Month Two; What the hell?

Final World Series; October 28, 2011

I sat in the dugout. We were 3 for 6. This game was the decider. The Brewers could win their first ever World Series. But rather be excited for this final game, I was stoked to see Spencer. I waited around. He promised me he would notify me as soon as he sat in his seat, then we would meet up. So I sat, and waited. The boys warmed up. They looked great; this game was going to be awesome. I looked up from my phones black screen to Ryan as he ran into the dugout.

"Man!" he said, partially out of breath. "I feel so confident today!"

I nodded. "Good for you."

He looked at me, confused by my sourpuss attitude. "What be troubling ye?" he asked. I had taught him some pirate speak, and he seemed to use it whenever he could. It always brightened the mood.

"Spencer hasn't texted me yet," I said, rushed and panic. I looked at my phone, quite literally hoping to see a light, but no such luck.

"Don't worry," Ryan said, sitting down and wrapping his arm around my shoulder. "He will," he said, rubbing my shoulder.

Then he grabbed my phone and ran out on the field.

"Ryan!" I yelled stepping on the field. I was not about to run in my condition. "Please?" I said, holding out my hand as a way of saying 'GIMME MY PHONE BACK!'

He smiled and walked over to me. I opened up and he hugged me. I embraced his warm and sweaty body and his tight but gentle grip. "Looks like someone has a text from 'Spenca', should I read it?" he asked playfully.

"No!" I shouted, yanking my phone from his very firm grip. I quickly opened the text message.

Blaire! I finally made it in! It was absolutely CRAZY out there. Be thankful you were in Miller Park already. People even got hurt! Well, I am sitting several rows behind the Brewers dug out. Where do you want to meet? I am down with anything, maybe where they're giving away rally towels. It's only at the main gate and that's not hard to find.

I smiled. "Ryan, I'll see you in a few," I said, walking back into the dugout, finishing my text message telling him;

Yeah, I can find that place; see you by the main gates soon!

The final game began within minutes. The pennant race finally drawing to a close, with little mercy to its pursuers. The Brewers were starting to feel the pressure; even Prince had a break down. It would have been a first for the Brewers. I escaped for a few small moments to see the one person who always gave me hope, Spencer. I spotted him, sweater vest in all.

"Reid!" I yelled, smiling, my eyes stinging with tears.

He slowly turned around and we peered into each other's eyes through a mess of blue and yellow. "Blaire Amanda Copper!" he shouted pushing his way through the crowd to me. The next thing I felt was his warm, inviting hug around me and tears on my cold cheek.

"Spencer," I literally cried into his sweater vest.

He pulled back and studied my splotchy face. "You're glowing," he said, unusually sensitive.

"I feel like a fat slob," I said, laughing as I dried a tear.

"You look beautiful. Strange what a pregnancy can do to a body," he said. We both stood there in an awkward silence, when Spencer perked up. He placed his left hand on my shoulder."Listen, I think you should stay here," he said out of the blue. This idea of his killed the mood of happiness abounding around us.

"But what about you?" I said, worried of losing him again. It was the last thing I needed at this point in time.

"You're in good hands with Ryan and you'll be closer to this miracles father, and I'll visit once a month. I promise. Just," he sighed and leaned in a bit closer, "At least that person quit bothering you," he said.

A light bulb went off in my head and bursted into fireworks. I was safe in Milwaukee. I was in love in Milwaukee. I hadn't been this happy since Christmas in 2002. I smiled.

"You're right. You tell anyone at the BAU?" I asked, as walked to get a bubbly beverage.

"They all know," he laughed out. "And they told me to tell you 'congratulations'!'" I smiled.

I figured becoming pregnant would have leaded me down a path of a shrunken support groups, but really, it hasn't. Lots of the Brewers and their wives all said they'd be there for me. And surprisingly, John's soon to be ex wife said she was there for me. We met by accident as she was leaving John's house and I was going there for a meeting with him, Ryan and couple other guys. She offered to meet up and have coffee a few weeks later. I took her up on the offer and we met at Starbucks. She told me that she and John didn't love each other anymore. They really had just married for their daughter, Ellia. She also told me about the relationship the two shared. John was not always the most supportive guy in the whole wide world. It worried me a bit, but as soon as I saw John again, all my doubts disappeared.

We stood in line for 10 minutes, but eventually, I got the icy cold beverage I wanted. It didn't seem to be an unusual craving. Even before I became pregnant, I seemed to crave soda.

"I'm also here to watch the game," he said, after a long silence of slurping Diet Cokes.

"And I probably should get back to the dugout," I said. "See you after the game?"

He nodded. I gave him a quick hug and walked away. Spencer walked back to his seat, quickly and quietly, but suddenly, he fell to the ground and was taken away, right in the middle of a crowd too.

I made it back to the dugout, the game was still scoreless, but Ryan was up to bat and Corey was on second base. The ball was pitched and that sucker was out of here. The park went absolutely nuts. We were in the lead. One step closer to winning. Ryan ran into the dugout and everyone erupted in cheers. I sat in the corner, looking out, happy for the boys. Ryan spotted me and darted over.

"Oh my word!" he shouted, hugging me, "Did you see that!"

I nodded excitedly. "Good job!" I said.

He leaned into to me and whispered "I hit it, just special for you," Ryan whispered quietly into my ear. I wrapped my arms around his neck and inhaled his sent. He smelled like dirt. I could live with it though. Prince hit a homerun and then Nyjer and Betancourt struck out. We had a step ahead of the other team, though.

The first inning ended and it was time to play some defense. Nine of the best on the team ran out and prepared to crush the offense in its tracks, or so I hoped. After Grienke struck out the first batter, the second batter came up. During that time Spencer called.

"Hey dude!" I said playfully, expecting a response as equally as playful. It was silent for a moment; I heard a punch, a yelp and Spencer came on the phone.

"Goodbye" he said quietly and the phone called ended.

"Spencer," I said quietly. "Spence!" I said, louder than before. I hung up and called again. It was off. Whoever it was, they were back and ready to ruin my life. My jaw dropped and I sat in the corner not sure if I should get help, cry or sleep. Sleep away this last half of the day, possibly. Pretend like nothing of this violent nature happened.

Zack struck out the next two batters and Jerry suited up. Jonathan was the first to spot me in my troubled state and walked to me.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting next to me and wrapping his sweaty arm around me.

"Spencer," I managed to whisper, tears pouring down. Pregnancy also makes you cry at everything. But I didn't think I was overreacting. A normal person would cry in the situation.

"What about Spencer?" he asked.

"He called," I swallowed back some tears, "said goodbye and hung up and when I called him back, his phone was off," I bit my lower lip.

John just looked at me. "Watch the game. Maybe his phone died," John suggested kindly.

I shook my head. "No, no," I said forcefully.

"Why not?"

"I heard punching, a Spencer scream and he said goodbye," I said.

John hugged me. I sobbed as quietly as I could into his shoulder. I pulled back, his hand gently stopping on my slowly growing abdomen. "Anything I can do?" he asked. I pressed my forehead against his and sighed. I didn't ever want to leave, but, realistically, I needed to go. This embrace we shared would never happen again, so I savored every last second of it. I bent forward and kissed him. I stood up and left. I got into the main area, now to hunt down a cop. Ryan approached John. "What's bothering her?" he asked.

"It was Spencer," he said, putting on his batting gloves.

"What about him?" Ryan questioned back.

"She thinks he's in trouble and I don't blame her. From the way she described it, he could be in serious trouble."

"Where is she now?"

John shrugged his shoulders. Ryan huffed a bit as Jonathan put on the protective cap for when he goes up to go bat. Ryan jogged over to Shaun who was standing over by the tunnel.

"Marcum, you see Blaire?" he asked peering about.

"Yeah," he said. "She was in a complete fluster."

Ryan darted down the hallway. "Blaire!" he shouted, and before he could move a step forward, he was swarmed by a plethora of people. "Please," he said kindly, pushing his way through. "Blaire!" he shouted again, jogging out.

I heard the faint shout. "Hello!" I yelled, hoping it to be Spencer.

"Blaire!" they shouted again. I stopped dead in my tracks, people veering around me.

"Spencer?" I yelled.

Around the bend came Ryan. "Ryan?" I said, even more perplexed.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, walking towards me.

"Getting help, Spencer is in grave danger!" I shouted grabbing his hand.

"Whoa," Ryan said stopping me.

"What?" I said agitated.

"Are you sure he's in trouble?" I glared at him.

"What?" he asked innocently. Don't play Mister Innocent with me!

I pulled out my phone and called Garcia. "Hey baby mama," she said cheerfully, "What can I do for you?"

"Can you track Spencer's phone?" I spat out quickly.

"What? Why?" she questioned.

"I think he's in trouble," I said, quietly.

"Sure dear," she said, her voice fading off.

I stared Ryan in the eyes. He grabbed my waist and held me close. My heart started racing. I looked to a TV. It was beginning of the fourth inning, Brewers still ahead.

"Blaire, he seems to be up on the roof of Miller Park," she said, confused.

I blinked. "What?" I asked. How did he manage to make it on the roof? Either that or Spencer was in serious danger, and there was little I could do about it.

"That's where his cell phone is, did he lose it?" she asked, perplexed as I was.

"No. Garcia, what..." I stuttered. "What's wrong?" I asked. "What's going on? I am really worried."

The end of the line was quiet for a few moments. "Go get help, call me if you need anything else," she said, tenderly.

I thanked her and hung up. "I need to find a cop," I said, walking away.

"Blaire, wait!" he called after me.

"Don't you have to go back to the game?"

"I care about Spence too," he said.

"No. Get back to the game," I said, pushing him away a bit.

"Let me get you at least to a cop," he said, walking around ahead of me. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along. I squeezed his hand in disagreement. Nyjer was on the final pitch before either a strike or a walk occurred.

"Where the hell is Braun?" Ron Roenicke shouted.

"He left and went after Blaire," Shaun said casually. "Oh boy. What do we do?" he asked as he came to his senses.

"I am going to talk to the other coach," Ron said leaving the dugout.

"And it appears Ron Roenicke has left the dugout!" an announcer said, over enthusiastically. "And it seems he's in the other teams dugout!" he continued.

"Excuse me!" Ryan shouted. A cop looked over at us.

"Yes," he said, confused by Ryan's presence.

"Hold on, you know the story, I'll be back," I said, leaving. I walked to the stands. Ron was really in the opposing team's dugout. I looked around, maybe a clue as to why he was in there. Suddenly it hit me. Ryan was up to bat. I back away and ran to Ryan. "Dude. You're up to bat," I said.

Ryan's eyes grew huge.

"We're right on it. We can give Blaire a call when we have more info."

"Thanks!" Ryan and I said in unison. He pulled me down through the home plate stand and around to a low area not netted in and we hopped it. Ron exited the other dugout.

"Ryan!" he shouted. "What's going on?" he asked.

Ryan pushed me towards the dugout and I walked in. As soon as I stopped at the last step, all that happened was silence and staring at me. "Ryan was helping me. This is my entire fault. Don't blame him," I said, after a long, awkward moment of silence. The pitching coach approached me.

"Get out," he said, under his breath.

"Yes sir," I said running out of the dugout and back to where I came in. I went by the vendors and paced back and forth. I did that forever it seemed. I worried about everything. Spencer, Ryan, John, my baby. My phone vibrated with an unknown number. I let it ring twice then hit the green button.

"Hello, Blaire," they said.

I stopped dead in tracks. "Hi," I said.

"I have a surprise for you come out by home plate," they said then hung up.

I hung up and walked to home plate. Then out of nowhere, I heard screams and body fell to the ground from the roof. I screamed also. It was Reid. I ran to him.

"Spencer," I said as the crowd went to silent.

"Hey Blaire," he said, grabbing my hand. "I can't feel anything below my bellybutton," he said laughing.

"I love you, Spencer," I said. He let go of my hand and placed it on my belly. "Raise this baby well. Please."

I covered his hand with mine. "I promise," I said. He coughed violently. "Someone! Help!" I shouted. "Please," I looked back at Spencer who had stopped coughing and moving at all for that matter.

"Spence," I whispered weakly, due to my overwhelming need to cry. The paramedics rushed over and checked his vitals. One looked up at me and shook her head. I stood there for a minute. I looked over to the dugout, my eyes clouded with tears. "No!" I screamed, falling to my knees. I sat and covered my eyes. Spencer was dead. Why? Tears streamed from my eyes, pooled in my palms and slowly fell down my arms. I wiped up a bit and I eased myself down and cried into the dirt. Not moving sounded pretty good, but I felt a gentle nudge. I didn't want to look up. I wanted to lay here forever.

"Blaire," the voice said. I heard a few footsteps and someone squatted in front of me. It was John. He pulled me up and held me close. "I am so sorry," he said. I gripped his jersey and let it all out.

"John, I want to die. I really do!" I shouted. John stroked my hair.

"Let's get you back to Ryan's," he said into my hair. One of the trainers was a as kind enough to drive me back to Ryan's. I walked inside, plopped on the couch and stared at a charming photo of Ryan, Jamison and Spencer. I lost 2/3 people in that picture. I hate death. I hated God at this point. Why would he take such wonderful people from me? I dug around for the remote and realized I craved some broccoli. I hated broccoli.