When they arrived at the hospital, they brought Spencer to an exam room. Derek tried running in after them, but was immediately stopped by a nurse.

"You can't go back there, sir."

He raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Are you family?"

He sighed. "He doesn't have any family. He's alone out here and needs somebody back there with him."

"I'm going to need you to stay in the waiting room. Someone will come get you once he's stabilized."

He groaned, walking to a nearby bathroom and washing his hands. He hadn't noticed just how much blood he'd gotten on him. At this point, he couldn't find it in him to care, so long as Spencer was going to survive. He scrubbed for five minutes before his hands were free of the crimson color, and he walked out to the waiting room, sitting down and resting his head in his hands. He didn't mind the blood all over his clothing, he just wanted confirmation that Spencer was okay, mentally and physically.

He sat there, keeping to himself, trying not to let everything get to him. He snapped out of it when he heard a hand slamming on the front desk repeatedly.

"Hello? Somebody?" JJ pleaded, hitting her hand on the desk again.

One of the nurses looked up at her. "Yes?"

She exhaled. "I'm here to see Spencer Reid, I'm his sister. Where is he?"

The nurse sighed. "The doctor's checking him over now. I'll let you know when you can go back there."

JJ groaned. "That's not good enough! I need to see him."

Emily bit down on her lip, wrapping her arms around JJ. She thanked the nurse and walked her over to a chair, sitting her down.
Hotch scanned the room and saw Derek, eyes closed in silent prayer. He walked over and sat beside him, wrapping an arm around him and squeezing his shoulder.

Derek sighed, blinking and looking up at him. Hotch could see he was on the brink of tears, if he hadn't already been crying. He couldn't comment, because the rest of the team was just as worried.

Hotch chose his words carefully. "Is he okay?"

He contemplated the question. If he means is Spencer alive, then yes, he's okay. But if he means okay as in actually okay? Definitely not.

He bit his lip, unable to look at his superior in the eye. He collected himself. "He tried to kill himself," he mumbled, putting his hands over his face and leaning back in the chair.

Everyone noticed the blood all over him, but didn't know how to approach asking.

Garcia gasped. "Derek, what happened?"

He sighed again, mentally preparing himself to tell the story. He watched as the rest of the team gathered around, just as curious.

"Nobody had heard from him for a few days, so I decided to go check up on him. He hadn't grabbed his paper since he got home on Friday, and none of his neighbors had seen him, so I expected the worst. He didn't answer, so I kicked the door down and I looked around the apartment. It- it was a total mess. Not what you'd expect from neat freak Spencer. There were books and clothes everywhere, his bed wasn't made, his sink was full of dirty dishes… very uncharacteristic. He wasn't anywhere that I could see, and the bathroom door was closed," he quickly swallowed the lump growing in his throat and fought back tears, "so I busted the door down and… there he was. He um," he cleared his throat, "sorry, he was in his bathtub, and he'd gashed open his wrist. He wasn't responsive, but he was still alive, so I got him out, put pressure on his wrist, and I called Garcia. EMT said if I'd gotten there a few minutes later, he wouldn't have made it."

He wanted to look up and see their reactions, but he couldn't. He kept his focus on a tile on the floor, positive he knew what they would be. Hotch and Rossi would do their best to stay strong for the team, though it'd be eating them up inside. Garcia would be crying, and he hated to see her upset for any reason. JJ would be shaking and focusing on something in the distance, and Emily would attempt to talk to JJ, holding back he own tears.

He bit down on his lip. "What did we do wrong, Hotch?" he asked softly, looking down at his lap. "We're profilers, we should've seen the signs of this. We don't deserve our jobs if we couldn't even see that one of our own was so upset he was ready to take his own life."

Hotch, for the first time in as long as he'd known him, had no immediate answer. All he could do was rub his back reassuringly. "We have to remember that he's a profiler too. As great as we are at detecting problems and emotions? We're just as good at hiding them from the world." Derek felt a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder. "We just all need to be there for him. When he comes out of this, we can't accuse him or constantly berate him, asking him why. He needs to know he has a support system in place for himself, and we need to be that, understood?"

He looked around at the team, who all nodded in silent agreement. Now, they had to play the godawful waiting game.

Derek looked over at his superior, and for the first time in a long time, saw his emotions written on his face. He was visibly upset, something he never let the team see. He was lost in his own mind, and Derek knew exactly what was going on: he was wondering why this happened, and how he could've prevented it. Wondering if maybe, he'd listened to him once in a while or asked him what was going on, if they'd still be in that waiting room.

The silence of their group was broken by JJ. "Was there a note?" she whispered, eyes still closed.

Derek looked over at her – he hadn't thought to look for one, his priority was Spencer's survival. "I…I didn't check," he admitted, reaching over and grabbing her hand, squeezing it. "But we don't need to know if there was. He's going to walk out of here and it doesn't matter what he put into a note."

She shoved his hand away, disgusted. "Yes, it does. Obviously something was going on in his head that was so bad he felt the need to take his life. If he put it into words, I think we deserve to know what he had to say.

He sighed, not wanting to admit she was right. Finally, Rossi spoke up. "I'll check his apartment, maybe clean up the mess while I'm there. What's his address?"

"412 Washington Street, Apartment 23," Garcia spoke up, focusing on a tile on the floor, her chin in her hand.

Derek heard Hotch and Rossi talking, but tuned it on, his mind in another place.

One of the nurses came out, holding out a pair of scrubs to Derek. He tried refusing them, but Garcia sighed. "Sweetie, sitting here covered in his blood isn't going to help you any."

He swallowed, giving the nurse a quick thank you and walking to one of the bathrooms. He quickly changed into them and looked at himself in the mirror. His mind was still nagging him, telling him how much he could've prevented this. Before he could let them fall, he wiped the tears away, shaking his head. Sitting here crying about it wasn't going to do anything for any of them. He buried his head in his hands, groaning, before walking back out to the living room and taking his seat again.

Time seemed to be going backwards until Hotch got a phone call, presumably from Rossi. He listened in as Hotch kept the conversation short and attempted to keep his language undetectable. The conversation and Derek turned his head to face him. He saw his superior, the man who was always strong, starting to break down. He turned his face back to the ground and sighed, closing his eyes. Hopefully this was all just a really bad dream and he could wake up from it soon.

Rossi walked back in a while later, observing that everyone was still where they were sitting, lost in their own silence. He got Hotch's attention and he got up, walking over.

"You holding up okay?" Rossi asked, patting his arm.

He sighed. "I'm holding it together." He motioned toward the envelope. "Is that them?"

He lowered his voice, sure not to alert the rest of the team. "I don't think this is a good idea. With how JJ lost her sister? This could take her down a road we don't want to see. With Garcia having no family and Reid being her little brother? We could lose her fun bubbly personality. Not to mention Morgan, who had to find him that way. How's he going to take this?"

Hotch looked at his elder. "I understand that, but people deal with things differently. We need to at least give them the option to see what he has to say."

Rossi handed him the envelope, tucking his own note into his jacket pocket, hoping to ignore it.

Hotch sighed, walking over and sitting with his team. JJ noticed the envelope out of the corner of her eye and sighed. "He did?"

He nodded, opening the envelope and pulling out five separate envelopes. "One for everyone on the team."

Garcia's head snapped up and she gasped. "You mean he already said goodbye?"

Derek exhaled, looking around at the team. "Do we read them?"

JJ didn't wait for a response, ripping the envelope with her name on it out of his hands. She stared at it for a moment before getting up from her seat, walking to the opposite side of the waiting room and taking a seat, curling up and ripping the envelope open.

The rest of the team kept an eye on her as she read, taking notice of her reactions. Once she finished, she closed the letter, biting down on her lip and sniffling. Morgan saw the same look he'd been wearing since he arrived at Spencer's apartment: one that said 'if I had only done 'x', we wouldn't be here'. The tears fell and Garcia sighed, looking down at her own envelope. Derek observed that he'd called her 'Penelope' instead of Garcia. Before he could say anything reassuring to her, she took a deep breath, opening the envelope and taking out the letter. She wasn't sure she wanted to do this after seeing JJ's reaction, but knew that something in her said she had to. Once she finished, she was numb. She didn't start crying or show any of the emotions she was feeling. She sat there, frozen, unsure of how to react and stuffing the note into her purse.

Derek scanned the room and saw that Emily was next. He watched as she read the letter, seeing her face slowly sink and contemplating even reading his own. Hotch avoided reading his letter, and Derek knew it was to stay strong for everyone on the team, while Rossi didn't care to read it, not wanting to see Spencer as a victim. They had enough of that on the job and he didn't need to look at someone who was practically family like that.

He battled with himself for a while to make the decision to read the letter. He cared about Spencer more than anyone else on the team, which was something he wouldn't openly admit. He was like the younger brother he'd never had, and still couldn't wrap his head around why he would do this to himself. He finally made the decision, opening the envelope and pulling the letter out. He read it, taking in every single word.

Derek,

Somehow I knew you'd be the one to find me. First, I want to apologize for that. I never wanted to hurt you or make you upset. I just needed a quick and easy way to get away from it all. I couldn't handle being everybody's afterthought anymore, and I promise you, I'm sincerely sorry you had to find me this way. I've felt like this for a while, and I promise, there's nothing you could've done or said to change my mind.

The first thing I want to do is thank you for taking me under your wing. Though you teased me, you made me feel welcome at the BAU, and made me feel as if I was always protected. You were there for me after Hankel, and after the Anthrax scare. You were the one member of the team who seemed to give a damn about me, and would always talk to me when I needed it. I'm sorry it wasn't enough, but I want to specify that this wasn't your fault. It's all mine, and please, don't blame yourself.

I want to ask a favor, though I know it's ridiculous to do so after what I've put you through. In my apartment is all of the information for my savings account. I want you to send all the money to Bennington, to keep my mother safe. I also have a letter that needs to be sent to her, if I really did succeed. It's in the top drawer in my bedroom, already stamped and addressed. Please send it to her. She needs to know why I did this.

To be completely honest, I wanted a much quicker way. I wish I'd used my gun – the unsubs have made it look so easy. At the pull of a trigger, it would've been over. I didn't have it in me, and I couldn't have done that to you. I'd much rather you find me this way.

If I somehow do make it through this, I don't want the team to pity me, and I don't want to be treated like a victim. I hope you can all continue as you have been, and just ignore me as you always have. My emotions and thoughts have always taken a backseat, and I hope that continues. I don't want anyone to dote over me or worry over my well-being. There are much more important things to worry about in your own lives.

Thank you for everything, especially being the older brother I never had.

Spencer

He closed the letter, exhaling, swallowing the lump that had grown in his throat and blinking back tears. He shot up from his seat, pacing the waiting room, sighing and running a hand over his scalp.

"Morgan," Hotch started, unsure of what to say to console him, but knowing he needed something.

He shook his head. "He'd been contemplating this for years, Hotch. Years. And you're telling me a team of profilers didn't see a single thing wrong? I don't care how good he is at hiding his emotions. One of us should've noticed that something was up with him and he wasn't right in the head. We should all turn in our credentials right now for sucking at our jobs that much."

Hotch rubbed his arm. "I understand you're upset-"

He mock laughed. "Upset? He wrote individual suicide letters, saying goodbye to every single member of this team. I had to find him a bloody fucking mess in his bathtub. I had to be sure he didn't succeed. I had to ride along in that ambulance and be sure he didn't die back there. I think it's safe to say I'm a little more than upset."

The rest of the team looked around at each other, confused. Never before had Derek displayed his emotions in front of them. Instead, he kept them locked up inside and was strong for everybody else.

Hotch rose from his seat, and with no words, wrapped his arms around Derek. He sighed, rubbing his back. "It's okay to let it out, Derek. You're upset, and you're allowed to be."

Derek bent down, resting his head on Hotch's shoulder, and finally started crying. He wished he'd been able to read Spencer's emotions and prevent this from ever happening.

"I failed him," he choked out, sniffling. "We all failed him. We should've done something. Anything at all. And we didn't."

Hotch rubbed his back, closing his own eyes and sighing. "I know, Morgan. We all do."

The rest of the team sat in their seats, watching their current and former acting unit chief slowly break down.