Diclaimer: I do not own criminal minds

It had been 2 weeks.

Two long weeks since Maeve's death and yet Spencer Reid still remembered it like it was just yesterday. Although his eidetic memory is helpful at letting him get his job done, it was also a curse. He couldn't get the image out of his head; the memory of his girlfriend being shot right there in front of him.

He couldn't close his eyes without feeling like he was re-living it. In fact, he had hardly slept in two weeks, he hadn't eaten, hadn't left his apartment, hadn't spoken to anybody. He was angry with himself; angry that he hadn't managed to save her. Perhaps if he had handled it differently then she could have still been alive.

He wouldn't feel the way he did now; depressed, alone, empty. If Maeve were here now, he would be happier than he has ever been. They would be planning their future together and all those bad memories in the past would be replaced with much happier ones. There would be no hole in his heart. He wouldn't be hurting like he was right now.

He so badly wanted to take the pain away. Just like the dilaudid had six years ago but despite the cravings that he hasn't had in so long, he didn't want to leave his apartment to get it. He wasn't ready to go out, he wasn't ready to leave to dark place he was sitting in right now no matter how badly he needed to feel a needle in his arm.

His apartment was messy, books all over the floor, mirror in the bathroom smashed, leaving glass scattered across the ground. He had to admit, when he had punched the mirror in anger, the pain, the cuts on his knuckles, had given him the relief that dilaudid once had.

Sitting on the carpet, against the door with his knees up to his chest, he examined the old injuries on his hand. He had done it the day after Maeve's death, after looking at the pathetic man in the mirror.

His hand had hurt at the time but now the thought of pain made him smile...another thing that he hadn't done in two weeks. It wasn't that he liked being in pain, it had more to do with physical pain covering up the emotional torment that he had been in for a fortnight.

But even if he did inflict pain upon himself, he doubted that it would hide the mental pain that he was going through. When he was a teenager, cutting was the way he made it through high school and had stopped just after he graduated from college but at the time, the only thing he had been dealing with were bullies that were much older than he was and that was nothing compared to what he was going through now.

Reid slowly stood and walked towards the bathroom, his eyes focused on the shards of glass on the carpet. He crouched down and picked a piece up with his shaking hand. Holding something so sharp brought back many memories of his childhood, like the times he slept with a razor blade hiding underneath his pillow, the times he pressed the sharp object against his thin arms that already had horizontal patterns of red lines from the previous days or weeks.

He remembered the times as a child when he questioned himself why he hadn't ended it yet but then he figured that would have just been selfish of him. His mother had been ill and he was the only one who could help her.

But now...now his mother was being cared for by other people; professionals...and Spencer didn't think he could continue his job. Not anymore. Although his job consisted of saving people, it also got personal too often and he just couldn't take it anymore. Spencer finally found love in his life and it just got snatched away from him. He was almost 31 and there is still so much that he hasn't done. His whole life was a wreck, no matter how much he tried to make a difference to the world.

When Maeve came into his life, he finally felt it. He finally felt the real reason to life...love, happiness, hope and then it was just taken away from him. He only got 100.5 days of communication with her, he never even got to tell Maeve that he loved her although he hoped that she already knew.

Fresh tears fell from Spencer's cheeks as he remembered the time Maeve slipped on the phone.

"Bye, love you"

Why hadn't he said it back? He shouldn't have waited for their first meeting. But then again, he had imagined their first meeting being magical...but it was the complete opposite.

Spencer held the shard of glass so tightly that it was cutting up the palm of his hand but he wasn't focused on that. He was more focused on the way he was dragging the piece vertically up his arm, cutting into his veins.

Another reason why he hadn't tried to end it as a child was because he was afraid. But now Spencer didn't feel anything. Even as he watched the blood leave his body, he felt emotionless. He moved onto his other arm, dragging the shard of glass down his left wrist too.

Spencer fell onto the ground as his body felt weak. His vision was going dark but he didn't mind. He would happily accept it.

Maeve was in a better place now, and hopefully he would be too.

And when he sees her, he would tell her what he should have said over the phone that day.

I love you too, Maeve.

Please Review!

I'm unsure if I should keep it like this or to write a second chapter.