Author's Note: Follow-up piece to 'One Song Away', this one from Spencer's perspective. Takes place during 'Lauren' and the rest of season 6. As always, I own absolutely nothing in the Criminal Minds universe.
You see her when you close your eyes, maybe one day you'll understand why everything you touch surely dies.
- Let Her Go, Passenger
Spencer saw Emily's odd behavior and knew he should've said something. It had started after she met with her friend Sean McCallister, and only seemed to get worse as time went on. Every time he tried to bring it up or talk to her about it, she'd insist that it was nothing and change the subject. When she had taken off on the team, he had never been so nervous before in his life. He thought since they were a couple, they'd be able to confide in each other about anything. Unfortunately, he was proven wrong by her phone and badge in her desk. All he could do was wonder what he'd done wrong, to make her feel like she couldn't talk to him. Part of him wondered if Rossi and Morgan were going to profile that she'd had a boyfriend, and in turn, profiled him, but the other part of him was far too concerned about Emily's well-being. Much like the rest of the team, he had no idea where she could be or what she was doing, and he found that more disheartening than aggravating. He knew that he had to keep his mind on the case, but he couldn't help but think and worry about her.
All he heard about the takedown was that Derek had found Emily in the basement and she was going to the hospital in an ambulance. It took him no time at all to get to the hospital. He found Derek sitting in one of the waiting rooms and immediately sat down in one of the chairs. Sitting in that waiting room felt surreal: he was waiting for Emily to walk through those doors any minute and sit beside him, taking his hand and squeezing it, assuring him that she was fine. Based on what he had overheard from Hotch and Derek, she was far from that, but he had to have hope that she would pull through and he'd see her soon. They'd both suffered plenty of on-the-job injuries and came out fine, so she had to do it this time too. He tried drinking coffee, he tried pacing, he tried reading magazines: nothing was helping to pass the time. JJ kept going back to talk to attempt to talk to her doctors, and everytime she came back without an answer it was more and more frustrating.
JJ came in yet again with her hands by her side, and everyone's attention shifted up to her, sitting up straight. She gave an uncomfortable smile and right then, he knew: he wasn't going to see her again. She was gone and she wasn't coming back. No more movie nights, no more date nights, no more cuddling, no more talking for hours and not even noticing the time. Nothing. He couldn't feel, he couldn't think, and he was completely numb. His mind went into overdrive and he had to get out of there. He couldn't sit here anymore and dwell on it. He had to leave.
He barely heard JJ's statement of "She never made it off the table" before he was shooting out of his chair and heading for the nearest exit.
"Spence," she said softly, putting a hand up to stop him.
He couldn't speak, he just had to get out of there, but he knew she wouldn't let him go without an answer. "...I didn't have a chance to say goodbye," he said, only looking at her once before focusing on the ground in front of him.
She rested a hand on his shoulder, sighing. "Come here," was all the warning given before she pulled him into her arms, hugging him and rubbing his back.
He didn't have it in him to hold it in anymore: he wrapped his arms around her middle and rested his chin on her shoulder, crying. Emily was gone: their Emily, his Emily. It wasn't like when Gideon or Elle left, no, this time it was permanent. She didn't just do something she regretted and take off. No, instead she was completely gone, and she wasn't coming back. He felt his body shake with every sob he let out, and he knew he wouldn't get them under control any time soon. He didn't care how his reaction would seem to anyone else: he was hurt and he had the right to be upset.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been crying when JJ had let go of him, but when she did, his knees buckled and he fell to the floor, burying his head in his hands. This wasn't happening. It was a bad dream. It was one of his nightmares after taking his migraine medication, and sure enough, he'd wake up next to Emily and wrap his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair. Once he was all cried out, he looked around at his team, studied their faces, to confirm that he'd heard correctly and hadn't simply overreacted. Seeing that they were all just as upset and broken up, he knew he'd eventually have to come to the realization that she was gone.
The few days leading up to her funeral back in Quantico, he didn't go to work, and he didn't even have it in him to leave his apartment. The one time he did, he couldn't stand the silence anymore. Everywhere he looked was a memory of Emily, and he had to get away. He tried to drink the pain away, but it didn't work and only made realizing the truth more awful. When he was getting dressed for her funeral, he put on her favorite suit of his, and finished it off with his purple scarf. He knew it wasn't exactly funeral attire, but he remembered how much she loved it on him. She insisted on him wearing it on several of their outings, and he was never one to refuse.
To say her funeral was overwhelming was an extreme understatement. When he was told he'd be one of the pallbearers, he simply nodded and looked down at it, chewing on his cheek. He reached down, running his hand over the coffin. She was there. She wasn't standing with them and instead, she was lying in there. He would carry her over to her gravestone, with her name, date of birth, and date of death, and just sit back and watch as they lowered her into the ground, and nothing he could do would stop it. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat and fought back the tears, reaching down and grabbing the railing with the help of five others, picking up her coffin and walking. When it was set down, he watched as flowers were placed on top, and tried to listen as the priest spoke, but he was completely tuned out. Instead of watching the funeral play out, he stared down at his shoes, continuing to fight back the tears and hoping this was all some sort of cruel joke. When they stepped up one-by-one, placing red roses on her coffin, he knew this was actually it. This was going to be his goodbye to her, and that killed him inside. He stood beside JJ and glanced over at the tombstone before shaking his head, willing all of this to be over.
His mind tried to tell him 'at least this way you can visit her', but he knew that wasn't it. He couldn't just sit in front of this stone, on freshly laid dirt, and talk to it as if it was Emily. He couldn't bring flowers by on his days off, lay them down, and pretend that everything was okay. He couldn't just go into work the next day and push all of this aside, putting it in the past and moving on with his life. Emily was the first person he'd ever been in love with, and he knew this hurt wasn't going away anytime soon.
After the funeral, he didn't want to do anything. He wasn't sleeping at night: he couldn't be in his bed without thinking of Emily or smelling her scent on his pillows and in his sheets. When he would finally fall asleep, all his mind would think of was Emily. He tried sleeping on the couch, but that only brought back memories of their nights, curled up on his couch and watching movies. He didn't want to go to work, get the newspaper in the morning, and he didn't even want to get his morning coffee. Instead, he wanted to sit in the dark and just think. Unfortunately, Spencer Reid wasn't the type of person to sit around and wallow in his pity party. He had to go back to work and give himself something as a distraction.
While sitting at his desk, he lingered on her last words to him, and they stung every single time they'd pop up in his mind. "I love you, Spencer. I always have and I always will, I promise". It almost made him wonder if she knew she was going to die when she fled to Boston. He tried to keep his focus on his case file, but all he could do was notice the empty desk beside him and the new picture on the wall with the other fallen agents. It was staring at him, almost mocking him. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to get his work done with that picture always staring straight at his desk.
Rossi had come around to everyone's desks and told them about Seaver's graduation coming up. He was as miserable as he'd ever been and the team wanted to celebrate? Granted, graduating from the academy is a big deal, but he wasn't in much of a celebratory mood these days. Not to mention that he knew the void on the team would need to be filled, and the automatic assumption would be to give it to Seaver. He wasn't ready to replace Emily, because part of his mind didn't accept that she was gone. Part of his mind told him that they were all wrong and she'd walk through those doors any minute, apologizing for being late and stealing a kiss from Spencer when she had a moment to do so.
The first time Spencer showed up at JJ's house was the night before Seaver's graduation. He hadn't called first, so he could only hope that she'd be home. He took a deep breath before sighing, knocking on the door and waiting for a response. When the door opened and he saw JJ standing there, he was relieved, to say the least.
"Spence, I didn't know you were stopping by…"
He bit his lip. "I'm sorry, I-I know I didn't call first, but I was wondering if maybe we could talk?" he asked, burying his hands in his pockets.
"Yeah, of course." She stepped aside, holding the door open. "Will just took Henry to the park so I have the house to myself. Come on in."
He walked inside, chewing on his cheek. "If you wanted privacy, I can come back another time?"
She shook her head, placing a hand on his back and leading him to the living room. "Can I get you anything? Some tea, coffee?"
"I'm fine," he mumbled, sighing.
"The great Spencer Reid doesn't want any coffee?"
He shrugged. "Coffee isn't important anymore."
She looked at him with sad eyes before holding her arms open. "Come on."
"Excuse me?"
"You're holding way too much in right now, and it's not going to do you any good. Come here."
He looked at her hesitantly before leaning in, burying his head in her shoulder and crying again. He'd thought he had been out of tears after all of the crying he did in his apartment, but apparently, he could still surprise himself.
She sighed, rubbing his back. "It's okay, Spence," she whispered, rubbing his back, before reaching up and soothingly running a hand through his hair, "let it out. It's okay to be upset."
"You're not," he mumbled against her shoulder between sobs.
She sighed, and if Spencer were on top of his profiling game, he would've noticed it. "I'm all cried out," she lied. "You really miss her, don't you?"
"More than anything," he said softly. "It's just pain no matter what I do, JJ, and it doesn't go away and it won't stop."
She bit down on her cheek before exhaling. "I'm here, Spence, okay? Anytime you need me, I'm going to be here for you, I promise."
He nodded slightly and cried until all that was left in him were dry sobs. He pulled back, mumbling an apology.
"Don't," she insisted. "Everyone grieves differently."
He swallowed. "Everyone grieves differently, and yet I'm the only one who can't get my work done. I've read up on grieving, JJ, and most people can cry and be over it, but I can't-"
"That's not a bad thing. You're emotional and it's a lot to take when you lose somebody so close to you. Nobody can tell you how to grieve or adjust to her being gone, Spence. I promise."
He had stayed at her house for over an hour. He tried talking about it, but all that came out of him were sobs and phrases such as 'I don't know what to do' or 'I miss her all the time'. He didn't care that they could be taken as the two of them being a couple, or him just mourning over the loss of a friend. All he knew was that he was going to have a lot to get off of his chest, and he was grateful for JJ's invitation.
Unsurprisingly, he didn't sleep that night. After taking the train home, he sat awake in his apartment, on the couch and clinging to a pillow. He tried reading, he tried watching TV, and he tried just lying down and relaxing. None of it was working for him, because his brain just didn't have a shut off. Everything, no matter what it was, reminded him of Emily, and thoughts of her were constantly flooding him. Instead of sleeping, he opted to stay awake and just stare. It was all he could do, considering he was now all cried out. At one point, he reached for his phone, dialing but not really paying attention. Before he knew it, he heard the voicemail for Emily's cell phone and licked his lips, sighing. Calling Emily when he couldn't sleep at night when he was alone had become a habit, and unfortunately for him, he didn't think it was one he'd be able to break soon.
Seaver's graduation was the first time the team was really gathered since the funeral, and he was disgusted by that fact. They had gone from mourning the loss of one of their own, and now they were all supposed to be happy and celebrating? It was a ridiculous concept. He had joined the team while he was still at the academy, and the team wasn't forced to attend his graduation, so why did they all have to be there for her? He didn't care if he seemed selfish, it was true. It was as if the BAU didn't care about their fallen team member, and only worried about finding her replacement as soon as possible. Spencer spent the entire time in his seat, nervously playing with the program in his hands. Her name was called and the rest of the team clapped, but he couldn't seem to do more than clap his hands together once and stay seated. He didn't want to seem disrespectful, but he just didn't have it in him.
The next day at work, they were all told there was a case and they needed to meet in the BAU room as soon as they got in. Since he hadn't slept, Spencer was wide awake early in the morning and immediately went to work, situating himself at his seat in the room. He set his things down and looked across from him as, for the first time, Emily wouldn't fill the seat there. He tried not to let everything get the best of him and not show his emotions at work, so he opted to look down at the table and tap his fingers, waiting for everyone else to show up. At first, he wondered where everyone was, checking his watch every minute. When he looked out the window, he saw Garcia and Derek in front of Emily's picture. It took everything in him to contain himself and not get upset. Seaver was the next person to walk in the room, and he just gave her a nod before his focus went out the window again.
Garcia walked in a few minutes later with a tray of cupcakes and he did his best not to scoff or lash out at her. Yes, Seaver just graduated, and it was a big deal to her, but they already celebrated, and he wasn't quite ready for being overly inviting and happy for other people. He watched as Derek and Seaver both took one, but when the tray was offered to him, he shook his head, tapping his pen against the table. He knew he was more likely than not getting looks for it, but that didn't matter to him. When the briefing had started, his mind wandered. With the case, he wondered what Emily would contribute, and when Seaver would say something, he couldn't stop himself from thinking 'Emily wouldn't ask that' or 'shouldn't you already know that?'. Instead of speaking up and getting himself in trouble, he decided the better option was to keep it all inside and focus all of his attention on the case, hopefully giving himself enough of a distraction that his mind wouldn't always be on the same subject.
Spencer knew he couldn't hold a grudge against the team forever, even though part of him told him that if they'd worked a little harder, done a little more, or found out about Ian Doyle sooner, Emily would be on this plane with them right now. He was just as responsible as they were, and that was part of the reason he wasn't sleeping at night. His mind knew that he could've done something to change the situation and make it better. He knew that if he'd done 'x', Emily would still be there and he wouldn't be feeling this miserable. He'd be able to sleep at night and wouldn't be as miserable as he could ever remember being.
While they were on the jet, they discussed what they could, but Spencer would be lying if he said he was completely tuned in. He sat on the couch and looked through the case file, occasionally giving his input. On the case, he did his best to work to his full potential and make the team proud of him, but as soon as they implied that the unsub could possibly be schizophrenic, he was reminded of his headaches and his mind went into overdrive. He took a few of his pills he'd been given to treat his migraines and hoped it would go away. Not only did they have a stressful case after emotional trauma, but now they were bringing schizophrenia into the mix and he was extremely uncomfortable with everyone else's generalizations. When the profile was being given, he tuned out again, and he felt guilty for it. The way they were talking about the unsub didn't match traditional forms of schizophrenia, and it almost seemed like guess work and assumptions. It finally reached a point where he couldn't take anymore. He dismissed himself, shaking his head and walking to the bathroom to splash some water on his face and hopefully clear his head so he wouldn't lash out at the next person to make a conjecture about schizophrenics. He heard the door open after him and he sighed, shaking his head, not looking forward to whoever it was feeling a need to talk to him.
Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he realized it was Derek who had come in. Of everyone on the team, he hoped he could open up to him, because it's what he really needed. He wiped his face, sighing, reaching for a towel. "You know, that profile kind of makes it sound like schizophrenia leads to serial killing." He ripped out off of the roll, wiping his face.
"...That's not what we said at all, Reid."
He sniffed, crumpling up the towel in his hand. "You know, my mom has schizophrenia. There are many different types."
Derek nodded. "I know that."
He kept talking, as if Derek hadn't interrupted him. "Catatonic, disorganized - just because someone suffers from an inability to organize their thoughts, or they can't bathe or dress themselves," he wiped his hands, quickly facing Derek before leaning against the sink, "doesn't mean they'd stab someone in the chest 30 times postmortem."
"Reid, what's really going on?"
He hesitated, not sure if he was talking about the case or his personal life, so he decided to make it about work, considering they were on the job right now. He dared to look up at Derek again, hoping his oncoming rant would be enough to keep himself from getting upset again. "Our unsub's hallucinations aren't fractured like a typical schizophrenic. They're vivid and clear, leading me to believe that we're missing an important variable. Rather than making crazy conjectures, I think we should be trying to figure out what it is."
"Okay, listen to me. I know this is a scary age for you. It's when schizophrenic breaks happen. Have you talked to anybody about this?"
He chewed on his cheek before answering him softly. "Emily." He put plainly, before licking his lips and focusing on a tile on the floor.
"Have you seen a doctor?"
"They all say I'm fine."
"Then why don't you believe them?"
"Because predicting one's chances of developing a genetic condition are like finding a penny in an ocean." He exhaled, knowing that he could no longer hold everything in. "I have terrible headaches. I can't sleep at night. I can't focus on our cases. I only read 5 books last week." It was a silly thing to mention, considering how hurt he felt about everything, but he figured it would get his point across about how upset he really was.
"Come on, kid, you gotta cut yourself some slack. You're also depressed about Prentiss, and I get it— we all are. Reid, I miss her every day." Part of Spencer's mind told him to tell Derek 'not as much as I do', but luckily, he was able to stop himself and save himself an embarrassing moment. "But if your mind was splitting, do you really think you'd be able to figure out that this team is missing a variable?"
He bit on his cheek and swallowed. "I'm just speculating that we are. I need to prove it."
"Okay, then you do that. The moment you are wandering around the streets aimlessly, that's when I'll be concerned about you. Come on, Pretty Boy. Let's get to work." Spencer smiled slightly at the familiar nickname, not having heard it in quite some time.
He nodded slightly, following Derek out of the bathroom. Before making it back to the team, he tried to find his voice. "...Derek?"
Derek turned around to face him, cornering him in so nobody would see what they were talking about, and he definitely appreciated it. "What's up, kid?" he asked, keeping his voice low.
He licked his lips, thinking to himself how to best word it. "After we get home… I was wondering if maybe we could talk? I know we just did and if you can't or don't want to, I can call up JJ and spend some time with her, but I figured it might be a good idea for two of us to talk through it, and maybe that'll be what I need to finally be at peace with what happened." He knew there wouldn't be such a thing as 'at peace', but he needed the conversation to ground him.
Derek thought about it before nodding. "Yeah, no problem. My place or yours?"
Spencer shrugged. "Mine? You could give me a ride home from the airstrip and we could talk, unless you want to get home?"
"It's fine. Your place after we get home sounds great." He patted Spencer's arm before turning around, walking back to the team.
Spencer took a few minutes to collect himself, not wanting to bring everything he felt in the bathroom back to the team. He really did need to talk to someone, and Derek seemed like the best choice, considering he's the one that had found Emily and the two of them were definitely on similar levels of hurting over the situation. Though they did their best to keep their relationship a secret, Spencer didn't see the point in it being that way anymore, considering Emily wasn't coming back. If he was going to talk to Derek, he was going to put everything out on the table and not keep any secrets, because he needed to put it all out there to hopefully help himself come to terms. There was nothing the bureau could do to them now to stop them, so he was ready to tell someone.
Luckily, Spencer was able to get his head on straight just long enough to help with the case, though he still hadn't slept a full night. He would sleep for mere minutes before he'd be wide awake and need to do anything else. When they were getting on the jet, he told himself he'd sit on the couch and hopefully get some shut eye after they took off. What he hadn't expected was lying down after they were able to move freely, resting his bag under his head, and instantly falling he asleep. He could vaguely hear his teammates talking in the background, but soon tuned them out and slept through the flight, the longest sleep he'd had in quite some time. When he woke up nearly four hours later, he couldn't believe that he'd actually stayed asleep that long, though part of him understood why. His dreams gave him Emily, and not the gone Emily, but the Emily he knew and loved. His Emily. And that's exactly what he needed to keep him asleep.