"Choose one to die, boy."

"I choose… I choose Jason Gideon."

The shack disappears and suddenly they—Tobias, Gideon, and himself—are standing in the middle of a road. A tractor trailer barrels in from the left, taking Gideon with it. Spencer screams. Tobias stands across the road and laughs hysterically. He is doubled over, hands on knees, pointing and gasping for breath, like someone has just told him the funniest joke of all time. Spencer blinks and now Tobias is standing beside him, all humor gone from his eyes, and he feels the cold metal of the gun press firmly into his temple. Tobias loads the single bullet into the chamber. Spencer closes his eyes in recognition. Tobias pulls the trigger—

o.O.o

Aaron isn't exactly sure which noise wakes him because both happen at the same time. Downstairs, Spencer is screaming in his dreams again. But this time it is a blood-curdling sound that isn't tapering off and has him bolting from the bedroom. At the same time, Haley rockets down the hall to the nursery where Jack is wailing.

Spencer is a sobbing, panicking mess on the floor where he has fallen off the couch. Hotch thinks it would be best not to touch him, but he has to do something. Weighing his options, he settles for plan C, knowing it most likely will not work out in his favor. He situates himself onto the carpet beside his agent and firmly wraps his arms around Spencer's convulsing frame. As expected, Spencer tenses and tries to escape the contact, but Aaron is resilient and only tightens his hold as he whispers reassurances into the boy's ear. He reaches for Spencer's head to card his fingers through the hair but is met with smooth baldness that he knows Spencer hates with a passion. He moves his hand back to Spencer's shoulder and applies pressure.

After some time, Spencer slowly starts to regain composure and the convulsing lessens to quivering. Aaron feels pressure as Spencer cautiously leans into him. Hotch does not loosen his hold.

Aaron thinks that perhaps the memorial service hadn't been the best idea. Maybe it was too much for Spencer to take in in one day. He shouldn't have let him go.

When enough time has passed, he quietly asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Spencer doesn't answer, but he begins to pull away. Aaron lets him go this time and watches Spencer wipe vigorously at his cheeks. In the glow of the standing lamp, he looks like a ghost. Aaron thinks that Spencer is a ghost now, at least in part. Part of his soul is gone, never to return.

Reid tries to stand, but his knee gives out and sends him back to the floor. Hotch is too slow to catch him. Spencer sucks in air through clenched teeth and curses. It is a deep, guttural sound and so rare that Hotch flinches at the ferocity of the words, but still he rises to his feet and offers his hand. Spencer takes it and together they get Reid situated onto the couch.

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispers. His voice is raw and hollow. "Tell Haley I'm sorry."

"She understands," Hotch says, but he knows it is a lie.

Spencer's voice is muffled as he turns onto his side so that his face is pressed against the back of the couch. "I shouldn't even be here."

Aaron is afraid to know what that means. With great difficulty, he walks back upstairs. He knows neither of them will be sleeping tonight.

o.O.o

The next morning, Spencer is gone.

Hotch is frantic. He tears the living room apart searching for anything. He moves to the dining room next, the kitchen, the bathroom, even the storage closets. He finds nothing.

Spencer's few belongings are nowhere to be found. The head pillow is placed neatly on top of the folded blankets on the couch. The crutches are gone. Spencer's medications are gone.

Haley is bouncing Jack on her hip as she tries to settle him. Despite the interruption in the middle of the night, he is wide awake and extra grabby this morning. His little hands keep stretching and latching onto anything within his reach. He is babbling happily and has a wide, toothy smile on his face. He is completely oblivious to the chaos around him.

"Should I call the police?" she asks. Her eyes are wide with terror.

"And tell them what?" Hotch snaps. He swipes his arm out in a half-circle that encompasses the room. He tends to over exaggerate his hand movements when he is ranting. "An addicted cripple with suicidal tendencies is wandering aimlessly around town and needs to come home?"

The tears that have been forming in his wife's eyes vanish in an instant. She stiffens, becoming ramrod straight. Her open mouth slams shut into a firm line. Jack waves one fist in front of her face and bumps it against her cheek. She doesn't even blink.

Aaron knows his tone would have gotten him in trouble, but the slip of the tongue has destroyed all chances of forgiveness. He might as well pack up his things and leave. Haley is going to murder him.

"What did you just say?" Her voice is ice cold and deadly.

His phone rings just then. Haley seems to be daring him to answer it. He does anyway.

"Hello?" he barks into the phone.

"Hotch, it's me." Derek greets him. "The Kid's with me."

His hand squeezes the phone so tightly he fears it will snap. He counts to ten before he even breathes again. "What?"

Over the line, he hears shuffling and what sounds like a door closing. His voice is quiet. "He called me early this morning, said he was at a bus stop a few blocks from your place. He told me not to ask any questions. He's sleeping now."

Right now, Hotch isn't sure he believes anything. Until he sees Spencer with his own two eyes... "Are you sure?"

Derek laughs but there is no humor. "No. I mean, physically, yes. But mentally… Hotch, I'm scared."

Aaron is, too. He is terrified.

He feels Haley's eyes burning into the back of his head like lasers. He meets her head on and mouths I'm sorry. She turns and heads up the stairs with Jack in her arms, who leans over her shoulder and waves at his father. Hotch wants to cry.

The clock on the wall reads quarter past eight.

"I'll be there in an hour."

He is half a second from ending the call when Derek interrupts him. "Hotch, wait. He's sleeping, really sleeping. Can we just let him rest for a while? I'll text you the second he wakes up."

He wants to say no, but he doesn't. After ending the call, he takes a moment to just breathe. He runs his hands through his hair and doubles over the back of a dining chair.

Spencer is alive. Spencer is sleeping at Derek's.

Why doesn't this feel like enough?

o.O.o

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty. You're up just in time for lunch."

Derek's voice is too loud, too cheery. Spencer is still trying to rub the grit from his eyes, and Derek wants to know what he wants for lunch? No thanks. He needs coffee.

He has barely crossed the threshold into the kitchen when a low growl sounds from his left. Now fully alert, he snaps to the left and sees Clooney in his golden-furred glory sitting in the corner. He watches Spencer's every move with beady eyes but makes no move to attack him. Spencer freezes.

"Clooney," Derek orders. The dog looks at him with innocent eyes. Spencer is momentarily offended. "Cool it."

The dog huffs like he is annoyed and Spencer thinks he even rolls his eyes. With a wary glance, he shuffles over to the coffee machine.

Derek opens the fridge and pulls out a head of lettuce. "BLTs good with you?"

"No thanks. I'm actually not very hungry." He finishes stirring the six teaspoons of sugar and takes a sip. Perfect.

Apparently Derek doesn't hear him because he pulls out a fresh tomato and a packet of bacon and lays them both on the counter. It's a miracle he can stomach the coffee. The idea of actual food makes him nauseous. He has to sit down. He chooses one of the two chairs at the little kitchen nook and breathes steadily through his nose. Derek is kneeling beside him in a second.

"Whoa! Hey, what's up, man?"

Spencer is hunched over with his arms wrapped tightly around his middle. The tiled floor is doing a weird swish-swosh thing that makes him feel even more seasick. He closes his eyes and gasps for breath.

"You gonna hurl?" Derek is always so delicate with his words.

Spencer forces himself to swallow the rising nausea. Slowly he uncurls until he is sitting straight. Clooney still eyes him from his corner.

"N-no."

Derek watches him with eyes that stare him down until Spencer is sure the man can see his insides. He squirms under the watch. He feels guilty enough already.

"You're eating two," Derek tells him decisively. Clooney barks in agreement. Spencer scowls at him.

In the end, Spencer doesn't even finish half of the first sandwich. He tries because the smell of the bacon causes his stomach to grumble and he is hungry for the first time in weeks. After a few bites though, he feels full and a little nauseous. So when Derek isn't looking, he sneaks pieces of bacon to Clooney as a sort of peace offering.

Derek says he's going to run outside and get the mail. Spencer tells him to lay off a little because he'll be here when he comes back. Derek looks like he wants to shake him, but he walks away and shuts the door a little too harshly behind him.

Spencer takes his plate to the sink and pours himself a fresh glass of water. He feels a slight pressure on his leg. Clooney is giving him doe eyes and a pitiful expression.

"I don't have anymore," Spencer tells him.

Clooney huffs and stalks away into the living room. So much for their truce.

The pain is slowly creeping into his knee again, but his head feels somewhat clear. Physical therapy next week is going to be hell, he thinks.

He steps into the living room the same time the door opens. Derek is browsing through his paper mail, and he is not alone.

"Dammit, Derek!"

Derek tosses the envelopes onto the coffee table. He crosses his arms and looks at Spencer with a look that says he cannot believe Spencer would think he would do otherwise. Hotch's expression changes from worry to anger to relief so quickly it gives Spencer whiplash. He half expects the older man to hug him.

"Look, you're my brother and I'm making it my job to do what's best for you." Derek tells him with no nonsense. Spencer wants to use the self-defense lessons Morgan has taught him to punch him square in the face.

"And how do you know what's best for me?" Spencer challenges. He is itching for a fight because maybe then he will be able to release some of this pent up anger.

"Just look at yourself!" Derek yells. He throws his hands outward like he is modeling a showcase. Clooney runs into the room barking at the loud noises.

Hotch steps forward and calmly asks Derek to leave them be for a few minutes. Derek takes a few deep breaths, grabs Clooney's leash, and asks the dog if he wants to go for a run. Clooney races to the door and waits excitedly for the click of the metal ring. Once the two of them are gone, Spencer begins to calm. He goes from livid to nervous in two seconds flat.

It hurts him more than he wishes it would to see Hotch looking at him like this. This man has gone more than out of his way to assist Spencer through this time, and what has he done in return? He's run away and caused even more worry. He has destroyed the beautiful family that the Hotchner's have. He has ruined all of their lives. Derek's will be next if Spencer stays here. The only way for everyone to be happy will be if he—

"Why did you leave?" Hotch asks him. His voice is quiet and it hurts to hear it. Spencer feels knives of guilt stabbing his heart. It isn't enough pain.

"I don't kn—"

Hotch interrupts him. He is raging now. "Do you have any idea what we, Haley and I, went through this morning? We tore the house apart! We looked everywhere. I was five minutes from calling the police! Not even a note? Dammit, Spencer. I thought you died." Hotch's voice hitches at the end and Spencer thinks he is seconds away from crying. Spencer blinks rapidly and feels dampness on his cheeks. All he can think is he's sorry, but he knows that isn't enough. He doesn't have the words. He never will.

Hotch closes his eyes, takes a very deep breath, very slowly lets it out. When he speaks again, his voice is soft. It sounds borderline exhausted. "I'm sorry."

Spencer flinches. Hotch shouldn't be apologizing.

"Maybe," Spencer interrupts, clears his throat. "Maybe I should stay here for a while." He blinks, meets Hotch's eyes straight on. "Hotch, your family is more important than me."

"Spencer, you are our family."

Spencer shakes his head, raises his hands in surrender. "No, Hotch." His throat feels tight, but the words feel right. "Haley and Jack are your family. Your wife needs you. Your son needs you."

Spencer really hopes Hotch didn't catch the way his voice broke, just a little, on the word "son." But after reading Hotch's face in the fourteen seconds of silence that follow, he knows Hotch heard it. Hotch surprises him with a strong, forceful hug that says more than words can ever. This is what a father feels like.

"Call me," Hotch insists in his ear.

"I will," Spencer squeezes him tighter, even tighter than that night in the cemetery. On that night, he had been afraid, scared quite literally to death. But today, right here in Derek's apartment, Spencer isn't scared. Spencer is content.

He knows they are all going to be okay.


Hi. It's been a minute.

I don't like the last quarter of this chapter, but I didn't know what else to do. I don't know where this is going anymore, but if you want to stick around for a while longer we can figure it out together.

Quarantine is providing me with lots of free time now. Stay inside. Stay safe. Wash your hands. Praying for all of you.