Disclaimer:: I own nothing that has anything you recognize. Lyrics go to Rascal Flatts. Characters go to Criminal Minds. Only the plotline is my own.
Author's Note:: Okay. This fic is full of firsts for me. It's my first ever songfic, and also my first ever 2nd person fic. If you have any suggestions on how to help me write better in either category, leave it in the comments or PM me. Thanks.
POV:: Aaron Hotchner
Warning:: Character Death
You must have been in a
Place so dark
You couldn't feel the light
Reaching for you through
That stormy cloud
It had been two days since the last case you two worked together. It had seemed so short at the time. You knew the case had shaken him, you just didn't know how deeply it had done so. It wasn't until you got called in for yet another grueling case of children being murdered. You wondered if he'd have it in him to continue on this one, or maybe he would need to sit this case out. No.. you knew better. He doesn't want you to see him as weak.. so he won't sit it out. You were concerned, yes, but you weren't actually worried until he didn't show up.
Now here we are
Gathered in our little hometown
This can't be the way
You meant to draw a crowd
It's been four days. Four days since concern had driven you to his door and eventually into his living room, then seconds later to his bedroom. At first you think he's sleeping, and you go to wake him up. As soon as your skin touches him, you know he's not going to. Cold, stiff, lifeless under your touch, you're terrified. Your mind and body reject the thought.. surely if you just shake him, he'll wake up, then demand you get him coffee as compensation for waking him. But instinct and years in the BAU tells you that this kind of stiff.. you don't wake up from. You see the bottle of pills by the bed and realize things were much worse than anyone could've suspected. You walk through the field now, your right hand holding the casket as you carry it- him - through. You fight the tears, knowing you must be strong, but it doesn't change the fact that he's gone. Some point, although you can't recall when, you go numb. All the pain stops, and all emotion stops. You don't feel a thing.
Oh why, that's what I keep asking
Was there anything I could've
Said or done?
Was it your fault? Should you have noticed? Taken him out of the field long before? If you had done your job as his superior, it never would have happened. If you had just done what you were supposed to do, if you had just kept him safe! But no.. you failed him. You didn't pay attention. You didn't notice him start to loose himself. You didn't notice when he wasn't getting enough sleep or when he was frequently losing track of things. You notice these things now, but now is too late. Now he's gone. Now he can't ever come back.
Oh, I had no clue you were
Masking
A troubled soul, God only knows
What went wrong
Sure you knew he wasn't as bright and cheery as he used to be, but the sick truth was, that happened to you as you did this job for too long. You never understood how Gideon could just walk away, but at the same time you do understand why he had to. You start to lose yourself. You've never been that far in, that far lost.. but you now know that Reid had been. He'd been lost and missing for so long, and you had never been there to find him, never there to help. You tell yourself you couldn't have prevented it, this is just guilt talking. But you know it's not- not entirely. You could've done something. You could've kept him safe. But you didn't. And you can't now.
And why
You would leave the stage
In the middle of a song?
But why didn't he say anything! Tell you, ask for help! Now you're angry. You know it's irrational to be angry, but you can't help it. How were you supposed to help if he wouldn't ask? How were you supposed to do the right thing if he wouldn't. It then occurs to you that the cases he worked while depressed... he put people in danger! If he had to make a choice and that depression clouded his judgement, even for a second.. now you're even more angry. How could he be so selfish! And then to just leave! To say he cared, to say you were all his family.. and then he just left! He didn't tell anyone he was upset, so why should you feel bad. You know you don't mean any of this, you're just looking for some kind of rational to compensate for the grief, but it doesn't change the emotions felt at the time. For a second, you wonder what's going to happen now.
Now in my mind I'll keep you frozen
As a seventeen-year-old
Rounding third to score the
Winning run
You picture him, happy and carefree as the time Rossi organized a cook out at a local park. You can almost see him playing with Henry, purposely being slow so that he and Jack can beat him in races, and always content for the demanded 'rematch' whenever he allowed himself to win. You can see him sitting cross-legged on the grass, showing the boys magic tricks. Try as they might, the adults would soon get drawn in too. You start to smile at the memory. You stop. You have no right to smile. No right to reminisce. He's gone now, and he's not coming back. Now you have to go console Jack because it's finally sunk in that Uncle Spencer can't come over anymore.
You always played with passion
No matter what the game
When you took the stage
You'd shine just like the sun
As you force yourself not to give up on your daily life, you find yourself seeing Spencer in everything around you. The coffee machine reminds you of every single jibe given by Morgan about the kid's coffee habits. The books in your own office remind you of his love of reading. The jet reminds you of games of poker and chess. And looking over the bullpen leaves you remembering the feeling that, even though they were the brightest minds you knew, you still felt like you were babysitting 90% of the time. You think of how he poured everything into everyone who needed him no matter what. You realize he was the heart of your team, and you wonder how you'll ever be able to function again. You find yourself going home early and rushing paperwork, merely for the fact that you don't want to be close to so many reminders of the life tragically cut short.
Oh why, that's what I keep asking
Was there anything I could've
Said or done?
You find yourself asking yet again if it was your fault. Could you have done something? Could you have noticed? Maybe. Maybe not. But it doesn't matter now. It's too late. You find yourself watching the team now. JJ is always red-eyed. Constantly mourning the loss of her friend. Morgan is about ready to hit anything that stays in his path long enough, hating the fact that he lost his little brother. Rossi looks listless, like he can't decide if it's worth it to come into work every day. Garcia doesn't laugh anymore. She doesn't joke or flirt with Morgan. She doesn't try to make everything lighter. She stays quiet and does her job. Nothing more, nothing less. Blake didn't know him as long, but even she seems like part is missing. When you look at your own reflection, you're reminded of all the grieving parents you see on your jobs when their children are gone, and that fact is ironic. Reid was so scared of his father figures leaving, yet he was the one who left you.
Oh, I had no clue you were
Masking
A troubled soul, God only knows
What went wrong
You justify yourself. You tell yourself there was nothing you could've done, that it's not your fault, but it all seems like excuses to nobody. You feel the need to justify everything you do, and find yourself losing touch with the reason you do your job. The days start to blur into each other, and sometimes you wonder what direction is up. Is there any way to get back to the semblance of the life you used to live? Is there any chance to redeem the mistakes you made with Spencer to help someone else? You do your best to stay 'on the bright side' as it were, but that's exceptionally hard when everything is bathed in shadow, and the only light that can be seen seems miles away and unreachable. You know people are avoiding you, and you don't care. You don't want their sympathy. You want to take back it all, all the mistakes. Every time you came down on him for a misstep or a white lie. But you can't. And you have to accept that. But it's hard, and sometimes you just don't want to.
And why
You would leave the stage
In the middle of a song
You frequently check in on his mother now. Her health started deteriorating after Spencer died. She stopped eating and ended up in the hospital. You wait with her to wake up. And when she does, she asks you where Spencer is. Before you can reply, she asks you if he's off on one of his adventures again. You see some light return to her eyes, and you can't bare to take that from her. So you put on your best fake smile, and agree, telling her he's off on a grand adventure. When she asks when he'll be back, you just keep the smile and say it wouldn't be an adventure if he knew what was coming. You leave Vegas that night, knowing staying won't help Diana any more than it will help you. But you make a note to keep tabs on her, make sure she's doing alright whenever possible.
Now the oak trees are swaying
In the early autumn breeze
A golden sun is shining on my face
You stand in front of the grave and talk to him. You tell him how all Henry wants for Christmas is a magic trick kit. You tell him how Jack got upset when he didn't get all As on his report because it meant he 'couldn't be like Uncle Spencer'. You stand there for almost an hour, just talking. Someone you didn't expect shows up a few minutes later. William Reid walks and stands a few feet away from you, before gently running his fingers over the top of the tombstone. Neither of you speak, and you can't help but feel angry. William Reid almost destroyed his son, yet he's here, grieving. You know it's because of the way Will Reid acted that Spencer came to the BAU, but that almost adds to your anger. A few minutes later the elder Reid left, and you just stood there, your emotions settling somewhat, as you enjoy the warmth from the sun on your skin.
Through tangled thoughts
I hear a mockingbird sing
This old world really ain't that
Bad of a place
You eventually leave the tombstone and walk to your car before returning to work. You pick up the name plate labeled Spencer Reid that nobody has touched, and take it into your office. Sliding it into your desk drawer, you place it next to the picture of Reid with Jack and Henry from the day at the park. You smile, your first real smile since Reid's death. If anyone asks where the name plate is, you'll tell them, it's not like you're hiding it. You just don't want it thrown into some bin. You leave early that day. You're not running from the memories this time though. You go home, and you play with your son. You chase him through the back yard, playing 'cops and robbers'. You know you can be happy, it will just take some effort for awhile.
Oh why, there's no comprehending
And who am I to try to
Judge or explain
Oh, but I do have one
Burning question
Now that you've accepted that you can move on, and that you can heal.. it gets easier. You know they'll be adding another agent to fill the role left by Reid. And you know he'll never be the heart and soul of the group like Reid was. And you don't want them to be. The hole that felt punched in your chest is slowly being refilled now. You're playing with your son, enjoying life.. you're loving your family more than you ever have before. But then you start to doubt, and for a moment you're falling again. Have you started to forget him? No.. That's when you realize. You got better because you couldn't get worse. You realize that when you hit rock bottom, there's nowhere to go, but up again.
Who told you life wasn't
Worth the fight
They were wrong, they lied
Now you're gone and we cry
You wonder what made him resort to killing himself. Why couldn't he just tell you? But you know. You know for the same reason you know you wouldn't have told anybody. You and the others were his family. He had to protect you. Even from himself. He didn't want you to worry. He didn't want you to choose him over yourself or your family. He didn't want you to hurt, so he allowed himself to exist in misery. You visit his grave more often now, telling him news and about the people the team has saved. About his replacement and how the new agent will never compare to him, but how you'll accept him anyway. You tell him about the boys, and about how Garcia's starting to joke again. You know it will never be the same... and you know he can't hear you.. but he'd want to know. So you'll tell him. Every time you get the chance.
'Cause it's not like you to
Walk away
In the middle of a song
There's now a table in the corner of the conference room, with a picture of Reid, a brown satchel, and the pictures of the many people he helped save. It was your idea, and you set it up one morning after coming in early. You want everyone to know the good that came from Spencer Reid. You want them to love, and to be happy and to enjoy life the way you know he would want them to. You're trying to do so as well, although you do occasionally have your bad days, where 9 years of habit almost have you teaming up Morgan with Reid to go to a victims house. Or when an animal doesn't like you and you joke that the 'Reid effect' might have rubbed off. These still hurt, but you're getting better. And they don't hurt as much.
Your beautiful song
"It has been said, 'time heals all wounds.' I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone" You remember the quote, Reid told it to you once, and you think about it now. Two years after the tragic day you found him. Things are as normal as they can be without him. Garcia laughs more, Morgan puts all his dedication into everything he does. JJ and Kayla, the one who became his replacement are just about best friends and do everything together. Rossi re-retired, but he still makes regular visits and often consults. He wrote a book about Spencer, about all the lives he saved, and about how everyone loved him. He let you read it first, and by the end you had laughed, cried and everything in between. It's waiting to get published now. You still check in on Reid's mom, paying her occasional visits. Sometimes she asks about your adventures now, and you tell her some.. and before long, you write her letters as well. The 'memorial' you set up for him in the conference room has grown. Some of Reid's favorite books, a chessboard, and several pictures have since been added. You have a plan to buy Rossi's new book as soon as it comes out and add it to the memorial. Some days are still harder than others though, and sometimes it shows. On those days, people know to leave you alone.. but you've stopped pulling away. You're more involved with your team now, and you family, although now you don't distinguish a large difference between the two. You don't hurt as much anymore. You think of all the good he did, and all the people he helped and made better. You stop being sad that he's gone, and you're happy that he existed in the first place.
Your absolutely beautiful song
When you think of him now, you smile.
What do you think? Good? Crappy? Let me know in a comment!