A/N: Heh, another story! In all honesty I have no idea where this lil' one came from. The idea popped into my head after I heard about the events in the first two episodes of season six. (winces) I still can't believe they fired A.J Cook!
WARNINGS: A mild spoiler, I guess, to season six. Although I've twisted things around quite a bit. (sweatdrops) Some mentions of self-harm.
DISCLAIMER: (sighs) If I did own ANYTHING about 'CM'… Well, let's say I'd throw in several lil' twists. And A.J Cook would still be a member of cast.
SONG SUGGESTION: 'Flowers for a ghost' from Thriving Ivory fits this fic pretty well. And it's, in my opinion, a VERY good song, too!
Awkay, since I'll have to stop stalling at some point… (swallows) Let's go, no? I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the ride.
Flowers for a Ghost
Dr. Spencer Reid was only dimly aware of the fact that it was raining as he sat on a long, wooden bench. His whole body was shaking with cold, exhaustion and hunger, but he didn't notice any of that. All that registered to him were the beautiful white roses that were blooming triumphantly only ten steps ahead of him. He blinked his half-open eyes once, slowly. "Did you know that Ancient Romans believed that white roses grew where the tears of Venus fell when she was mourning Adonis?" His voice sounded raspy and thin from lack of use.
Jennifer Jareau, who'd been sitting silently beside him until then, smiled. "No, I didn't." She tilted her head slightly, appearing thoughtful. "You're stalling, you know?"
He took a deep breath, feeling weight gathering into his stomach. Finally he noticed the cold, and his shivering intensified. "You'll be gone. I… I get that, okay? This isn't exactly the first time I lose someone I care about."
He regretted his harsh tone when he saw JJ shudder as though she'd been punched. She might've even winced a little. "It's not like this is my own choice, Spence."
Spencer breathed, calming down a little although the pain inside didn't go anywhere. "I know. I just…" He swallowed thickly and looked upwards for a moment, getting his eyes full of rain and salt. "I wish I could come with you."
JJ's smile was sad and frail, and he couldn't help wondering if she was crying. Her hand slid towards his on the bench, but she didn't touch. "The team needs you here. They need you much more than I do."
He frowned, his hand twitching with desire to at least brush hers. "What about you?"
This time JJ's smile was a lot warmer, although the grief still lingered. He could've sworn she was shaking. "I'll be just fine, okay? Everything's going to work out, for all of us." Her fingertips came dangerously close to caressing the long, deep scars on his wrist. A electrified shudder lingered in the air between and around them. "So… You have to stop doing this, Spence." She lifted her gaze surprisingly bravely to meet his equally scarred face – these days she was the only one who dared to look at his face, and he knew he'd miss it from the bottom of his heart. "And you have to start eating and sleeping again. Please. For me."
He gave her a thin, wry smile. The need to touch her was so strong he could barely take it. "You know it's not that easy. Because…" He licked his lips, his aching hands squirming with discomfort. "Because to do that I'd… I'd have to get you out of my head, completely. And I… I just can't do that, JJ. I can't."
JJ emitted a choked sound he couldn't quite identify. "One day you will. I know you – you're stronger than you think." With that she got up slowly and began to walk away with reluctance he could feel.
This was always the worst part. Always.
"Hey, JJ?" He barely recognized his voice. He swallowed thickly, but didn't manage to get rid of the rotten taste in his mouth. "Will… He doesn't have to know about us, okay? Ever. And neither does Henry."
He wouldn't have needed his eidetic memory to form a solid and everlasting mental image of the incredible smile that appeared to JJ's face.
"Spencer?" The soft female-voice startled him so badly that he almost jumped. Glancing to side he found a young, petite woman with short, burgundy-dyed hair and warm brown eyes. On her she had the blue west of the hospital's nurse. The sticker on the vest and a brief flash in his memory said her name was Shawna. "Let's go back inside before you get yourself a cold, okay?"
He nodded although he wouldn't have really wanted to go, and didn't resist when Shawna helped him up. Just before they entered he stopped once more and glanced over his shoulder, towards the white roses that were now abandoned into the rain.
He'd planted those flowers a month ago, after a paticularly difficult night. At that moment he decided that he hated flowers.
From the second floor of Riverside Hospital a pair of extremely sad eyes observed the ghost Spencer had become. Much too easily they registered the dangerous loss of weight, the absolute loss of color on the man's face which now had several scars on them and the bandages that'd been wrapped around the brunet's wrists. The most horrible part, however, were Spencer's eyes. Before they'd been alive and always full of emotions, absolutely incapable of hiding anything. Now they were hollow, empty. It was like the soul behind them had been stolen away.
Jason Gideon could easily tell when that had happened – he'd seen it on the tapes of a surveillance camera. He didn't know what Spencer and JJ had been doing in that small, extremely intimate restaurant four months ago. But he'd seen on the tape how they approached their cars and almost entered – without exchanging words or any gestures – until a bald, scarred young man showed up, carrying a gun. Before either of the two could do a thing the man shot four bullets into JJ, killing her in an instant. That alone had been excruciatingly painful to watch. But it was even harder to look at how Spencer did nothing to protect himself when the stranger used the last two bullets of his six-shooter on the young genius before taking JJ's car and speeding away. Jason had a feeling that although the medics had miraculously managed to save Spencer's life a huge part of the younger man died that day. Based on the psychological evaluations he'd managed to get a hold of Jason got a fairly good, chilling picture of what happened next. Eating became impossible for Spencer immediately, and the young man also found himself becoming even more accident prone than usual – which could be seen even on the field. It was like he didn't care what happened to him. A couple of weeks later Spencer also claimed that sometimes he could hear JJ's voice. At times he was almost sure he even saw the woman. Overwhelmed by their own grief, the rest of team failed to notice what their youngest was going through. That was until one dark day, when the team had received a report that JJ had been five weeks pregnant the day she died. That day Spencer took an overdose on the sleeping pills doctor had prescribed him and slit his wrists for the first time. After that Strauss didn't hesitate. Without even speaking with the team or Spencer she had the young man sent into a hospital. The team, especially Derek Morgan, visited Spencer at first. But then guilt or perhaps something else took over and they withdrew from their youngest. Only Hotch came anymore, every other Saturday.
Not that Jason would've been in the place to judge anyone on how they treated Spencer.
Swallowing thickly Jason observed as the nurse led Spencer inside. A second or two before they entered the brunet lifted his gaze, and for a moment he could've sworn the man saw him. But then the moment was over and Spencer was gone.
"Mr. Gideon?" Turning his gaze he saw a young, at the moment surprised looking male doctor with long dark hair pulled to a ponytail and sharp blue eyes – Ryan Kincaid – approaching him. "I… didn't expect you to come all the way here."
Jason looked outside once more although Spencer wasn't there anymore. He took a deep breath. "I had to come, to see him for myself." He didn't know why Spencer did so after how he'd disappeared from the younger man's life, but the brunet had kept him as his second emergency contact. For the past two and a half months, since the fateful day when Spencer was first admitted, Dr. Kincaid had called him from time to time and given him updates on the young genius' condition. And Jason tried to visit whenever he could. He'd jumped into a plane as soon as Dr. Kincaid had called that morning, saying that Spencer's condition had crashed.
Dr. Kincaid also breathed in deep. "He slit both his wrists – it's a miracle he didn't cause enough damage to make it impossible for us to help him. And… He's still not eating. He also refuses to take any medication." The man shook his head, appearing almost disheartened. "Mr. Gideon, we don't know how long we'll be able to keep him here if he wants to go so badly. He… may need harder help than we can give."
Not knowing what to say to that Jason nodded and kept staring outside.
The silence stretched so long that he was surprised when Dr. Kincaid spoke. "I'm curious… Why don't you go and see him when you visit so often?"
The sound that erupted from Jason's throat was sad and bitter. "Trust me, at this point seeing me is the last thing he needs."
For some reason Jason's eyes locked to the white roses blooming outside. At that moment he decided that he hated flowers.
'A question that sometimes drives me hazy: am I or are the others crazy?'
(Albert Einstein)
End.
A/N: It seems happy stories keep avoiding me, ne? (winces) Poor Spencer!
So… (gulps, glancing around warily) Was that any good, at all – or should I take this down immediately?
GAH, I'm in a bit hurry right now! (groans) PLEASE, leave a review before taking off. It'd mean A LOT to me! (gives puppy's eyes)
Thank you so much for reading this!
Take care!