my tears ricochet [s.r. + e.g.]

but there was happiness because of you

Finally got around to writing this! this focuses on Elle, while chapter two will focus on Spencer. I am so so sorry for the delays. Hope y'all enjoy the T Swift references. 

September 2005

"Before his Son of Sam murders, David Berkowitz set a multitude of fires."

"Exactly how much is a multitude?"

"According to his diary, one thousand four hundred and..."

"Eighty-eight."

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February 2015

Elle:

Alone in the cheap hotel room she had inhibited for five nights, Elle Greenaway again found herself looking at the crumpled piece of paper with her former friend - (could he be called a friend?)'s number. With each passing glance at his rushed handwriting, she felt herself being persuaded into calling him. Every time she picked up her phone to call, her mind seemingly made up an excuse not to. It was easier to pretend he hadn't given her a route of communication than it was to admit that she was afraid of reaching out to him.

Finally, she decided it would be best to text him. Her father had taught her to never tempt fate, to let things that were supposed to happen happen. The universe, she decided, had pushed them together and it would be foolish to not listen. Elle began pacing the small space of her hotel room aimlessly, lost in thought and burdened with the past she had pushed away for years. 

Her pondering of the past led her to one particular bubbly blonde. Penelope Garcia had never been her best friend. The two of them liked each other, sure, but it hadn't been like her other relationships that had developed at the BAU. Their friendship only worked because of JJ and Derek, as Elle and Penelope never spent time together without either of the other two present. Sometimes things between the two of them were even strained because of their strong personalities and how they could clash. 

Her reminiscing was cut short by two light knocks on the door. 

All the air felt like it had left her lungs. No matter how much time had gone by, regardless of the years of therapy she had attended, and besides her extensive research of how safe the area she was staying in was, she felt incredibly panicked. She promptly stopped her pacing and crept closer to the door. Peeking into the peephole, she was surprised yet again by the universe's current treatment of her.

Letting out a few curses, both in English and in Spanish, she opened the door to the blonde who had had her questioning her whole existence only a few moments ago.

"Elle! You look great. Your hair is so pretty- not that it didn't look nice short! Did you get my email?"

Mirroring the smirks that she had constantly used when making fun of the men on her former team, she nodded and tried to think of how she would play her cards. 

"That is so great! Not the Gideon part, that's really not. How're you doing?" 

"I'm alright." 

"Have you seen any other members of the team? There's this new agent named Kate who you would totally hit it off with."

"No, no contact with the team," she lied, "Can we stop ignoring the fact that you went against at least three rules to contact me?" 

"Elle you don't understand-"

"I don't need to understand why you did it, I need to understand why it was you who told me. I would've read about it in some obscure newspaper eventually, but instead, I got an email from you."

Before Penelope could even explain, her phone began to ring. Picking it up and okay-ing whoever had been calling her a million times, she gave Elle an apologetic look and then promptly hung up. 

"It's fine Garcia, go. It was nice seeing you."

Opening her mouth, and then closing it, Penelope nodded. Her heels clicked on her way to the door and once she stepped out, Elle could still hear the light clicking against the ancient tiles of the hotel. She sighed uncomfortably and brought out her own phone, along with the slip of paper. 

I know you have a case but let me know when you get back, please. 

She would get no response until he was actually back, that much she knew. He took things very literally, or at least he had in his younger years. She knew nothing about him now. After sending him a text, she pulled up the search engine and looked up Maeve Catherine Donavan. Upon seeing the photo of the young woman, she sighed yet again and pondered the whereabouts of Boy Wonder since she had left. 

Finally giving up for the night, she walked to the bathroom for a lukewarm shower. Showers had become incredibly scary for Elle. The confinement and the vulnerability and the likeliness of being attacked again were higher in her traumatized mind. To be fair, she had learned how to not panic over most things, she could sleep on most nights, and had made a friend or two. She stopped drinking for the most part, but something as stupid as showering, especially in places not native to her, was hard. 

She was more of a bath person now. The hotel bathroom had become less foreign to her now, with its stand-up shower that she had to wear flip flops in or else she'd gag and its lack of a bathtub. She turned on the water and tried to relax. Everything was okay. Finishing quickly, she shut the water off, put her pajamas on, and sat at the tiny table in the chair that faced the door. 

A chair like this was very familiar to Elle. It had been a chair very similar to this that she had drank gin and thought about taking the law into her own hands. She carried a lot of regrets, most of which started in a chair facing a hotel room door. 

Hotels had begun to mean goodbye nine years ago. They were one last drink and a hug and a "goodnight." They were impermanent in nature, just as her friendship with Reid had been. The chair across from hers was just like the one he had sat in when they had last been friends. A chair like that had ended it all, and if she was careful enough, she could watch it all begin again.