Spencer Reid Oneshots~ by writing-in-april

Converging Parallels~ Spencer Reid x Single Mom Reader (ANGST)

Summary: Spencer goes to a grief support group Penelope suggested for him after the death of Maeve. He connects with a single mom who's had an eerily similar experience as his.
Warnings: Angst with a hopeful ending, General dealings with death and grief, Mentions of Maeve's death, Reader's a widow, Guilt about moving on, Reader's child is a daughter
Word Count: 1.6k

Parallel lines were never supposed to meet, they were set on a strict path following in a similar direction with no hope of ever converging. At least that's what was the widely accepted definition by anyone with any authority in the field of mathematics.
My own math degree was being contested by a set of two lines set on a collision course with each other, though they were not supposed to. Logically I knew that the two lines were not beholden to any mathematical equation as I was referring to two human lives.
We were set on a similar course, only slight differences that seemingly were leading us to different destinations, or at least I tried to convince myself that. I tried every night to convince myself that she was only a friend, that it wasn't what she wanted and I was desecrating the memory of the person I still claimed to be the only person I loved.
Logically I knew that by forcing where I wanted our relationship to go, what I thought the universe wanted to happen wasn't what I truly wanted. The reason I had boxed us in so vehemently was only because I was scared and guilty, I knew it too. I wanted us to converge, but logic doesn't always win out when dealing with guilt.
It had all started with Garcia mentioning that I should consider going to a grief support group after the death of Maeve. Every action I took was being weighed down by her death, whether I cared to admit it or not.
Garcia had good intentions when she suggested going to this meeting to me, of that I was sure. It isn't that I saw no reason to go to the support group, I just knew that it would dreg up all the unwanted feelings that bombarded me enough already.
The flier in my hands felt heavy even though it was made of paper it weighed my hands down enough where I almost dropped it. I could have let it go then to have it fly away, being taken by the wind, that would let me forget about it. But, I knew it would have only made me forget for a short while, I'd inevitably get questions from Garcia and my own mind wouldn't let me forget the reality of what had happened. And, logically I knew that it would most likely help. So instead of letting the wind take it away, I crumpled the paper slightly in my hands out of frustration, moving my feet forward one step at a time to enter the building.
That's where I had first met her. When I first walked in I didn't immediately lock eyes with her or anything, my eyes were too fixated on the ground for that to happen.
I only noticed her when she was invited to tell her story. Her strength instantly captivated me, almost making me feel like a failure at first. Her story of how she lost her husband was eerily similar in some aspects, especially the cause of his death. The feeling of failure on my part to be strong swirled in my gut as she recounted her struggles that were so starkly similar to mine. She even had a young daughter to take care of as well, she often spoke of her whenever she told her story, almost neglecting herself sometimes- which she admitted she knew she needed to work on.
However, when she came up to me to talk after the meeting was concluded my opinion switched to view her as inspiring. We began getting coffee after each meeting, sometimes talking for hours, sometimes sitting in silence. Whatever I needed she was there to give it to me, whenever she needed help I wanted to be there too.
To see our almost parallel lives begin to converge at first felt like someone had driven a car into traffic about to collide straight into my path. My mind would not stop arguing about whether or not I should pull away from her or not, like guilt was on shoulder and my potential happiness was on the other.
—-
Guilt was eating away at me from the inside out slowly, that part of my mind would not stop clawing away any good aspect of my relationship with Y/N. The relationship between us had shifted in recent weeks, tension invading what had once been a simply platonic connection formed through our shared experiences. When it became clear to me what our lingering stares and touches were leading to, guilt had reared its ugly head to burrow its way down deep and take root.
It had disrupted my sleep even more than usual, nightmares ranging from Maeve guilting me to the visuals of her death. The images of Maeve and any time I had shared with her invaded my brain at all hours of the night, haunting me. I scrunched my eyes up tight, maybe that would banish the images from my brain. That only made the guilt worse it seemed as I now felt double the guilt for wanting to banish the thoughts about a person I still claimed to love.
My hand hit the pillow in frustration, then grabbing it and throwing it to some unknown location across the room. Sitting up, no longer being able to tolerate laying down knowing that sleep would never come, made my exhausted joints beg me to lay back down. I leaned forward to put my head in my hands, also tangling my curls with my fingers. I tried to think about what Y/N had said to me at one of the first meetings I had attended, my normally impeccable memory struggled as the memory of Maeve's bloodied face would not leave. Screaming internally was the only thing that seemed to work to push the words I was looking for forward,
"I try to think about something my therapist told me- Although it's difficult today to see beyond the sorrow, May looking back in memory help comfort you tomorrow."
The quote wasn't something groundbreaking or new, though the origins were unknown. But, the words still struck me deep everytime I forced my memory to call back on them.
The words she had spoken in the meeting when talking about her husband made me want to try too. She inspired me whenever she told snippets of her story to me or the rest of the group, her story had been similar to mine- with the added element of having a daughter to raise on her own.
Her strength was what had drawn me to her initially, like a moth to flame. Our relationship wasn't even a friendship at first, just two people sharing advice (more her giving it to me) about how to deal with crippling grief.
What had blossomed since then from death and decay had thrown me for a loop. I hadn't been expecting for this to happen, I never even thought romance would be an option for me again. I thought that I would have one great love and that our time in the sun had ended along with any option for romantic interests in the future.
Then she came along and spun my thinking upside down, not that I blamed her at all for it. She originally had just reached out to help me, not to pursue any romantic connection purposefully while I was vulnerable.
She continued to stay with me to help despite my urge to push her away even though that's not what I wanted. I tried hard to convince myself that our lives were never meant to connect, that we were destined to remain apart.
It took many more sleepless nights for me to realize what I hadn't seen for so long, even with Y/N reassuring me at every turn. Maeve would want me to be happy, I was sure of it. So I'd try to let myself, no longer letting myself get hindered by my own swirling thoughts of guilt that Maeve wouldn't have wanted me to feel.
—-
Asking her out on a date had been surprisingly easy once I had let go a little of my guilt. We had chosen to go somewhere different than a coffee shop, since we already did that often. I took her out to more of an upscale restaurant than she was used to, which may be too fancy for some for a first date, but she deserved it. She worked so hard to take care of her daughter and even me to some extent.
At the end of the night we were both standing outside her door ready to go in to relieve the babysitter for the night. I had already given her a chaste kiss for the night, even though my nerves kept trying to talk me out of it. I was about to say goodbye when she grabbed my wrist to hold in her hands. She looked afraid at first, almost like she wondered if I wouldn't like her touching me. Touch may bother me with most people, but she wasn't most people, I'd happily share germs with her. When I did not pull away relief was evident in her eyes, then taking a big breath before speaking,
"Would you like to meet my daughter?" Her voice was shaky, understandably full of worry.
"Of course." In the past hesitation would have littered my voice if she had asked me the same question. But, my thoughts had been slowly shifting to want our lines to converge fully and with no fear. Sure, Maeve would always capture a place in my heart, but I was ready for our lives to collide. Our parallel lives converged into one line, with a set path forward. It may get derailed from its intended path, but we would be stronger together than apart.