Yours, Spencer : A Spencer Reid Oneshot

yours, spencer

Emily,

Two weeks and three days. That's how long it's been for since my world fell apart. Two weeks and three days ago, I was fine. Good. Great even. But now, well, now it's like I can't even breathe without it feeling strange. I don't sleep. I don't think. I just try to exist in a world where one of my best friends doesn't. That takes up all twenty four hours. It's like there isn't room for anything else. It's all just tears and emptiness.

I know you're gone. I'm not crazy. You died. We buried you in the ground. I spoke at your funeral. I'm not in denial. I'm never going to see you again, and I've accepted that. But somehow, for some reason I can't wrap my mind around, my therapist thinks I should write a letter to you anyway. And that's ridiculous, but he won't clear me for work unless I write you, a dead person, a letter, so here it is.

At first, I denied it. That's how grieving works. Emily Prentiss couldn't possibly have died in my mind. There was no way that could've happened. That's exactly what I said to Hotch. But sure enough, within a few days, you were in a casket, gone for eternity.

It's funny, really. I'm supposed to be the smart one. I'm supposed to be rational. But I would slash my IQ in half if it meant getting to be teased by you again. I would trade in all my PhD's to hear your laugh one more time. I've never felt more useless than I do right now, just wishing to wake up and realize that it was all a dream, and that you'll be at work tomorrow, like it should be.

But I never wake up. Hell, I never sleep long enough to really wake up at all. I try, I really do, but how the hell am I supposed to sleep while your body is in a coffin underground? How am I supposed to sleep while your lifeless eyes won't stop staring at me?

JJ listens. I come to her house and cry for hours. I'm sure she thinks I'm fragile by now. Maybe I am. I knew what I was getting myself into when I took this job. I knew it meant putting my life on the line. But honestly, I'd rather have it be my funeral right now. I wish it was me. I wish I didn't have to feel the agony of living in a world without you any longer.

Maybe I'll go back to Dilaudid. That always helps dull the pain. And I know, I know, I've been clean for so long, I can't turn back to that. But I think I have to, Emily. You'd understand if you were in my shoes.

I miss you. If that wasn't clear by now, I don't know what else is. I tried to go into work a few days ago and I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle the team acting like everything was fine. I couldn't handle your empty desk. I couldn't handle knowing that it could be Derek tomorrow. JJ the next day. I couldn't handle knowing that the people I love could disappear as easily as you did.

I think I'm just being over emotional. I don't cry like this when we lose people every day at work. I don't cry when Tobias Hankel's face flashes across my mind. But I cry when your name pops up. I sob like a baby when I see a picture of you. Who knows why? Certainly not me.

My brain is a mess at the moment. I can't sort my thoughts out well enough to write a half-decent note to my dead best friend. But I'm boy wonder, right? Pathetic, I'm sure. So I'll leave it at that.

I love you, and I'm so sorry I never got to tell you that.

Yours,
Spencer.

Hey! This was pretty short and angst filled, but I found it in my notes and felt the need to share it with all of you. Vote and comment feedback please! Anything helps!!

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