A/N: I'm FINALLY back on track. My head can be a REALLY annoying thing sometimes. (groans and winces) I'm so, so sorry about the delay! I HATE making you guys wait. (pouts)

BUT, first… Thank you so much for those fantastic reviews! (glomps) They're really, truly precious to me, ya know? They gave me the kick on the butt I needed to get this chapter done. So thank you!

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) Now, it's time to jump on with the story, no? I REALLY hope this turns out worth the wait!

'Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.'

(Joanne Kathleen Rowling)

Acceptance

/ Some people claim that there's a way for us to know when our time to go has come. Spencer had never believed in that. Not until the day of his death.

It was almost morning as he entered his home, instantly switching on the small lamp placed close to his door. Deep in thought he dropped his jacket and headed towards the kitchen, his entire being screaming out for coffee.

That was until he noticed the scent that didn't belong into his apartment.

Honey, and cinnamon. Neah told him, once in the darkest hours of the night, that her father always held that scent.

Spencer's blood froze to his veins. And then he moved, hurrying the preparations. Finally he wrote down a hasty note – desperate words of warning – then left as fast as he could.

Before she went underground, Neah and Spencer agreed on a place where they could leave messages for each other. It was a bridge on which they'd stood at the end of their very first date, observing how water streamed below in a endless flow. For obvious reasons that place wasn't used often, but in Spencer's opinion tonight was definitely a case of emergency.

He was just fastening the note to where no passer-by could see it when he caught the scent once more, soon followed by a realization that he wasn't alone. His hold on the piece of paper went slack. Wind caught the note, carrying it along without a hint of mercy.

He heard the sound of a gun's safety being released at the exact time Waylon Leeds spoke. "You can't even imagine how long it took before I found out that you're the one responsible for hiding my daughter." The man clicked his tongue. "Jesus, kid… I can't believe you're a agent."

Spencer straightened his form slowly, then turned to face the other man. The look in Waylon's eyes made him shiver slightly, and his mouth turned painfully dry. He lifted his hands although he already knew it'd be of no use. "I'm not going to let you find her."

Waylon smiled like a predator that had its pray cornered. "Yes, you are. Because if you won't…" The gun was pointed directly at his head. "… I won't hesitate going after that team of yours – one member after another, until you give me what I want." And then, faster than he could even blink, the man was stood before him. He only noticed a slight jab of pain until he realized that there was a small amount of blood on his forehead, where the man just struck.

Waylon smiled, showing him a large ring that had some droplets of blood on it. "My daughter… She used to have one like this, until she became unworthy of it." The man pointed towards his own forehead, where a heart shaped scar could be seen despite the lack of light. "She gave me this, you see. She should've known I won't let such go unpunished." The gun was pointed at him once more. "Now… Give me the location, or I won't hesitate to show you how serious I am about punishments. It's the lives of your team members in the line, as well as yours."

Spencer swallowed, all breath leaving him. "I won't let you gamble with their lives." His throat was so tight it hurt to talk. "And, as for me…" He licked his lips, more out of reflex than because of nervousness. "I guess you're going to kill me either way", he pointed out.

Waylon's lips didn't give an answer, nor did the chillingly calm hand holding the weapon. But those eyes… They said a lot.

Spencer stared at the man before him, found his gaze locking with those hard, greedy eyes. And suddenly he knew for sure.

There was no way out. He was going to die, one way or another. That choice wasn't in his hands anymore. But he still had the power to choose if he was going to take those he loved the most with him.

DeAnna and Neah… They were still alive. He'd sworn to protect them, and so far he'd managed to do just that. And his team… He wasn't going to let Waylon get to them, not before they got his clues. He wasn't about to stop fighting now. Not when he could still give them all a chance. And even at that moment of utter despair that was a thought he could accept.

He was the only one who knew where his two most precious people were. It was because of that secret his team – family – was threatened. If he'd be taken out of the equation…

Yes. He'd always been good at math. He didn't always like it.

So, under Waylon's disbelieving eyes, he stepped to the slippery railing, then held his hands high once more. It was stunning, really, that his legs were completely stable. Perhaps his body was in a state of shock. The sound of his heart thumping echoed in his ears.

"Hey!" Waylon's voice held a clear edge of uncertainty, and he could tell it drove the man insane. Suddenly all control had been ripped from the man's hands. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

To his own surprise Spencer smiled. Because he didn't see Waylon Leeds there before his eyes. "If you would've ever cared about anyone…", he breathed out, feeling utterly exhausted all of a sudden. The thumping of his heart increased, as though it'd been preparing for the final sprint. "… you'd understand."

Waylon's mouth opened, but he didn't pause to listen. He took a deep breath, one that filled his whole mind with Neah's scent, then took a step into the emptiness.

And he fell.

Fell until something grabbed his wrist, so suddenly and hard that he emitted a small cry of pain as searing agony crept through his arm.

Waylon's eyes burned while the man held on to his wrist with all his might. "Oh no. You're not going to put an end to this. Not until you've told me where my daughter is. I'm not going to let you fall."

A chilling amount of peace and clarity filled Spencer as his mind already drifted into some place far away. Quite vaguely he noticed how the other man's arm shook while trying to hold on to him. "You won't be able to stop it", he pointed out. "You won't be able to hold on to me forever."

He was right. Of course he was right. A look of pure agony, rage and frustration appeared to Waylon's eyes when the man's hold first began to slip, then broke completely. And there was nothing to stop Spencer from crashing into the black nothingness. He fell, fell and fell, for what felt like eternity. Until suddenly something inside him cried out a warning, told him that the time had come.

There, less than a second before the impact that claimed his life, Spencer allowed his eyes to open halfway. What he saw there, illuminated by the cold lights of streetlamps, made him smile.

He knew nothing more. /

Derek couldn't think or even feel a thing as he let his car speed through the practically empty streets in nearly deserted parts of the city. He'd already felt far too much that night – he just couldn't stand more.

All of it – Neah, DeAnna, all the bits and pieces of the genius he'd had no idea of – were crashing down on him at once. It made him feel like he was losing Spencer all over again.

He grit his teeth, so hard that the taste of blood filled his mouth.

Spencer… He'd never get the chance to unite the two lives he'd led. He'd never get to see his daughter grow up. He'd never see the tiny family he'd left behind again. How the hell was any of that fair?

Blissfully unaware of how blurry his eyes were Derek frowned as something claimed his attention, pulled him forcefully from those bitter thoughts.

There were blue and red lights, only a slight distance away. What looked like a sea of them.

Half subconsciously he wiped his eyes with a harsh motion, hitting the brakes as fast as he could. The car emitted a slight screech for mercy under his violent motions.

Policemen in their uniforms were rushing in and out of the apartment building at his right, and along with them a group of paramedics navigated their way through to get inside. And in the middle of all the hassle William Reid stood absolutely still, a grave look on his ashen face.

Derek paid no attention to how or where he parked his car. The next thing he knew was that he was approaching William with steps that weren't far from hostile. Their eyes met, and all of a sudden he froze. For at that very moment he knew. "It's Neah, isn't it?"

William sighed, closing his eyes for a stretched moment. The man appeared ready to fall asleep standing up. The lines on his face answered far more forcefully than the words he eventually managed to squeeze out. "I already called agent Hotchner. But I think you should go there fast, before they take her away."

Derek didn't need to be told twice. His motions left no room for objections as he made his way inside, then towards the correct apartment. At some point he even managed to pull out his badge, it seemed, because he showed it to more people than he could count when they showed up to block his path. He didn't have to ask anyone which the correct apartment was. The steady stream of people led him quite well, as did the stains of blood. Cold spread through his veins as alarm rose, but nothing could've prepared him for what he faced when entering the apartment.

The blood… It seemed to be everywhere. There was also movement, so much that for a moment Derek actually feared he might end up trampled. Cops, paramedics and forensics were swarming all over the place. There was also the corpse of a man, lay only a couple of steps away from him, covered in blood that'd sprayed from a gunshot wound to the head. There were grim expressions on the faces of the professionals that put the poor soul into a bag, doing their job with perfectly steady hands.

Derek's attention, however, focused on none of those things. All he could see was the other body, slumped to a floor not all that far away. He was almost sure his heart stopped for a second or two while his eyes widened.

There was a gunshot wound on Neah's stomach, and he could tell from the paramedics' expressions that things weren't looking too good. She'd clearly lost a lot of blood. But against all odds her bleary eyes were halfway open. She was still awake.

Ignoring the suspicious looks sent his way, as well as the questions and orders barked out, he made his way to the barely conscious woman as fast as he could.

He answered the medics' questioning looks with showing his badge, then asked the question he'd been dreading with his eyes. The shake of a head he got as a response made everything inside him grow utterly cold.

Just then he felt a touch that made him shiver with surprise. Looking down he found Neah staring right back at him. She took a feeble hold of his hand and he could just tell how hard she tried to hold on.

He grit his teeth, trying his hardest to keep his composure. "I know it hurts, but everything's going to be okay. Just stay with me, okay? Keep your eyes open."

Neah breathed a couple of times, focusing with all her might, until she managed to speak in a voice he barely heard. "I… I got his side and arm. I got him."

Derek felt a lump of rage and something entirely different forming in his throat as he nodded, his mind spinning madly. "That's good. You did good. And we'll catch him, okay? DeAnna and you will be safe."

Neah's eyes spoke all necessary. He could tell she tried to hold his hand, to say something more, but she just didn't have the strength. Without saying a word he took her bloodied hand and gave it a firm squeeze, holding on for both of them. He couldn't tell if there was a response before she was already taken away, rushed towards the hospital. He couldn't rip his eyes from the blood that was left on the floor as she was taken away. He couldn't look away even though he felt sick to his stomach.

And then, just as his thoughts and emotions were about to spin out of control, he heard the dial tone of his cell phone. It was Penelope. He had to gather himself for a long moment before he dared to pick up. "Yeah?"

"I… I know that this is a horrible timing, but… DeAnna started crying as soon as you left, and she won't stop. I've tried all the tricks, but… I think she wants her uncle."

Somewhere in the middle of the chaos Derek realized that he had two options. To head out for a mindless chase after Waylon Leeds, or to hurry to Spencer's daughter. The decision was made faster and more effortlessly than he could've ever imagined. "I'll be there in a second."

The rest of the brief phone call was nothing but a blur to him, as was the route back to his car. It wasn't until he sat into the vehicle the emotions finally kicked in once more, with such force that he was sure they'd suffocate him. And at that moment he finally gave himself the chance to let it all out.

He punched the steering wheel with absolutely all his force, kept hammering until it felt like bones were fractured and blood stained his skin. Slowly but inevitably the dry, breathless heaves he kept delivering turned into first dry, then tear filled sobs.

It took what felt like forever before his head functioned well enough to produce coherent thoughts.

He hadn't been able to protect his best friend, the only brother he'd ever had. But he still had the chance to keep the genius' daughter safe, to make sure that Spencer's sacrifice wouldn't go to waste. And that was exactly what he'd do.

Pulled together with that thought Derek did what he'd been forced to do far too many times in his short life. He grit his teeth and pulled in a deep breath, pushed the sharp pieces floating around his chest together once more.

Then he started the car and drove away. And somehow he had a feeling that he wasn't alone.

All her life JJ had been forced to be a strong girl, a smiling child who couldn't be brought down by anything. But in the shadows of that endlessly long night she didn't have to be any of that, for the first time in her life.

And so, as she sat there on the bed she shared with Will and stared through the window, for the first time since Spencer's death it didn't hurt to breathe.

The following morning she'd call Aaron and Erin Strauss, and announce that she needed some more time off. Then Will would take her to see a psychiatrist called Paulina Weston. After that… she just didn't know. This time her life wasn't in her own hands.

But she wasn't afraid of the unknown. Not when she knew she'd be guarded and protected, by those still living and some who'd already passed on.

Comforted slightly by that thought she lay back down and snuggled closer to Will, letting one of her hands ghost above where his heart was beating determinedly. She wasn't surprised or startled when all of a sudden he took the hand and gave it a squeeze. He'd always been a light sleeper. After a one more deep breath she closed her eyes. For the first time since Spencer's death she wasn't afraid of falling asleep.

Maybe when she'd finally wake up from this nightmare to a life where nothing was the same anymore, when she was strong enough to face the world without one of her most precious friends, she'd be able to smile again. Maybe she'd even be able to tell Henry all about the godfather she would've wished from the bottom of her heart he would've had the chance to know.

She'd make damn sure both Spencer and her sister could look at her from up above and be proud of her, even if she now needed quite a bit of help.

That thought lulled her to sleep. Once again she dreamt of Spencer. This time not all of the dreams were nightmares.

When Aaron entered the hospital's waiting room he wasn't surprised at all to find William. The man appeared far paler than usual and incredibly tense while sitting there, his chin leaned to his balled fists.

Aaron took a second before approaching. "I just got a call from Morgan. Waylon's wounded – Neah managed to shoot him before he left the apartment. It's likely that he'll need to get patched up before he can keep running."

William nodded slowly, and for a moment he was sure the man hadn't even heard him. "He's too smart to come here. He's going to find someone who'll stay quiet."

Aaron nodded in his turn, glancing sharply to his side when a doctor came in. He focused on William once more when the doctor went to a elderly couple instead. "Both my team and yours are going through several possibilities." He hesitated for a moment before adding the rest, for some reason unsure if he wanted to share the piece of information with the other man. "Morgan went to see DeAnna. Garcia's babysitting her."

The look that appeared to William's face tore his heart because he could immediately understand the turmoil. All the guilt, sadness, rage and longing no earthly powers could soothe… It was the grief of a father who was slowly starting to realize that he'd lost absolutely everything. He could've sworn there were tears in those eyes for a moment. "I was the one who ordered him to hide everything. No one was supposed to know what he was doing. I told him to hide it, although I could tell it was killing him. I think he told Diana that she was a grandmother, but…" There was a slight pause. "I forced him to hide, until he disappeared from me. Do you know what's the worst part?" The man's voice drowned into choked gasps, and at that moment the walls that'd been kept up much too long came crashing down. The words whispered next were almost too quiet to be heard. "I had no clue of who Spencer really was. And it's my own fault."

Aaron wished he would've been able to open his mouth and say something, anything, to ease the other's obvious ache. But his lips remained glued together. And then a doctor entered the room, claiming all his attention.

The doctor was a man of his age with shortcut, somewhat messy brown hair and exhausted gray eyes. There was a grave look on his face.

The car was utterly, ominously silent as Emily and David made their way towards a address they'd just been given. According to the CIA it was one potential hideoutof Waylon's. The two of them had instantly offered to check it out.

Erin Strauss had given firm instructions that none of them would be allowed to do fieldwork yet, but Emily didn't care about the consequences of defying the woman. If this meant that Waylon would be caught, she was happy to sacrifice as much as her career.

This was the only fucking thing she could still do to help Spencer.

"Emily." David's voice was hoarse and far tighter than usual. He went on although she didn't move her eyes from the view outside the car's window. "Before we go in, there's something I need to ask you. And I need you to answer honestly." There was a pause while he took a harsh turn to the right. "If we actually find Waylon… What are you going to do to him?"

Her eyes smouldered and narrowed, and venom traveled through her with such force that made her shiver. "What the hell do you think I'm going to do?" Her eyes were as sharp as her tongue when she finally looked at him, saw the darkness in his eyes that'd never been there before. "I'm a profiler, so don't try to be hypocrite. I know you'd do the same thing."

David squeezed his mouth to thin line, not emitting a word.

And then they were there, parked outside a house that'd seen its best days years ago almost outside Quantico. Even though sun would rise soon hungry, decadentshadows danced around the house, luring them into its devious secrets as they climbed out of the vehicle and approached with caution. They exchanged firm looks before opening the door that'd almost fallen from its place and entering soundlessly.

The part of the house they could see immediately were utterly dark. There was no furniture, no proof of someone having been there. That was until Emily's eyes darted towards the floor. Her heart shuddered.

Droplets of blood, signaling towards stairs that led the way downstairs.

With a quick gesture she got David's attention and showed him what she'd found. The man nodded with a solemn expression. They both had hands on their guns as they began to move towards the stairs, then followed the route downstairs, constantly keeping their eyes open for traps. They were careful to step over the couple of wires that'd been set their way.

Finally, after what felt like a decade, they were there. A quick inspection proved that they were alone, and David dared to switch on a flashlight. The sight the light revealed made chills rise inside Emily.

On the floor was a bullet, along with quite a bit of blood. Blood that wasn't even dry.

Waylon Leeds had just been there. But that didn't change the bitter fact that they were hopelessly too late.

At that moment David swore, long, hard and colorfully. As a searing sensation took over her eyes Emily wanted to do the same.

In the headquarters Derek felt torn while holding DeAnna, very much aware of the fact that he was alone with the baby now that Penelope had gone to the bathroom.

A huge part of him screamed, howled, that he should've been chasing Waylon, to make the man pay for what he'd done to Spencer. But the rest of him felt that he was exactly where he was supposed to be. It felt right, in a bizarre way he couldn't explain, to have DeAnna emitting extremely adorable happy noises in his arms.

Somehow, deep down, he knew that this was far more important than getting revenge. And he had a feeling that this was what Spencer would've wanted. For now that was enough.

Making sure there was no one around to see what he was doing Derek freed one of his hands from the baby and searched through his pockets. It took a moment before he found what he'd been looking for. A inferno of emotions lit up inside him when he put the item gently to its place around DeAnna's neck.

A whistle.

He only managed to speak after hearing a clearly excited sound from the baby as she began to investigate the gift. "I… gave that to your daddy, a lifetime ago. He wasn't as happy about it as you are. It's to make sure you're safe, kid." He brushed the whistle with his fingertips. His eyes stung, but it passed by with a firm grit of teeth. "Just… Don't be as hardheaded as he was, okay? If you ever need help, with anything at all, don't hesitate to blow. Okay? Don't ever hesitate to ask me for help."

DeAnna looked at him, long and hard, with her eyes so serious that it felt out of place on her baby's face. Then she smiled, in that very same way Spencer once did, and took a firm hold of his finger.

Derek wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry, so he emitted a mixture of both. "I'm taking that as a promise", he managed.

"Hey." He almost jumped at the sound of Penelope's voice. There were traces of sleepless nights and tension on her face even when she gave him a slight smile. "What are you two doing?"

Derek focused on the baby once more, carefully hiding the whistle before the woman got the chance to see it. "Just waiting for news, baby girl." A slight frown crossed his face. "Any word from Hotch yet?"

"Not yet." The silence stretched until Penelope spoke once more. "We will catch him – he won't be able to run away forever. They never do. You know that, right? We'll make damn sure he won't be able to steal away anyone else."

Derek's jaw tightened as he nodded. He really, truly hoped Penelope was right.

All three of them were slightly startled when his cell phone started ringing all of a sudden. It was Aaron. Derek was fast to pick up. "How is she?" he demanded instantly.

A couple of seconds passed before Aaron spoke in a tone he'd never heard before. "She never made it off the table."

Outside the borderlines of the city, just past the roadblocks the CIA had had the time to build up, Waylon Leeds pulled his lungs full of fresh air and closed his eyes from the sunrays of a rapidly rising new day. At that very moment he felt lighter than he had in what felt like forever.

Neah was gone – one phone call from a disposable cell phone had been able to confirm that. He'd succeeded. Her punishment had been served.

Now, he was finally free to move on with his life. Now if only he'd manage to disappear fast enough. He suspected strongly that even his recently changed haircolor and the sunglasses he'd just put on wouldn't work as a disguise very long.

And he needed some damn painkillers, he decided and fought back a wince when the constant throbbing pain in his side intensified once more. It seemed Neah managed to be a thorn in his flesh even after her death.

He opened his eyes slowly to see a truck headed his way. He tilted his head, then took a step closer to the road.

Why not. He couldn't really be picky.

He lifted his thumb, and gave a grin that revealed his teeth when the truck first slowed down, then came to a stop almost right beside him.

'Acceptance is not submission; it is acknowledgement of the facts of a situation. Then deciding what you're going to do about it.'

(Kathleen Casey Theisen)

TBC, perhaps, for a epilogue.

A/N: Oh boy…! I can't believe that this is just about over. (gawks, then wipes eyes a bit)

PLEASE, do leave a review to let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Was it any good, at all? Or should I demolish it asap? Do leave a note to let me know! It'd mean a LOT, ya know? (gives puppy's eyes)

And hey, would you guys like to read an epilogue?

THE EPILOGUE WOULD BRING THE FOLLOWING: Time has passed, and several things are about to change. As several teammembers consider taking lifechanging steps, Waylon Leeds' shadow comes lurking in. Will they catch him? Will they be able to overcome the weight of sorrow and follow the paths Reid would've wanted them to take?

Until next time, folks, with whichever story that'll be! I really hope I'll be seeing ya around.

Peace out!

Avesona23: I'm sorry for being late, too! (winces) Sometimed my head just goes out of whack. It's really annoying.

Poor team, no? But at least now they know everything. (sighs)

I BET Spencer would've made Derek a goddaddy! Who would he have chosen, if not his best friend? (grins, then winces a bit) The poor thing! Soon we'll now how this story ends for all of them.

Hmm… I must confess bits and pieces with Spencer and Neah sounds tempting. Thank you so much for the request! (hugs)

GOSH! I'm beaming with pride over hearing that you enjoyed so many parts of the story. It truly means a lot, ya know? I REALLY hope the rest will please you just as much.

Monumental thank yous for the review!

C ya at Acceptance, I hope.