Over the next few weeks, Spencer was showing definite signs of improving. He had been able to walk around the house a bit with just his brace on, though he insisted on using the crutches at work, bringing into account his clumsiness and how easily he'd trip on something and make his leg even worse. Unfortunately, his progress wasn't as significant as he thought, and his physical therapist insisted on keeping him on his crutches for the time being.

The day before Hotch was set to return to work, Spencer sat on the couch, his leg propped up on the table.

"Can you believe that guy? 'Yes, Spencer, you're improving, but I'll need you to stay on the crutches'. Come on, what good are they doing me?" He looked up and saw Derek ready to respond. He quickly pointed a finger at him. "And don't you dare say 'they're working wonders on your ass, Pretty Boy' again."

Derek smirked, handing him a coffee mug. "They're saving you from walking before your body is actually ready for it and causing more damage than what's already been done."

"You're starting to sound like Dr. Dumbass," Spencer said, sipping his coffee and setting the mug down.

"That doctor is the best you could possibly get, and work is paying for him, so I'd take what he says seriously and get as much as you can out of him."

Spencer mimicked him, changing the channel.

"Does Hotch know what happened yet?" Spencer asked, setting the remote beside him.

Derek sighed, sitting beside him. "Not the whole story. Rossi gave him a cliff notes version, if you will." Spencer raised an eyebrow at him. "What, you've never heard of cliff notes?"

"…No?"

"They're basically study guides based on a subject, such as an actual subject or a book or something."

Spencer looked at him, confused. "So, they're cheating materials? Who on earth would publish cheating material? That's just wrong. If you want to know the subject matter, just read the book."

Derek shook his head. "Anyway, Hotch knows something happened to you. He knows you got shot, he knows you were in surgery while he was in the hospital, and he knows you currently have something from the Terminator on your leg."

"But?"

"How do you know there's a but?"

"First, your body language is hinting that you have something to add, but you don't want to say it directly. Second, your intonation gives it away." Before Derek could accuse him of profiling, he added "and like I said, stop reading like a book."

Derek smiled. "But he doesn't know the exact details of how it happened. He figured if Hotch knew that Emily left you alone to go find him, he'd only feel guiltier than he already does. So, if he asks, Emily was there when it happened and called the ambulance."

"…You're asking me to lie to our unit chief, who's the best profiler of all of us?"

"Just asking for a bend on the truth until he's ready for the whole thing."

Spencer sighed. "Fine, but you owe me."

"Oh, do I?"

Spencer reached over, hitting his arm. "No."

The next morning, Spencer checked his phone before he finished getting dressed.

"Text from JJ. 'Don't spread the word yet, but it looks like we're going to have a case in Louisville'. So Hotch gets to come back to something interesting, while I had to sit at my desk for the last few weeks, bored out of my skull."

"Trust me, I'm pretty sure Hotch needs to throw himself into some work right now."

He shrugged. "I guess."

"Your doctor cleared you to fly, right?"

He nodded slightly. "I got a second opinion and I'm good to go."

Derek raised his eyebrow. "I thought your physical therapist wanted you to wait and not put so much strain on it."

Spencer strapped his brace on. "Which is why I'll be spending my time at the police station, either relaxing with my leg up or sitting down the whole time. What could possibly happen to me doing that?" He saw Derek ready to react. "Don't answer that."

He smiled, holding the crutches out to Spencer. "Then let's get to work."

Spencer balanced on his crutches, before limping out after Derek, ready to work with his whole team again.