A/N: You guys convinced me, I'm continuing!

Spencer was restless for the rest of the night, his breathing becoming erratic at one point; so irregular that Hotch actually had to consider calling an ambulance. The air just wouldn't enter his agitated lungs that he had tortured for the past two weeks by waking up screaming. He'd even developed a nasty cough somehow, and Hotch was pretty sure he had stopped taking care of himself all together. When the light in the room was finally too bright to ignore, Aaron got up from his place on the recliner and headed to the kitchen without a word. He rummaged through the poorly stocked cabinets and refrigerator until he was able to produce enough food to suffice the two of them. Half stale cereal, two eggs, oatmeal, and a loaf of bread that had some green slices. He took the ones without the mold, wondering how long the wheat product had been sitting on the counter; deciding that he didn't want to know.

The next task at hand was getting Reid out of bed, which was a big challenge. Depression had set in pretty deeply, and Spencer often had zero motivation to greet the day. 'What's the point?' he once said, his face buried deep in his fluffy pillow, 'not like anything good is going to happen today.' Hotch grabbed his cell and texted Rossi, telling him to call if they had a case, but otherwise he wasn't coming in. Dave knew what was going on, Aaron had confided in him when his constant lack of sleep demanded he share this burden with someone else. Dave had listened slightly, rubbing a hand over his facial hair and raising his eyebrows in surprise. Spencer was losing it, worse than he ever had before; and now Hotch wasn't sure they could save him. Even the ever-optimistic David Rossi was doubting their ability to pick up all the broken pieces of their friend.

Aaron dropped the phone back on the table, not caring that it landed with a thud; and headed down the hallway. Determined, he pulled the covers from over Spencer's head, swallowing back his guilt when the skinny man tried to bury himself back under the covers. "Please let me sleep, Hotch," he protested, shying away from Hotch's hands as they tried to get a hold on him.

"You aren't sleeping, and if I let you stay here; you'll never get up," he argued, reminding himself he was doing the right thing when Spencer flinched as he dragged him to his feet. He had exhausted every other method of getting him out of bed, and tough loved seemed to be the only thing that got the job done. He did have a difficult time ignoring the flinches and whimpers whenever he touched him. He kept telling himself that Spencer was done, mentally. He'd been tortured for most of his life, and he just couldn't ignore it anymore; it had nothing to do with him personally. Reid was a physical person, and having someone in his personal space when he didn't initiate it wasn't something he appreciated. Regardless, Hotch carefully set him down at the kitchen table and set to work at making them something to eat.

Spencer looked on silently for a few minutes before clearing his throat, "Next time I call you, please don't come." The request was new, and it worried him.

"Why not?" He couldn't face his friend.

"Because, it's not going to fix anything. You don't have to keep coming over here and watching me," Spencer said weakly. He was giving up, but he needed Hotch to first. Was he looking for him to agree to letting him go?

"You are going to get better," Hotch said with conviction, listening to the eggs sizzle as they hit the pan.

"I'm not," his voice broke, "My head won't stop hurting, and now I'm seeing things. I hear things too sometimes."

Hotch gritted his teeth tightly, "You're stressed out, Spencer. You're depressed, and you miss Emily."

Suddenly, Spencer was standing next to him, leaning against the counter, "I do miss her, very much." It was the first time he'd admitted it out loud, and Hotch felt like they had made a small breakthrough.

"I know you do, I do too. She wouldn't want you doing this to yourself though, not for her." Spencer hung his head, his shaggy hair falling in front of his eyes.

"I think I was in love with her," another break through.

Aaron waited a moment, choosing his words carefully. This was a tender subject, and he knew that if he said the wrong thing, Reid would pull away completely. "You never told her?" He said casually, showing no emotions towards his honesty. If Reid saw any trace of pity or felt belittled, this would be over.

"No, but I felt like she knew. I wanted her to know, and now she never will." Hotch breifly wondered how angry Reid would be with him if or when Emily came back and the truth came out that him and J.J. knew all along. Chasing it away, Hotch slid the eggs onto a nearby plate.

"Spencer, the thing about love is that it doesn't have to be spoken, as long as it's felt," he finally found the courage to look into the other mans eyes. They were wide, innocent, and vulnerable; they reminded him of his first year on the team.

"Do you think she felt that I loved her?" his voice sounded pathetically hopeful, as if Hotch's answer would be solid enough to fix this. Maybe Reid could trick himself into pretending it was enough, as if Hotch's answer had come from her herself.

Something in Aaron's chest burned, and he wondered if it was his sanity, "Yes. I think if someone really does love someone else, the other people can feel it; even if that someone doesn't express it clearly." Reid was quiet then, and Hotch could almost see the gears turning in his abused mind. Hotch let him think, setting the poor excuse for a breakfast down on the table and guiding Reid back to the chair. Mechanically, Spencer ate everything Hotch put in front of him; it was the first thing Spencer had eaten without prompting, and Hotch mentally ticked off another victory.

"Can I have something of Emily's, maybe?" Reid asked slowly, unsure if he was crossing some sort of line by asking. "Nothing big, just something that smells like her, and I can look at and see her?"

The question took every ounce of faith Hotch had managed to cling too and crushed it, and he swallowed his own tears, "I'll look into what she had and try to find something perfect for you." Spencer managed a tight, forced, smile; one that wasn't as scary as the one from the night before, but it was just as broken.

"Thank you, I hope she wouldn't mind," he said absentmindedly.

"I don't think she would, I think she'd give you everything if that meant you'd be okay again."

They finished eating in silence.