Being part of the Behavioural Analysis Unit of the FBI was becoming harder and harder to handle. You had been here for over two months, but you never knew how really hard it was going to be, to look at the bodies, meet the families of the victims, and deal with psychopaths. You never knew how hard it would be, knowing some people could just be pushed so far they break down, and result to murder...or worse. Dealing with cases about children was the worst. Mainly because your best friend has two beautiful sons, one of whom you are the godmother for. But there are other reasons as well, that should be quite obvious.
And sadly it seems you guys have been working a lot of child abduction cases lately. Some ending more horribly than others.
"Y/N, you and J.J. will speak to the families this afternoon. Reid, Rossi, you go to the site where the child was found. Lewis and Alvez will go to the family's home and evaluate how the child was abducted, meanwhile Agent Simmons and I will talk to the police force here about possible suspects," states Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU...and your older sister.
"Got it," comes out of almost every mouth but yours. You simply nod, and start walking towards the room with the latest victim's family. Jennifer, also known as J.J., walks up to you just as you reach the door. She gently takes your hand and turns you to look at her. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay? I've never seen you ignore Emily like that. What's going on?"
You look up at her, and smile sadly. "I just hate that all of these children are being hurt. It makes me so sad..." You say. She brings me in for a hug and holds me tightly. You wrap your arms around her and close your eyes. "And I can't help but think about Michael and Henry, you know?"
She pulls away and nods. "I worry about them too. But remember, we gotta be strong for these families. Superwomen."
You nod back and straighten your jacket. "Superwomen," You say. Jenny nods again and smiles at you, then kisses your forehead. "My sad little bestie. What am I gonna with you?" She says jokingly. You roll your eyes and scoff. "Yeah, real subtle, J.J. You know Emily got all the height in my family."
She just continues smiling at you as you open the door to greet the families, and walk in.
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"We believe the UnSub is a woman in her mid to late 30's, of possible immigrant descent. We believe she may have lost a child and is trying to recreate the events of the day she lost him, but in which she saves the child," Emily says, speakly loudly so everyone in the police station can hear her.
"We also feel that when her plan doesn't work, she becomes filled with anger and sadness, and hides somewhere for two weeks, completely forgetting she has the child. The child then dies from dehydration and neglect," say Spencer Reid, boy fucking wonder. Also the only one here close to your age. It sucks to be a young woman in this profession sometimes.
"We also believe she dissociates whenever she takes a child. She feels like it's her own, and feels like she has been given a second to save him," J.J. says.
"She then awakens from her sadness and dissociative state and finds the child. She is so overwhelmed with grief and guilt that she takes the child to a place nearby and gives what we feel is a funeral," You say.
After about another five minutes, Emily finishes up the profile. "She may frequently visit stores for children, playgrounds, and even schools. Please keep an eye out. Thank you."
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Two days later, the woman has been caught, as well as an extremely scared and dehydrated young boy. Now you're back at the police station, the boy eating and drinking for the first time in about three days. His parents hug him repeatedly and dote over him, getting him everything he asks for.
You smile at seeing the family reuniting with their son. "Hey. You ready to leave?" asks a voice next to you. It startles you a bit, and you turn to see Spencer standing there. He smiles curtly, and looks at the family. "I'm glad we could save him."
"Me, too," You say. You start walking towards the exit, and Spencer follows you. "And yeah, I'm ready to head back. What time does the jet leave again?"
"In 58 minutes, 37 seconds," he says. You roll your eyes at his exactness. "Just enough time to get some food before we leave. Would you like to join me, Y/N?"
You walk out of the door and slowly walk towards one of the black Chevy Suburbans. Once there, you realize Reid is still right behind you, waiting for a reply. You turn towards him, and before you can even get out one syllable, he speaks. "Why don't you like me?"
It's such a blatant question, it takes you by surprise. Your thoughts go off track, and you can't speak. So you just choose to just stare at him. You know why you act the way you do towards him, but no one else knows. No one can find out. They would then find out why you chose to work for the BAU. No one knows why you chose to work there, not even Emily. They think you joined for your sister. For your best friend. But in reality, you wanted to help those like you. Those who are forced into situations they wish to escape from, but cannot figure a way out. Those who are hurt by people for no real reason.
You joined because your last boyfriend was a narcissistic, psychopathic, controlling, degrading stalker. He was a very abusive man, and joining the BAU was your only real way of escaping. Of feeling like you could be the help you needed, but for others.
It's almost like Spencer's words are a trigger for your PTSD. A trigger that you never knew you had. Tears spring to your eyes and you clench your fists. You turn around in a rush and jump in the car. You start the engine, still holding back tears as you begin driving away from the police station. You then call up Emily, and ask her if you can just drive back to Quantico, and take a personal day. She agrees, and soon you're left alone with your thoughts and your tears.
You start thinking about him. About how you lost your unborn baby because he punched you in your stomach. That had been one particularly horrid day. You had given the baby boy a name already. Alexander. He had been a big baby, that much you had seen from the ultrasounds. But he wasn't big enough to survive John Walker. You almost weren't big enough to survive him either.
But you did.
And so now the grief just lives inside of you, alongside of your PTSD, anxiety, and numerous other mental illnesses.
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FIVE HOURS LATER
At this point in your road trip back to your home in Quantico, you realize just how tired you've become. You look at the little clock on the dash and realize what time it is. You sigh and realize you'll either have to stop for the next few hours to catch some shut eye, or finish the drive trying not to fall asleep. You obviously pick the first one.
You pull up to a gas station, a Wawa to be exact, and get out of your car to pump some gas. You take out your card and put it into the machine at the pump and select the type of gas you need. Your car starts to quickly fill up, though you hate the inaction of just standing there while it pumps. So you decide to look at your phone. More specifically, pictures of the ultrasounds of your son. He would've been three now, almost four. He would've been so big for his age, you just know it. And he would've had brown hair and blue eyes, like his father. His father...
You shake your head, close the gallery app, and turn the screen off on your phone. You can't think of him now, you just can't. It'll make you want to stop. It'll make you want to stop at the cemetery. Because as you were looking at your phone, your location popped up. You're in Richmond, VA. Not too far from Quantico, but far enough that you don't want to continue driving right now. And it's also the place where you lived when you lost the baby. Where you almost gave up on life. Where you wanted to just die, as simple as that. Just so the pain would stop.
You notice the gas pump is now starting to click meaning your tank is full. You pull out the pump and hang it back up. You go back to the driver's side door and grab your things, making sure to lock your car as you do. You then head into the gas station convenience store and grab three things: a water, a small bag of chips, and a small bouquet of ornate flowers.
The flowers look so beautiful you wonder how they're being sold at a gas station, when you remember. A woman named Miss Karina used to pick flowers for the local stores, funerals, and every other event that needed them. She had the most beautiful garden, and the beautiful bouquets. She was the woman who did the flowers for your son's premature death and funeral. She was the woman who brought you flowers every day after that. She was the woman who talked to you every day. She was the one who convinced you to leave John. And she is the only one who knows your secret. The secret about how you really lost the baby. The trauma you went through everyday with your ex-boyfriend. And the reason why you joined the BAU.
How you forgot about her, you aren't quite sure...maybe with pushing away the bad, the most horrible memories of this place, you also pushed away memories of the good people you knew here. And you realized, you needed to visit the cemetery. You needed to visit your son. You needed to remember how beautiful it felt to be pregnant with him. No matter how much it hurts because you don't have him now.
You head to register, paying for the items quickly. As you head back to your car, you think you see something in the corner of your eye, but you shake off the thought of anyone following you.
Climbing in your car, you set the flowers on the passenger seat and then open your snack. You eat quickly, feeling as though someone is staring at you. Once all the chips are all eaten, the bag laying on the car floor, you take off. You look at the time and know the cemetery is closed, so you just head to a nearby motel.
Once you're finally in a room, you shake off your clothes and fall asleep almost immediately...sobbing as you dream of what could have been.
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The next day you wake up to the sun shining in your face, and you momentarily forget where you are. But then you notice the flowers you brought inside with you, and remember. The town full of what ifs, and horrible memories. But you still want to go visit your son, the beautiful baby boy who never even got to see the sun for one moment.
You get dressed, prepare for the day ahead of you, and check out all in under an hour. The mental preparation came much easier than you thought it would, and that had shocked you. You thought it would take all day. But it didn't.
And now you stand in front of the small gravestone, and you cry. You just placed the flowers all around the ground around the large block of cement, and the tears can't seem to stop as you fall to your knees. You start to speak to your son, telling him how much you miss him, love him...but you stop, because you feel someone staring at you again. You look around and see no one at first, but then you realize there is a tall figure with light brown hair standing at the gate of the cemetery.
You gasp, realizing it's Spencer. And then you wonder how he knew you were here. And then you wonder if anyone is here as well. Standing up, you make your way towards him.
"W-what are you doing here, Reid?" You ask, playing with your fingers nervously.
"I had Garcia track the GPS in the car, it said you were here. I was worried you were unsafe, you seemed quite upset yesterday when you drove off," he says. "And I was just wondering why?"
"Is anyone else here, or does anyone else besides Penelope know?" You look up at him, his height being nearly a foot more than yours.
"No one knows, and Penelope actually told me to be quiet about it. She already knew though, she said." He looks around confused. "Why are you at a cemetery, Y/N?"
I look down, tears welling up in my eyes. Seems like that 'mental preparation' wasn't much at all. But of course Garcia knew, she had all the agents physical exams on file. She just didn't know it was why you joined the BAU.
"Hey, you can tell me, I won't tell anyone else. And even if you don't tell me, it's fine. I understand." Spencer takes hold of one of your hands, stroking the back of it with his thumb.
You look up, and smile sadly at him. You then grip his hand tightly, and pull him along as you walk back to your son's grave. Once in front of it, you stop.
"I lost him, when I was with my ex boyfriend. No one knows why I joined the BAU but one person, and I don't know where she's at," you say. "His name was Alexander. My ex got very anger one day, over what I cannot remember, and the next thing I knew he was punching my stomach. He told me no one would ever have me but him, not even the baby. And I lost Alexander three days later, in the hospital. The doctors worked on me, and him, for 26 hours. I was lucky to even survive. I had internal bleeding, and I prayed to God, if there even was one, to save my baby. Even if he had to take my spirit and life and put it into his little body. But that didn't happen. And I swore that day, I would save anyone and everyone I could from something like that. And that's why I joined the bureau. I want to save people who can't save themselves."
By the time you're finished speaking, tears are rushing down your face, and Spencer is holding you close. You breathe in his scent, realizing why you felt a strong dislike for him this whole time. You feel something for him and it scares you. The last time you felt for a person, a man, you lost yourself on the way.
"I don't hate you Spencer...I like you, too much, and I'm just scared," you say.
"I understand. I'm so sorry about your son, about your loss. I really am. And you don't have to worry about me hurting you, if that's what it is. Because I like you too, though I don't really know why yet," Spencer whispers into your hair, holding you close. "I won't do anything until you're ready. And I will cherish your unborn son with you, every day. I understand loss."
You look up at him, and then to the gravestone. "He would've been beautiful. And I think he would've liked you."
Spencer smiles down at you and pushes hair out if your face. "He would've looked like you, I feel it. Just know, whatever happens after we die, he loves you too, and forgives you. He knows you did everything you could."
"Thank you..." You whisper.
"You're welcome," he whispers back. "How about we get some more flowers, for him?"
I smile softly up at him, my tears drying slowly. "I'd like that."