The Summer With Spencer
The Summer With Spencer, Chapter 26- Reunited
I paced for hours, waiting for SOME kind of contact from the team. I knew that I couldn’t just call them at their workplace, so I would have to wait. And so I did.
Derek called me around five o’clock. “Go outside, be ready when I pull up.” He told me. I did as I was instructed, and hopped in the vehicle when he pulled into the driveway. He turned to me with a solemn expression, “It’s Spencer. Now, don’t freak out, he’s okay now.” “Now ?” I asked. “He’s in the hospital.” “Well ? Spit out the whole story, NOW !” “While on the case today, he contracted anthrax,” Morgan said, looking over to gauge my reaction. I snapped my fingers at him; “Eyes on the road !” I ran my hand shakily through my hair. Thank God he’s okay. He’s okay, he’s okay, I kept telling myself, relieved. Above everything, at least he was okay.
I felt as though even though he was still sick, I had been cut a huge break for once. He had gotten to the hospital just in time. I looked over at his sleeping form, taking in his condition again. He had purple, bruise-like bags under his eyes, and his hair was matted with sweat. He claimed he felt much better than he looked, and I dearly hoped so. I stroked his hand, and he turned over, restless in his sleep, as he had been all day. I had been by his side for four hours straight, with Prentiss bringing me coffee every hour. Every team member had been in to visit him, and I knew they didn’t mind me hogging him, we had such little precious time left.
Suddenly Reid cried out in his sleep. He started waving at the air again, and twisting around. I jumped up, trying to wake him, still wary of the last time he had had a nightmare. Hotch heard the screaming and rushed in, waking him quickly. He was rougher with Spencer than I’d liked, but it got the job done. Spence sat up, gasping, his gown sticking to his sweaty chest. “It’s okay, I’m here.” I soothed him, smoothing his now wild hair down. He looked at me confused. “You’re in the hospital, sweetheart. Don’t you remember ?” I laughed a little at having to say that, what with his eidetic memory. The light outside the window was dwindling now, painting the pale blue sky with shades of lavender and velvety gray, as the night closed upon us. Slowly, the days would become shorter, the weather less and less warm, until brisk fall air was all that was left of the summer. With each passing day, I became more afraid, more anxious about leaving my friends behind in Virginia. Suddenly, I couldn’t imagine going home and doing all of the things I had once been content with; sitting endlessly on my computer, watching mindless television shows for hours on end, just sitting round with my friends, day after day. Because Spencer Reid had shown me what it was like to feel again.
As if looking into my thoughts, Spencer gripped my hand all the more tighter. I sat next to him on one side of his bed, and he scooted over to make room. “What are you thinking about Spence ?’ I asked him, even though I already knew. “You. Us.” He told me, turning his head to look right into my eyes. “Color my life with the chaos of trouble….” I murmured to myself. “That’s pretty accurate huh ?” I said, this time to Spencer. “Well, I wouldn’t really call your life troubled, more….riddled with bad luck, I suppose.” Was his reply. “That’s, um, eloquently put…” We bantered on and on like this for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. As weird as it sounds, that was one of my favorite nights with him.
Spencer was released late the next day, and sent home, with strict orders to take at least one day off from work, from both his doctors and Hotch. We spent the day together, naturally. We watched stupid 90’s movies, ate junk food, and lounged around. We stayed in our pajamas all day, and I could tell how pleased he was to just do something normal for once. His pajamas were hilarious; flannel button up, and long bottoms that hung off his thin frame. They were decorated with the FBI logo. And of course, he was wearing his signature two different colored socks; one lime green with dinosaurs, and the other purple with cats. My pajamas consisted of black basketball shorts and a tight red tank top. We were quite a pair.
Spencer’s POV
I looked up at Llysa, taking in her emaciated form. She was definitely looking more gaunt, and less healthy. Her cast had come off, and her right arm looked like a spaghetti noodle, pale and limp, but covered with scars. “What happened to you ?” I blurted out without thinking. “Why. Does. Everyone. Keep. Asking. Me.That !” She demanded to know. “Honestly, do I look that bad ?” she questioned, sounding angry. She started towards the door, “Maybe I should just…” she started to say, but I cut her off, jumping up and grabbing her arm. “No ! Stay with me. Please.” I begged her.
Her gaze flitted to the door and back to my pleading face. I wouldn’t meet her eyes. Derek backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. “I’m so, so sorry Spence. I really am. I was being juvenile, and-“ I cut me off by saying “ What ? I’m the one who should be apologizing, after everything you have been through just this summer, and then with everything I myself put you through…” She peeked up at me with mild surprise. “But Spence, you were the one who held me together, not the one who broke me. Despite everything that has happened recently, I knew that no matter what, I still had you.” I watched shiny, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She reached up to wipe them away, sitting on the floor and drawing in a ragged breath.
“Sometimes you don’t even know things have changed. You think you are still you, and your life is still your life, but you wake up one day, and you don’t recognize anything. Not anything at all,” She said aloud, looking at the floor. “I know exactly what you mean,” I whispered brokenly in response.
“What happened to us ?” She inquired to me. “Reality.” I told her. And in that moment, that could not have rung truer.
“Maybe we’re not supposed to be happy. Maybe gratitude has nothing to do with joy. Maybe being grateful means recognizing what you have for what it is. Appreciating small victories. Admiring the struggle it takes simply to be human. Maybe we’re thankful for the familiar things we know. And maybe we’re thankful for the things we’ll never know. At the end of the day, the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate, I guess,” She told me. “So, on a lighter note, did you miss me ?” She then asked me, sounding genuinely curious. “More than you know,” I said. “I missed you every minute."
Derek called me around five o’clock. “Go outside, be ready when I pull up.” He told me. I did as I was instructed, and hopped in the vehicle when he pulled into the driveway. He turned to me with a solemn expression, “It’s Spencer. Now, don’t freak out, he’s okay now.” “Now ?” I asked. “He’s in the hospital.” “Well ? Spit out the whole story, NOW !” “While on the case today, he contracted anthrax,” Morgan said, looking over to gauge my reaction. I snapped my fingers at him; “Eyes on the road !” I ran my hand shakily through my hair. Thank God he’s okay. He’s okay, he’s okay, I kept telling myself, relieved. Above everything, at least he was okay.
I felt as though even though he was still sick, I had been cut a huge break for once. He had gotten to the hospital just in time. I looked over at his sleeping form, taking in his condition again. He had purple, bruise-like bags under his eyes, and his hair was matted with sweat. He claimed he felt much better than he looked, and I dearly hoped so. I stroked his hand, and he turned over, restless in his sleep, as he had been all day. I had been by his side for four hours straight, with Prentiss bringing me coffee every hour. Every team member had been in to visit him, and I knew they didn’t mind me hogging him, we had such little precious time left.
Suddenly Reid cried out in his sleep. He started waving at the air again, and twisting around. I jumped up, trying to wake him, still wary of the last time he had had a nightmare. Hotch heard the screaming and rushed in, waking him quickly. He was rougher with Spencer than I’d liked, but it got the job done. Spence sat up, gasping, his gown sticking to his sweaty chest. “It’s okay, I’m here.” I soothed him, smoothing his now wild hair down. He looked at me confused. “You’re in the hospital, sweetheart. Don’t you remember ?” I laughed a little at having to say that, what with his eidetic memory. The light outside the window was dwindling now, painting the pale blue sky with shades of lavender and velvety gray, as the night closed upon us. Slowly, the days would become shorter, the weather less and less warm, until brisk fall air was all that was left of the summer. With each passing day, I became more afraid, more anxious about leaving my friends behind in Virginia. Suddenly, I couldn’t imagine going home and doing all of the things I had once been content with; sitting endlessly on my computer, watching mindless television shows for hours on end, just sitting round with my friends, day after day. Because Spencer Reid had shown me what it was like to feel again.
As if looking into my thoughts, Spencer gripped my hand all the more tighter. I sat next to him on one side of his bed, and he scooted over to make room. “What are you thinking about Spence ?’ I asked him, even though I already knew. “You. Us.” He told me, turning his head to look right into my eyes. “Color my life with the chaos of trouble….” I murmured to myself. “That’s pretty accurate huh ?” I said, this time to Spencer. “Well, I wouldn’t really call your life troubled, more….riddled with bad luck, I suppose.” Was his reply. “That’s, um, eloquently put…” We bantered on and on like this for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. As weird as it sounds, that was one of my favorite nights with him.
Spencer was released late the next day, and sent home, with strict orders to take at least one day off from work, from both his doctors and Hotch. We spent the day together, naturally. We watched stupid 90’s movies, ate junk food, and lounged around. We stayed in our pajamas all day, and I could tell how pleased he was to just do something normal for once. His pajamas were hilarious; flannel button up, and long bottoms that hung off his thin frame. They were decorated with the FBI logo. And of course, he was wearing his signature two different colored socks; one lime green with dinosaurs, and the other purple with cats. My pajamas consisted of black basketball shorts and a tight red tank top. We were quite a pair.
Spencer’s POV
I looked up at Llysa, taking in her emaciated form. She was definitely looking more gaunt, and less healthy. Her cast had come off, and her right arm looked like a spaghetti noodle, pale and limp, but covered with scars. “What happened to you ?” I blurted out without thinking. “Why. Does. Everyone. Keep. Asking. Me.That !” She demanded to know. “Honestly, do I look that bad ?” she questioned, sounding angry. She started towards the door, “Maybe I should just…” she started to say, but I cut her off, jumping up and grabbing her arm. “No ! Stay with me. Please.” I begged her.
Her gaze flitted to the door and back to my pleading face. I wouldn’t meet her eyes. Derek backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. “I’m so, so sorry Spence. I really am. I was being juvenile, and-“ I cut me off by saying “ What ? I’m the one who should be apologizing, after everything you have been through just this summer, and then with everything I myself put you through…” She peeked up at me with mild surprise. “But Spence, you were the one who held me together, not the one who broke me. Despite everything that has happened recently, I knew that no matter what, I still had you.” I watched shiny, fat tears rolled down her cheeks. She reached up to wipe them away, sitting on the floor and drawing in a ragged breath.
“Sometimes you don’t even know things have changed. You think you are still you, and your life is still your life, but you wake up one day, and you don’t recognize anything. Not anything at all,” She said aloud, looking at the floor. “I know exactly what you mean,” I whispered brokenly in response.
“What happened to us ?” She inquired to me. “Reality.” I told her. And in that moment, that could not have rung truer.
“Maybe we’re not supposed to be happy. Maybe gratitude has nothing to do with joy. Maybe being grateful means recognizing what you have for what it is. Appreciating small victories. Admiring the struggle it takes simply to be human. Maybe we’re thankful for the familiar things we know. And maybe we’re thankful for the things we’ll never know. At the end of the day, the fact that we have the courage to still be standing is reason enough to celebrate, I guess,” She told me. “So, on a lighter note, did you miss me ?” She then asked me, sounding genuinely curious. “More than you know,” I said. “I missed you every minute."