History

Chapter One

It wasn't a good day.

Spencer clutched his steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were turning white with exhaustion. He pressed on the gas and accelerated, although, considering the amount of snow and ice that was all around him, he probably shouldn't have been driving at all, let alone speeding. He had never been a good driver to begin with, and today was certainly not an ideal day to learn.

Spencer sighed deeply, trying to focus on the deserted road on the route back to Quantico, and he was failing miserably.

God, you idiot, He thought to himself bitterly. Couldn't you just be normal for once?

Spencer shook his head, as though he was trying to shake the negativity out of his thoughts. He was on his way back from a seminar, which had gone less than perfect, to say the least. Spencer sighed. He didn't understand why colleges kept even bothering to ask him to give guest lectures, anyway. He wasn't a people-person, in any sense of the word, let alone someone who could connect with a room of 200 hormone-driven young adults who were stuck in the limbo between needing adult supervision and wanting to start a family themselves.

Spencer turned on the radio – something that he rarely ever did while driving – in an attempt to drown out his thoughts. Just don't think about it. It's over. No use in worrying about it now. Some poppy tune with absolutely no purpose or relevance began to blare through the speakers, causing Spencer to scrunch up his nose and practically retract in disdain. He looked down at the radio and instantly shut it off again, having already regretted his decision to try and listen to whatever was considered "music" these days, and when he looked back up to the road –

What the hell?

Spencer slammed on his breaks as hard as he could – once again, not of his greatest ideas, considering the icy weather conditions – and the car skidded to a reluctant, yet desired, stop.

His heart racing and his breath shaky, Spencer still clutched onto the steering wheel, even tighter than before. He looked out of his windshield in front of him, towards the reason that had caused him to react so drastically so suddenly.

A young woman stood in front of his car, the epitome of the cliché deer-in-the-headlights, and she appeared to be just as shocked at what had just occurred as Spencer was. Before Spencer could truly even register what – or who, rather – it was that he was gawking at, the girl ran to the passenger side of his vehicle, and began to tug on the car door handle.

Spencer honestly wasn't even sure what she was saying – it was something along the lines of "Oh, God, you've got to help me, please help me," – but, despite his better judgment and all of the years he had spent chasing after monsters in the FBI, he immediately unlocked his car, and allowed a complete stranger to scramble up next to him.

She slammed the door shut behind her, her breathing just as ragged as his, and surely her pulse thumping just as harshly. It took both of them a moment to even realize what was occurring; Spencer looked her up and down, trying to uncover any clue about her that could help him to figure out who she was, but his mind was racing so quickly that he simply couldn't think straight.

Long blonde hair. Green eyes. Pretty. Dirty. Why is she dirty? She's thin. Is she sick? Wearing a nightgown. A nightgown? It's the middle of winter! She's shaking. No, wait, she's shivering. Why is she shivering? Oh, right, it's winter. She's cold.

The girl, still having not said a word since getting into the car, widened her eyes, as though she still hadn't been able to process what was going on around her. Finally, she swallowed hard, and managed to spit out, "Please, drive. Just drive."

Spencer nodded, not sensing her a threat, but rather as a victim, and pressed his foot against the acceleration, his adrenaline still racing throughout his body.

It took moments before either one of them spoke again; it was almost as though there were too many questions, and neither knew where to start. Finally, Spencer gathered his composure enough to attempt to understand why exactly there was a young woman no older than himself sitting next to him in his car. "Who—I mean," He cleared his throat. "What's your name?"

The woman looked down, and began toying with one of her fingernails. "It's… Juliana. Julie. Julie Day."

"Julie Day…" Spencer repeated the name, its familiarity striking chords and resonating throughout his memory. "You mean, Juliana Day, as in the kidnapping victim?"

Julie practically winced, and let out a deep, labored breath. "I-I suppose you could say so."

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Spencer trailed off. "It's just that, the Day kidnappings were over ten years ago...you don't mean to say that…this whole time…"

Julie looked up at him, and he glanced over at her as well. Her hair was disheveled, and she was lightly covered in what looked like a mixture of soot and caked-on mud. A scratch beneath her left eye had left a trail of blood down her face that had since dried. He wondered how long she'd been wandering throughout the woods before he had found her.

"Ten years?" Julie practically whispered. "Has…has it really been that long?"

Spencer looked at her sympathetically, not sure what to say. He decided to spit out facts, since, after all, that was his specialty. "You, Juliana Sophia Day and your twin sister, Jeanette—"

"Jenna." Julie repeated softly, as though it had become a foreign word to her.

"—Jeanette Marcella Day were taken from your home right outside of Washington, D.C., where you lived with your father, prominent politician Matthew George Day. It was suspected that because of your father's position and wealth that ransom was the motive, but no demands were made. Three days later, Jeanette's body turned up alongside of a riverbank only a few miles from your home, after having been tortured, with asphyxia being the ultimate cause of death. There were hardly any leads in the case, and when no more similar kidnappings were reported, it was widely assumed that you were dead as well, and that this was not the work of a serial, and the search to find you was called off." Spencer cleared his throat. "The unsub was never found and, um…your body was never recovered. Until now. And, um, it appears to me that you're very much alive."

Julie sat in silence for a moment, as though she was sinking everything in, until she suddenly turned to Spencer, her green eyes wide in a mixture of both amazement and fear. "But, how do you know all of this?"

"Oh, of course," Spencer realized how frightened this girl – this kidnapped girl – had to be, wondering how he possibly could know everything about her case file. "My name is Dr. Spencer Reid. I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit within the FBI. I worked your case. Actually," He looked over at her again, "Your kidnapping case was the first real case I worked within the unit. And the first case that I ever worked that went unsolved."

Julie nodded slowly. "And…you remembered all of that? Even though it's been ten years?"

Spencer attempted a smile. "That's kind of my thing. I have an eidetic memory. I remember everything—"

"—That you read." Julie cut him off, to his surprise. Noticing his reaction, she went on. "I spent ten years locked in a house surrounded by every single book I could possibly have dreamt of. Psychological studies, medical journals, you name it. One thing that kept me sane was knowing that there was always more to learn. The pursuit of knowledge is an endless one." Julie closed her eyes for a moment, her head resting against the window.

"I – uh, I suppose I should have asked by now… Are you…alright? Um, physically, I mean. Obviously, I'm sure you've got some emotional trauma that you need to assess, but I mean, that's to be expected, especially after everything you've gone through; not to mention the social aspect. Ten years is a long time and…um…" Reid stopped babbling, realizing how greatly he was not helping the situation. God, just be normal or stop talking. His inner voice screamed at him. "Never mind. I'm sorry."

To his surprise, Julie seemed unfazed by his rant, and when she opened her eyes, she shot him a small smile. "No, thank you, Doctor. I'm fine." She let out a deep sigh, and when she spoke again, she spoke more to herself than to Spencer. "I'm going to be fine now."

After a moment, she spoke up again, her voice getting stronger with every word that she spoke; it was apparent that she probably hadn't used her voice with another human being in quite some time. "What are the odds? An FBI agent who worked on my case comes to my rescue?" She closed her eyes yet again, her head against the window. "There must be a God out there somewhere. I guess that He decided to finally come out of retirement after a ten year break."

"Juliana—"

"Please, Dr. Reid, it's Julie."

"Julie," Spencer began again, "What…what happened to you?"

Julie let out a long breath and stared at the icy road ahead. "Well, you know the beginning. Jenna and I were taken right from our bedrooms at gunpoint in the middle of the night. He took us to this small house in the middle of the woods – absolutely desolate, no one was going to find it on their own – and," Julie sighed and gave a small, sad attempt at a nervous chuckle. "I'm sorry. I've just never had to tell this story before."

Spencer spoke up, trying to be reassuring. "It's okay. You know what? We don't have to do this now, anyway. We're about a half hour away from the FBI headquarters where I work. I'm going to call my team ahead of time to let them know we're coming, and you can get cleaned up and talk to them there. They'll put you in protective services there until we catch the man who took you, okay?"

Julie looked over at Spencer yet again. "Oh, Dr. Reid, that won't be necessary." Before he could protest, she went on. "They won't find him alive. I killed the bastard this morning."

To Be Continued

A/N: This was basically just an introduction to the real story. Obviously, Spencer/OC will develop over time. Please review, they mean a lot to me! :)