Database ∆ Spencer Reid

30

An ample amount of empty boxes lie around your room.

Last night after crying to Foyer and then angrily hanging up on him because he was pitying you and that's not what you desired, you left the house in a fury.

Angry driving had led you to outside of many department stores looking for empty boxes and asking workers for boxes because who in the hell wants to buy boxes.

Not you.

Nothing was packed though, everything still sat dormant on the shelves, you stayed in bed as a blob of blankets and large clothes.

Your glasses helped conceal the dark circles under your eyes. A tub of ice cream kept you and many sad romcoms company.

Yes it wasn't a horrible break up or the loss of a partner, but your heart felt empty and broken.

Not until now you had decided that you didn't want to leave, but your father would have nothing of that.

He ignored all of your calls and texts. Not only had that made you infuriated, but it also spurred on the depressive episode you were experiencing right now.

It was only two in the afternoon and Hotch had said to come at the end of the work day to get your things from your desk.

You had assumed it was so not everyone would witness your leave, but you weren't completely sure.

You did though get a flood of text messages from the team sending you hopes to get better, again assuming that Hotch had said you were ill or something of the sort.

You sure did feel ill.

Your eyes were red and tired from no sleep, nose running from crying and sniffling, your lips were tad chapped but were fixed up with a few chapstick appliances, throat was scratchy from not drinking, and overall you just felt like a pile of shit.

Garcia had sent you dorky photos to cheer you up and try and rid you of sickness. You sent thank you messages through tears because goddammit you would miss Penelope a lot.

You soon fell asleep, a spoon hanging in your mouth and an empty carton of ice cream tucked in your arm.

It was a dreamless nap, just a snooze to give you a bit of energy.

The birds sensed your sleep and sadness, keeping you company and occasionally flying in to check  up on you, just like you wished your father had done.

When had he become such a heartless bastard?

Soon it was seven p.m. the town was dark around you and the team would have left the bureau at eight.

You made a tired drive to the BAU, the roads keeping you company and it began to rain.

The drops were soft and made you think. You enjoyed the rain, the pitter patter that would play on the glass windows and the way you could just cuddle up in blankets and stay there all day.

Rain was inviting more than it was a seperation to people. It helped you relax and invited you into the calm state you only got to visit every so often.

The ride to the bureau was awfully quiet and all you could do was think.

God these circumstances sucked ass.

You pulled up to the bureau, finding your usual parking spot and pulling in it.

Everyone's car still sat around. Morgan's flashy model car, JJ's small four door, Prentiss' small cooper, Hotch's truck, and Reid's dorky old schooled bug. Their cars stayed parked by the bureau on the outside where your sat rows back out by a light post.