LOSING, BABY｡ CRIMINAL MINDS

EIGHT

unedited

EIGHT. SEEING SPENCER

AS THE DAYS PASSED, RHEA'S VISITS BECAME LONGER AND MORE FREQUENT. At first, the meals she'd left had gone untouched, but soon they were slowly being pecked at by the man in isolation. Her spirit lifted ever so slightly when she'd seen a neat corner cut out of the pasta melt, or half-empty Tupperware box left just outside the door. 

It had been over a week now since Maeve had died. Rhea had visited him every single day without fault. She had come and gone initially, but started sitting outside, just in case he wanted some form of company. She didn't necessarily talk, but she leaned against the door and stared out the window of the building, watching the odd plane fly by. She knew his team couldn't be there all the time, so she made an effort to go as much as she could. 

It made her feel good, having someone to care about. 

"Spencer?" she knocked on the door softly, knowing he'd hear it. He was probably sprawled on the hardwood floors or sitting by the door, craving physical contact but mentally unable to interact with others. "I've got your dinner. It's not as much as I gave you last time since you didn't finish it...but it says online that it's pretty filling."

She put the paper bag between all of the other gift baskets like she usually did then lowered herself to the ground in her usual place. Her watch told her that it was nearly six in the evening, so she reached into her handbag and pulled out her grade book. She was behind on marking, but she still wanted to make sure Spencer was being taken care of. Just before she was about to begin working, she pursed her lips and tried to think of what to say.

"Katie's been asking about you," she said, twirling her ball-point between her fingers. "She wanted me to tell you that she misses your visits, and that she's finished her poem for class. It's really sweet, actually; you mean the world to that kid."

She heard a small rustle from the other side of the door. A sad smile played at her face, and she pulled the photocopy of Katie's poem out of her book, looking down at the small drawing that accompanied the text. It was a doodle of Katie, Spencer, Louis and herself. Her and Louis were in in the middle, looking up at the adults, who were surrounded by small pictures of the planet, animals and cute little math equations. It made Rhea's heart swell, and she hoped that maybe it would bring Spencer some joy as well. 

"Keep in mind she's a seven year old who hates creative writing, but here we go: Math is a lot of fun, it helps me get the job done. I was the only one who liked to add, but then Doctor Spencer came along, and I stopped being sad," she recited, her voice catching at the end. God, she felt so bad for Spencer.  She rested her head against the door frame and sighed softly. "She wants to be a profiler for Halloween, you know."

There was another shuffle on the other side of the wall, and Rhea watched the knob slowly start to turn. She jumped up in surprise, gripping the poem in one hand and brushing the dust off her pants with the other. Her grade book cluttered to the floor, a soft thud sounding as it hit the wood. She didn't notice.