the car. He tightened his grip on his messenger bag, which was seated on his lap. His nerves coiling in his chest, he knew Morgan was just concerned, but he wasn’t sure how to speak to him about it.

His words came out tangled and awkward. “I… I just… I’ve been thinking, and I need to… to talk to you about something.”

Morgan’s eyes softened. He was not sure what Spencer needed to talk about, but he was there to listen. “Alright. I’m listening, Pretty boy. Want me to pull over?”

Spencer shook his head slightly. “No… It’s fine. I mean…” He took a deep breath, feeling his tail press tighter against him. “Is not on the road conversation. Can… Can we talk when we get to my place? Please.”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. He was surprised, wondering what was important enough for Spencer to be this apprehensive. “Of course, man. This has been bothering you a lot. Hasn’t it?”

Spencer nodded, his throat tightening in apprehension. The thought of being laid bare in front of Morgan was terrifying and grounding at the same time.

Once they arrived at Spencer’s apartment building, he led Morgan inside, consciously leading him to his. He was making sure to give the illusion of normalcy till he knew that they were alone in his. Everything was in its usual place: the neatly arranged books on bookshelves or tables, the faint scent of pine from the diffuser in the corner, and the soft hum of the small heater keeping the apartment warm. Spencer closed the door behind them and motioned for Morgan to come further in. He was already feeling awkward about the whole thing, but he was not going to turn back now.

“I… I’m not sure how to tell you,” he began, voice tight but deliberate, the words trembling as he tried to bridge the space between fear and honesty.

Morgan tilted his head, attentive. “Reid… you know I’m always here to listen.”

Spencer swallowed. “Yes, I know… I didn’t want to risk… You knowing… and then you not reacting well. But after the case… when you got grazed…I realized that anything could happen. And I want you to know.” His voice faltered, he could hear his own uncertainty in his voice.

Morgan stood openly, and everything was pointing towards concern and acceptance. “Spencer… It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything if you're not ready.”

But he was ready. He needed to be honest, needed Morgan to see all of him, before any more time passed. He took a deep, measured breath, feeling the coil of his tail tighten beneath his clothing one last time before letting it slide free, unfurling slowly before it rested, just draping on the floor.

Morgan’s eyes widened as the tail fully extended, the length curling and flicking like an extension of Spencer’s nervous energy. “Whoa…” he breathed. He was definitely not expecting that. “Wait… what…”

Spencer closed his eyes, hands gripping his sleeves. “I’m a mutant,” he confessed, his voice low and strained. “I’ve been hiding it… from everyone for a long time. I—” He stopped, unsure if he should explain further or let the image speak for itself.

Morgan stood there absorbing the sight, his mouth opening and closing slightly. “I have to admit. I wasn't expecting that when you said you needed to talk.” His voice trailed off, confusion and awe mingling in his expression. “Honestly, after Tobias, I was thinking drugs of some kind. Wow.”

Spencer’s eyes snapped open, burning with a mix of anger, fear, and frustration. “No!” he snapped, voice louder than intended. He shook slightly, his tail showing his emotions, it was strongly snapping back, the fur standing up slightly. “I’m not on drugs!”

Morgan’s eyes went wide, realizing instantly his mistake. “Damn. I’m sorry, man. That came out wrong. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

Spencer’s shoulders slumped slightly, the tension leaking away as he realized Morgan was sincere. He hadn’t reacted with fear or disgust, just shock and confusion. “I’m not on drugs.” Anymore. He said again more mutely, moving to sit down on the couch. “It’s… okay. I…I didn’t expect that reaction. But this is who I am. I’m a mutant.” His voice trailed off, tail curling slowly around his chair leg.

Morgan took a deep breath before sitting down next to him. Resting a hand on Spencer’s arm. “Spencer… you think I care about some mutation or whatever? I’ve known you long enough to know you’re Spencer. That’s what matters.”

Spencer let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, feeling the warmth of Morgan’s words anchor him. “I… I just… People can react badly to things that are different. But I wanted you to know… in case something happened.”

Morgan’s hand gave a reassuring squeeze. “I get it, man. Really. And I’m glad you told me.” He smiled softly, the teasing glint in his eye returning. “Besides… now I get why you always act a little faster than the rest of us, even if you hide it well. Speedy reflexes, huh?”

The atmosphere softened, and Spencer felt the tension in his chest ease further. He realized that honesty didn’t have to be terrifying. It could be comforting, grounding. He had chosen wisely in telling Morgan first, after JJ, and the bond between them seemed unshakable, strengthened by this moment of vulnerability.

Spencer’s tail had settled into a comfortable curl between them, and he could feel his pulse finally easing from the tension that had held him in a tight coil since his decision. The quiet hum of the apartment filled the space between them, and he realized for the first time since stepping inside that he could almost breathe freely. He could feel the curiosity from Morgan, and he probably deserved some form of explanation.

Spencer sighed, knowing that he would only hold so long. “You can ask your questions?”

“Only if you're ok to share.” He replied quickly, not wanting to push him if he was not ready. If the look he got was any indication, he would rather get it over with. “Ok. What does your mutation do?”

He toyed with the idea of showing Morgan everything in full, letting the rest of his mutant abilities surface, but the thought made his stomach twist. “I… I have two forms. One is more human, like what you see now,” he said, gesturing subtly to himself, “but the other…the other is… different. I look… more like… I don’t know, more feeling. But the tail stays in both forms. I’m stronger, faster than others… My instincts are more. I can see, hear, and sense things that other people can’t. That’s why… some things in the field, I react… the way I do.”

Morgan’s eyes softened as he listened, leaning forward slightly, his hands resting casually on his knees. “So that's why you have a hard time around guns. Your hearing is more sensitive,” he asked gently, a touch of awe and curiosity in his voice, but he was careful not to cross any boundaries.

Spencer nodded his head, a small, nervous laugh escaping him. “Yeah. It can be painful sometimes. And I can't always dull my senses. Right now, I can hear your heart, I can smell the last thing you ate on your breath, I can taste the copper in the air from the blood in your cut, and I can tell the more I'm talking, the more you're spooked and cautious. My senses they… they also get stronger when I… when I shift.” His hands tightened around his knees, his tail curling protectively around his wrist, applying slight pressure, grounding him.

Morgan nodded slowly, taking in every word. “That sounds… intense. And probably terrifying at times, huh?”

Spencer’s lips pressed together. “It can be. Sometimes it's easier to hold it back, like now, and I can… be normal. But other times… It’s harder. My nature is to be free. Not confined to a man-made box. That’s why it's hard. I’ve been so careful, who knows, because if I lose control… I’m not sure what would happen. As I said before, not many people are accepting of things that are different.”

“And you trust me,” Morgan said quietly, a statement rather than a question. He tilted his head and offered a small, reassuring smile. “Thank you, Spencer. And don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere, pretty boy. You're stuck with me. Even if you do turn into a cat sometimes.”

Spencer’s chest relaxed with the teasing. “Thank you. But I don't want you to see my other form,” he admitted, voice low. He shifted slightly, the tip of his tail brushing against Morgan’s leg unconsciously, a silent, tentative connection. “It’s… complicated. I don’t want to lose you. You… you understand, right?”

Morgan’s eyes softened further. “Of course. You don’t owe me anything, Spence. I just… I want to understand. If you're not ready, you're not ready.”

Spencer let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly more. “It’s just… when I shift. I react before I can think sometimes. If you did something even slightly threatening, even by accident.” He shook his head.

Morgan nodded, letting him speak without interruption. “Makes sense. And it’s not your fault, you know. You’re not hurting anyone by being who you are. Just… gotta learn to control it, right?”

Spencer nodded, grateful for the gentle tone and the absence of judgment. “Yes… control is… important. And knowing that people I trust understand… it helps.” He allowed himself a small smile, and for the first time since leaving the case, it felt genuine.

Morgan leaned back slightly, eyes thoughtful. “You know, when you’re ready… whenever that is… I’d like to see the other form. But only when you want. No pressure, promise.”

Spencer’s tail flicked lightly at the tip, brushing against Morgan’s hand as though testing the waters. “Thank you. I… I appreciate that more than I can say. It’s… comforting to know that someone doesn’t think I’m wrong or a monster.”

Morgan’s smile widened, warm and reassuring. “Spence, you’re not a monster. And you’re definitely not wrong. You’re Spencer Reid, an annoying genius, and that’s more than enough for me. Always will be.”

For a long moment, the apartment was filled with silence, but it was the kind of silence that felt safe, secure, and grounding. Spencer felt the knot of fear and anxiety loosen further, replaced by something he hadn’t felt in a long time—acceptance. He let his tail rest fully against Morgan’s leg, a quiet acknowledgment of trust, and allowed himself to feel… human.

“I… I’ll show it to you someday,” Spencer whispered, almost to himself, but loud enough for Morgan to hear. “When I’m ready… I promise.”

Morgan just nodded, and Spencer’s smile deepened just a little more, and he finally allowed himself to relax, curling back into the chair as Morgan’s presence remained steady and reassuring beside him. And just again, he found himself knowing that he didn’t have to face the world alone.

Chapter Text

Spencer didn’t realise how much opening up to people would help him stay in control. He thought that the more people who knew, the harder it would be to keep it a secret. Yes, he was still cautious, he thought about what would happen if they ever let his secret slip. But despite it all, he was feeling more and more relieved, he was not having to hide constantly. Morgan and JJ had both taken the truth and exempted it, and despite Morgan's initial reaction, he felt lighter from telling them.

Now he was confident that the others would understand. He had worked with them for a long time now, and he knew what type of people they are. He couldn’t be sure how they would react, but he knew they wouldn’t hurt him, and he wanted that feeling of complete acceptance.

Penelope Garcia, in many ways, is someone who can bring light to any situation. Spencer loved talking to Garcia, they were intellectual equals, and they could talk for hours and never get bored with a topic. If anyone could be trusted with his secret, it was her. Most people referred to her at the office gossip, but if it was something important, she would never betray that confidence.

He doubted that she would see him as dangerous, that was his main worry with the others. Garcia always saw the world through rose-colored glasses with the conviction that defied all logic. She already saw him as extraordinary, and soon she would see concrete evidence of that. He was standing outside her apartment. He had agreed to a movie night Garcia had been asking him for weeks to show him this new tech documentary, and he had no reservations about telling her tonight.

The inside of Garcia's apartment was warm and chaotic as usual, the smell of popcorn filled the air, mingling with the scent of lavender from the incense sticks rolled away on the shelf in the corner. Stringed fairy lights framed each wall, spilling bright, multicoloured light over the walls. Her living room was a nest of plush blankets, soft pillows, and trinkets that covered every surface. The overly bright, chaotic nature of her home would sometimes put his instinct on edge with the strain on his senses, but somehow, when it came to Garcia’s, it was a soothing kind of chaos.

Spencer felt himself relax after stepping inside. He was not nervous about it, more excited and relieved that he was going to tell her.

“Reid!” Garcia sang out when he stepped inside. She was wearing a kimono patterned with bright koi fish and oversized glasses that sparkled under the light. “The documentary awaits. I’ve got caramel corn, kettle corn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and fruit slices for your long-limbed, vitamin-craving self. I also have soda, mineral water, and of course coffee.”

Spencer smiled, looking around at the amount of snacks, a warmth spreading through him as he let his senses roam and acclimatise to Garcia's world. “You didn’t have to make all this.”

“Oh, hush. This is the price of delayed entertainment."

She ushered him to the couch with a flourish, and soon they were both curled up as the documentary began to play. Spencer tried to focus on it, but his mind went through how to tell her. The longer the TV rolled, the more his tail twitched under the clothes. He didn’t try to hide it. It was to be revealed today, so why try? Garcia hadn’t noticed, she was solely focused on the documentary. Her laugh and jokes eased him as he settled his thoughts.

He wanted to do this, and this was his choice. He wanted her to see all of him, not only the parts that he showed to the world, not the FBI’s own genius, not the statistical mind the team religion on, not the person she thinks she knows, but all of him. The scary mutant part that was covered with fur has sharp claws and a tail that never fully sealed.

“Garcia,” he said hesitantly, biting his bottom lip slightly, and he tried to ride his nerves.

Garcia muted the TV instantly, turning toward him with curious eyes. “Oh, that tone is never good. What’s wrong, sugarplum? Do I have to destroy someone's virtual world? You know I will.”

Spencer huffed a soft laugh at her, instantly coming to his aid, even not knowing if something had happened. “No, Garsia, I just have something to tell you.” His voice trailed as he reached the end.

He looked down at his hands, fingers lightly picking at the edge of a frow pillow. He was planning his words as she looked on. Planning how to tell her, he thought about trying to explain, then remembered how badly he stumbled over his words when telling JJ and how it was easier to just show her. So he decided on doing just that.

With deliberate movement, he relaxed his tail and let it uncurl from beneath his clothes. Tailing it across the space between them, taping lightly against the cushions. For a moment, Garcia just stared at it, wide-eyed with her glasses sliding down her nose as she processed the sight. Then the grin broke out on her face, and her demeanour somehow brightened more than her usual.

“Oh. My. God.”

Spencer braced himself for her reaction. But then she clapped her hands like a child on Christmas morning. “Reid, you have a tail?! And it’s beautiful! Look at it, the movement, the musculature. I mean, oh my God, it’s prehensile, isn’t it? Can you pick things up with it? I bet it's soft. Can I touch it? Wait, is that rude? That’s rude, isn’t it? Okay, no touching. Unless you say yes. But wow. Wow.”

The genuine excitement that came from Garcia elicited a laugh from Spencer, bright and real. He looked at her, smiling back. “Yes, it’s prehensile.” He answered, and to demonstrate, he curled his tail around a glass of water and lifted it to Garsia, who grabbed it out of the air.

She squealed after taking a drink from the glass, fanning herself dramatically. “This is the coolest thing anyone has ever shown me.”

Her curiosity and enthusiasm wrapped around him like a blanket, chasing away the chill of his fears. For once, he didn’t want to downplay what he was, and he didn’t have to hide the parts that most called dangerous or freakish. Yet he still found himself asking. “You’re not scared?”

Garcia’s smile softened slightly, dismissing him. “Of you? Oh, sweet cheeks, the only scary thing about you is how fast you can rattle off statistics on killers. This?” Gesturing to his tail. “Is just more wonder to my boy wonder.”

At her honest excitement, he eased into the chair, with a smile creeping on the edge of his mouth. The silence didn’t last long, as Garsia decided that all of her questions had to be answered, curiosity getting the better of her. “ Does it get sensations like in the hands and skin? Is your balance better? How fast can you move it? Were you born with it? Where is it connected to you? Does it take a lot of energy to move?”

“Garsia!” Spencer shriked, smaping her out of it.

“Sorry,” she stopped and waited for his answer.

“Yes, it can feel like any other part of my body, sometimes more. Yes, my balance is better with it, but my centre of gravity is different from others, so when it’s hidden, my balance is worse than someone else’s normal. I’m not sure how fast it can move. I’ve never thought about it. No, I was not born with it, which is different to most mutants with physical mutations. It’s connected to my spine, which is why it can be more sensitive to touch. So if someone holds it close to the base, it can be very painful, and it takes a while to be able to move without pain again. And it takes as much energy to move it as my arms and legs, Allow it has a mind of its own sometimes.” Spencer found his words flowing for the first time when talking about his mutation.

Garcia lessened with eager intent, her bright demeanour never fading. She listened with the concentration of someone who truly wanted to understand and craved any form of knowledge.

Spencer was dubious about what he wanted to do next. The only person he had willingly shown his other form to was Remy. Sure, Hotch had seen it, but that was by accident. Yet seeing Garsia’s face still bright with wonder, he wanted to feed that wonder of hers. Give her more questions that would spill out so fast that he would have a hard time keeping up. He wanted to basking in the warmth of her affection as long as he could.

“I can show you more,” he said, hopeful.

Garcia blinked. She was surprised that there was more to learned after an already enlightening night. “More? Spencer, you can’t just say ‘more’ like that and not expect me to spontaneously combust from curiosity.”

Her tone made him laugh, his own excitement forming into a smile. “It’s… my mutation isn’t just one thing. I can shift into another form. It’s not completely human.” His throat went dry, and he glanced away. “I don’t usually… it feels too much sometimes.”

Garcia’s expression softened immediately. She set aside her barely touched popcorn and leaned toward him. “You don’t have to, sugarplum. If you want to, ok. But if you do….I promise you’ll only get awe and maybe one too many questions.” She wiggled her fingers like she was warding off the nerves he clearly carried.

Spencer smiled again, taking a deep breath and let his body relax into the instinct he usually held back. It started subtly: the rhythm of his breathing shifted, longer inhales, deeper exhales. Garcia first noticed his eyes. The pupils split, and his eyes gained a slight amber tinge.

“Your pupils,” she whispered, awe threading her voice. “They just… Their just like cats. That’s so cool.”

Her calm observation steadied him. Spencer let go of the human mask piece by piece. He felt the warmth of his fur travelling up his arms and the pads forming on his hands. His spine contracted slightly, muscles strengthening. His senses reaching out as something wild that had been waiting to stretch. His hands flexed on his knees, fingers shortening and twitching before his claws slid out and back in.

Garcia gasped, not in fear, but in wonder. “Okay, that is the best special effect I’ve ever seen in real life.”

He let his tail uncurled fully, thick fur brushing the carpet, no longer tentative. He could feel his ears pricking upward, sharper now, his hearing widening to catch the tiniest creak of her chair as she leaned closer. Spencer’s face tightened as the change settled in him. When it passed, he lowered his head, braced for recoil.

Instead, Garcia’s hands clapped together like a kid at a fireworks show. “Spencer Reid, you are majestic! Oh my god, look at you, you’re like if science and fantasy had a perfect little lovechild.”

Spencer let out a breath. Her joy flooded over him, washing out the tension, letting him actually look at her instead of hiding.

Garcia leaned forward with her chin propped on her hands, studying him from every angle. “Your centre of gravity looks different. And your claws, are they keratin, like nails, or something denser? Can you retract them like a cat?”

Spencer huffed out a laugh, shaking his head, tail flicking behind him. “They denser. Keratin wouldn’t hold up the way they do. And yes, I can retract them. Mostly in this form. I can extend them in my human form, but I don’t tend to.”

Garcia leaned back, beaming. “Reid, this is beautiful. You’re beautiful. No more hiding, especially from me, got it? Next movie night, you'd better bring the tail.”

Spencer smiled, the kind of smile he hadn’t realised he’d been holding back for years. Even in this form with a mouth full of fangs, Garsia never faltered in her essence. He felt something childlike and free, pure, bubbling joy at being seen and fully understood.

Chapter Text

Spencer stood outside Rossi’s front door for longer than he was willing to admit. The air was cool against him as the evening settled in. The scent of cut grass and faint cigar smoke assured him that there were no other guests recently. It wasn’t surprising given how many cases they had been on lately, but it was comforting nonetheless.

He wasn’t sure what had brought him here tonight. It had been months since he had started to tell the team, and he kept putting off telling the others. It wasn’t the first time he had come to Rossi’s door thinking he could tell him, but every time he backed out. He told himself that it just wasn’t the right time, but in truth, he was scared.

He always held great admiration for him, ever since he had read his book for the first time, and that had only grown since he had been working with him. When he joined after Gideon left, it was strange at first. Gideon had a way of making him feel like he knew all the answers to everyone. Some part of him thought that Gideon knew that he was a mutant and chose to look past it without an explanation.

It was harder to tell what Rossi knew. He was more closed off, but he and Gideon founded the BAU. He couldn’t help but wonder if Rossi had somehow figured it out as well, and that brought even more questions to him. Did he think the other knew already? What if he was waiting for proof before confronting him? Could he be waiting for him to come to him? Is telling him a waste of time if he already knows? How should he go about telling him?

He had tried to get to know Rossi better while on cases. Rossi didn’t seem to hold any prejudices towards mutants, they work well together, and Spencer would even consider them friends. He lifted his hand to nock training to think of how he would react. He was not a overtly emotional as Garcia, but he was just as curious, even if it was more subtly. Rossi was more cautious than Morgan, so Spencer was expecting him to want to know if he had control, what his mutation was, and what to do if he lost control.

He wasn’t sure how much Rossi already knew about mutants, so he hoped he would lead the conversation after he told him. Taking a deep breath, he nocked twice as his tail curled tighter around his waist. It didn’t take long for him to answer, opening the door in a casual top and dark slacks, he was relaxed with a small smile of pleasant surprise.

“Reid,” Rossi said warmly. “I was just about to pour a glass. Come in.”

As Spencer stepped inside, his nerves came in full force. When he was outside, he could still back out now he couldn’t. The familiar smell of his house only settled him slightly, he looked around the living room stealing on staring out the patio doors to the woods beyond.

After Rossi poured them a drink, they moved to sit on the leather chairs facing each other. Spencer gratefully accepted the glass from Rossi and stared at it for a few moments before slowly lifting it and taking a sip.

When he returned it to his lap, he looked over to Rossi, who was leaning back in his chair, waiting for him to speak. “I, uh… there’s something I need to tell you.”

Rossi studied him over the rim of his glass, brows lifting a fraction. “I figured.”

Spencer blinked. “You… did?”

Rossi’s mouth tugged into the faintest smirk, more wry than amused. “Kid, you don’t come to someone’s house if you don’t need to talk to them about something.”

“Right.” Spencer looked back at his glass and downed the rest of its contents. “I’m not sure how to… Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Rossi replied, looking at him intrigued.

“How much do you know about mutants?”

Rossi nodded with understanding. “Ah. So that’s what this is about.”

Spencer looked at him in both surprise and confusion, having known it was a possibility that he knew, but he was not expecting him to catch on so soon.

“You work with profilers, bambino. You think you could hide something forever? You’ve been careful, I’ll give you that. But not perfect.”

Spencer’s hands tightened around the glass as his tail did the same, it was almost painful. “You know?”

“Yes, Reid. I know you’re a mutant.” Rossi sipped his drink, as calm as if they were talking about the weather. “There were too many small inconsistencies in your behaviour. Your reflexes, the way your senses catch things before anyone else, and how you recover faster than you should. None of it added up to ordinary.”

“Why haven’t you said anything before?”

Rossi leaned forward slightly, expression softer now. “Because it wasn’t my call. If you wanted me to know, you’d tell me. If you didn’t, then you had your reasons. I respect that.”

Spencer swallowed hard. He was glad that he was understanding the relief washing over him. “Can I… show you?”

He waited for him to give an unbothered shrug before letting his tail slide out from under his coat and lay over the arm of the chair. It taped the side lightly in sway of his nerves, the gentle breeze from the open window combed through its grey fur. Spencer didn’t take his eyes off Rossi, wanting to see his reaction. It was slightly unnerving to see him readily accept him so easily.

They just stared at each other for a moment, Rossi seemingly unfazed by the revival. It wasn’t long before Spencer needed to break the silence. “You don’t care. I mean, I know you read what the FBI have on mutants. How do you not care?”

“I’ve been at this a long time, kid,” Rossi said kindly. “And I know that most of what the FBI say about mutants is an exaggerated account of what really happened. I’ve worked on cases where mutants were the victims and get they are the ones hated and prosecuted.”

Spencer watched as Rossi finished his drink. “Thank you. I wish everyone would see it the way you do.”

“Well, something you learn when doing this job, most people are set in their ways. How many others know about you?”

“Not many,” Spencer admitted. “I’ve been careful, I never know who would except me, so I don’t let a lot of people know. Hotch knows. Same as JJ, Morgan and Garcia. It took me a while, with a little help from a friend, to start letting people in.”

Spencer relaxed more in the chair, he was still on edge as this kind of conversation tended to make him, but he knew Rossi had more questions by the way he was observing him. It was confirmed when Rossi asked. “Out of curiosity, what kind are you, what can you do, aside from having a tail?”

He was slightly surprised by the question. No one else had asked him that. Thinking about it, the others don’t have much experience with mutants and probably didn’t know there were different kinds. Rossi did, so it was logical that he would be curious. Knowing that didn’t make it easier to admit when he knew that even other mutants were cautious around ferals, as most just gave in to their instincts. “I… um…I would be classed as a feral mutant.”

He couldn’t bring himself to look away from Rossi as he said it. He needed to see how he would react. He started to panic slightly when he saw hints of recognition in his eyes and how he strained just slightly.

Rossi was quick to cover his reaction, looking back at Spencer with new eyes. “I have to admit I was not expecting that.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Spencer added hastily, his voice sharper than he would have liked. “I’m not the same as others you may have heard of. I know how ferals are perceived. I’m not… I’m not dangerous.”

Rossi healed his hands up, trying to calm him. “Slow down, kid. I never said you were.”

“You thought about the other ferals you’ve heard of.” Spencer’s tail was tensing slightly the movements halted, betraying his agitation. “I know you’ve seen reports on ferals. On how they are ruled by their instincts. How they easily lose control. How their… dangerous. And now you’re putting me in that category.”

“Oh, bambino.” Rossi’s voice cut him off from his own thoughts. It was soft in a way he had never heard from him before. It was so genuine that he snapped out of his spiral and back to reality. He looked back too him, he didn’t even realise he looked away. “Anyone can lose control. It doesn’t mean their dangerous. I’ve seen people, humans, do worse than what they have. You, Spencer, you could never do something like that. Feral or not.”

Spencer listened patiently, searching Rossi’s face for any trace of a lie, but Rossi’s dark eyes were steady and honest. Spencer’s chest tightened, his words clogged his throat, emotions prickling behind his eyes.

He watched as Rossi leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I will admit I am wary. I won’t lie to you. I don’t know what you are physically capable of, and the word ‘feral’ raises alarms. But I look at you, and I see a man who’s chosen restraint, discipline, and intellect, when it would’ve been easier to give in to your basic nature. That matters more than any instinct you were born with.”

Rossi stood and poured another measure of scotch for them both and slid the glass toward Spencer without ceremony. “Now. Drink. And tell me what it’s like.”

Spencer blinked. “What?”

“You think I’m not curious?” Rossi arched his brow. “I’ve been in this game a long time, and I’ve seen a lot of strange things. But I’ve never had the chance to ask one of my own teammates about it directly, humour an old man. Most of the knowledge I have on this is from reports, and that’s not always reliable. So, what does being feral actually mean?”

Chapter Text

Spencer let the steam of his coffee swirl in front of him as he walked along the quiet streets of the small park near the courthouse. They had to testify in the trial of an unsub they had caught a few months ago. It was early afternoon, and late spring sunlight was gentle as they walked. Birds chirped in the distance, leaves rustling in the slight breeze, and the city’s distant hum seemed muffled here, tucked between trees. He took a sip, feeling the warmth of the cup seep into his hands, a small comfort against the nervous tension coiling in his chest.

He had spent the week contemplating this moment, turning it over in his mind while filing reports and running through the logistics. He hadn’t meant for it to be this way, but Emily was the last member of the team who didn’t know about his mutation. I wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, because he did. He had also known her longer than he had known Rossi, yet it was harder to tell how she would react. He and she didn’t get off to the best start when she joined. Admittedly, that was his own fault, he was not in the best of places when she joined.

Because of that, he had a harder time understanding how she might react. She always seemed more guarded, and he felt guilty trying to profile her. He knows that she would keep his secret because she is passionate about what she does and what she believes in. He had seen that many times while he was working with her. Even if something was against protocols or duty, if she believed it was right, she didn’t care if it would get them in trouble, she would do it because it was the right thing.

Spencer hoped that that would extend to keeping his secret, sharing it with the FBI, knowing how mutants are perceived wouldn’t be something that she would be able to do. He caught sight of her sitting on the bench, drinking her coffee, looking over her notes of the case. He hopes that he can explain it better this time without fumbling over his words like usual.

“Reid,” Emily said, looking up and smiling as she noticed him approaching. Her voice was warm, grounding, but there was that subtle curiosity in her eyes that always seemed to make him want to explain everything in detail, even the things he couldn’t. “Hey. You’ve been quiet all morning. Is everything okay?”

Spencer forced a small smile and nodded, clutching the cup tighter than he meant to. “Yeah. Yeah, just… just needed some fresh air. Coffee helps.” His voice had that slight tremor he always hated when he felt exposed, a whisper of nerves that only his closest friends picked up on.

Emily put her notes aside and faced towards him. She had thought she heard something off in his voice, but she was not sure what. “Is something wrong? You seem off.”

He drew a shaky breath, looking around the park. In the early afternoon, there was next to no one else there to listen in, which was comforting in its own way. He let the calmness of the park settle his nerves. Taking in the sounds and the Smells. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about. But I’m not sure how to start.”

Emily’s brows furrowed slightly, confused by the sudden seriousness of her friend. He always talked, even about the most inconsequential things, and to see him now hesitant to share something obviously important had piqued her interest. “Well, I’ve found it’s better to just say it how it is.”

Spencer took one last look around before doing as she suggested. “I’m a mutant.”

Emily blinked at him. Whatever she was expecting, it was not that. After a moment, she processed the statement. “A mutant?”

Spencer didn’t pretend not to notice the subtle way her eyes scanned the park. He tried not to look into what that had meant, but for a moment, he was filled with dread, thinking she was looking for a way to get away from him. He watched the way she calmly took another sip of her coffee, and he discreetly scent the air. He didn’t smell fear, and he knew people could not disguise the emotions in their scent, no matter what they tried. He let that knowledge settle him once again and answer her Question. “Yes. I am a mutant.”

“Okay.” She nodded at the confirmation and went to pick her notes back up.

Spencer stared at her for a second, wondering how she had just taken what should be a bombshell in stride. “Okay? That’s it. Okay? You don’t have questions.”

“Do you want me to have questions?” She asked, looking back to him again.

“Yes! No… Yes… Maybe… I don’t know.” He looked down in aspiration, he felt his tail tighten and relax under his clothes, unsure what to make of how she reacted.

“You were expecting me to have questions. But you don’t want to have to answer them and explain your reasons for keeping it a secret.” She mused, sipping her coffee.

“Basically, yeah.” He nodded, drinking his own.

“Okay then.”

They sat in silence for a while and finished their respective drinks before Spencer had to ask her something. “How are you so calm and accepting?”

She smiled kindly at him before explaining. “This is not the first time someone I know has told me they were a mutant. When that happened, I reacted how, I guess most people you have told reacted. I had loads of questions about it. What could she do? How did her power work? How strong was she? Why did she keep it a secret? Was she dangerous?”

“She was great at answering them, and she was happy to tell me.” Emily smiled at the memory before going sombre. “At first, I never understood why she was not as excited about her gift as I was. But eventually, I understood. Only when some dangerous people came looking for her. For no other reason than that she was different. After they left, she spent weeks hiding in my place. And when she came out and re-joined the world.”

“Anytime someone would ask her about her gift, she would have to beg them not to bring those people back. She had to constantly answer questions about why. Constantly justifying her existence. Questions became harmful to her. She started to think she deserved to be feared, even though she had done nothing to harm anyone. I hated seeing my best friend think so little of herself.”

“You don’t need to justify your reasons to anyone, Spencer.” She healed his eyes, ensuring hr understood. “If you want to tell me, then you can. But you do not owe anyone an explanation. From what I’ve seen from you, you could never be dangerous, and I know you probably don’t believe that, but it’s true.”

Spencer stared at her as he took in her story. He hadn’t realised that sometimes answering questions was his way of showing that he wasn’t dangerous and he was in control. Doing the job they do has made him more courteous than he was before he started at the FBI. Now he knows what the dangers of being known are, and how mutants are perceived in government and in general, the first thing he tells anyone after the reveal is a variation of I’m not dangerous. He didn’t think he would meet a non-mutant who could understand.

He smiled at Emily. “Thank you, Emily”

“You’re welcome, Spencer.” She replied, returning his smile.

Spencer took her empty cup and put it in the bin with his. He was going to leave before he retook his seat next to her and asked. “Do you want to see?”

She thought for a moment, then she looked around and turned to face him, nodding. “I would love to.”

Spencer grinned, scanning the park making sure no one was there, and ensuring he couldn’t hear anyone coming their way. He carefully let his tail slip free, he ensured that it all rested on his lap so no one would see it in a passing glance. He looked up to her, seeing wonder in those usually guarded eyes, he couldn’t help but want to surprise her more. So he let his claws expand fully, something he rarely did when he is human. He let out a small laugh when he saw the surprise on her face.

“Wow.” She looked at him. She managed to keep her exposure so it looked like they were having a casual conversation. She reached out slightly to his tail but stopped asking. “May I?”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, but nodded. “It can be sensitive so gently.”

Emily understood and gently felt the fur on his tail. She was surprised by how soft it was. She thought it would be rougher for some reason, she thought about how uncomfortable it must be for him to keep it hidden all the time.

“What’s she like?” He asked suddenly. At the confusion from Emily, he explained. “Your friend. What is she like?”

Emily smiled again, removing her hand from Spencer’s tail. “She’s… She’s nice. Kind. We met when I was overseas with my mother in Egypt. We stayed in touch. You would like her. She dedicated her life to helping other mutants except who they are. Last I heard, she lives in New York. Maybe you will get to meet her one day.”

Spencer listened to her talk, and his mind thought of how she sounded familiar to one of Remy’s friends he had talked about. At the idea, Spencer smiled, the chances of it being the same person were very small. Spencer heard footsteps in the distance coming in their direction. He quickly retracted his claws as far as they would go that fast, and he quickly tried to manoeuvre his tail back under his claws.

When he looked up at Emily’s curious expression, but ignored it for now. He looked around and relaxed when he saw Hotch walking towards them. Emily followed his gaze and understood why he hid so quickly.

“He knows,” Spencer said quietly, not wanting Emily to get the wrong idea. “I only heard someone coming this way.”

She nodded, and Hotch stopped near them.

“Prentise. Reid.” He greeted with a nod. “The court is reconvening in 5. We need to be back.”

They got their thing and stood, and Hotch studied them. He gave Spencer a proud smile and an approving nod as they made their way back to the courthouse.