"Lydia," Hotch greeted as she rushed into the waiting room of a hospital.

"What do you know about his condition?" she demanded.

Hotch nodded for her to follow him farther back into the hospital. "He's got a mild concussion from where the unsub knocked him out and his left foot is broken. Other than that, his injuries are purely psychological. I got the doctors to allow you to stay here for the night and I ordered the others to go to their hotel rooms and sleep. You should be able to stay with him for the next few hours."

"Does the team know I'm here?"

He shrugged. "I didn't think you'd want me to tell them the reason I called you."

"And what is that reason?" she asked, slowing so that they could speak face to face.

Hotch looked at her sternly. "I know you're a private person," he began, "but I hope you don't make it into a habit of keeping secrets from me, Lydia."

Had Spencer told him? But he wouldn't have. Or, if he did, he wouldn't have blamed her for the secret. So perhaps, Hotch had just assumed. She'd expected that. "If there's a secret here, it belongs to Spencer, not me."

Upon hearing that, Hotch's hostile stance calmed. "I can imagine it does. And I'd like to speak to him about it, but for right now, he needs to see you."

She nodded. Now really wasn't the time. "Take me to him."

Hotch didn't follow her in, just pointed to the room where he was located.

Spencer had a bandage on the left side of his head and a boot around his left foot. His eyes looked dark and sunken, his hair a matted mess. It was a version of him she'd never seen before. One she never thought she would see.

"Lydia!" Spencer cried as she opened the door. He looked so overwhelmed. She wished more than anything she could take him away from all this. "What are you doing here?"

"Hotch called me." Lydia did all she could to hide the tears forming in her eyes and smile at him. "I think he's onto us."

Spencer didn't respond to her tease. He glanced outside, likely noticing Hotch's lingering presence. He was currently pulling out his phone, facing away from the couple.

"Looks like for the next little while we'll be limping buddies!" She tried again to make him smile. At the very least, acknowledge that she was there.

Something very traumatic happened to Spencer. She could have known that without coming all this way. But Hotch, for some reason, thought her being there would help. And she felt helpless. He wasn't okay. He was barely looking at her. Barely talking.

So, she pulled up one of the chairs, sat down next to him, and held his hand. Because all she could think to do was let him figure this out on his own. It's what he was best at.

They were silent for most of the night. Eventually, Hotch disappeared, likely going to get some sleep himself before the team had to fly home.

Spencer spilled a few tears, but stayed quiet. Lydia would hum quietly beside him. She thought he might eventually fall asleep, but he didn't. His mind was far away, too busy to sleep.

It wasn't until morning was approaching and Lydia knew she had to go before the others got there, that he spoke.

"I shot him, Lydia." His voice was a hoarse whisper. "I hate to even pull my gun out, and yet, I shot him."

"And it's a good thing you did," she said. "Tobias was having you dig your own grave-"

"No," he growled, startling Lydia. "Tobias was a good kid. He saved my life."

"But he was dangerous."

Her attempts to reassure him did the opposite. "It wasn't him! It was his father. He didn't deserve to die. And I killed him."

Lydia blinked. Spencer had never seemed irrational to her. He might be upset sometimes, but he never got so angry he was blindsided. "Spence, where is this coming from?"

"I just would have thought that you, of all people, would have more respect for the mentally ill."

The way he said it felt like he had embedded a dagger in her chest.

"Me of all…?"

"Yes! With everything that happened to your mom and then you! Tobias was a victim! Just like your mother. How would you feel if you found out I had shot your mother?"

He was twisting it.

"And I don't know what was up with your dad, but no stable person loses custody over their kids, so there's-"

"What the hell?" Lydia stood up quickly. "What has gotten into you?"

"Oh, did I strike a nerve, Lydia? Really?" He sat up, his IV pulling tightly against his arm. "You know, maybe if you stopped judging other people for their problems, you'd see you have a few of your own."

She blinked, her face burning in shame and anger. No one had ever thrown her family back in her face so cruelly. Spencer was not like this… right?

"Why is this about me?" she asked, her voice shaking slightly as she tried to stop the burning in her nose and behind her eyes.

"You always show up too late, you know that? I needed you and now that I'm in a hospital bed, you finally show. Sonia had to have a stroke for you to visit your family. And you think Tobias deserved to die for his illness?"

It was all too much. Maybe she'd been wrong about Spencer. All this time, she never would have thought he had this in him.

"I'm leaving, Spencer." She picked up her bag and threw it over her shoulder. "If you have anything else to add to your tirade, you can call me, okay?"

"Gotta leave before you hit someone you care about, hm?" he accused. "Gotta go be sad about your life and then not tell anyone about it, so that they think you're normal?"

"Goodbye, Spencer," she hissed.

Tears ran down her cheeks the minute she got out of the hospital, and for once, she paid no mind to them. Let other people see her cry. She didn't need their good opinion anyway.

Maybe it was the look in his eyes as he said it, but out of all his accusations, only one stuck with her. I needed you and now that I'm in a hospital bed, you finally show. Something about it tormented her.

He had needed her. Maybe for longer than she thought. She'd been so focused on Sonia, she barely responded to him. And even before that, she'd up and left for California without even giving him a wave from across the lot.

Did she deserve his hatred for that?


Lydia didn't respond to Hotch when he texted her the next morning. She didn't call him back when he left her a voicemail saying that they were getting on the jet back to DC. She didn't thank him for the flight back to California.

When Sonia and Beck asked if Spencer was alright, she replied with 'he's fine' and went to bed. She didn't need their sympathy. Maybe she didn't want it after all that he had said to her.

And the following day, she said nothing about it, jumping right back into her old routine of taking the twins to school and doing her schoolwork.

After about a month, Sonia was cleared to drive again. She wouldn't be back at her full health for a while, but her body was stronger than it had been in a while. The only real concern was ensuring that she kept track of her blood pressure so that she didn't cause another stroke. And as soon as she got this news, she sent Lydia back to Virginia, insisting that she get her life back.

Lydia didn't have the heart to tell her that at the moment, she never wanted to step into the BAU ever again. Almost a full year she spent with Spencer. Even more time bonding with the team as a whole. And when they were dating, he kept insisting that they hide their relationship, because he was scared she would break his heart.

She'd never even considered that he was capable of this. He hadn't talked to her the entire month. Didn't call, didn't text, didn't apologize. She had to wonder if perhaps it really was her fault. Maybe he was waiting for an apology from her. But if she was anything, she was stubborn. She'd entrusted so much of her family history to him and he threw it back in her face like trash. Like she was trash. That wasn't right. Good people don't do that, no matter how badly you messed up.

Hotch and Gideon both called her. Sometimes asking when she thought she'd be back to work on a case, other times checking in to see if she was doing alright. She didn't bother answering them. She didn't even tell them she was back in the city.

She tried to focus on her work, but even in her final semester, there wasn't enough to do to keep the boredom away for long. A thought started to creep across her mind. Sooner or later, I'll be out of a job with the FBI. I need to go back there or find another job.

Find another… There was no job that could ever be like the FBI. But as the thought crossed her mind, she realized that it wouldn't be too hard for her to find work. She was still speaking to her professor about a job at the college. Suddenly, a lot of things were looking good about it.

She'd just spent a lot of time speaking to her father about rebuilding their relationship and learning more about her mother. As a teacher, she'd never miss a holiday with her family again. Rebecca wouldn't hate her for eternity and Katie and Adam wouldn't grow up without her. If Sonia's condition got worse, she wouldn't feel so far away.

With a heavy heart, she picked up her phone, calling up Hotch's number. She hoped more than anything that he wouldn't pick up. Hoped he was on a case, was busy, his phone had died, anything.

"Lydia?" His voice on the other side made her heart rate speed up unhelpfully. She wanted to think she didn't miss the job, but she did. "How are you? We haven't heard from you in a while."

"Agent Hotchner," she began, formally. "I'm officially resigning from the BAU as a forensic contractor. I'll be in the office tomorrow night well after work hours to pick up my things and leave my badge. If there is anything you need or want me to do while there, please let me know before then. Otherwise, I'd really rather not have an encounter with any of the team members."

"What? I- Lydia-"

"I thank you for this job and opportunity, Agent. It is one I'll never forget."

And then she hung up.


When the doors of the elevator opened, Lydia breathed a sigh of relief. The bullpen was dark and quiet. Hotch hadn't told anyone she was coming, thank god.

Every step screamed at her to stop and reconsider, but then she remembered Reid screaming at her in her mind and a white, hot rage filled her again. She didn't need this job. She didn't need these friends. What she needed was to feel safe in a work environment.

She entered Hotch's office (empty, surprisingly) and dropped her badge on his desk. Then, she walked down to her desk, eyes glued to the floor so as to not see anyone's name plates or paperweights that might make her miss them. She brought in a box big enough to carry the few things on her desk: a photo of her and Beck, her name plate, some pens and pencils, and any documents that she needed to have with her in the future.

As she reached underneath her desk for her go bag, the lights flickered on above her and Hotch's voice drifted from the doors of the office.

"Is there no way I can get you to reconsider?"

Lydia didn't bother turning to look at him, throwing her bag over her shoulder and making sure that there was nothing left for her in the drawers of her desk. "I told you I didn't want to speak to any of the team. That includes you."

"What is it, Lydia?" he demanded, his voice growing closer as he approached. "Has something happened to make you feel unwelcome?"

"You're the profiler," she grumbled, picking up her cardboard box and finding herself face to face with her old unit chief. "Agent Hotchner-"

"Hotch, Lydia. Just Hotch."

She swallowed, not wanting to use the old nickname and give off the impression that she could be convinced to stay. "I loved working for you. But I just… I need to learn when things are unhealthy for me. I did the FBI thing. Now I need to move on."

His eyes landed on her belongings, looking at how little she had to pack up after working for them for a year and a half. "Keep in touch, yeah?"

Lydia shrugged, brushing him off. "You'll probably see me working as a waitress or bartender somewhere nearby." He gave her a stern look, prompting her to take back her snarky response. "Seriously, don't worry. I can manage. I always have."

"What do you want me to tell the others?" he asked, pointing to her now freshly clean desk.

"Whatever you want. Tell them I quit. Tell them you fired me… or you know, whatever you do to stop seeing a private contractor. Tell them I died in a fiery plane crash." Finally, she stepped around him and marched off. "They won't remember me in two months anyway."

She didn't think he'd be able to hear her comment, but as she was approaching the doors into the BAU lobby, he called out to her.

"Hey, Lydia?"

"Mhm?"

"That's how you got this job," he insisted. "You're pretty unforgettable."

She shook her head and let the door slam shut behind her.

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Morgan was the first person to notice the next morning. He had his head propped up with one of his fists, distractedly checking his email and his eyes wandered to Lydia's desk. His first thought was: I hope she's doing okay…

She's been in California a long time…

Doesn't her picture frame normally sit there…

Wait, where's all her stuff?

It was deeply startling to see that her desk was clean as a whistle. His eyes wandered around the room, to see if anyone else had noticed or if maybe her stuff had been moved elsewhere, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary.

He wondered if he should ask the others. Maybe he hadn't been paying attention and someone had put everything in her drawers to protect them while she was gone. Silently, he stood up, approaching the desk and opening one of the drawers. It was clean. He opened another. Also empty.

Emily caught his eye, her eyebrow raised as if to ask what he was doing, but he simply held up a finger and walked up to the catwalk to see Hotch.

He knocked softly on the doorframe before walking in.

"Hey, Hotch. I just noticed that Lydia's desk has been cleared out. Did you move it for some reason, or…?"

Hotch had to clear his throat before answering. "Ambers came by last night to gather her things and make her official resignation from the BAU."

"She what?" he demanded. "Hotch, you weren't going to tell us that she resigned? What happened?"

"I wasn't aware she was planning on it," he admitted. "I spoke to her about it and she seemed pretty adamant that she wanted to be somewhere else."

"Is she going back to California?"

"It didn't sound like it. But that's something you need to ask her."

"Yeah, I will," he snapped.

Stepping outside, Emily was already halfway up the catwalk to see what was going on. Morgan didn't say anything, just dialed Lydia's number and stood there, clearly upset.

"Hi, this is Lydia Ambers. Sorry that I missed you, but if it's important, leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as possible. Thanks!"

"What the hell, Lydia? You disappear in the middle of a case for a month, you resign without warning, and now you're not answering our calls? What happened to you, kiddo? I know you wouldn't just drop off the face of the earth willingly… Call me back."

As he returned his phone to his pocket, Emily waved a hand in front of him. "Hey, what's going on? Lydia resigned?"

He nodded. "Hotch just told me. Cleaned out her desk last night when no one was here. Something's not right about this picture."

"Yeah, no kidding," Emily mumbled. "She was so friendly. Has she ever disappeared like this before?"

"No. Lydia's been working with us for so long now. She loved her job. Something happened. Something big."

Spencer tried his best not to look like he was eavesdropping, but sat perfectly still so that he could hear as much of what Morgan and Emily were saying as possible. Lydia had resigned. She really had just left the BAU.

He knew he had acted stupid. So… so stupid. He went through these awful mood swings now, sometimes missing her so much he couldn't stop his tears. Other times he was angry at her for leaving so soon… but maybe that was just his own stubbornness.

He never could convince himself to call her. To say anything to her, really. There weren't words to express what he was going through right now. Not ones that she would accept, anyway.

He considered himself a murderer. A drug addict. He didn't deserve her love even if he could gain it back.

Perhaps her leaving was good. He didn't have to anxiously anticipate facing her again. But she didn't deserve to lose the life she spent the last year making for herself because he couldn't stop himself from being an asshole.

How long could this "I'm just having a hard time recovering" act go on for?


Not too long, it seemed.

Reid could feel Prentiss's eyes on him for the next few days, trying to gauge his reaction to the news that Lydia was gone. Garcia too, but he didn't see her around as often Emily.

As they set out for their next case, he tried to separate himself from her as best he could, but she seemed to want to do the opposite. And with all the stress of escaping her, he started making others suspicious.

First, he snapped at her on the jet, causing Hotch to insist they work together. Then, the station was loud, as the whole city was undergoing major constructional changes. Mapping out the area only kept him busy for so long and he found himself staring at it in order to prevent the others from bothering him. And then, of course, Gideon had to send him to a homeless shelter with- you guessed it- Emily.

He did his best to act natural, but every glance, comment, and movement from her was rubbing him the wrong way.

They located Angie, one of the administrators of the homeless shelter, as she handed out food. As she explained to them, how many people were tossed onto the streets as the construction workers tore down apartment buildings and homes, he started getting antsy. Impatient. This was supposed to be a quick interview.

Emily had started to compliment the woman when he lost his temper. "Well, thank god there are people like you who take the time-"

"Do you have a list of everyone who comes through here?"

Both the women looked startled at his interruption, but Angie was quick to comply. "Uh, we have a sign-in sheet, but we don't force anyone to sign if they don't want to. Some who do don't even use their real names. 'Elvis' eats here a lot."

"We would appreciate any lists you have," Emily informed her.

"Why?"

"Have you noticed anyone who acts unusually aggressive towards the other residents?" he asked, ignoring her question, but she didn't let up.

"What's this about?"

"A series of murders in the area," he responded quickly. "The perpetrator may be a homeless man. Maybe someone who stays here. He may even be in this room as we speak."

Emily's head snapped towards him. "Reid!" she hissed.

"Have you noticed anyone who acts paranoid or displays explosive, unprovoked bursts of violence, more than just pushing and shoving- I mean, someone who really tries to harm others."

Angie looked extremely overwhelmed. "There are territorial fights over food and places to sleep. The nurse treats people for minor injuries all the time, but no one's seriously hurt."

"If anyone does come to mind, give us a call. Thank you." He handed her his business card, then left, not checking for Emily, who apparently, didn't follow him.

He stood outside for a moment, watching the homeless pass to get inside. He shouldn't have done that. It was rude. But he felt like crawling out of his own skin, just being on this case.

Not that he couldn't have assumed she'd be angry, but the force with which Emily threw open the door as she left the shelter confirmed it.

"There's a high presence of mental disorders with the homeless," he noted, hoping to distract her from the issue.

"What the hell was that in there?"

"What?"

"'He may even be in this room as we speak'?" she quoted. "We have nothing to support that!"

"We're investigating a serial homicide. Should I have pretended there was no danger?"

"We just left that woman potentially afraid of every man who walks into this shelter!"

He crossed her arms. "Again, until we find this unsub, how is that a bad thing?"

Her face changed from one of confusion to one of disgust. "What is the matter with you?"

God damnit. "What do you mean, 'what's the matter with me'?"

"I've never seen you act like this."

"Oh, really? Oh, in the months that you've known me, you've never seen me act this way?" he snarled. "Hey, no offense, Emily but you really don't know what you're talking about, do you?"

"Is this about Lydia?" she demanded. "About her disappearance-?"

"Don't act like you think you know me!" he said again, his voice raising considerably. "You presumed a lot about me from the start and then you went and told Hotch things you didn't understand."

"Told Hotch-? I haven't said anything to Hotch!"

"Oh yeah? Really, so his wish to discuss my relationship with another member formerly on this team was just out of curiosity? You didn't perhaps tell the whole Bureau that Spencer had a schoolgirl crush on his friend just to laugh at me?"

"I never told anyone-"

"Whatever," he interrupted once more. "She's gone. And frankly, the Bureau didn't need to waste the money on her anyway."