Empty Beds

“They can’t just take you away.”

-

Spencer had called earlier in the day to tell Lydia that he wouldn’t be back in Virginia until late that night, and wouldn’t be able to leave Quantico until even later, but despite this Lydia still insisted that Spencer was welcome to stay the night at her place. The suggestion immediately made him blush, even if he knew that she hadn’t been suggesting anything. He was twenty-seven, nearly twenty-eight, years old and yet still blushed at the idea of spending the night with a woman – this realization only increased his embarrassment. Plus, the fact that he was taking solace in the jet’s miniscule bathroom to call her so that Morgan and Prentiss wouldn’t overhear (and proceed to harass him about his post-work hour plans for the rest of the flight) was even worse.

Spencer managed to sputter out a response before quickly saying goodbye a moment later, trying to ignore Lydia’s laughter on the other end of the line. Despite the fact that they both knew that she hadn’t been implying anything by her suggestion, she knew exactly what his expression must have been. Lydia found it both endearing and hilarious; Spencer didn’t find it quite as amusing. Still, the sound of her laugh was infectious enough to force a small smile to his face.

But when Lydia opened her door hours later it was obvious that something had changed in the hours since they’d last spoken. Spencer looked absolutely defeated, his shoulders slumped and eyes vacant. Lydia didn’t say a word, simply took his hand and gently pulled him inside. This seemed to be one of the situations were words proved unnecessary, Lydia decided, and so left their silence unbroken as they walked toward the couch. She opted instead to turn off the TV and went to turn some water on for tea.

She returned to the room a few minutes later with two mugs, unsurprised to see Spencer in the same exact position as he was when she’d left. He took the mug with a nearly silent murmur of thanks but made no move to take a sip. Lydia only nodded in response, deciding that until he felt ready to talk she’d return the silence. If Spencer was paying more attention he’d have appreciated this, he’d probably have smiled and then attempt to make conversation, but Spencer’s minds was all too preoccupied. But Lydia understood this, she wasn’t offended or put off, only worried about what exactly had happened to get this kind of reaction from him.

“JJ left.” He finally spoke, his tone just as defeated as his posture. She merely squeezed his hand softly in response, looking up to meet his eyes but found his gaze focused on the far wall. “Out of nowhere, completely out of our control: one day everything’s normal and the next she’s handing in a final evaluation. I just… I know she’s not gone for good but it feels like it. She’s part of the team, she’s been with the BAU ever since I started and we all depend on her, but then they just took her away.” Spencer began more and more frustrated as he went on, finally standing up and beginning to pace by the end. Lydia just stayed silent, unsure of what to say to provide any comfort. There wasn’t anything she could say, truthfully, nothing she could say would make JJ return. So instead she just took his hand again, pulling him back over to the couch.

“Sorry,” he finally mumbled, still pointedly avoiding her eyes. For the first time in a long time, Lydia was unsure of how to phrase her thoughts, so at that point she pulled his face toward hers, hoping desperately that her eyes could at least accurately convey the sincerity that she felt. It worked, somewhat at least, and Spencer tried to smile but it ended up looking more like a grimace. It was better than nothing though, Lydia decided, so she hoped it didn’t seem insensitive when she kissed him a moment later. Spencer didn’t seem to mind, quite the opposite really, so Lydia took that as another positive sign. Despite his raging thoughts Spencer couldn’t help but loose himself a bit, mentally noting that this would probably be a usual occurrence after long trips – this, at least, was a comforting thought.

“I missed you,” Lydia whispered a few moments later, finally managing to get a smile from him in response. Spencer didn’t need to say it back for her to know he missed her too, the way his hands had clutched her face a moment ago had said it all. She was reminded once again of how much she liked the little things he did; it was always the little things he’d do that caught her attention the most. She liked that she could understand him so well at one moment yet was left in completeawe by his mind in the next. While Spencer was convinced that she’d get bored of him soon enough, Lydia knew she never would.

“I missed you too,” he said anyways, mostly just so that she’d smiled again. Lydia couldn’t help but laugh a bit though, as these types of exchanges would always induce an eye roll or two if she were seeing it in a movie or reading it in a book. The table’s turned, she realized, it doesn’t seem false and revoltingly romantic anymore, in fact hearing Spencer say it made her swoon a bit. Although, he could probably start reciting pitiful attempts of romantic poetry at her and she’d still find it incredibly endearing. Yes, she realized, the tables have definitely turned now. Spencer was the exception; Lydia didn’t care if that made her slightly hypocritical.

-

Spencer woke in the middle of the night with a start, instantly forgetting about what his dream had been about and instead focusing on figuring out where the hell he was and why his head felt as if it were being split in half. The room was practically pitch black, just barely illuminated by a few glimmers of light that got through the blinds. It was just enough light for Spencer to recognize the contrast of Lydia’s messy blonde hair on the pillow beside him, standing out in comparison to the comforter that was practically pulled up over her head. The sight would usually have made him smile but the pain in his head drown out any other thoughts aside from finding aspirin.

Lydia didn’t even stir when he crept out of bed, setting out blindly into the dark in search of the door. Eventually he found the handle, only to realize he now had to navigate all the way to the bathroom. He knew the light would only make the pain worse, but once he managed to hit his shin and stub in toes numerous times in the process, he started to wonder which pain would be worse right now. While Spencer usually tried to refrain from cursing, manners were being completely ignored at the moment.

“Goddamnit,” he cursed rather loudly when his foot hit a pile of books, sending him falling against the closest wall. Lydia finally woke up at that, confused for a short moment then quickly noticing Spencer’s absence next to her. She heard him stumbling around a moment later, followed by more curses, and set off to see what was wrong.

Spencer was searching blindly through the bathroom when Lydia walked in, his eyes narrowed as much as possible against the light. Lydia instantly caught on, handing him the bottle of aspirin just a moment later. He swallowed the pills dry, knowing that they wouldn’t set in for at least another twenty minutes, if at all. Aspirin usually proved to be useless for Spencer, but he knew better than to ever use anything with a stronger dosage.

“Let’s go back to bed,” she whispered, taking his hand and pulling him back towards her bedroom. He followed behind wordlessly, knowing he wouldn’t get any sleep for the rest of the night but finding no other option than to simply lay awake. She was worried, that was obvious, but her mind was too focused on going back to sleep for her to really understand just how bad the pain was. Despite wanting to comfort Spencer, Lydia could help but fall back asleep only fifteen minutes later. As much as he almost envied that ease, he didn’t complain or even make a sound, simply wrapped an arm around her waist once she’d curled up against him. He wished he could enjoy it, he wanted to focus on how warm she was and how her hair tickled his chin, but the pain was paralyzing.

Migraines were very few and far between for Spencer, it had been exactly three years, nine months and sixteen days since he last had one, but none had come on as quickly or as forcefully as this had. It was strange but Spencer didn’t dwell on it, he couldn’t dwell on anything for too long without the pounding in his temples increasing: he was reminded of the famous Kurt Vonnegut story Harrison Bergeron: every time he tried to focus on a thought the pain would increase and seemingly shatter it, leaving his mind just a mess of haphazard fragments.

But as much as he wished the pain away, Spencer found himself watching the light from between the cracks in the blinds slowly change color and intensify. By five thirty the room was beginning to fill with a faint orange hue from the rising sun. By six thirty am the sun was up but his migraine was still going strong, his thoughts still scattered and his eyes now bloodshot. By seven thirty Lydia began to stir, blinking blearily and stretching in a rather cat like manner. Spencer tried his best to crack a smile but it came off as more of a grimace, prompting a furrowed brow and frown from Lydia.

“Do you want some more Advil?” He shook his head slowly, the medicine had absolutely no effect the night before so he decided not to bother, he’d only get his hopes up to find nothing once again. Lydia nodded, slipping wordlessly from the bed and off into the hallway. Minutes later Spencer heard noises in the kitchen and assumed that she was making some sort of breakfast for them. Even if he was in his right state of mind it would be no use for him to join her, he remembered, as he’d even pink promised her last time to stay a far distance from the room when she was trying to cook. Lydia couldn’t understand why someone with an IQ of 187 could possibility have difficultly cooking simple pancakes but Spencer was always proving her wrong it seems.

Twenty minutes later Lydia returned with two plates of pancakes and two mugs of coffee in hand. Despite being rather clumsy she’d managed to hold a waitressing job throughout high school, so while everyday tasks (even walking sometimes) proved to be hazardous, she could balance an armful of trays with ease. Spencer managed to really smile this time, gratefully taking the food from her. “If you ever plan on sleeping in this bed again you better make sure not to get any crumbs or syrup on my sheets, okay?” He even laughed this time, his smile widening when she leaned forward to give him a quick kiss. Her mouth tasted like waffles and coffee, a strange combination but pleasant nevertheless.

“You know, I could really get used to this.” Lydia commented later on as they washed the dishes together. Spencer glanced over at her, confused at what exactly was so appealing about washing dishes. “Not the dishes, wonder boy, just…this: falling asleep with you, waking up next to you, breakfast in bed, lazy days, holding hands – to you, to us.” He stared at her for a long moment after that, still smiling but looking a bit confused. His head was still pounding but he managed to ignore it, focusing entirely on her words and just what they meant. Lydia almost laughed at the sight of him, mostly because of his facial expression but the fact that his arms were still elbow deep in dish water made the sight all the more amusing to her.

“I think this is the part where we’re supposed to kiss passionately, right?” she finally whispered, hoping for a bit of comic relief. That seemed to break Spencer from his slight daze, his cheeks flushing and a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “So does this mean we’re together-together?” He finally asked, a rather dumb question for a genius to ask. Lydia thought so too, not even bothering to hold in her laughter this time. “You think I’d make just anyone breakfast in bed?” He laughed again, finally taking her advice and leaning forward to kiss her.

He could get used to this too, he decided, although on the other hand he never wanted to get too used to it so that it could never get old. But Lydia’s kisses would never get old, he decided a moment later; he’d never get too used to how soft her skin is, or the feeling of her curls between his fingers. The thought had him doing just that, getting a similar reaction from Lydia in turn. Lydia couldn’t help but notice that all of their cooking endeavors seemed to somehow lead to this, although she surely wasn’t complaining at all.

Soon enough they ended up back in her bedroom, although without all the clothes littering the floor there wasn’t an awkward fall to stop them short. “Are you sure about this?” She asked before it got too far, immediately catching Spencer off guard. He stared at her with mild confusion, unsure if this was trick question of sorts that women used. “Are you?” he countered, unsure of how else to responds to the question correctly. She just laughed, nodding and deciding that was a good enough answer for her.

An hour later they found themselves curled up together on her couch, neither paying too much attention to the documentary on the television. They were both still a bit mildly dazed, both completely content and comfortable with just laying together now. Spencer’s headache had even decreased considerably, left as just a dull and, for the most part, an ignorable pain. He supposed that was due to the release of endorphins, in which case wouldn’t mind if these headaches became a usual occurrence if sex was the solution. Lydia just laughed sarcastically when he voiced this, rolling her eyes and shooting back a witty remark that he didn’t quite catch. So he just shrugged, turning his attention back to the TV just smiling when she rested her head back on his chest. Yes, he could definitely get used to this.

Still, nothing lasts forever. By six o’clock that night Spencer heard his phone ringing in the other room, knowing immediately that he was being called in on a case. Despite spending half the day on the couch he wasn’t quite ready to get up, especially now that Lydia had managed to fall asleep on him yet again. Still, he had a job to do and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t just let his phone ring on and on.

“Sorry,” he whispered as he pulled himself from underneath her, slipping a pillow underneath her head. Within five minutes he was redressed and ready to go, stopping only to kiss Lydia just one more time. “You’re lucky you’re worth it, sleeping alone sucks.” Lydia mumbled, still half asleep and barely coherent. He was lucky, Spencer thought to himself as he left the apartment, how he’d managed to find someone like her he’d never know. He reminded himself not to question it, simply be grateful and never take it for granted. Meanwhile, Lydia found herself grabbing another pillow from the floor, attempting to make a replacement but coming up short. Just a few days at the most, she reminded herself; he’d be home before she knew it. Life goes on and she went with it, Lydia reminded herself, but in the back of her mind she knew it would be a long week.