Chapter One

It seemed almost impossible to believe that it had been exactly a year since Maeve had died. How had time passed? As Dr. Spencer Reid walked on the cool January day, it seemed to him that every brunette women who had passed him was the woman he had fallen in love with. But as he looked closer at the women from afar, there were subtle differences that only the young genius would realize; the hair on Maeve's head had been darker; her nose hadn't been as narrow; and her hands had been smaller. Even though the young genius had only meet Maeve face to face once, he remembered every detail of her face and the rest of her body. It's the only thing I can hold onto besides the conversations we had.

Reid wondered what would have happened if Maeve had survived the bullet that had killed her. Would she be married to him? Would they have children? These thoughts had not entered Reid's mind several months, but today he allowed himself to have such thoughts. Today is the first anniversary of her death. Sometimes Reid wondered if the memory of Maeve's death would always be as painful and scarring as it had been when it actually happened. Memories such as this caused him to curse his eidectic memory. His mind still remembered when his father had left him at ten with his mother; he remembered every moment of his torture at the hands of Tobias Hankle; Gideon's departure was fresh in his mind too; and Maeve's death had caused him to have a hole in his heart that had yet to heal.

Reid remembered the time when Hotch had taken the day off the year after his ex-wife had been murdered by Foyet. The leader of the team had suggested that Reid should take the day off today, just as he had done himself five years ago. Somehow Reid didn't like the idea. His mind was more unstable today than it had been this year so far, but he wasn't going to cause him to not come to work today. I'm stronger than I was, the young man told himself as the elevator reached its destination. I can do this. He was aware, however, that his team kept taking second glances at him when he walked passed. He heard the whispers around him as he sat at his desk, and looked back to see JJ hesitating slightly as she walked near him.

"Spence," JJ's strong voice was uncharacteristically shy. She was biting her lip when Reid's hazel eyes met hers. "Are sure you're okay today?"

"Yeah." Reid didn't miss the rasp in his voice when he spoke. He cleared his throat, but that caused his eyes to water slightly. Maeve… "I'm fine." He was aware of how his voice shook, and anger rushed through his head as another memory surfaced. "I should have a wealth of knowledge I should be applying to this case, but right now I can't focus on anything more than four seconds at a time, and that makes me the dumbest person in the room. So, please help me. Help me find her." Reid squeezed his eyes shut to make the memories go away, but they kept returning. His hands were tightly curled into fists.

"Reid." The young man opened his eyes and turned to find Morgan's strong hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

You promised me that we would live happily ever after. You lied, Morgan! You lied to me. Reid wanted so much to say these words out loud, but instead tears flowed from his eyes and a whimper escaped from his mouth.

Morgan's hand was steady as Reid continued to cry, and JJ softly moved her hand in small circles on his back. I thought I was ready, but I wasn't, the crying young man continued to think as his tears traveled down his cheeks. I wasn't ready, and I'm still in the same amount of pain as before when she died. Why…am I so…weak? Eventually the tears ceased, and Reid felt strangely calm after it was over. It felt as if the agony he had been carrying with him since this morning had been lifted from him.

"Reid, come in my office." Hotch had been watching the entire scene unfold it seemed. The leader of the team didn't allow emotions to emerge on his face, but now although his voice was the same, his eyes conveyed the sympathy he held for the youngest team member. As Reid sat in the chair across from Hotch, he allowed himself to observe his surroundings. Books were the first item he noticed; the titles hadn't changed in the nine years Hotch had taken office. Reid's hazel eyes wavered to the photo next to the books; a picture of a smiling Hotch with his son Jack, now eight, and his wife Beth and their infant daughter caused Reid to pause for a moment. Hotch fell in love again. Could that happen to me as well?

"Reid, you should take the day off today." Hotch was speaking quietly to him, almost tenderly. Reid looked for pity in his eyes out of habit but saw none. His thin hands intertwined, and he half expected Hotch to not hear his next words. "I didn't even want to wake up today," he whispered.

"It's okay. That happened to me too at one time." Reid looked up at Hotch in surprise. Hotch didn't even want to wake up the year of Haley died? Somehow that seemed unfathomable, but when Reid's hazel eyes met Hotch's brown ones, he knew that his boss was speaking the truth. "Take care of yourself," was the only advice Hotch gave him as he left Reid in his office.


Reid found himself staring forlornly at the grave of Maeve Donovan. It had been so long since he had last visited her. Dead flowers blew silently in the wind like live petals, and Reid swallowed the grief easing up in his throat. It had been him who had placed the flowers on her grave three months ago. He sighed deeply and kneeled down and brushed off the dust that covered her grave, tracing her name and the dates of her birth and death dates with his finger. Reid replaced the dead flowers with new ones that he had just bought, and kneeled down even farther so that some of the moisture from the wet grass soaked through his dark pants.

"I brought something to read to you, Maeve." Reid's voice echoed in the field of graves. No one was here today, mourning beside him. "Look." His eyes slightly watered as he stared at the only gift Maeve had given him. The Narration of John Smith was heavy in his hands. The young man opened the book and tried to read, but the emotions of loss and regret were too much for him to take. The book was closed before tears had the chance to ruin the pages, and Reid found himself holding the grave maker with his arms and sobbing onto the stone.

I should have protected you. I should have told you I loved you instead of telling you a lie. I should have… All was silent as Reid's tears flowed onto the grave of his beloved. His heart seeped with regret. How could I have not saved her? I don't understand. Slowly the insanity of grief ceased, and Reid was able to rise unsteadily on his feet. His swollen eyes darted around the landscape, grateful that his cries were no longer audible in the atmosphere. His eyes squinted from the sunlight and he saw something he had not noticed before in the times he had been there graced his eyes.