In Case // Spencer Reid x Reader
It had been 3 months since you walked out the door and took his heart with you.
Spencer had dealt with heartbreak before but this seemed to hurt more than anything he’d ever experienced. It was something that left him feeling hollow, as if he was just a shell of the man he had been when you had loved him. He would wake in the middle of the night with his face covered in tears, his cries loud enough to worry his neighbors. His sobs shook him to his core and he was left gasping for air. It was as if you had taken even the air he breathed.
He didn’t blame you. You didn’t blame him either. Relationships were always difficult. Even couples with stable jobs felt the pressure that came along with being together. Relationships needed time, dedication, patience. You both had managed for a long time, but it just wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to be irrevocably in love with each other. Those passion filled hours where the two of you would roll around in bed, the bed frame shaking and sheets soaked with the sweat of your bodies- they weren’t enough to fill the void that came from time spent alone when he was gone.
The beginning had been beautiful. It had been a rush, a feeling of ecstasy as you both fell head over heels for each other. Movie dates, book readings, art museums, nights in- your life had gained a new reason to wake every morning and you’d been gifted someone to say goodnight to every night. It was a love that brought smiles to even the youngest of children who could see just how much adoration there was between you.
He’d begun to take you for granted after a few years. Before he had always made sure to call, to send flowers when he’d miss special occasions just to make sure you didn’t feel so lonely. Years passed and his phone calls turned into texts which turned into one worded replies and after a while you’d be lucky to even get a goodnight message. But his job was rough and he’d be exhausted when the night came so you tried your best to think nothing of it. You both knew the other loved you.
That was his most fatal mistake. Words were just words unless acted upon. He knew he loved you. He knew you loved him. You never once stopped saying so. He tried his best to show he cared but in the end it wasn’t enough. He was a fool to think he could simply come home and wrap his arms around you and expect you to be okay. Love was more than good looks and sex. It was more than sleeping beside each other for a few days a week. Love was a garden, something beautiful that bloomed in great colors when it was nurtured and he had stopped tending to it, so his surprise when it had died out was unjustified. He knew this and it ate away at him every night.
For weeks he would pick up his phone and dial your number only to hang up as soon as the line rang. He was being selfish. He wanted you back more than anything, but he knew he would never give up his job. He knew you would never ask him to do that either. You loved him, that much he knew. He had seen it in your eyes when you had told him you had to go. He had seen the tears fighting to stay back as you fought to remain strong. You loved him so much you had let him go.
Spencer wanted you to be happy but the thought of you with someone else tore his soul apart. He’d often sit alone for hours and run scenarios through his head. He thought about what he would have done differently- he would have called you that one night he knew you were feeling ill, would have told Hotch he couldn’t leave when your mother had been in the hospital, would’ve sent you something better when he missed Valentine’s Day. These were all useless thoughts of course. It was too late for any of that. Funny how you only think of ways to fix things once they’re unable to be mended.
He found himself in the bottom of a bottle one night. He had picked it up on his way home from work and had drank the evening away. It was unusual behavior for someone who only ever drank on special occasions and never had more than one shot of whatever liquor was being served. But he had fallen into a drunken mess as he held a photograph of you in his hands which was soon replaced with his phone.
He got your voicemail, and instead of hanging up he began to talk. He left an incoherent string of sobs and ‘I love you’s’ as he begged you to come back. He would change. He would work less, he would be there for you. He wanted to marry you, he wanted to be he father of your children. You would buy a house in the suburbs where the kids would play in the yard. He would love you like never before. He still loved you now.
The message had taken you by surprise the next morning. Spencer was never much of a drinker and the drunken slur in his words immediately worried you. You couldn’t help the tears that spilled onto your face as you heard his begging, the pain in his voice strongly mirroring your own. Every day you had fought the urge to call him, to tell him you loved him and wanted to come back. You had convinced yourself that Spencer needed to find someone who his affections came for easily. Someone who wouldn’t have to worry about whether he’d call you that night because they knew he would. You replayed the message as your head spun, your emotions washing away your reasoning.
Spencer cringed when he awoke the next morning and looked at his phone. Twelve times. He had called your phone twelve times. He cursed at himself when he realized the last call had lasted a full five minutes which could only mean you either picked up or he had left a message. He figured it didn’t matter which one it had been, his drunken state would have only reinforced your idea that you were better off without him.
Spencer sat in his bed for hours. He looked around with his back against the wall, and mentally picked out the things you had left behind.
There was a small photo book lodged beneath a growing pile of his own books that had been abandoned. A bottle of perfume that was nearly finished still sat on his dresser. Two jackets that had been in the dirty laundry when you had left now hung clean in his closet. These were all things he had kept in case you ever decided to come home.
It had been 3 months since he lost a piece of himself.
He was so lost in thought that he had almost missed the fact his phone had lit up, a picture of your smiling face staring at him. He sat frozen for a moment before he scrambled to grab it, his hands shaking as he hit the answer button.
“I love you. Please come home,” he spoke before you could say anything. His entire body shook as he waited for your response, the gentle sound of your breathing enough to unsettle him. He held his own breath as he awaited your reply, silently begging that you wouldn’t simply hang up. Finally you spoke and he felt his entire being melt at the sound of your voice.
It had been 3 months since he’d smiled, but that simple word was enough to bring him tears of joy.