Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing. No copy right infringement is intended.

A/N: I am working on several stories with a happier ending, but this fic kept pulsing in my head until I wrote it down.

Emily Prentiss is dead.

Like a steady stream of other people I've been close to, she left me. That hurts, but what hurts worse is that I didn't get to say goodbye, which is consistent with most of the people who have left me behind.

My Dad left me and my mother when I was 10. He talked to me a little bit every day in the weeks before he left, but I didn't know he was going to leave until he did it. He left a note. What I didn't know then is all those little talks was him saying goodbye. I also didn't know he didn't leave town. I wish I had.

Elle Greenway left too. Her leaving wasn't the same as my Dad leaving. She didn't have much of a choice. Really, I hold myself partially to blame for her leaving. She was coming apart at the seams, but we didn't notice. We chose not to notice. She was shot in her own home. The man who shot her stuck his finger in the wound and wrote a single word on her wall.

Rules.

We broke one of his, and that was the punishment. She was never the same. We are supposed to be experts at observing behavior, and we didn't realize Elle was coming apart at the seams. We sent her undercover with a rapist. And when it looked like she shot him in cold blood, we weren't there for her.

So she had to leave. Most of us were on a case when she left.

I never said good-bye to her.

Jason Gideon.

Gideon became a replacement father to me. He's part of the reason I came to the FBI. He was teaching and guiding me. Then he left. No, that's not accurate. He vanished. He left a note. Just like my Dad. Unlike my Dad, though, I don't know where he is. He could be dead for all I know.

Now Emily. She's gone. She kept secrets from us. She tried to fight Doyle all by herself, all in the name of protecting us. If she trusted us, if she told us, maybe she would be alive.

Today was her funeral. It was the second funeral in the last two years. I was a pall bearer this time.

Last time I was too hurt to do it. I got shot in the knee, and it took me a while to recover. This time, though, I was strong enough to be a pall bearer. I said good-bye to the casket. I said good-bye at the grave. I just might be saying good-bye to her forever.

After the funeral, I was in my apartment, looking at the bookcases full of books. I used to love books and reading. In that moment, though, when I looked at them I felt like Alice saying to the Red Queen's guards" you are all just a deck of cards. The only thing in the apartment that gives me any comfort is the electronic keyboard I bought a few weeks ago. I've just started learning to play. That night, after Emily's funeral, playing the keyboard was the only thing that gave me any comfort. I have several songs memorized. For some reason, though, there was one particular song I kept playing.

I've heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this
The fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

After I played the song a few times, I started singing it. While I was singing that verse, I thought I heard Emily.

"I like music, Reid. I like hearing you play it."

I stopped playing for a moment. I looked around. She wasn't there. I must have just imagined it. I started playing and singing again.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty
in the moonlight
overthrew you
She tied you
To a kitchen chair
She broke your throne,
she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you Reid." I heard Emily say again." I'm sorry I didn't get to say good-bye to you. I never meant for this to happen."

I stopped playing again. I looked around, but I didn't see her. I was worried. I've been having headaches and seeing things that aren't there. I've been seeing doctors, but they can't explain to me what's going on. Is this more of that or is this something else?

I started playing and singing some more.

Maybe I've been here before
I know this room, I've walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you
I've seen your flag on the marble arch
love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

"Reid."

It's Emily's voice again. I ignore it.

There was a time you'd let me know
What's real and going on below
But now you never show it to me do you?
Remember when I moved in you?
The holy dark was moving too
And every breath we drew was hallelujah

"Reid look at me." I kept ignoring the voice. I did this with my urges and cravings for dialud. They went away, eventually. I still go to meetings sometimes to fight it. Right now, I was playing and singing and hoping I would stop having this hallucination.

Maybe there's a God above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
It's not a cry you can hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah

"Spencer Reid, look at me."

I feel her hand on my shoulder. I turn around and I see her. She's dressed in white, like an angel. I can feel tears running down my cheeks. She's giving me an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Emily..." I tried to say something. I had so much in my heart that I wanted to say, but now I can't think of it. "Emily ..." I tried again.

"I'm sorry Spencer. I didn't want to do this to you. You don't need one more person to leave you without saying good bye. I should have told you. I should have done something else. I just … I'm sorry."

"Are you real?" the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"You're the best judge of that, I think."

"Emily. I ..."

"Don't think about it now. Just remember, it's like with Benjamin Cyrus. None of this is your fault. I chose to do this. And I would do it again."

Then she was gone. I was alone in my apartment. I didn't know what to make of any of this. I turned back to the keyboard, and played a different song.

And she'll promise you more than the garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding
But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself 'cause she's always a woman to me

It doesn't really describe her. There were sides to her we didn't know. It isn't until this moment, when I know I will never see her again that I realize how much I miss her. I think maybe I loved her. I stop playing for a while.

When I start playing again, I wonder if I'll ever be happy again.

A/N: I don't know what to do with this. I just felt this needed to be written down and shared. As always, feedback is appreciated.