"Getting a second life is one thing. Making it a better life, that's the trick." –Rick Riordan

After the fall came the return, and while an abundance authors wrote of a fall from grace, he had come to believe that while there was no way to fall gracefully, there were a great many ways to return gracefully. None of them were easy, of course, nothing worthwhile ever was. Thrice had he practiced the art of a homecoming.

The first had been after Tobias, and he isolated himself with his needles and his bottles to forget all of the pain forced upon him. There had been so much shame and so much anger, and he had no idea how to talk about those things with any of his colleagues. The second was after Maeve's death. He still didn't know how to talk about things that hurt or to work through grief, and so he had locked himself in his apartment for two weeks before finally learning it was impossible recover alone. The third was the one he was still working through, and this one was just as difficult. Everyone on the team knew exactly why he had taken a leave of absence, and though he understood they were just glad to have him back, he still felt guilty for what he had put them through.

The first day always was the worst, when everyone was tiptoeing around him and wondering what to say or what to ask him. Hotch could always be counted on to focus on the work, coming straight in and making sure that his team was taking care of business. The unit chief would ask him once – and only once, unless Reid gave him cause for concern – how he was, before leaving the matter alone. He appreciated that. Rossi would say very little, but occasionally glance his way with something like pity in his eyes. Morgan and Alex would welcome him back with open arms, and JJ would play the mother hen, doting on him until she could be certain he was alright. And then there was Garcia, who went out of her way to cheer him up in any manner she could find.

This time the usual sympathies and uncertainties applied, but there was something lighter in the air. Morgan's pat on the back was accompanied with a smug look, JJ asked him about his week, and when Rossi slid a sly smile his way, Reid realized what it was. This was about his relapse, but it was also about her. They knew Bianca had stayed with him that week, and he wasn't sure exactly what conclusions they leapt to as a result. Regardless, he tried to shake it off as always, hoping he didn't appear any more awkward than usual. He wasn't planning on revealing that she not only slept at his apartment, but in his bed.

With him.

Eight nights in a row.

No, that was a secret he would much rather keep to himself. It was something for just the two of them to share, those drowsy minutes just before falling asleep and just after waking up, when he thought it had to be a dream to have her so close to him for so long.

Around lunchtime, Garcia strolled over to his desk, a paper sack in her hand. "Welcome back, Junior Einstein. We missed you."

"It's good to be back," he replied. "I missed you guys, too."

The blonde woman raised her eyebrows. "Oh, really? You sure about that?" Reid frowned, glancing around to see if there was something he wasn't getting. Did she really think he could be away for two weeks and not want to see them?

"Of course I did. Why wouldn't I? You're my family."

"Aw!" She swatted his shoulder. "Thanks, Reid. But I was starting to think maybe you were a little too comfortable at home. What with your lady friend staying there and all."

He felt his ears burn red and he was glad it was Garcia in front of him, who wouldn't be able to profile his overcorrection as he clenched his fist and tightened his jaw in an effort to seem calm. "It wasn't like that!" he said, his voice cracking and giving him away. "She just stayed to help me through withdrawal. We watched old movies, and she slept on my sofa." And technically she had, for six of those nights anyways.

"You made her sleep on the couch? I thought you were a gentleman!" Penelope was aghast.

"I – what – but she insisted on that and –"

"Relax, boy genius. I'm only teasing you. I have two weeks worth of catching up to do." Garcia opened the paper sack, setting a chocolate cupcake with mound of icing on his desk. "I really am glad you're okay. I thought you might like a welcome-back-present."

Reid thanked her, and she shrugged it off with a smile. It was nice to feel wanted, to feel absolved of his mistakes. The BAU was always a constant in his life, there for him through the very best and the very worst of all his years. It was a universal truth in his world, that no matter what his team would support him, and he would do the same for them. That same evening, they were called to a case in Massachusetts. Falling back into a steady routine, that was easy. Sitting in the bullpen, flipping through a case file, grabbing his go-bag. In an effort to win his colleagues over again, he even balanced five cups of fresh coffee in his arms as climbed into the jet, one for each of them, ordered exactly the way they liked. There was a chorus of thank you's, and he sat down feeling a little more at peace.

"You didn't have to do that, kid," Morgan said. "There's nothing you need to apologize for."

"I know," he replied. "I wanted to though. If it's not an apology, think of it as a token of appreciation. I'm lucky to have you all in my life. And… I especially wanted to say thanks to you. For going to my apartment that night."

"Don't mention it."

It all felt right, taking off and reviewing the case, landing and settling in with the local officers at the station, and finally heading to a hotel to get some rest before the long day of work began in the morning. It was good to be back. At the same time, he felt a little lonely in a bed that seemed strangely empty without someone to share it with. For the first time in eight days, he fell asleep without her in his arms.

The phone on her nightstand woke her up. Had it been anyone else, she would have rolled over and gone back to sleep, but not for him. "Spencer?" she mumbled. "Is everything okay?"

"Oh, hey! Did I wake you up? I'm so sorry, I didn't think you would answer. I was just going to leave a message that's all…"

"It's okay. What's going on?" The clock nearby said it was just past midnight.

"Nothing really, I just wanted you to know I'm home. We landed about an hour ago. This case took a little longer than we expected." There was something in his voice, a trace of weariness that wasn't quite attributable to this late hour.

Bianca sat up, pulling the blankets closer to her chin. "Did something happen? You sound a little shook up."

The other end of the line was silent for a few moments, before he finally said, "Sort of. We've seen worse, but the outcome just wasn't… wasn't what we were hoping for."

"Listen, I'm going to be honest. I'm really tired right now, and I don't think I can keep up with a discussion."

"No, of course, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called so la-"

"Hey," she interrupted. "You didn't let me finish. I want to talk to you, just not right now. We both need sleep. How about breakfast? Tomorrow morning?" He began to protest, saying that he had to be at the office by 9 AM. "Yeah, and I've got class at 8. It takes you about an hour to get to Quantico on the metro, so if we meet at 6:30, that gives us an hour and a half to catch up."

Finally he conceded, on the grounds that they choose someplace with very strong coffee. In the early autumn chill, just as the sun was making its way over the horizon, she made her way across the city to a sleepy café. Spencer was slumped in a booth, stirring sugar into his coffee cup with the lazy circles of a small spoon. When he saw her, his expression immediately changed, perking up instantly as she slid in across from him.

It was impossible not to be reminded of mornings spent together at his kitchen table, not all that long ago. Human beings fell into routines so easily, and it now felt odd to wake up to an empty apartment, to eat breakfast without him. His presence seemed to saturate every corner of her life, their worlds overlapping so entirely. It was a happy overlap; happy, the way she felt as he told her about his latest case and she watched his smile slowly return to full strength.

"In the end, Rossi had to shoot the unsub. The woman was holding hostage made it out alive, but I don't know if she's going to ever really recover. Sometimes I wish it was easier for us to reach out to the victims after the arrest. Make sure they're doing okay." He looked up from the plate of waffles he'd been working away at as he talked. "Thanks again, for meeting me."

"You've been gone four days. I wanted to see you," she replied. "You know, I'm sure if you asked, Penelope could let you know how that woman is doing."

"There's not much Garcia can't do," he laughed. Those two were remarkably similar in their work ethic and brilliance, but her domain was the technological world, while he preferred paper and longhand. Despite their differences, they always looked out for each other. All of the BAU did. "What about you? Is everything okay with your classes?"

Happy, the way she felt when he took the time to check in on her. "A little more stressful than last semester, but nothing I can't handle. It's going to be worth it when I finally get that law degree."

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "You know, there's disagreement in the academic community as to whether lawyers should be counted as PhD students or not. After all, Hotch is a lawyer, and nobody calls him doctor."

"Yes, but you're not dating Hotch." Bianca reached across the table to steal a bit of waffle, a gesture he allowed with a grin. "Maybe I'll just go and get another degree after this. That could be our thing, accumulating PhDs together. Like this could be a thing."

"This?"

"Breakfast," she clarified. There never seemed to be enough time with him. To talk with him or to love him. The more time they had, the more time she wanted. "When you've been away for a while, it's nice to catch up face to face. We could just have breakfast together. Coffee included."

Happy, the way that he felt when she wanted to be close to him. It was a few weeks later when he arrived to the office late, garnering a few curious glances.

Morgan sauntered over to him. "Pretty Boy, it's not like you to show up late."

"Sorry, I was out for breakfast," he said, throwing his bag down on his desk.

"Breakfast? With the little lady?"

Reid shook his head, amused at the diminutive. "Mmmhmm. It's… a thing." Breakfast worked well, a chance for both of them to meet before their work began, a few hours in a fairly empty restaurant or café, a corner of the universe to themselves as the rest of the city began to wake up. Breakfast was her favorite meal, the one she was least likely to skip, especially now that it gave them a reason to spend the morning together. "Bianca says it's important to start every day with something good."

"So you're her good thing?" asked Morgan. Reid froze, a file in his hand halfway opened. He hadn't considered that angle before. Of course his favorite way to start a day was sitting across from her while she flashed him a smile, the kind that shook his inhibitions and reached straight through to his heart. With stars in her eyes and a hand to hold while they drank coffee – one cup with too much vanilla, one with too much sugar.

Happy, the way he felt when someone else could see it, what they felt for each other. Happy. The way he felt whenever she was on his mind.

"I guess so," he said, moreso to himself than to Morgan.

He was sitting in the lobby of an Arizona hotel with Alex, nursing a cup of coffee after dinner. The team was taking advantage of a few hours of free time; JJ and Hotch were calling their respective families, and Morgan was out at a bar Rossi. Typically Reid would spend his time reading in his room alone, but he enjoyed spending time with Alex. Of all the people he worked with she understood him best, and for that he was grateful. It was nice to have somebody who wanted to talk about things like linguistics, who did crossword puzzles with him, who knew just as many random facts as he did.

"I've been meaning to ask, when did you cut your hair that way?" Blake gestured towards him, and he felt his hand move towards the back of his neck self-consciously, where he'd buzzed off a portion of his brown curls.

"Thursday," he answered. "After everything that happened last month, I was looking to make a few changes. Though I think I should've given Bianca a heads-up." When he'd gone to see that evening, her mouth had fallen open. For nearly a whole minute she tried to come up with something to say, and he was worried she didn't like it. Later she explained it wasn't that, it was just such a departure from his previous haircuts ("It was just starting to get long again," she'd lamented). He'd never worn it quite like that, the back and sides shaved short, his bangs long, but hair was one of the easiest things to change; he wanted everything about this year to feel far removed from the last. Eventually she came around, just as she had the last time he cut it.

Alex nodded. "I'll bet she more than little was surprised. How is she, by the way? I don't think I've ever had the chance to really discuss her with you." They'd talked about Maeve at length a few months ago, but since her return Bianca hadn't been introduced to Blake, not counting the day after his overdose.

"She's good. Thanks for asking. And you're right – I don't think I've really told you about her before." Where was he supposed to begin? Finding her again had been a rediscovery, realizing that the map of his heart was marked by all the bridges he thought had burned, every last one of them leading back to her. The rest of the team knew their history, had been with Reid when he first met her.

"She was living in New York when we met. Bianca was working for the UN, and we were consulting on a human rights case there. I'd never really met someone like her before. She was thoughtful, passionate, optimistic. She wrote poetry and talked with her hands and knew everything about Eleanor Roosevelt. When we closed the case, I thought I wouldn't see her again, but one thing led to another and then she was moving to DC and we were together. When I started getting headaches though, I sort of broke things off."

"Ah, now that I know. Garcia filled me in," she added, upon seeing the perplexed expression on his face.

It was a little disconcerting to learn that Alex was familiar with the part of the story he most regretted. "I guess you know the rest then. She came back to the District, and when I needed someone to talk to, she was always there. No questions asked. Bianca listened to me after Maeve died, and even though she was so scared, she came to find me when I was using again..." He swallowed, recalling the night she found him unconscious in his apartment, the look of terror on her face when he came to.

"She even stayed with me through withdrawal. None of those things were easy for her, but she did them. I don't think there's another person on the planet who's that kind."

"You are," Blake said plainly.

He blinked, startled by her honesty. "You really mean that?"

She gazed softly at him. "Sure I do. It's why you two work so well. You both put other people first." Alex reminded him of all the times he'd checked in on the other members of the team, the advice he gave her about James, his general aversion to hindering someone else with his problems.

"I just… I always feel like she's the one giving all the time, and I'm just taking. I keep messing things up between us."

"That's not true. And if you asked her, I bet she'd say the same thing. You're being too hard on yourself, Reid. I don't have to work at the BAU to see you're crazy about her, and she clearly loves you more than anything." Alex spoke candidly, but with an air of authority. That was fair, he supposed, since she was the one of the only two members of the unit who were currently married.

Reid was hesitant to let himself believe her words, to think it was that simple. He knew what his own feelings were, and he certainly hoped she reciprocated them. But then, if she didn't, why would she have stayed? Why would she always think the best of him, trust him and want to spend her days with him? There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to spend all of his with her.

"Bianca means everything to me," he found himself saying. Only a few months ago, admitting that would have left him feeling guilty, but he was surprised to find that he meant it. There was no way to bring Maeve back, but Bianca chose to stay time after time. He had fallen madly in love with Maeve's mind, but with Bianca the first thing about her that he'd loved was her heart. When he was with her, he was better. She made him want to be better.

"I know." Alex patted his hand, a knowing smile on her face. "And so does she." He tried to let her know every chance he got. When he was away, he called each night to tell her he loved her, and when he came back late at night they met the next morning for breakfast, no matter how early they had to wake up to do so. At the library he was always on the lookout for poetry books she might enjoy, and when thunderstorms rolled in over DC, he was there for her. Sometimes he would make his way to her apartment in the downpour; other times she would call him late at night and they would talk until the lightning subsided.

"Who knows what?" JJ came around the corner, a bag of Cheetos in one hand, her phone call to Will and Henry evidently over.

Close as he was with JJ, he didn't exactly want to rehash the topic again. It was difficult enough explaining it Alex. Instead, he said, "You know that I'm sorry. Uh, for snapping at you earlier about the whole kids thing."

"Don't worry about it Spence. I'm not mad at you or anything. I just don't want you to feel like all the good things are behind you. You can still do them." That earned another astute nod from Blake, and he knew that whatever was still to come, he didn't have to face it alone. There were six people who counted him as part of their family – seven, including Emily, all the way in London. And there was someone who loved him immensely, who was waiting for him to come home safely. Someone who he could share a future with, who he could share every good thing with.

Penelope had once joked with her that the BAU could play just as hard as they worked. It certainly seemed to hold true tonight, one of the rare nights that the agents gathered with their significant others to celebrate something good. Something so much more than good, in her opinion. Not a thing, but a person. Her person. It was his thirty-second birthday, and they'd gone out for drinks after work. Though Spencer himself was sticking to strictly non-alcoholic beverages, everyone was having a good time. Morgan's new girlfriend had been called in to the hospital and unable to join them, but Will came along with JJ, and Garcia brought Sam.

There had been dancing and shots and plenty of wild stories about the things that happened in the field, the laughable sort rather than the horrifying sort. The infamous prank war, the time Rossi made Spencer climb down a ditch just to preserve his leather shoes, when Garcia accidently answered the phone with "talk dirty to me" only to discover she was speaking to Strauss, not Morgan.

It had given the ladies of the Bureau a chance to meet Garcia's boyfriend, who earned the stamp of approval, though JJ promised that should things turn south, she would be there with a pint of Ben and Jerry's. "Cherry Garcia sound good?" Jennifer asked.

"While I appreciate my namesake flavor, I've found that Brownie Batter heals a heart faster," mused Penelope. She turned to Bianca. "What do you think?"

"I couldn't say. I've never been a 'breakup and eat a pint of ice cream' sort of girl."

It was then that Spencer came up behind her. "No, of course not," he laughed. "You're the kind who writes a book about it instead." She blushed furiously, not realizing he'd been standing there. In the dull cacophony of bar background noise, he had to lean in close to whisper in her ear, adding, "But that's my kind of girl." Her face felt practically scarlet at that point, but he enveloped her in an embrace, letting his hands wander to the small of her back. For a minute the rest of the bar faded out as she trained her focus on the smell of his shirt, the feeling of his arms around her. For a minute, it seemed he was content to tune everything out, grateful for the imitation of a more intimate setting and the nearness of him.

It didn't last though, as Morgan came to pull him towards Hotch and Rossi. Spencer was starting to look a little worn out from all the social interaction, but it was good for him to spend time out with everyone. Behind the weariness in his eyes, there was still happiness, and a smile that he couldn't manage to shake. If anyone deserved a night of unbridled happiness, it was him.

Eventually, Rossi called them all over around a single table, where they gathered with drinks balanced in their hands. "Now that we've all had time to drink and be merry, I'd like to propose a toast. Reid, we're all here for you today. It's been a hell of a year, but here's to this year being better than the last."

Spencer glanced around at the congregation of friends,

"To the smartest kid I've ever met," Rossi began, raising a shot of scotch.

One by one they went around: Hotch, JJ, Garcia with various cocktails.

"To a valuable friend and admirable colleague."

"To a good partner, a great godfather, and our favorite genius."

"To my favorite Doctor – except for maybe Matt Smith."

Sam, shifting a little uncertainly beside Garcia. "I don't know you that well, but here's to you. From what Penelope tells me, you're a great guy."

Morgan, Will, and Alex with a bottle of beer.

"To the prettiest boy I know. I'm always here for you."

"To the only person I've met who can hold three PhDs and still be a good babysitter."

"To someone who leads with his head and lives with his heart."

When it was her turn, she met his eyes, her heart warming at the sight of him, utterly happy. "To the person I love most in this world."

Rossi raised his scotch in the air. "To Spencer."

"To Spencer," they echoed, voices punctuated with the sound of clinking glass. Those two syllables identifying the person she so adored, repeated in unison. There was a hint of pride she felt, as all of these people celebrated him and laughed with him, that this man was the one she loved. That his life had managed to touch so many. That somehow, she'd managed to end up by his side. And when he grinned at her from across the room, she marveled at the fact that he'd chosen her as well.

When the evening rolled towards night, the sky outside the bar long since dark, the team slowly began to trickle out the door, and eventually she slipped out to the parking lot with him. The change in volume, from rambunctious bar to softly echoing streets was jarring at first, and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the shift in light. One constant in life was Spencer's car, the old blue Volvo looking a little out of place in the 21st century. An anachronism, much like the rest of his possessions, and perhaps Spencer himself.

As they drove, he kept one hand on the wheel and one hand on hers. "Thirty-two," he mused. "I'm starting to feel old."

"Ah, but you're dating someone in their twenties. That should make you feel young."

"Yeah, that five year age difference really does it," he joked. In the earliest stages of their relationship, they'd both been a little hesitant because of those one-thousand-eight-hundred or so days between them. It seemed so insignificant a thing now, five years.

"Les amoureux fervents et les savants austères, aiment également, dans leur mûre saison," she quoted. Both ardent lovers and austere scholars love in their mature season. It was a line from Baudelaire's sonnet Les Chats.

Spencer glanced over at her, a smirk on his face. "You know how I love it when you speak French. And French poetry?" Rewarded with his hand over hers, gliding up and down her forearm, she told herself to study up on French poems just for that purpose. Beneath the cover of the star-sprinkled sky, they strolled from the car to his building, his arm around her waist like the most natural thing in the world.

"I've got something for you," she said, leading him up the stairs. It had taken some planning to pull it off, but she had no doubts it was worth it. Bianca instructed him to sit in at the table, eyes closed while she tried to open cabinets and drawers as quickly as possible. The most difficult part was striking a match and putting it out without raising suspicion, but if he knew what was going on, she couldn't tell. "Open your eyes."

As soon as he did, they widened in obvious surprise. Before him was a small cake, decorated with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles. A single candle illuminated the table in a dim glow. "You made this? When?"

"A magician never reveals her secrets," she laughed. In truth it had involved using her spare key to sneak in when he was at work, storing it in the back of the fridge, and hiding the evidence before he came home. "Go on then. Make a wish."

Without hesitation, he replied, "I don't need to. I've got a job I love, a family who cares about me, and the girl I love. What more could I wish for?" Nevertheless, he blew out the candle, and carefully cut a small slice away from it. When he asked for a larger piece, she explained that piece was for her – the rest of the cake was for him and his unconquerable sweet tooth; hence the small size of the dessert.

Bars weren't exactly his scene, though he would go anywhere to be with his team and his friends. Even so, she wanted to give him something quieter, more relaxed. He felt more comfortable in small groups, intimate settings. And selfish as it may have been, she wanted a moment alone with him, to celebrate with just the two of them. There had been a time when she wasn't sure she would get to celebrate another year with him.

Thirty-two years he'd been on this earth, learning and growing and living and saving the lives of others. A small fraction of that time she'd known him, four meager years – and yet those four years felt like a lifetime. This was the first time she'd had the opportunity to commemorate the day of his birth, to say simply that she was glad he existed, glad he'd survived another trip around the sun.

"This is perfect," he sighed.

It was unclear whether he was referring to the moment itself, or merely to the cake, but she was happy to hear that regardless. "You're not the only one capable of profiling, you know. I've learned a few things in four years." A few things. Everything. All the things that mattered and him who he was. All the reasons she loved him. Just when she thought it wasn't possible to fall even deeper, he would do something that pulled her in just a little more, made it all but impossible to climb out of that rabbit hole. Not that she minded. To love him was wonderful, cherishing every Cheshire Cat grin and dreamlike day he gave her.

"It's been a good four years." Nostalgia danced in his eyes, reminiscent of candlelight.

Four years that weren't without their troubles and frustrations, but four years she wouldn't have traded for all the universe. "I'm so happy you were born," she murmured. "And I'm so happy to have met you. I can't possibly imagine my life without you in it. I just want you to know how much you mean to me. How much you've changed me. How grateful I am for all of that." Their time together taught her patience and strength, he made her more courageous and more confident, and somehow she felt more like herself around him. It was as though there were parts of yourself you couldn't discover on your own. It took the observant eye of another to show you just what you were capable of.

Though he'd assured her there was nothing he needed, Bianca had been meeting with Tanvi, one of her classmates, to knit a scarf for him. It had taken longer than expected, and she still had a few feet to go. A poem would've been faster, but it seemed almost redundant to write him something after having published an entire anthology about him. After explaining his gift would be a few days late, she said, "I still want to give you something tonight, though. Is there anything you can think of?"

Spencer considered the inquiry for a moment. "To kiss you," he answered.

"You're supposed to ask for something you want," she giggled.

"It is what I want." Taking her hand, he helped her up from the kitchen chair. "This is the first time I've been able to spend my birthday with you. That's the perfect present." The words rang with sincerity, and she knew that he'd wanted to have her there with him just as much as she'd wanted the chance to celebrate with him.

"Well, in that case…" She stood on her toes to capture his mouth in a slow kiss, as his arms enveloped her in an embrace. "Happy birthday, my love."

Once upon a time in New York City, he made her a promise for her birthday. And there, over two hundred miles away from the place they first met, she made a silent vow to herself – and to him. This was the first time she had celebrated his birthday with him. But it wouldn't be the last.

Author's Note:

(Edit): I just realized I accidentally posted Chapter 26 and not Chapter 25 earlier today, and so I've replaced that with the proper chapter! So if you've read the last update, you've actually read the next chapter haha!

Firstly, I want to apologize for the delay in posting this chapter! The real world takes priority, and I've been busier than I have been in months. It's a good sort of busy, for the most part, though. However, it means I don't always have the time to write/edit/brainstorm/reread as much as I'd prefer before putting a new chapter up. This one's a bit longer though, so hopefully that helps a bit?
Thank you for being the best readers ever!

Thank you to livesinasong13, XxAtousa1996xX, reverie-scriptor, Malou1, mizzmuzz, gossamermouse101, Etherealized, Spundygirl, SuperWhoLockgirl222, cuttiepiepay, makas soul, SHINKASHIRAYUKI, roryandamy, and Hanna Paul for following/favoriting this story!

And of course, thank you to my beloved reviewers: ahowell1993 (oh goodness, she would've been a nervous wreck haha!), dianakotori (thanks! I absolutely believe it's important for a relationship to be balanced. They're both vulnerable people with ghosts in their pasts, but they make each other better), Sue1313 (a very good point!), Love-Fiction-2016 (no, not yet! That's going to be a plot point soon enough though. For the time being, I think they've finally become comfortable in their relationship again). I'm always so grateful to you and the messages you leave me.