Back to Life.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP….. Groaning, I roll and swat the off button on my clock. 7:00Am. Hm. Life DOES go on after death. Go figure. I swing my long, gaunt legs over the edge of my bed and stumble blindly to my closet. Grab the first pair of pants I touch. The black jeans I wore to her funeral. Now a shirt. Long sleeved, also black, button down. White sweater vest Garcia gave me for Christmas three years ago. All my clothes hang off my almost anorexic in appearance frame. Trudge to the bathroom. The mirror confirms what she was saying the last time we spoke.
"Spencer, Look at you! You are so gangly, and pale. I'm worried son. Are you REALLY okay?"
Shake my head, desperate to clear her from my memory. My brown hair needs to be cut, REALLY needs it. It hangs to my elbows; I must look like a girl from behind. Pull it back with a rubber band sitting on the counter. Grab matching black socks. Normally protest that they can't match… Bad luck… Don't care anymore. Pull on my All-Stars, lace up. Grab my bag, keys, badge, and phone. Lock up and head out. Walking fast, head down. Up the stairs, into the elevator. Out into the Pen. Hotch is there, with Rossi and Morgan. They smile at first, happy I'm back. Then they see my face. Hotch starts to ask, I brush it off and go to my desk. JJ and Prentiss are sitting at Prentiss' desk, laughing. They look up as I sit down. They ask how I am, offer smiles of welcome. I still feel hollow. Garcia rushes in squealing. She is happy I'm back… Do I need anything? I shake my head and study the newest case dossier. Maybe I can drown in work. Maybe these deaths won't let me think about my own tradigy. But the voice keeps nagging. HER voice.
"If you hadn't put me here, I wouldn't have done this Spencer."
So I keep my head down so they don't see me break again, the tears flood as I think that maybe… I could have saved her. If I hadn't abandoned her. I sigh. Stand up. Move on. Life has a purpose for everything. I have to accept that.