Authors Note: I don't CM or anything pertaining to it. I do own my own original characters. No copyright infringement is intended.
Spoiler: Revelations
Every day I watch him. He doesn't notice that I see everything. He doesn't know that I've been in love with him since the day I first saw him. He was so shy he barely said hello. He was so young, and I'm - well I'm not as young as him. It wasn't his beauty that drew me to him that first day. It was something that I saw in his eyes that called to me.
I was so overwhelmed that day. My life was changing; I was an FBI agent, something I'd wanted for a long time. Even though I thought I would never get the hang of the job, I took my cues from him. He'd been in the FBI for five years and yet somehow he remains an innocent.
I see everything as I've told you. I saw how he wanted her, and I watched her talk to him, run her hand through his hair to purposely mess it up. It wasn't a caress born of affection, but that of an older sister, that was trying to irritate him. He tried to laugh it off, but I knew; I saw how much her indifference hurt him.
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One day I watched him make a coin dance across his knuckles and disappear from his hands, into and behind other people's ears. The others laughed and they encouraged him to entertain them, as if he were a dog trained to perform for their pleasure. I was drawn in as well, and I couldn't stop myself from asking him to tell me how the trick was done.
"A magician never reveals his secrets." He told me with a grin. The others laughed at me. I left; I knew my face was burning.
"Hey, his partner said to him. "Looks like you have an admirer." He told his partner to shut up, but not before he blushed.
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One night, I rounded the corner to take the elevator and he was standing there alone his messenger bag slung over his shoulder and his arms full of files.
"Oh hi, I didn't know anyone else worked as late as me."
"Ah - hi I just had some paperwork to catch up on. I fiddled with my hair twisting it nervously while he looked up at the elevator display. It read that the car was on the first floor.
"So, do you think it's going to rain tonight?" I think about it now and I can't believe I said something so stupid.
"I don't know," he said, continuing to look at the elevator instead of me. His face was a little pink and I wondered if what his partner said still embarrassed him or if it was me. The elevator reached the floor below us.
"I - ah, I forgot something, see you on Monday." I turned and fled. I sat down at my desk a room away and burst into tears when he got into the elevator without so much as a backward glance. Why was he treating me this way? Why couldn't I just talk to him?
I went home that night and raged up and down in my room chastising myself for my inability to go after what I wanted. There was no rule that said that agents can't socialize, so why not go for it. He didn't notice the next day when I came in with shadows under my eyes. He took the last of the coffee.
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One day he came to work with a cute hair cut and the most god awful glasses I had ever seen. I had given up talking to him, but that didn't mean I couldn't continue to admire him from afar. I hoped that he would go back to contacts. That day after they left, I put a small yellow, stuffed toy cat on his desk. I didn't leave a note.
I had to wait three days for him to come back and see the gift I left for him. He was puzzled and red faced. He looked around, but he didn't see me, he never sees me anymore. His partner teased him for a long time, and they all speculated where it came from, but no one mentioned my name.
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I left a book on Chaucer on his desk a month later. He had probably already read it, but I knew he would like it better then a contemporary novel. He looked around as before, this time his eyes were calculating and he almost caught me staring at him. I just had time to duck my head and pretend to work. I looked back up and saw him place the book in his desk just before his partner entered the room. I watched him for days, but he never took it home. Why not, it wasn't stolen property, there was nothing wrong with that book, how dare he just leave it there and ignore it.
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Christmas came, I hate that holiday and I told them I didn't want time off to go home. I wanted to stay in town. At least I could pretend he was there instead of off visiting his crazy mother half a country away.
It was Christmas Eve, and I left a brightly wrapped box on his desk, where they would all see it when they came back to work. I had to wait a week, but they all finally came back to the office. It was gratifying to see his face when his partner grabbed the package from him and shook it. I listened to them fight about whether to open it then. Oh how I hoped he would, but he didn't. He waited till they all left for the night, and then he opened the box.
I watched him from around a corner, pull off the gold ribbon and then carefully open the red paper without damaging it. How did I know he wouldn't rip the paper? He folded it and dropped it into the trash can. He took the top off the box and I saw his face turn crimson. He stared at the item in the box for a long time. He pulled out the black lace thong and held it up. I watched him bring it to his face and inhale. He flushed a deeper red and shoved it into his bag. I wanted to laugh; he was going to take it home with him.
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Then there was a case with someone called Tobias Henkel, he kidnapped and tortured my beautiful boy. He wasn't the same after that. He became nervous and paranoid. He was mean and hurtful. One day I walked around the corner with arms full of files, I ran straight into him and the files went everywhere. Instead of stuttering and apologizing, he hardly looked at me, instead he said, "sorry" and walked away without helping me pick them up. Hours of work was ruined. I went to my desk and cried. I went home. I stopped giving him gifts.
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He almost died a week ago. Everyone was talking about how he'd overdosed in the men's room on something called Dilaudid. I should have known he was using. Why didn't I see it, why didn't his friends see it? Why did they ignore all the signs? Now he was in rehab and it would be months before he saw me again. I wonder if he still has my panties and does he fantasize about me or her?
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He came back today. It's been six months, the longest six months or my life. I was so happy to see him. I walked over to his desk for the first time in eight months and three days. I was going to welcome him back, when she walked over to him and kissed him. This time when her hand caressed his hair, it was with love not derision. I couldn't believe it. I refused to believe it. I tried to back away, but he saw me when they broke apart. I waved lamely and said hello. I was going to cry so I walked away from them as fast as I could. How dare she lay her hands on him? She only felt sorry for him; she didn't love him, not like I loved him.
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Now I am stepping into the hot water in the bath tub. There are red candles lit and placed all around the bathroom. The water is scented with lavender bath salt and the water feels good. I'm scared, but I have to end the pain. The physical pain will be brief and then it will be over. I pick up the razor as the steam rises from the water. I look at it in the candlelight and instead of being afraid I am suddenly at peace. This is the only thing I can do, he doesn't love me, and he doesn't even know I am alive. Now I'll be dead and maybe he'll feel something when they tell him.
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Gideon and Hotch presented their badges at the door to Agent Sarah Roberts apartment. Her supervisor, Agent Allen Rollins, motioned them over to him. His eyes were red and swollen. They were members of another team of profilers at Quantico.
"Jason, thanks for coming, Aaron." He shook their hands.
"Allen what happened here?" Gideon said, his face unreadable.
"She didn't show up to work this morning and we couldn't make her answer her cell, I came over to see what was wrong and found her. She slashed her wrists in the bathtub. There was a note left and it's addressed to - well just read it, you'll see why I wanted you here. The press can't get a hold of this."
Gideon opened the letter and read it out loud in a low voice to Hotch.
Dear Spencer,
I can't live anymore seeing you everyday with her and knowing that you'll love her always, and to you I'll always be invisible. I tried to tell you, I left you gifts and you never knew, never suspected.
I hate you more than I've ever hated anyone in my life. My death is on your hands, and if I rot in hell I'm sure you'll join me there one day.
Eternally yours in death,
Sarah
Gideon folded it and handed it to the CSI with the request it be forwarded to the federal lab for processing. As long as he had breath in his body, Reid would never see it.