Disclaimer: see my profile

A/n we won't see as much canon in future chapters, because I'm accelerating the time frame for the teams confrontation with The Replicator. Thank you all again for reviewing, following and favoriting this story.

The morning after Strauss told the team to step back from the Replicator case and move on, began as it always did. Maeve followed Spencer to get coffee and then on the train to work. JJ was in the bullpen when they entered.

"Hey, Spence, did you get some sleep?"

"Yes," she listened to him lie.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes…" He lied again.

"I need everyone in the conference room now," Hotch called down to them.

Maeve listened intently to the briefing, because that was all she could do. They couldn't hear her and her attempts to move objects failed unless she was highly emotional. These days she couldn't work up the energy to be angry.

"I wish there were some other way to get through to you."

She sat next to Spencer on the bench as they flew toward their next case. She watched him peruse his file. After a minute, he glanced up, but no one was looking at him. She saw him close his eyes and take in a deep breath. He whispered under his breath, something she'd heard him say ever since he'd gone back to BCC.

"One minute at a time."

She smiled and laid her hand over his right arm. "I'm here and I'm not going away until I finish what I have to do."

CMCMCMCM

She stood halfway between the man that had a knife to his own throat, and Spencer. Morgan dove into the pool and pulled the girl out of harm's way. JJ and Spencer pointed guns at Peter as Morgan started CPR. JJ tried to talk Peter down, but Spencer broke in.

Maeve froze as something in his face changed as he talked. He said, "This is the part where I'm supposed to lie to you and tell you that everything will be okay and that we can somehow help you but… The fact of the matter is, Peter I don't know if we can. There might not be any form of therapy that takes these urges away, but that doesn't mean you stop trying."

JJ said, "Spence, what are you doing?"

Maeve ignored her and kept her eyes on the man called Peter and watched his face as he listened to Spencer.

"Peter, no matter what happens, you have to keep trying. I know it's not what you want to hear, but at least it's the truth."

Again, time seemed to stop as Peter lowered the knife a bit and seemed to consider Spencer's words.

"Please," Maeve pleaded. "Just listen to him. He only wants to help you."

"I appreciated your honesty," Peter, then he raised the knife and slit his own throat.

Maeve turned away in horror, as he fell into the pool and his blood turned the water scarlet.

"Wait," she called out to Spencer as he hung his head and strode out of the pool area.

She glided behind him as he hurried out of the building and climbed into the back of one black SUV. She slipped in next to him and watched at he stared out the window. His hands clasped together so hard, his knuckles went white.

"I know what you're thinking. You're going over every syllable you said to that poor man. It's not your fault."

"Yes it is."

She flinched and passed through the side panel of the truck and back into the night. She returned to his side, but he sat with his face in his hands.

"You did what you thought was best and…"

"Spence."

Maeve whirled around when JJ climbed into the truck. "Get out of here," she spat at the blonde. "Whatever you have to say he doesn't need to hear it."

"Hey, what were you thinking in there."

He looked up at her and Maeve flinched again. There was nothing in his eyes but unshed tears of frustration and anger. "Leave me alone, JJ."

"I just want to know -"

"No, you want to lecture me. Well, I think I'll pass."

He got out of the SUV and walked back to the building. He swiped hurriedly at his eyes as the EMTs brought the girl out of the building. He watched them take her away. Morgan strode out behind them.

"Hey kid, let's go wrap this up."

CMCMCM

Maeve gave up trying to talk to him as he packed his bag to leave for the night. When Hotch approached him and began to question him about what he'd done in the pool area, she began to bristle.

"Leave him alone," she hissed. "Can't you see he's hurting?"

When Hotch said, "To me this is very clearly about Maeve," she shouted back at him.

"Back off! What do you know about it? Where were you when he faced Dianne alone?"

She wanted to say more, but Spencer left without speaking and she had to follow him.

"I'm going to figure out how to break away from following Spencer around, and when I do I'm going to give you a piece of my mind."

CMCMCMCM

When they returned to the apartment, Spencer put his bag, coat and scarf away. Instead, of making something to eat, as she wanted him to, he went to his keyboard. She'd only heard him play a couple of times. This time he played something that was familiar to her, that she hadn't heard for a long time, but she couldn't remember the name of the piece. It was slow and melancholy and suited his mood, but not her frame of mind.

She drifted to the bookcase and began to try to move a book. As always, it didn't work for a while, and then his copy of John Smith's Narrative began to inch back from its fellow tomes and toward the edge of the shelf.

"Just a little more."

Excitement and happiness poured into her like sand through her fingers at the beach. Then she popped away just as if someone had grabbed her and yanked her out of the path of an oncoming truck.

She blinked and found that she was back in that little room with the man called the Replicator.

"You again… Why do I come here, but I can't go anywhere else?"

The man ignored her as he worked on his computer. She hovered behind him and saw that he was writing something. It looked like a story.

She walked through the darkness as if she owned it. Stupid Bitch, she should have known better than to walk alone in this part of town. He'd show her. She'd learn her lesson, but by the time she learned it, it would be too late. He chuckled quietly to himself and stepped around the corner to confront her. It was going to be so delicious.

"What are you doing?"

He stopped as if he heard her and she glided back in shock. He saved the file in his computer and she moved forward again. He looked over at what she saw were new photos of the team on the wall. "Tedious," he said and it was the first time she'd heard him speak. "Why write it when you can just live it?"

He laughed and if she'd still had hair on the back of her neck, it would be rising, she knew.

"Still, we have to make it authentic, or it's not real."

He stood up, stretched and she drifted around him. "I'm going to find out who you are."

Suddenly, that invisible force sucked her back into Spencer's apartment. He was still playing his keyboard, but had switched to another song. She looked at the clock and saw that thirty minutes had passed.

What was going on? Why couldn't she do that whenever she wanted to?

CMCMCMCM

The next day at work, no one said anything to Spencer about what happened. She wondered if Hotch had said something to them. She noticed that JJ watched Spencer with speculative eyes. Maeve did the only thing she could do. She stuck her tongue out at JJ and immediately felt better despite the childishness of the reaction.

Spencer picked up a file and went to the stairs. She followed him all the way to Garcia's office. She smiled when Garcia told her sweet cheeks to enter.

"Hey there, handsome, what can I do for you?"

"You're not going to try and lecture me about yesterday?"

Maeve almost applauded when Garcia said. "No, why should I? I know you were just trying to do what you thought was best. I'm just concerned about you. How are you?"

He sat down and Maeve hovered near him as always. "I'm fine. I'm just tired."

"Are you sleeping?"

"No, he's not," Maeve, said.

"Not really. I just…"

"You just lost the love of your life." Garcia patted his knee. "It's going to get better."

"Everyone says that, but I don't know if I believe it."

Maeve swept her eyes over the desk as they talked, and then she froze. She couldn't move or speak, not even when Spencer stood up. She didn't hear him ask Garcia for help on a case or see him start for the door. All she could do was stare at a photograph on Garcia's desk and at the face of the Replicator.