We All Fall Down - A Criminal Minds AU

Seven

Over the next few days you sunk back into old habits. The first morning after the funeral you awoke to find the house empty. Not even a note from Spencer telling you where he had gone. You couldn’t text him, you’d smashed your cell a while ago in frustration, never bothering to replace it, and there was no landline in the house either. You pottered around, opening doors to the rooms upstairs and discovering that Spencer was sleeping in what must have been Henry’s room for when he stayed over. His bags were in there and the bed clothes on the child sized bed were slept in.

You wondered why, having observed that was another guest bedroom which you had passed by. When you went back to check it out though, it became apparent that mattress was shot to pieces. Anyone sleeping on that bed would need a trip to the chiropractors. The bed did seem slept in though that led you to believe that he must have at least attempted this room first. During your wanderings you located the master bedroom. You could see that Diana must have emptied a good portion of her belongings out already, or perhaps Jennifer and Will had. Every surface though was still littered with pill bottles, dressings, cream. Some names you recognised as painkillers and muscle relaxants, codeine, diazapan, tramadol. Others you’d never heard of before, tarceva, sunitinab. Next to one side of the bed was a drip stand, an empty saline bag still hanging there. There was an odd smell to the room too, something you couldn’t quite place. If you looked beyond the mess, the room was huge and although one side of the bed looked raised (pressure pads added to the mattress you discovered), you’d bet that if the sheets were changed and the room aired out, it would make for a loverly room. Given its current state though, you could see why Spencer had chosen Henry’s room.

You took in the downstairs, room by room. A large kitchen which you’d seen already with a casual dining area. A grand looking dining room which looked like it hadn’t been used in years. A large sitting room with beautiful window seats which in a different life, you could have imagined yourself loving. There was a study that doubled up as a library, works by both William and Spencer Reid adorning the shelves along with the classics. And there was another study room, a tiny area with medical texts stacked on overflowing shelves, Diana’s study you assumed.

After realising that you couldn’t exactly leave the house as you couldn’t even find a set of keys to lock up, you wandered back to the kitchen. Although the fridge had been stocked by Jennifer it was with basics only. Butter, milk, a few packets of deli meat. There was still bread that was in date and you located a pantry with a large chest freezer of which the contents had frozen over so badly you couldn’t ever chip a packet out to see what it contained. There were also some tins and jars lining the dusty shelves, their expiration dates past. The only thing of real interest that you found was a wine rack. Not finding anything better to do with your day, you grabbed a bottle and took it back to the sitting room, flicking on the TV and channel surfing until you found a cooking show marathon.

You slept on and off, curled up on the sofa and trying to ignore the noises of the house settling. After draining one bottle, you went and made yourself a sandwich, it barely registering that there wasn’t anything for Spencer to eat when he came home. Grabbing another bottle you retreated to your spot on the sofa, remaining there until around 9pm. With no sign of your husband returning, you took yourself off to bed, crashing until the morning.

The next day you repeated your actions, finding the house empty again. You knew Spencer had been home, you’d poked your head into Henry’s bedroom, seeing the sheets in a different position to the day before. When you entered the kitchen, there were empty take out cartons on the counter. A piece of paper was taped across the two empty bottles you’d deposited on the counter top last night.

“The moving company are bringing our things today. Be sober enough to let them in. The front door opens on a yale lock.”

So you could open it from the inside but if you let it shut and you were on the other side of the door, you couldn’t get back in. If this wasn’t his parents house, you’d have thought he’d had that type of lock installed on purpose. Still, at least you could open it. Upon discovering that the back door was also the same sort of lock, you pulled back the dead bolts, jammed the door open with a chair and ventured outside. The garden would have once been beautiful but was now overgrown and unkept. Diana had had her hands full with other things. Locating the garbage bins, you disposed of the wine bottles and take out containers and went back inside, taking up your spot on the couch. After around an hour of yet another reality show marathon, you heard the tell tale sign of a large vehicle pulling up, and moments later a door bell you didn’t even know was there, sounded.