Spencer Reid, child genius and youngest FBI profiler in a century, bit his lip nervously as he stood in the doorway staring at the blanketed figure hunched by the window. Outlined sharply against the setting sun, her long fingers could be clearly seen turning the well-loved pages of what he knew to be her favorite book.
Memories of curling up with her against the pillows with a warm cup of coffee in his hands flashed before his eyes as her soft voice invaded his thoughts, once again bringing Chaucer's words to life.
All those years she had been there for him. True, she may not always have been fully aware of what was going on, but that didn't matter. She was always there to comfort him with warm coffee and words written centuries ago which, spoken in her voice, found their way into his very soul.
So he stood in the doorway staring longingly at the silhouette of the person he loved most, her brilliant mind broken and chained by the illness that had stolen her from him. He longed to run to her. To take her in his arms as she had done for him so many years ago and whisper in her ear that all was well. But he held back. He couldn't. Hidden by the frame of the door, words of another poet floated through his thoughts. Dark words that made him fear for what his future might hold.
Remember me as you pass by
As you are now so once was I
As I am now, so you shall be
Prepare yourself to follow me
Shaking his head, the young man slowly turned and walked out. From the woman by the window, a single tear fell silently onto the unread page as her son's reflection disappeared from sun-glazed pane.