"What the hell just happened, Reid? Where is she going?" Emily asks me, gesturing in the direction that Allie went.
I shake my head. "Who knows?"
I can't believe her. She didn't even give me the time of day, she didn't let me explain...
She just ran out. Again.
Unsurprising.
Predictable, really.
"What was she even doing here? I thought she was at Morgan's house?" Luke speaks up.
"I don't know!" I snap, raising my voice at all of them. "I never would have brought Cat back here had I known she was home!"
"Aw, why not?" I hear from behind me and look to see Cat stepping out through the garage.
I shake my head at her. "Because quite frankly I don't want you anywhere near my family."
"Well, your family just up and left, so I'd say we're in the clear," She says with a slight chuckle.
I look at her, feeling my blood boil. "You've gotten what you wanted from me, Cat. I went on the skating date, I kissed you—"
"And you meant it, too. Can't fake passion like that, Spencie. It's just not possible," She wraps her hand around my arm. "And actually, I haven't gotten everything I wanted from you. Remember what we talked about?"
I shake my head at her and pull my arm out of her grip. "I'm not having sex with you. A kiss was far enough and it's something that Allie and I will probably never recover from."
"You know you want to, deep down—"
"You've always wanted to take everything from me, the same way I took everything from you. You did it. My life is in shambles. You can—"
Before I can finish my sentence, a loud crashing noise cuts me off. It's followed by a car horn stuck blaring.
"That doesn't sound good," Tara looks in the direction of the noise.
"I'm gonna drive down and make sure everyone's okay," JJ says, gesturing to the cars at the side of the road.
I don't think much of it, just turn my attention back to Cat.
"You can tell me where Josh is and head on your way."
She looks upset, a mixture of sad and angry. "Juliet told me that she was keeping him on an old family property. That's all I know."
"I'll let Garcia know," Luke says simply.
I hear a phone ring and look over to see Emily pulling hers from her pocket.
"You guys can take her," I gesture to Cat before walking back into the garage.
"Spencer, wait," I hear Emily's voice and stop in my tracks, turning around to see her walking toward me.
"What's wrong?" I ask her, noting the obvious worry on her face.
"It's Allie," She holds her phone out to me.
'JJ' is the name on the call screen and I feel my heart drop into my stomach. I take the phone from her and bring it up to my ear.
"JJ?"
"Spence, you need to get down here. Now."
I hand the phone back to Emily and get the keys to one of the SUVs from her before running toward it, hopping in, and taking off.
As I approach the intersection, I get sick to my stomach. First responders have already arrived and it looks like the accident involved three cars. Allie's is off to the side in the ditch.
My heart aches. I just hope they're all okay.
I stop the car as close to Allie's as I can and break out into a sprint. The back doors are open and it seems that the babies were taken in their car seats by paramedics.
As soon as I make it around to the front of the car, I can feel bile rise in my esophagus.
JJ stands beside the open back doors of the only ambulance in sight. She spots me and waves me over, and that's when I see the car seats inside the ambulance. Two paramedics stand over them.
My eyes return to the car, the blood staining shards of glass from the windshield...
There's a section of glass missing in a certain area of the windshield, directly in front of the driver's seat.
Kids first, then I'll investigate. It looks like Allie has already been taken by paramedics.
I rush over to JJ and she introduces me as the babies' father to the paramedics. Both Joshua and Winter are screaming their heads off.
"Okay, Dad. Good news," A paramedic with the last name Warren sewn into her uniform shirt begins. "Your babies seem just fine, just a little bit shaken up. We're going to take them to the emergency room just to be sure, but thankfully, they were fastened into their car seats correctly."
She gestures for me to come closer and I do, giving Joshua and Winter each kisses and talking to them for a minute. They calm down as soon as they see me. I'm so glad that they're okay.
I look back up at Warren and gesture back outside. "I'm going to grab my fiancée's things from her car and I'll head to the hospital— Inova is the closest, correct?"
She nods. "That's right. We'll see you there."
After I hop off of the ambulance, they close the doors and head off, leaving me with JJ.
"They took Allie already?" I ask her, feeling my chest tighten up. "Did you see her?"
She nods, looking down at the ground. "She was partially ejected from the windshield, unconscious..."
I think back to when she left...
"She wasn't wearing her seatbelt," I choke out, tears building up in my eyes. "She could die and it'd be my fault. The last thing I said to her was 'run away like you always do'."
JJ looks up at me, her features laced with guilt. "She'll be okay, Spence. She'll come home."
I shake my head, the tears falling down my cheeks now. "We don't know that. The odds of surviving—"
"Spence," She stops me. "Just this once, don't think about the odds. Just... think about the future with her. You guys have a wedding to look forward to, and all of the first words and first days of school with your kids."
"I was so horrible to her..."
JJ rests her hand on my arm. "What happened?"
"I didn't know she was home, I told her to go to Derek's. She was supposed to be there—"
"What happened when you got inside with Cat?"
I stare down at my shoes and think back to it...
The hurt in her eyes... the way she looked at me.
"She saw me and Cat, she... got upset. There was no reason to be upset, I... I was only doing it to get information out of Cat..."
"Spence," JJ sighs. "Think about it as if the roles were reversed. She wasn't supposed to be there and you two barge in like that— she was probably wondering how far it would have gone if she'd stayed at Morgan's. To top it off, she's still hormonal. Maybe she didn't rationalize, but can you blame her? I don't even know what your real intentions were with Cat once you got behind the door. The things you said to her at the roller rink—"
I cut her off, finally looking up at her. "What are you implying?"
"I think the only reason that you play the Cat game so well is because even you don't know where you stand with her. I think that there was some truth behind those things you said to Cat. What you said about how things never really went back to normal after what happened to Allie and--"
"Stop it," I talk over her once again.
She keeps going, though. "--how you felt obligated to propose to her, to take care of her because life hadn't been kind to her and you wanted to protect her--"
I shake my head at her. "That's enough."
"But the insecurity was always too much; how she compared herself to Maeve, how she left whenever things became too much--"
"I said enough!" I raise my voice at her. "You don't know anything about my relationship with Allie."
She looks down, crossing her arms and shaking her head slightly. "Maybe not, but I know you. I've known you for the better part of twenty years-- and I know all of those things that you said to Cat were... on some level, true. You played it up for her, but... everything that you said was true."
My stomach aches, twisting and turning.
She's right.
I hate that she's right.
I don't even say anything back to her, I just head to Allie's car and carefully open up the passenger's side door. There's blood spilled over the dashboard, it dripped down the console and onto the floor. It makes me feel even more sick than I already felt. I want to throw up, I want to scream. I need to get her things and get to the hospital. Her pink and white striped purse sits on the floor of the passenger's side.
I got it last year for her birthday-- she was so thrilled.
I knew she wanted it. I'd sat on the couch while she laid down with her head resting on my thigh, looking at clothes on her laptop. She bookmarked the purse, but I knew she'd never get it for herself because of the price tag. She has some expensive clothes, but since I've met her, she hasn't bought herself anything really expensive. I ordered it for her after she fell asleep for the night.
Now, beads of blood line the quilted hearts of the bag. I try to dab them off with my sleeve, but it's already stained. I look for her registration and insurance cards next, finding them in her glove compartment. I survey the scene once more before stepping back and closing the door.
JJ has left, people are working on clearing up debris...
I hop in the SUV and make my way to the hospital, feeling numb the entire drive there. I'm terrified to get an update on Allie. What if she was gone by the time they reached the hospital? What if she's too weak to make it through a surgery?
I can't believe she didn't put her seatbelt on...
She always does.
Maybe she was just too upset... she just wanted to get away from me...
JJ was right-- she did have a right to be upset. Who am I to pick what she can and can't be hurt by? I'd be hurt if the roles were reversed...
The babies look fine, I was told to keep an eye on them and make sure they're acting normal for the next few weeks. It may be hard to tell what 'normal' is with newborns, though.
I spend an hour with the twins before Derek and Savannah come to take them off of my hands while I wait for Allie.
I'm exhausted and fighting to stay awake as I wait. I've been texting back and forth with my team to let them know how things are going. Every time they ask for updates, I come back empty handed, telling them I don't have any.
The good news from them is that Josh was found safe and sound. He'd had access to food and water, but the food supply was quickly depleting. He was taken to a hospital to be checked out.
It's been six hours since Derek and Savannah picked the twins up. Every single time I see movement, I look up in hopes that someone will walk over to me and tell me something, anything.
Finally, a woman about my age with curly, ginger hair and glasses walks my way. Dr. Francine Delaney, her ID badge and lab coat read.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Delaney. You're Dr. Spencer Reid, correct?" She asks, earning a nod from me. "Miss Taylor has listed you as her emergency contact during prior visits."
"She's my fiancée. Is... is she okay?"
"Dr. Reid," The doctor sighs. "She was in very bad shape when paramedics arrived. She wasn't breathing, they placed an endotracheal tube in her windpipe before transporting her. None of her vital organs were seriously injured, but she did suffer a few broken ribs and a skull fracture. But we did find on a CT scan that there is widespread swelling of the brain— common for traumatic head injuries sustained during collisions like this. As of now, that trauma to her brain has impaired her consciousness—"
I feel my heart snap with every single word Dr. Delaney says to me, but the fact that Allie hasn't woken up hit me extremely hard.
I cut her off, tears making their way back into my eyes. "Sh-she's in a coma?"
"I'm afraid so," She says with a frown, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "A coma can progress into—"
"I know," I accidentally cut her off again. "I know."
Vegetative state, minimal consciousness, possible brain death...
"But she could always wake up."
I nod in agreement. She could wake up.
Though, I'm sure the chances that she returns to normal are low.
"Can I see her?" My voice is croaky as I ask the doctor this.
She nods and tells me to follow her before leading me to the inpatient room that they've already placed Allie in.
I feel sick to my stomach when I see her. The sight practically kills me.
She's hooked up to the ventilator, the tube leading into her mouth. A blood pressure cuff sits on her right upper arm. She's got an IV, a heart monitor... anything and everything that she could possibly need. Tubes and wires run up and down her bed and I couldn't even begin to explain what they're all for. Even I don't know.
A section of her hair has been shaved on the left side of her head, surrounding a large incision, now held together with staples. I want her to open her eyes, to smile at me, to tell me that she's okay...
"I'll leave you alone with her," Dr. Delaney says, pulling my attention from Allie. "If you have any questions..." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a card, grabbing a pen, too before scribbling something down in the back. "I don't normally do this, but I heard that you two are new parents and you might not be able to get here everyday. I wrote down my cell phone number so that you can contact me directly for updates."
I nod, taking the card from in between her fingers. "I really appreciate it."
She nods and heads out, closing the door behind her.
So many people have recounted being able to hear while they were in comas...
I hope she hears me...
I roll the chair to the side of her bed and take a seat, putting her purse down on the floor beside me before grabbing her hand and gently press a kiss to her knuckles. Her ring is gone, of course. But there's a noticeable tan line where it once sat. She rarely ever took it off...
"I'm so sorry..." I cry softly, my entire body shaking with the sobs that come after. "God, I'm so sorry."
I press more kisses to her hand, looking up at her, envisioning those pretty brown eyes fluttering open. She'd blink and I'd be swept away by the wind her long eyelashes created...
She'd hug me, she'd tell me that she's not going anywhere...
She would run her hands through my hair and hold onto me, kiss the top of my head...
I can't help but think of the last thing I said to her.
Go ahead and run away like you always do.
It could be the very last thing she heard me say. Our very last interaction...
I give her hand a squeeze and take a deep breath.
"Sometimes, when people have woken up from being in a coma, they can recall people talking to them. So, it's possible that you can hear me... and that you just can't respond," I say softly, trying to steady my voice. The crying is making it pitchy. "God, I wish you could..." Tears come even faster now. I stare at her face and just about lose it. "Please wake up. Please."
I feel my cell phone buzz in my pocket and grab it. Penelope.
"Hello?" I ask after hitting 'accept' and bringing the phone up to my ear.
"How is she? Is she okay? How are you?" Garcia asks, sounding frantic. "I'm sorry that I didn't call sooner, I've been helping look after your marvelous babies, but Derek said he hadn't heard from you in hours— no one has heard from you in hours."
I step into the hallway with the call before telling her, "They don't know if she'll wake up."
I hear a sharp inhale, followed by a few seconds of silence. "Well, she'll be okay. You know the odds better than any of us. She's gonna be okay, right?"
I stare down at my shoes, feeling my chest tighten up again. "It... it doesn't look good. The odds aren't really in her favor."
Penelope is quick to reassure me, though. "Spencer, if there's anything that this family is good at, it's defying the odds. She'll pull through, okay? Don't lose hope."
"I'm trying not to."
"And you know that you can bring the babies into work, and anytime you need a break, anytime you need to go to be with her, we'll take them. Derek, me, Emily, JJ, Tara— everyone. We're all in this with you, you're not going through it alone."
"Thank you, Garcia."
"You take care of yourself, okay? If you want to stay the night there, we have the kids handled. Alright?"
"I appreciate that. Just... keep me updated, okay? Send me pictures."
"Oh, I'm way ahead of you. Look at your text messages!"
"Okay, hold on," I pull the phone away from my face and pull down the notification bar, seeing a bunch of unread text messages, mostly pictures from Penelope, but plenty from everyone, including JJ. I click on Penelope's messages and go through four photos of Winter and Joshua. They look happy, smiling in each of the photos. I can't help but to smile back at them. "They've got little smiles," I bring the phone back to my ear. "I'm glad they're okay after everything."
"I know, so am I. And right? They're so smiley. I think they must be happy campers."
"Actually, babies don't smile socially until at least the second month of life. However, they do begin to mimic smiles as soon as the first thirty-six hours after birth. So, it's really just them mirroring all of us smiling at them."
I hear her laugh. "Well, they look cute while smiling, even if it isn't a happiness smile. Anyway, I'll let you go."
"Thanks again, Garcia. I'll talk to you soon."
"Okay," She tells me. "Have faith, Spencer. We'll get through this."
"I hope so," I nod before hanging up and heading back into the room.
I reclaim my seat beside Allie's bed and reach for her purse. I'm only now noticing how heavy it is.
"What do you keep in this purse?" I ask her, knowing I won't get an answer back.
I debate going through it. I feel like I'm invading her privacy.
I just want to feel more connected to her. Right now, I feel completely and utterly alone.
I open it up and look inside. The first thing my eyes land on is a glass jar.
Is that... ?
I pull it out and look at the top. Sure enough, my handwriting on the lid reads: 'What I Love About You'.
I gave this to her for Christmas...
She carries it with her?
I turn the jar to look at the inside. There's now a mixture of the tiny, cream-colored paper rolls that I put in there— and various pastel-colored ones. There's also not nearly as many left as I put in initially.
I unscrew the jar and grab one of the colorful ones, carefully taking the rubber band off and unrolling the paper.
On the inside in Allie's handwriting...
'I love the way that you stick out your tongue just a tiny bit while you're focusing!'
She's doing it for me, now...
Writing down the things she loves about me, rolling them up, and putting them in this jar. She was probably going to give it to me for my birthday or Christmas.
It takes an insane amount of self control not to read anymore of them. I set the jar down on the nightstand and move on, finding her wallet next.
A blue wallet with clouds and rainbows... it looks older, with scuffed edges and slight discoloration. Nonetheless, it's very Allie.
I open it up, my eyes automatically going to her license photo. It's from two years ago. Her hair was still pink with the rainbow bangs, bright pink lipstick coated her huge smile. She looks beautiful, she looks happy. She had the entire world in front of her. She was in college, just getting her life started.
I look up from the picture, looking at her now. Platinum blonde hair, brown roots grown out from nine months of not bleaching them. No smile, no bright eyes...
It's hard to believe that's the same girl.
I took everything away from her.
She wanted to make music. She was in that band for awhile, even played me a few demos they'd put together. They were really good, too. Then it fizzled out. I don't even know why. I think she was too focused on me...
She likes her job now, she makes good money— but it's not what she really wants to be doing. She wanted to make her own music, not record and mix someone else's.
It's settling. So that she could be with me.
I remember her telling me about everything she wanted to do, everything she wanted to try...
"There's so much that I want to do, y'know? I want to...dip my hands into everything. Art, music, writing, directing. All of these things, but I can't seem to settle on one."
I can hear her saying it in my head, I can remember exactly how she looked, sat across from me in that diner. It was her birthday, we'd left the bar together.
And she came home with me because it was raining. We kissed, we... sort of almost had sex. When I pieced together that it was her first time, she got embarrassed, got upset and left. Even though I told her she didn't have to, told her I didn't want her to.
It was the first time she walked out on me.
Then, our second falling out was the text message that I accidentally sent. She didn't talk it out with me, didn't let me explain... then, she blocked my number.
I can't blame her, though. For any of it, really. For any time that she walked out. Sometimes I forget that this is her very first relationship. She's gotten better at talking things out, especially since Phoenix, when I almost didn't make it after getting shot and she flew out. Still, she's learning— she had to grow up quickly after her parents died, probably even start to handle things on her own before that. We didn't talk in depth about it, but she'd told me about how she was tormented in school, for her looks, her weight. She just took it, never fought with the kids that picked on her or reported them...
I'm sure she just ran away from them. It's what she knew how to do, to keep herself from hurting... so, naturally, it's what she did with me when I hurt her.
She should have walked away then, after I sent that text message. Spare herself from everything I'd put her through. She'd be doing something great, I know it.
I took everything from her. I took her dreams away. I took her color...
I took her light away.
Was she even really ready to have kids? To get married?
She couldn't have been. I know, deep down, no matter how much she'd deny it...
She wasn't ready for any of this. She didn't want kids right now.
She only did it for me, because she loves me.
And because of the first time she got pregnant. God, she'd felt so guilty for the longest time. For 'taking away' my chance at being a father. She said then that she would do it to make me happy, even if it meant she wouldn't be.
Was that what she was doing now?
I close her wallet and put it back in her bag. I need some fresh air.
"I'm gonna step outside, I'll be right back," I tell her, pressing a kiss to her hand once again. Just incase.
I head out the door and get on the elevator, riding it down to the first level and heading outside, taking a deep breath once I'm beyond the doors.
She gave up everything for me, for what I wanted.
Her room at her apartment was so colorful, so bright. Our decor now isn't even close, in fact, a lot of it is from my apartment. She shoved a lot of her stuff into the basement and said that we should put my things out and build up around them. The most color is the nursery that we painted together— the pastel rainbow accent wall, and the other three minty green walls. Occasionally, we'll use her bed spread and it'll add color to our room.
While she still dressed in color before getting pregnant, as she got bigger, the high school clothes came out— the black wardrobe.
Every single drop of color was squeezed out of her. Everything that made her Allie, that made her unique. It was all wiped away for me, down to the clothes— because she carried those children for me.
I took over everything, I painted over every rainbow-colored wall.
It's no wonder she never felt good enough. I was clinging onto this vision of Maeve for awhile there, and then when I finally let that go, when we started to move on from it, Allie tucked herself away into boxes and let me take over.
I ruined her.