The way it ended, as abruptly as it began, was yet another indication that perhaps none of this was real. At least, not in any traditional or physical sense. Spencer opened his mouth to say as much, only to stop himself when he realized Sunny was crying. ...Suddenly facts and explanations seemed less important.

"Sunny," he said, his hand hanging awkwardly in mid air, then slowly coming to rest on her arm.

He wasn't good at this, he never had been. Moments like this only served to remind him how painfully ignorant he was when it came to physical interaction. Though his mind didn't fail him completely, a glance down the hall reminded him of where he'd awoken, and the reality of those events. It reminded him of shooting Tobias, and the emotional relief he'd felt when Hotch had embraced him. A simple interaction that had eased the guilt and fear. He was certain nothing else could have helped him more in that moment.

So that was what Spencer offered Sunny now.

Thin arms wrapped around her, and he pulled her close, not thinking of the knife or the power she clearly welded.