"If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you."
Joan Powers

Daisy was awoken by the sound of her front door rustling open. She yawned from her place on the couch, the open book sprawled across her chest clattering to the floor from the movement. The book, White Noise, fluttered to the ground and made her place unfindable, the pages flipping with the wind of motion.

Daisy looked to see Spencer shutting the door, his bag over one shoulder and an envelope in his hand. The rims of his eyes were stained the faintest of pinks, giving away that tears had been shed at some time in the past few hours. He stood in a slight slouch, his eyes cast to the ground, and Daisy stood, confused.

Her socked feet pitter-pattered across the wooden floor.

"Spencer?" she asked. Spencer looked up, his face crinkled in sorrow and his shirt wrinkled.

"Daisy," he greeted softly. He wiped at his eyes and Daisy raised a brow. Spencer walked past her, pulling his bag off of his shoulder and leaving it on their counter. Daisy watched her friend warily, playing with a loose string on her old cardigan, and noticed his slow movements as he made his way to the couch.

"Gideon's gone," Spencer said simply. He sat down on the couch, perched on the edge like he was ready to take flight, and put the letter in his lap. Daisy frowned and walked over to him.

"What?" she said. She took a gentle seat next to him and reached a hand to take his, but he flinched back from her, pulled back like he was overtaken by an unseen force.

"Gideon, he, uh, I went to his cabin," Spencer started. He did not look at her, staring straight ahead at the bookshelf kept along the far wall. "And I did not- I don't find him. All I found was a letter, uh, explaining."

Spencer stopped himself there, that unknown force once again taking hold of him. Daisy hesitated for a moment and then reached into his lap, taking the letter from him without protest. Spencer just kept starting, possessed by the force and unable to say anything else to her.

Daisy unfolded the letter, nervous, a piece of her heart knowing things became unchangeable with the reading of the letter. Daisy scanned the letter easily and her face fell as she realized what its contents said.

Gideon had left not just the BAU, but all of their lives. After Sarah's murder, he could not keep himself together, he could not do this job anymore. Be a profiler, or at least, one working cases. And it was addressed to Spencer because Gideon knew they would be the one to find them.

Daisy had never understood Spencer and Gideon's relationship. It was part mentor, part fatherly, part professional. Daisy went nearly everywhere with Spencer; they did near everything together. They were a team through and through, equal parts professional partners and close friends. But there was a distance in regard to Gideon. Spencer needed guidance, and Gideon had been there to provide it, and Gideon filled the hole Spencer's father had left behind, at least for this short time.

Daisy refolded the letter and inserted it back into the envelope. She put it back in his lap, and Spencer still did not move. She too remained in shocked silence, letting herself take in the news and what this meant for them and for the team.

Jason Gideon was perhaps the best profiler currently alive. He was a founding member of the B.A.U., alongside the now-retired David Rossi. Gideon had seen cases that Daisy could not even dare to imagine, had survived deaths of his fellow agents and attempts on his life by the dozen. But this…Frank and Jane. What had happened to Sarah. That had finally cut the man so deep the wound could not heal.

And where did that leave the rest of them? Were all of them destined to become so burned and jaded they could not carry on? How was the team supposed to go ahead now? Gideon often put the puzzle pieces together, rearranged the clues to the correct order to get them what they need. What were they to do now?

Daisy reached again for his hand, and this time Spencer did not pull away. Daisy held loosely onto his fingers; his skin soft beneath her hand.

"He…just left," Spencer said. Daisy squeezed his hand.

"I know," Daisy said. "I'm sorry." William Reid had decided that Spencer and his mother Diana was too much work. That a prodigy son and a schizophrenic woman were too much for him to handle. Spencer's pleadings and statistics hadn't mattered, William was gone. Just like that. One day in his life and the next vanished.

And now Gideon had done the same thing. Just left behind all those who cared for him. The letter was addressed to Spencer, the one person who would be hurt the most by his departure. It was cruel, in many ways. To make Spencer relive this all over again, to put him through the trauma ringer again.

"He didn't – he didn't even say where he was going," Spencer said. "He's just gone."

Daisy shut her eyes and let the cool air of the ceiling fan come over her. What could she say to make this right? Was there anything she could say to make this better? Daisy was no expert in comforting. Growing up, Drew was the one who always knew what to say. He was the twin with the power of words, she was the one with the powers of the brain.

But that did little to help her now. Now, she had a friend in pain. Her closest friend, her roommate and confidante. All she could think to say was 'I know' and 'I'm sorry'.

"I tried calling him, but he won't pick up," Spencer said. "He just vanished without a trace. And now-now he won't even answer my calls."

Spencer sniffed once and Daisy squeezed his hand again and tried to muster up some kind of magic word that would brighten her friend's spirits.

"It'll be okay, Spencer," Daisy tried. "Maybe- maybe he just needs time."

They both knew that wasn't true. Gideon's words had been final, his handwriting that of a man with determination and a language of someone who was not liable to have his mind changed. Gideon was gone. And he was not coming back, at least not soon.

Daisy let go of his hand and stood. Her words would be meaningless, they would be whatever they could come up with. Platitudes that she searched for, broken and slow. It would be of no help. But action, an action she could do.

Daisy walked into their small kitchen and opened their cabinet to retrieve their kettle. She set some water on to boil and retrieved the packets of tea from their cupboard. She pulled peppermint out – it was one of the best when it came to calming nerves, and it had a pinch of sweetness to it that Spencer would enjoy. Spencer always had a bit of a sweet tooth. If it was not the wee hours of the morning, she might have given him coffee, his preferred drink of choice, but she knew that would only make an upset Spencer worse at this time of night.

Daisy kept a careful watch on Spencer, who remained seated on the couch, still on his little perch. His shoes remained on and his eyes locked on the bookshelf. To relive trauma was a horrifying experience, and Daisy knew that Spencer's mind was working even faster than normal. Trying to make sense of it all, to understand the how and the why when there was no how and why to be had.

Daisy put the tea into two mugs – one her chipped Wonder Woman mug, the other a bright burgundy cup with a picture of poet Marianne Moore on it. Both were novelty gifts they received from the other the last Christmas holiday, and they had slowly become their go-to comforting cups.

Daisy retook her seat next to Spencer. She handed him the mug, which he took with limiting movement, his fingers twitching with nerves.

"Thank you," he whispered. Daisy nodded in acknowledgment and took a sip of her own tea. Growing up, all she had been exposed to was sweet-iced tea. Getting to know Spencer had opened herself to a whole new world of tea.

They returned to their moods of silence, carefully sipping tea as they danced around the issue of Gideon being gone. Their silence was a shield, a weak shield, but a shield nonetheless from letting Spencer go too far down into his emotions.

"Are you going to be okay?" Daisy asked, her light voice finally breaking the silence. Spencer hesitated and then reluctantly nodded.

"I guess," Spencer said. "I've- I've done this before."

Daisy's heart clenched, and she scooted closer to her friend. She put her cup down on a coaster (she hated the ring unattended cups left, she could not allow it) and retook his hand in her own.

"Before, you did it alone," Daisy said. "Bu-but I'm here. To listen. Or j-just sit with you." She squished his hand and pulled it so it sat in her lap. "I'm not leaving."

Spencer finally looked away from the bookcase and looked at her quizzically. Unbelief sat in his eyes, sad pain in the lines of his face. He did not fully believe her. Spencer had been promised before, promised him that they would not leave him. Daisy had faced her own pain, her own trauma, but she had never had to face this kind of pain of abandonment. Of deep rejection that made someone feel unlovable.

She reached to caress his face softly and smiled at him. Spencer did not back away, but he still held that look of disbelief and pain even as Daisy kept her eyes locked on him.

"I'm not leaving, Spencer," Daisy said. "I'm right here."

The pink around Spencer's eyes began to turn red, and she could see the pinpricks of tears begin to reform. She, without thinking, reached forward and pulled him into a tight embrace. As if holding him tight would repel that pain from him, would create a wall that would not let it pass.

Spencer began to cry in earnest, pulled into her shoulder and the droplets wetting the edge of her cardigan. She rubbed at his back comfortingly, hugging his shoulders as tight as she could, hoping that it would make him feel just a little bit better.

"He's gone," he breathed. "He's gone."

"I know," Daisy said. She ran a hand through his hair soothingly, her fingers tracing through the dark strands in their thick waves. "It's going to be okay. I promise."

Daisy was not sure how she was going to keep that promise, but she knew that was what she was supposed to say. Things would get better. You won't feel like this forever. How was she to keep a promise out of her control? Could she do that?

The best she could do was hold him and be here for her friend. Daisy knew that was the best she could do, and yet somehow it did not feel like enough. She needed to do something, something to fix this. But what was there to do?

Daisy just pulled Spencer tighter and supposed all she could do was hold him close for now. And let him be and let him feel.

"It's going to be okay."


Chater Bible Verse:

"Love not the world, nor the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world." 1 John 2:15-16

Do people still write Criminal Minds fanfiction? I hope so.

Questions, comments, or concerns? Let me know! Have a blessed day!

-PrincessChess