A/N

I'm sorry, know it's been a long time, my life is one problem after another at the moment. But I'm looking back at some old fics and starting to get back into my writing… Ok. So, every chapter in this fic is based on a song by Maroon 5 from their album It Won't Be Soon before Long (hence, the title). The quotes will also be quoted from the song the chapter is based on. There are mild references to the song, but whether or not you decide to listen to it shouldn't have any effect on the story, although I would recommend looking them up :) Well, there isn't much else to say except Read, Enjoy and please please please Review!

Chapter One: Better That We Break

POV: None

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"It's not right, not ok
To say the words that you say
Maybe it's better that we break…"

Spencer Reid gazed longingly out of his kitchen window, wondering just where time went when it had passed. It was a stupid question, he knew that, but nevertheless he couldn't help asking. Maybe if he knew where it went, he wouldn't be stuck there thinking about how cruel time could be…

It was after a gruelling case and, as cliché as this all sounds, they were all tired and in need of comfort. Spencer had been unlucky enough to get injured, and was instructed to stay off work for two weeks after being released from hospital to ensure he had recovered from concussion and until the wound, which had needed 5 stitches, was healed. This clashed with a week of personal leave Hotch was taking so he could spend time with Jack following his divorce, but Jack had fallen ill with the flu and Hayley insisted on rescheduling. Annoyed, Hotch stayed on his personal leave, and he and Spencer grew close. When Hotch returned to work, Morgan was off with the flu, and Reid looked after him. That was about as much as the young genius was clear on… the rest of the two months was a blur. In that time the three had grown closer than anything… they were an item. They hadn't all been at work together at the same time in two months due to varying factors, and the past two weeks had been a whole team vacation that Rossi had insisted on. But tomorrow they were to go back to work… And they had agreed that they couldn't go on being together…

Agreed: a past participle verb meaning 'to think or say the same as'.

That's what the dictionary says. Reality says something completely different.

Compromise: noun, a settlement of differences in which each side gives up something it has previously demanded.

Reality says these two words mean more or less the same thing… Spencer didn't want to leave his partners… but he had to. He remembered last night, how Derek was laid against Aaron's side an arm draped over his shoulders whilst the elder profiler's left arm wrapped around the dark males waist. Spencer had been snuggled up in Aarons lap, both Aaron and Derek's free arms enveloping him. He had fallen asleep there… and woken up alone in his cold bed early that morning. But he couldn't think about that right now… he had to work. To pretend nothing had been going on. It wouldn't be easy… but… it was necessary… he had to at least pretend that he thought it was better off this way.

Aaron continued to stare at his bedroom ceiling even after the alarm clock had finished shrieking in his ear. He hadn't slept a wink. He was too busy thinking about the past two months… Every time he had tried to get comfortable, he had visions of Derek's strong arms holding him close as they watched their young partner drift contently into a peaceful slumber in his lap, an adorable smile and faint blush playing on his smooth features. Each time he turned out the lights he remembered turning out the lights in Spencer's room as dark cherry lips crashed against his in one last passionate kiss before the two went to get their coats. Whenever he attempted to close his eyes, images of walking away from Spencer's door swarmed his mind, how he hadn't even given Spencer one last kiss before leaving… how he watched as Derek mounted his bike and hesitated before speeding away, as if he had to go as fast as he could lest some unnamed force dragged him back through the young males door and into his warm awaiting embrace… and how he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the bedroom window and slowly make the drive back to his own rented apartment. He attempted in vain to leave these illustrations behind him by taking Nytol and staring at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overcome him… something he was still waiting for as he grabbed a piece of toast, gulped down his coffee and made his way to the BAU to start off the morning's paperwork and pray to some superior being he wasn't entirely sure he believed in that there wouldn't be a case. Still he was trying to persuade himself that it was better off this way.

The alarm clock screeched and vibrated on the nightstand reminding him, yet again, that he should get up and get ready for work and, yet again, Derek found himself hitting that all too tempting, irresistible snooze button and rolling over, refusing to open his eyes. Why did alarm clocks even have a snooze button? Alarms were set to get you up in the morning, and having a button sat there staring up at you with the promises of a longer sleep… it was just too persuasive…as the screeching started up again, Derek cracked open an eye and glared at the irritating object before falling out of bed. 7:32am… he was running late! But… he had been having the most amazing dream. In his dream, he and Aaron had woken up their young lover to say goodbye, and Spencer had begged them not to leave… he was just so alluring, and the three of them made passionate love, swearing never to think about leaving each other again… And god, that dream was full of mind blowing sex! It was at that moment that Derek's attention was drawn to his aching erection, and he had no choice but to relieve himself before getting ready for work. After all, a cold shower wasn't going to help when in a short amount of time he was going to be face to face with the objects of his desires and fantasies… but no matter how much it pained him, it was better this way. They were better off this way…

Hotch gazed out of his office window and down into the busy bullpen. He hadn't noticed it start filling up with people until JJ had come in with a couple of case files for him to look at. Derek was late, he noted, by about 45 minutes… he was debating whether or not to let it slide when the muscular male entered the office.

"Hey Hotch, sorry I'm late." He tried to ignore the pain it caused to hear his boyfriend… ex-boyfriend… being so formal again.

"Is everything ok?" Morgan tried not to flinch as Hotch spoke as if he had no recollection of their time together.

"No, sir. Just a bit of traffic." Both of the males turned their gaze away for fear of what they may find in the other's eyes, and said nothing more as Morgan left the office. He could feel Spencer's gaze upon him as he made his way down the stairs and sat at his desk. Morgan couldn't meet his eyes either. Reid understood, he was also afraid. The eyes are said to be the gateway to the soul, and the soul can be a scary place when you are trying to avoid the truth, especially when the truth works against you whatever it may be. Even when he found himself in the break room with both of his former partners, none of them would meet each others eyes. Reid knew why he couldn't. If he was to look into Derek or Aaron's eyes and still see the love and adoration he saw when they were together, he wouldn't be able to bear being away from them, living this lie they didn't loved each other… but if he were to look in their eyes and see none of that love… none of that adoration… he would break down. The thought that they could be over him so quickly… that the past two months may have held no meaning whatsoever…

"Something wrong, Reid?" No playful nickname or dazzling grin from the dark male, just 'Reid'. Plastering a faux smile across his face, Spencer shook his head

"No, I'm fine."

"Ok." And that's how the rest of the day went. And the day after that. And the day after that. Spencer thought about breaking. Whenever he was alone in the bullpen, knowing that Aaron was in the office just a short distance away… whenever he glanced into the training rooms and saw Derek, shirt clinging to his toned chest and abs, looking so hot as he stood there flexing his muscles… and whenever he was by himself, alone in his apartment wishing for the warmth of his beloved's arms around him… he was going to break, he knew he couldn't last much longer and had hyped himself up to get his love's back that Wednesday, a little over a week after their 'break up'… but then it started happening. He was filled with the dread that he was going insane… now he was sure that they were better off this way.

On Wednesday when Spencer entered the bullpen, he didn't spare Morgan or Hotch a glance, just sat and began working. Morgan's brow creased with worry as he realised the young genius was an hour and a half late, and he listened as intently as he could as Hotch crept over to the brunette's desk and asked him why this was. He couldn't hear the whole reply, but the few words he got – ill… doctor… weekly appointments…- alongside the unit chief's worried frown were enough to confirm his fear. Something was very wrong with their Pretty Boy… no, not their Pretty Boy. Reid. Something was wrong with Reid… he spent the rest of the day doing his best to fight the urge to trap the young genius in a corner, ask him what was wrong, comfort him then kiss him senseless. So when it came time to leave, Morgan shot out of the bureau and went straight home. Hotch was still in his office, feeling suffocated by his workload as he ploughed through the monstrous paper mountain before him. At 7:55 he decided to take the bulk of it home with him, but stopped dead in his tracks as he saw Reid standing out in the rain, just standing there, almost as if he was possessed or frozen in place. He looked cold, so pale and fragile that he could have been made of finely blown glass, but before Aaron could call out to him he shot off around the corner and was gone, slipped into a taxi. He considered stopping the taxi, offering Spencer a lift himself, but then he thought of Hayley. He knew she would disapprove of him being gay, let alone with two other men… but her disapproval didn't mean as much to him as the fact that she may stop him seeing Jack… and he was certain that she would hate the idea of his relationship, his finding happiness elsewhere, so much that she would try and stop him from seeing Jack if she found out… so instead, he just got into his own car and headed to his own cold, lonely apartment to finish his paperwork.

The sound of fizzing sliced through the silence as Morgan cracked open another can and gulped down the golden liquid before throwing the tin carcass onto a pile of several others. He wasn't drunk – four of the cans on the pile had been from the night before. He had only just finished his fourth for this night… yet he craved another. Not because it tasted nice, because he fancied alcohol, or even because he was thirsty, but because it was the only thing that would relax him enough to get his mind off of Aaron and Spencer and help him get to sleep. Not that his dreams were safe from them either… what he needed was a more permanent distraction… failing that, maybe he should start clubbing again? Drown his sorrows with a few no-strings-attached nights of harmless fun, rather than dwell on what could have been whilst throwing away his money for a six pack a night. Besides, it wasn't like anyone would be suspicious. It was natural for him, no one cared if he was being a player, but he knew how much shit he'd get from being in a relationship with not one but two men. He knew he'd have to hide a relationship like that in order to prevent trouble. And he wasn't sure he'd be able to live like that… he was snapped out of his thoughts as his house phone began to ring. Waiting until the answer machine started, he walked over to see who was calling, confused when no message was left, and the number was withdrawn. Brushing it off as a sales call, he was decided. This coming Friday he would go clubbing, and he would go wild.

Spencer stood in silence, nervously chewing his lower lip and debating calling again. His hand lay on the phone trembling slightly before he managed to rip himself away and retreat to his kitchen for a drink. Quietly he poured himself a glass of water and took out his medicine. It was a natural medicine, no narcotics, that was supposed to help relax his brain and relieve stress. His doctor, an old friend, had offered to make house calls if he needed him- something that, surprisingly, he was seriously considering. Part of him wanted to call Derek and Aaron and see if they'd stay with him… but that wouldn't be a good idea. He didn't want them to feel obliged into 'looking after him'. He would just be a burden. It seemed like the troubled genius would have to settle for asking his doctor over if he needed company, because he doubted he'd be able to get through this alone… especially if it really was schizophrenia…

"I'm not fine, I'm in pain!
It's harder every day
Maybe we're better off this way
It's better that we break."