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Your life has been pretty good in your opinion. It's not like you haven't been through dark times for a few years, but once you grew up and followed your dreams, things got a lot better. You became a reputable FBI agent working at the BAU, one of the most elite groups in the bureau. You earned excellent colleagues who are also your friends and your family. And you met Spencer Reid, your fiancee, the man who can light up your days and rock your nights.
Yeah, life has been pretty good to you.
Until today.
Until that bastard stabbed your fiancee in the field.
A bastard who managed to escape.
You blamed yourself. You should have burst into the warehouse with Spencer. You shouldn’t have left him alone.
The hours in the hospital seemed endless for you. The team’s faces weren’t better than yours. He has to make it. Right?
He’s the love of your life. You can’t lose him.
You tried to stay collected, thinking of good scenarios and Spencer's recovery.
Your thoughts stopped when JJ walked through the hospital doors that separated the wards from the waiting room. She had tears in her eyes.
“ He never made it off the table. ”
That was the moment your life was turned upside down forever.
-
A widow. That's what you were and how you felt.
Crying for Spencer's death became a full-time activity. How could it not? Everything in your shared apartment reminded you of the life you both had together. The plans, the dreams, the memories, all were there in every corner. It took you weeks to grab Spencer's coffee mug he left on the kitchen counter the last morning you ate breakfast together.
Going to work didn't make things easy. The looks, the pity, the talk behind your back. It was like everyone walked on eggshells around you.
Spencer’s death affected the team, not only emotionally; two weeks after Spencer's funeral, Strauss split the group, sending Hotch to missions out of the country and Rossi to support another task group in the FBI. JJ was called to assist in other divisions from time to time. Morgan was the present team leader, and Prentiss, Garcia, and you were the permanent team members.
In the lonely nights at your apartment, surrounded by your memories, sometimes your mind tricked you, thinking that Spencer could walk inside with open arms and smile brightly at you. Maybe you would go insane.
At moments like those, you ended up knocking on Emily’s door. She was emotionally stronger than you, holding you as you cried for hours.
You will always be grateful to her. You knew it was unfair to Emily because as the same time you mourned Spencer as your fiancee, she mourned Spencer as her little brother.
You started to feel sick most of the time. Emotional and physically sick. Your head throbbed constantly; your stomach couldn't stand the food you forced yourself to eat, and it was common to wake up in the morning with nausea making you run to the bathroom to empty your guts into the toilet.
Two months passed, and you couldn't feel better. Emily advised you to go to the doctor.
“They will tell me that I’m depressed and send me home. I can’t be at home, Em,” you argued.
“But you need to be checked. Depressed or not, being like this doesn't help you. Please, just let them see you.”
You did what Emily requested. At your doctor's appointment, she asked the trivial questions and ordered urine and blood tests. You could feel her pity look on you when you told her what happened with your fiancee.
You hated people looking at you like that.
In the next appointment, with the results on hand, she disclosed two things: one of them you already knew; the other felt like a cold bucket on your back. You were depressed and pregnant.
What the doctor told you after that was a blur to you. You didn't listen, your brain only filled with one word: pregnant.
Still shaking, you managed to get out of the doctor’s office and dialed Emily’s number.
As in the past months, she comforted you and offered her support all the way. Whatever your decision could be.
You spent days and nights thinking about what to do. You didn't feel in a good place to be a mother, but it was Spencer's child, the love of your life. It was part of your plan together. You both wanted kids, but he was gone now.
Could you be strong enough to raise a child?
One night, curling in bed with Spencer's shirt in your hands, smelling the faint scent of his cologne, you noticed there weren’t more tears in you. The pain still was there, but you couldn't cry anymore. Instead, you started rubbing your lower belly with one hand. At that moment, you made a choice.
Telling the team made it more real. You will have a baby. Spencer's baby. Everyone hugged you, offering all the support you could need. You didn't know why, but JJ looked more emotional that day. You guessed that she felt like the baby would be his friend's living legacy. You always knew how strong was JJ and Spencer's friendship. It was a terrible loss for her too.
-
Emily became your partner in all the baby’s appointments you got, and she asked about all your therapist’s sessions.
You needed to acknowledge that therapy helped. Every day you felt a little bit better. Maybe it was because you focused on the baby: you needed to be okay for them. You needed to stand again because now a human life depended on you.
Months went by, and your bump started to be noticeable. Looking at you in the mirror every morning, you could see how the baby has grown.
You made changes in the apartment. Morgan helped to adapt your and Spencer’s old office into a nursery. You changed the furniture in your bedroom too, settling a bassinet by your bed. It was time to decide what to do with Spencer's belongings. You packed his clothes in boxes and left them in the basement storage room. Some of his books ran the same luck. But most of them, you wanted to keep it so your child could see part of his father there.
And so seven months have passed since that fateful day. Seven months in which there were days when it was difficult to get up, but you kept going. The support of your friends was essential.
The job also helped you to overcome the pain and make each day count.
Your bump was growing and growing, and without knowing it, the baby you were carrying became the BAU’s top priority. Your baby was still not born but was loved by everyone.
“Come on (Y/N)! Tell us! It’s a boy or a girl?” JJ insisted. She, Emily, and you were in the conference room. You already knew the gender, but you didn't want to tell anyone, not even Emily.
“My lips are sealed,” you informed, sipping your tea. JJ huffed.
“We can profile you to find out, you know?” Emily warned. You narrowed your eyes.
“You wouldn't dare...”
“To know if I’m having a godson or a goddaughter? Of course!” Emily pointed matter-of-factly.
You shook your head, clucking.
Then Derek and Garcia entered the room. A severe expression on their faces. You three noticed immediately.
Something important happened.
“We found him,” Derek announced.
Your jaw dropped to the floor. JJ and Prentiss looked at each other, not knowing what he was talking about.
“Found who?” JJ asked.
“The son of the bitch who killed Reid. Steven Harmon.”
Your throat tightened, and your hands started to shake.
On the day of Spencer's funeral, when Derek hugged you, he promised to catch the man who killed your fiancee. And after seven months, he succeeded. You knew he was tracking him with Garcia's help, but no one mentioned or talked about that until now.
“We need to move fast, though. I called Hotch and Rossi. We are going to get him.”
Although your protests, Morgan didn't let you participate in the field operation. You begged him; you needed to catch the guy, but Derek reminded you that it could be dangerous for you and the baby, and he never would forgive himself if something happened to you.
Two days after that, the entire team, minus Garcia and you, finally caught who killed the love of your life, your baby’s father.
You thought that after his arrest you would feel relieved. This was what you needed to bring justice and peace of mind to you. But why it didn’t feel like that? Why did you feel like something was off?
Hotch called everyone to the conference room the next morning. After asking you to sit down, he folded his arms over his chest and spoke—JJ by his side.
“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you know, Spencer lost a lot of blood after his fight with Harmon. But the doctors were able to stabilize him. And he was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration. His identity was strictly need-to-know. And he stayed there until he was well enough to travel. He was reassigned to Paris, where he was given several identities, none of which we had access to for his security.”
You took in Hotch’s words, but they seemed extracted from a movie, not from reality.
“His is alive?” Garcia mumbled.
“But we buried him!” Prentiss shouted.
By reflex, you pressed both hands to your belly. Your pulse quickened, as did your breathing.
“As I said, I take full responsability for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me,” Hotch informed. The same calm and stern voice with which he started speaking.
“Any issues? Yeah, I got issues!” Morgan growled.
Emily's eyes flicked from Hotch to you, back and forth. Had anyone cared about you before disclosing this news?
And then everyone turned to the door. He was there. Spencer stood awkwardly, looking at each team member, but especially at you. When your eyes and his locked, you felt like you couldn't breathe. You stood suddenly because your limbs were numb, and you didn't know if you were dreaming or awake. You clutched your bump to ground yourself. Spencer’s eyes widened when he noticed your belly.
He didn't know you were pregnant.
He didn't know anything.
You noticed how he looked at JJ as if he was asking why. She knew. Hotch knew. Who else lied to you all these months?
The silence in the room was suffocating. No one dared to say anything.
Spencer took a step ahead toward you, but you stepped back. He lied to you. Everyone lied to you.
“Don’t! Don’t come closer!” you whined.
“(Y/N)...” Spencer tried to talk to you, but you continued moving backward.
“I don’t want to know. You - you...”
The air left your lungs, and you felt dizzy. The room started to spin, and in a matter of seconds, you fainted. Emily and Derek were fast enough and caught you before falling to the floor. Derek took you in his arms to move you to the nearest couch so you could lay down as Emily called the paramedics to get you checked.
Spencer tried to reach you, but Hotch stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Let’s move to my office,” Hotch instructed.
Spencer glared at his boss with a look that revealed how betrayed he felt. JJ intervened too.
“Spence. We need to talk.”
Reluctantly and with his gaze still on you, Spencer left the conference room, heading to Hotch’s office. Rossi and Garcia followed suit.
“Why on earth you didn't tell me she is pregnant?!” Spencer shouted to JJ once they were in the office.
“Because you would have done exactly what you shouldn't,” Hotch explained. “Wouldn't you have taken the next flight to DC?”
“Yeah! Maybe I would have. She needed me here!” Spencer spat to Hotch. “I thought you were my friend?” Spencer now directed his anger to JJ.
“You have no idea the times I was about to tell you! But Hotch is right. You would have blown your cover, and we could never have caught Harmon,” JJ defended herself.
Spencer rubbed his eyes with his palms. In all the months he was away he wondered how you were. It hurt him not being able to talk to you, to say anything. To you, the most important person in his life.
His look darted to Rossi and Penelope.
“I’m so sorry. You didn't deserve this. Any of this. I - I’m sorry,” Spencer sniffled. Rossi approached and patted his back.
“It was for your safety, kid. It's hard now, but everyone would understand, she would understand,” Rossi reassured him. “It’s good to have you back.”
“My turn,” Penelope demanded, wrapping Spencer in a tight embrace. “I can’t believe I can hug you again. Now I’ll hug you every day, and I don’t want complaints,” she declared.
Spencer chuckled, still sniffling a bit.
“I missed you guys, and I really want to tell you all about this, but I need to know about (Y/N); when did she tell you about the baby? How has her health been?”
Rossi, Hotch, JJ, and Penelope looked at him in a way that told Spencer everything he needed to know: you have been through hell in the past seven months.
How would he fix this now?
-
The paramedics checked on you, and said there was no need to go to the hospital. Your vitals were okay, and the baby was okay too. They only recommended you needed to rest.
Easier said than done , you thought.
Emily and Derek were in silence by your side. They didn't want to rush you or pressure you in any form. When the paramedics left, you looked at them with the question on the tip of your tongue.
“That - that was real? He - he is really alive?” You asked, voice cracking.
“Yes. He is,” Emily confirmed.
You closed your eyes for a moment to inhale and exhale.
“Did you know?” You asked again, looking at Emily and Derek.
Both shook their heads.
“What is supposed to happen now?” You asked, more to yourself than your friends.
“I don’t know,” Emily told you honestly. “I mean, I can understand the whole thing, but it's not easy to accept as if nothing happened.”
Derek was still in silence.
“Morgan, please say something,” you demanded.
“I’m sorry pretty girl, I wish I could have something to say to you, but I don't.”
You sighed, rubbing your hands over your belly.
It was evident that everyone was shocked, but Spencer was alive. That would be a reason to be happy. Right? So why you couldn't stand and run to hug him? Maybe because you already accepted that you lost him.
You didn't dare to leave the conference room during the entire day. Emily brought you snaks, and lunch, making you company for most of the hours. You told Morgan that it was okay for him to leave you there, that you were okay. The same you told Emily, who seemed more reluctant. You convinced her by telling her that you needed to be alone to think.
Eventually, Morgan and Emily went to talk to Hotch, JJ, and presumably Spencer. But you weren't ready yet.
More hours passed, and you didn't know what to do. You knew that you will have to talk to him at some point. You couldn’t avoid him all day.
Peeking through the blinds, you saw Spencer sitting alone at his desk.
It was real. He was real.
The man you mourned for months was alive and a few feet from you. Rubbing your bump, you asked yourself if life was giving you a second chance, or maybe it was a test to prove how stronger you were.
Either way, you needed to confront this.
You opened the conference room’s door, and Spencer's head snapped instantly in your direction. You didn't say anything, retracting to the office but leaving the door open. You assumed it was enough for him to understand.
Spencer quickly strolled where you were. Cautiously he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
“(Y/N)...” he mumbled, standing in front of you.
It was only then that you really noticed him. His hair was longer and his curls wilder than ever. He grew a little stubble and his dark circles seemed more prominent. His clothes looked different too: gray slacks, a black shirt, and a gray tie.
“Did you want to talk to me?” You asked him, your voice monotonous as if it wasn’t a big deal.
“Yes,” he replied to you almost in a whisper. “I didn't come earlier; Emily warned me that I needed to wait until you wanted to see me,” he explained.
“She only told you that?” You asked.
“No. After punching me in the arm and cursing me for hurting you, she told me that,” Spencer corrected.
“That sounds more like Emily,” you mused.
“Yeah.” Spencer acknowledged, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. Looking at you didn't make it easy.
He was in front of you, and the only idea that plagued his mind was how bad he wanted to hug you and kiss you. But he couldn't.
To you, he was like a ghost.
“I - I’m so sorry, (Y/N). But I had no choice. I had to do it. And there wasn’t a moment being away that I didn’t think about you. When I regained consciousness, I was flying to Bethesda. The only information I had was a note with my destination and the prohibition of talking to anyone because it could mean Harmon hurting some of you. I couldn't let that happen.”
Spencer's eyes got glassy, and his voice trembled.
“So the only solution was faking your death? I thought you were a genius, Spencer,” you huffed, disappointment written on your face.
“I’m sorry. If I could go back in time, I would do it to prevent all of this. Believe me. It wasn’t easy for me either. To lose everything I had, not knowing if someday I could get it back? Trying to figure out how to solve this being miles and miles away. Away from you. It killed me day by day,” Spencer sighed, hands fidgeting with a notepad in his hands.
“Yeah? Big difference was that you knew we were here, alive. While we had to assume you were dead. We buried you! Do you know how hard it was? And do you want to know what it meant for me? Oh, God! To come back every day to an apartment full of your memories. Every night trying to sleep in a bed we used to share. It took me months to pack your things! Fuck you , Spencer!”
The rage and the pain mixed perfectly in your voice. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Spencer knew better. There wasn’t any word he could say to make that go away. So he was ready to take every stab coming from your mouth.
“I deserve all your anger. I deserve your cold shoulder, but please. Believe me when I tell you that this wasn’t how it should have happened.”
“No? Of course, because it was easier to trust JJ than me, uh? I was your fucking fiancee , Spencer!”
After you said that, Spencer noticed. You weren't using your engagement ring. Of course you weren’t. He was dead. You had the right to go on with your life.
“It wasn’t like that. I was trying to protect you,” he defended.
“Oh, please! Not that bullshit. What you did, what you all did, was the lowest thing I expected from you. Don’t ask me to be okay with it.”
“If I have known that you were...” Spencer trailed off, darting his eyes to your bump. Protectively you put your hands over.
“Pregnant? Would you have come back? I don't think so. Don’t lie to me, Spencer.”
You didn't believe him, and that broke Spencer.
“(Y/N)...” he wanted to argue, but you cut him off.
“I wasn't even sure if I wanted to keep it, you know? I was so depressed, in a hole that I didn't know how to get out of. But yeah, this baby symbolizes the love we shared at some point. It was something we both wanted. This baby gave me a reason to live when I thought I had lost everything!” you bawled, feeling your voice trembling.
Spencer couldn't help but sob, seeing you like that and hearing what you said. He had already lost too much of your life and pregnancy during those months, and the guilt was eating him alive.
Not having anything more to say, you grabbed your bag to leave. Spencer watched with horror how words failed him in an attempt to stop you.
“(Y/N)... wait. Please,” he begged. You halted at the threshold, doubting if it was a good idea to turn around. But you did it anyway.
“Do you have anything else to say now?”
“No. But please, could you take this?” Spencer stretched his arm and offered you the notepad he had.
“What is this?” You asked cautiously.
“You know I’m not good at expressing my feelings, but I wrote them. I tried. Please, could you read it?” He pleaded. You noticed his hand shaking. You reluctantly grabbed the notepad.
“I don’t know what you expect I find here,” you frowned, setting the item in your bag.
“My life in the past seven months. I know it couldn't be compared to what you went through, but I think you deserve to know,” Spencer hastened to say, his glassy eyes telling you it was important to him.
You didn't respond, but nodded instead.
“Thank you,” he mumbled.
Fixing your bag on your shoulder, you turned again and left the room.
Spencer stood there and contemplated through the window how you walked to the elevator and disappeared behind the metal doors.
-
The notepad begged you to be opened. You shoved it over the coffee table earlier, debating if it was a good idea. You were curious but afraid of what was written there.
After dinner, you sat on the couch with a mug of tea in one hand. Your eyes darted to the notepad again while your free hand flew to your belly.
“I know what you are thinking; your mom is a mess right now. And you’re right. Adults could be so complicated, my little peanut. Mom and dad are not exceptions. Yes, your dad. It happens that he is very much alive. Can you believe it?
We should be happy. Right?” You sighed. Leaving your mug on the coffee table, you grabbed the notepad and opened it. You couldn’t help but smile at the scratchy-messy Spencer's handwriting.
The first page seemed like a letter.
-&-
My love,
I’m writing this even if I can't actually send it to you. Right now, I’m sitting at a desk in my hotel room in Paris. My flight arrived three hours ago, and I’m settled here until I can have my documents. Then I can rent an apartment here. I wish I shouldn’t have to. I wish I could take the next flight to DC. I wish I could come back to be with you and tell you that everything is okay.
I’m sorry. You and the team are thinking I died on the table by now. I’m so sorry. I should have been faster than Harmon. I should have stopped him somehow. I failed. And now we are miles away.
My body hurts from the wounds but what hurts me more is knowing that I’m dead for you. And I’m here with my life suspended for an undetermined time.
Would you forgive me someday?
I love you, and I’ll love you forever.
No matter if someday you forget who I was.
S.
-&-
Tears started to roll down. This was the first entrance in the notepad. The following pages were filled with more letters to you: 210 in total. He wrote a letter to you every day. Some were longer, others not. The first ones were filled with hope, the last ones with sadness and melancholy. But each letter showed how much he loved you, how much he missed you.
He wrote the last one on the plane to DC two days ago.
-&-
My love,
My heart is beating so fast right now. Hotch told me they caught Harmon and that I could come back. God, never did I pack a suitcase so quickly in my life. I’m so excited about coming back, but I’m terrified. They didn't tell me much about anything in the past months, even when I begged to know about you. Are you okay? Did you forget me yet?
I know this won’t be easy. And I wouldn't blame you if you hate me after this. But I have hopes. The hopes I was losing in the past months.
Just five hours and fifteen minutes more.
I love you. I love you. My body is shuddering, and I’m sure the old lady beside me must think I’m crazy because I’m mouthing the words as I write them.
Just a few more hours, my love.
S.
-&-
The man in the letters was the man you loved. And is the man you still love. You couldn’t deny that. Was it a messy situation? Yes. Were you still confused? Sure you do.
But this is your Spencer. And he is alive. And he loves you.
What he did could be reasonable or not for you, but it was done. Why prolong the agony? You both deserve happiness. Rebuild what you both lost in the past months.
That’s how you stood from the couch, grabbing your coat and keys. It didn't matter the time. Nothing else matter.
You didn't remember much of the text you sent Emily asking where Spencer was staying. You didn’t remember much of the cab ride or how you were in front of Morgan’s door.
After knocking insistently, a confused Derek opened the door. You were a sight to see: slippers, pajama pants, an oversized sweater covering your pregnant belly, and a coat.
“I guess you are not here to see me,” he teased you. You rolled your eyes.
“Not now, Derek, please,” you begged.
“Come in. He is sleeping on the couch. Or he was.”
Stepping into Derek’s apartment, you immediately saw a pair of hazel eyes looking at you with confusion.
“(Y/N)...” he muttered. Then panic appeared in him. “Are you okay? The baby is okay?” He hastened to ask, standing from the couch and moving closer to you. Derek didn't bother to say anything; he left you both alone.
“Everything is okay. Or I hope it will soon,” you told him, daring to step closer to him. You could feel how Spencer's breath hitched. His puppy eyes looking at you, trying to decipher why you were there at 2 AM. Then it hit him.
“Did you...” Spencer gestured in the air. He didn’t need to finish the question because you knew he was talking about the notepad.
“Yes. I read it,” you admitted, pursing your lips to conceal the quivering on them.
Spencer cleared his throat.
“Oh. Okay?”
He was frozen on the spot.
It was the time for a leap of faith and love. For you, for him, and the life growing inside you.
You closed the gap between the two of you, your hand reaching his cheek and stroking it tentatively. He leaned into your touch.
It was real.
He was real to you.
You were real to him.
You could see the tears pouring from Spencer's eyes. You didn't do it better, sobbing as your other hand explored his face, touching his eyes, jaw, forehead, and nose.
“I love you,” he whispered, using his hands to mimic your actions. He left a trail of feather touches on your cheeks, eyes, chin, and lips. Then his eyes lowered to your belly. He returned his eyes to yours, silently asking permission. You nodded.
He kneeled, and with both hands, he caressed your belly over your sweater. With the tears came the whimpers. You were both fully crying now. Spencer couldn't believe that he was touching where his baby lay since seven months ago.
“Hey there,” he whispered. “I’m your daddy, you know? Yeah, the asshole who made mommy upset all these months. Sure she mentioned that to you,” Spencer spoke, guilt in his voice.
“You both need to talk about that later,” you conceded, gently stroking Spencer's hair.
“I have to tell you something now, though. I’m not going anywhere. I’m here and won’t leave you or your mom ever again,” Spencer mumbled to the baby, planting a kiss on your belly.
“You promise? Because I can’t lose you again. Mourning you twice would destroy me,” you confessed, looking down to find his eyes.
Spencer stood and took your hands in his to kiss your knuckles not breaking eye contact.
“I’ll stay forever if you will have me. I promise,” he assured you, now cupping your cheeks with both hands. You got lost in that hazel eyes. The same eyes that made you fall in love years ago.
He leaned and kissed you. You felt butterflies in your stomach, like always when he kissed you. You didn't think twice and kissed him back, pouring all your feelings and longing into that kiss.
When you parted, he rested his forehead on yours.
“I love you. I love you both,” he mumbled.
“And we love you, Spencer.”
Those words flooded so naturally from your mouths.
But they had a new meaning now.
For Spencer, those words confirmed that his life wasn’t suspended anymore. He recovered your love and gained a new one.
For you, those words brought to existence what you thought you lost seven months ago: the love of your life and the father of your child.