After he left we found his scrapbook, you know. It was kind of surprising to see all the things he had kept over the years.
Even now I realize I didn't really know him. I thought we had a parental relationship, that we told each other everything. I know that isn't the case now though. If we had told each other everything I would have known he was struggling as bad as he was.
Maybe I saw the signs and completely missed them.
I hope not though, because that would mean that it's my fault that he's gone.
And I couldn't live with that kind of guilt hanging over my head. I don't want the feeling of his life on my hands.
He addressed that final letter to me. iMe./i Why would he do something idiotic like that? Not that I'm not happy that he was thinking about me in the hours before but a letter doesn't change the fact that he left me. It doesn't change the fact that all I want to do is cry.
But I can't.
I'm at work and crying at work is bad.
(Or at least that's what people always tell me.)
But that doesn't prevent me from staring at my desk. People walk around me in slow motion and even the cup of coffee that suddenly appears on my desk doesn't faze me.
My friends try to get me to eat but that's a chore. I can't even find the strength within me to pick up my fork.
They sigh and walk off.
Once again leaving me alone.
That's okay though.
People have always left me.
So why should the patteren change now?
An hour later (was it really an hour? Time seems to have lost all meaning to me) they return, this time they brought the big guns in.
And she sat and told me in that no nonsense tone of voice of hers that I was going to eat by myself or she could feed me herself. Somehow I managed to find the strength to feed myself. Because she would force food me and I'd rather not go through an experience like that ever again.
One of them drives me home. I can hear them whispering around me- about me- but I don't find it within myself to care.
He opens the car door and ushers me into the apartment where he helps me strip down, put on my pajamas and puts me to bed.
And he sat in the chair by my bed all night, keeping the nightmares at bay. He sat and talked me through things when I couldn't sleep.
He told me it wasn't my fault that he's gone. It was his choice and nothing I could have said would have changed his mind.
I showed him the letter .
And he read it.
Every heart breaking word of it.
It was quiet in my room for a long time. And then he told me that the letter changed nothing. It still wasn't my duty to watch his feelings 24/7.
He told me that everyone who works with me loves me. They get annoyed with me, yes, but they love me anyways. None of them blame me.
None of them blame me.
But I do.
hr
bSix and a half years later/b
"Reid!"
I jerk around the corner that separates the coffee machine from my desk.
Morgan smirks at me. "Your phone's ringing!" and than he laughs at me in amusement (and slight pity?) as I try to run while carrying the hot cup of coffee.
"Hello?" I wince- I sounded winded to my own ears.
There's a long pause of silence and I seriously contemplate hanging up the phone but they finally answer.
"Spencer?"
I drop the phone and everyone's head turns in my direction. Morgan is walking towards me in concern. But, as big of a shock as it is, I can still manage to pull myself together.
So I do.
"Jason."
And everyone's looking as shocked as I am. But I can't worry about them right now.
"Spencer." And I can tell just from his voice that he's smiling. And he's relieved that I haven't hung up the phone (yet). "I've been trying to reach you for a week now."
I automatically shift into my protective mode. "We've worked on a case for the last two." I tell him, my voice not quiet cold but not exactly welcoming either.
His sigh reached me and it was such a familiar sound that the first tear fell. And was quickly joined by another. And another until I couldn't tell when the new ones where falling and the old ones where drying.
"Son," he began, "I'm going to be in town next week for Stephen's wedding and I was hoping we could have lunch?"
My first response was to say no- just like Morgan (who had put it into speaker phone the moment after I said Jason's name) and Emily where. But I couldn't.
In the last five and a half years I had moved on in my life. I've gotten married and I have fur beautiful little girls, and a little boy and twin boys on the way. I was named godfather to two amazing children- JJ's son, Henry and Morgan and Emily's daughter, Abbi, and on top of all of that I've learned how to stand up for myself.
Not only that, but I know I this time I won't be alone. Morgan and Emily and my beautiful wife Cassie and my four girls Alandra, Nastasia, Victoria and Andria and my son William "Liam" will be standing beside me when I face him. Since he left, they haven't left me alone.
And after I got married Emily and Morgan where over at my house, just checking in. Morgan did routine drug tests through out the house the first year of my marriage (I had to tell Cassie why, but she loves me enough to understand that I'm not who I was.) And I'm proud to say that I've been drug free for four and a half years. Morgan and Emily have both stood by me, JJ named me godfather to her kid, Garcia asked me to stand with her at her wedding (behind Morgan but I was asked to stand with her anyways!), Hotch is Uncle Aaron to my kids and Rossi is grandpa. I know, no matter the outcome of this, my true family has my back.
Unlike Gideon and unlike my father.
But that doesn't mean I'm not willing to give him a second chance….
So I tell him, sincerely, "I would love to get lunch."
He laughs. "Good. So tell me, how's the last six years treated you, Spencer?"
I lean back in my chair with a smile. "Well, I'm married now to the most amazing woman in the world, Cassie. And I have five kids with a set of twins on the way, so the Reid effect is no more…"
End
