𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐇- spencer reid ✔️

𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐖𝐎

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐔𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐄. Dr. Patel liked to tell Celia that navigating through a trauma was similar to navigating a maze with invisible walls. The brain, it's wired to adapt and learn from experiences, but sometimes said experiences can leave behind scars that aren't as noticeable. That was what she had told her, and something about the words had stuck with Celia. Her stomach churned at the sight of Rebecca in front of her, and Celia knew that this night would be yet another thing that she'd just have to learn to live with. Another hurdle for her to get over. "Think of it like this, Cecilia. When you experience a trauma, the pathways in your brain, they become... tangled up. With therapy, and with time, they might not ever un-tangle themselves, but they will reroute. Think of it as a detour; you might still arrive at your destination, but the journey may be a little different."

Celia was almost expecting Rebecca to rise from the dead and kill them all. But she didn't, because she was really dead this time. Celia had spent the last year or so of her live living in a constant state of fear, wondering what Rebecca would do to her next. Now, she was dead, and she wasn't quite sure where to go from there. It was a strange feeling, but it was one that she couldn't describe. She was glad that Rebecca was dead, that much she was certain of, but at the same time, she was conflicted.

Celia Clairmont had spent so much time thinking that the second Rebecca was out of their lives, that everything would magically go back to normal. Maybe Celia wouldn't be broken anymore, and perhaps she could go on and pretend like none of this ever happened. But the real world didn't work like that. Just because Rebecca was gone didn't mean that her impact on Celia would ever really be gone.

She heard the sound of retching from behind her, and glanced over her shoulder to see Nathan hunched over as his food from earlier made a reappearance on the floor in front of him. "Can we please just get out of here?" Her brother asked, and for once, the emotion on his face was somewhat readable. He avoided eye contact with the body on the floor and he looked completely and utterly exhausted. Maybe all those years of trying to carry the world on his shoulders had finally started to weigh on him.

"What do we do?" Nate asked, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. "Do we just... leave her here?" Sebastian pulled his phone from his pocket, "Cell service is fixed. We'll call the police and let them handle it. My priority is getting the two of you out of this godforsaken house." Celia turned her back on Rebecca and waited until her brother was done on the phone before he escorted the two of them out of the house. They walked down the incredibly long driveway and made it to the gate at the same time as the cops did. Red and blue lights illuminated the Clairmont's as they stood at the end of the driveway. EMT's rushed over in an instant, and it didn't take long for the other residents of the area to come out of their homes and investigate.

The first one that Celia noticed was Rosalind Rutherford, and her oldest son standing at the end of their driveway in their pyjamas. The woman made eye contact with Celia as she was ushered into the back of an ambulance, and she saw her mutter something to her son as she watched the three of them. She still hated Celia's guts for supposedly causing the murder of her son. Celia looked away and let an EMT attend to her.

"Are you hurt, honey?" The woman asked her, examining her for any sort of injury. Apart from the throbbing in her back, Celia didn't think she had any pressing injuries. "My back," she croaked. The EMT nodded and attended to her back, carefully lifting the shirt from her skin to assess the damage. "Looks like you've got some glass stuck in there. Nothing too serious," she informed her with a small smile. "You'll be healed up in no time after they get it out."

She instructed Celia to get in the back of the truck, and they'd bring her to the hospital where she could receive the proper care. She nodded, but before she got in, she looked over her shoulder to get one last look at the house. One last good look at it before she left, as if she were taking photos of it in her mind.