Ghost of You ~ Spencer Reid

Ch. 2 | Is this Home

"Nobody said it was easy. No one ever said it'd be so hard."
- The Scientist, Coldplay

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March, 2019:

I've only been back a week, but Emily and her superiors have agreed to give me at least a month off, despite my protests. As exhausted as I was, I think too much time alone with my own thoughts would've made everything worse. It was a Wednesday night, and I was bored out of mind. I glanced over at the empty and discarded Chinese food boxes and sighed as I added yet another to the stack. From there I walk into my room to glance at the stack of books at the foot of my bed. The covers faded bit by bit from where they'd been sitting in sunlight, dust coating from the covers to the spines. I'd already read them all, and they were probably about 15 years over due, but I had a good excuse and an FBI badge, so with nothing better to do, I shoved them in a bag and made my way to the library.

The walk wasn't too long, and the heat not terribly bad as I made my way down the sidewalk. A mere few blocks later, I was met by the cedar double doors. I smiled, wrapping my fingers around the handle, making my way inside.

First thing, I returned the books and explained where'd they'd been. The librarian wasn't the same as the one from years ago. That one was older, her hair constantly in a bun, this one was younger, her face more smiley. She assured me it wouldn't be a problem, so I thanked her and turned on my heels to weave through the mazes of shelves, collecting new things to read as I went.

I smiled as I found a nice couch and plopped myself down onto the soft seats, plucking a book from my stack.

I tried to read a biography that's been gathering rave reviews, but got bored before starting a new fantasy novel and finally getting more settled into it. Before too long, I'd found a good rhythm and peace within the silence, a silence that hasn't been a luxury of mine for nearly fifteen years. It was always loud in New York.

I sighed as I shut the front cover of the novel, satisfied with the ending; After finding her lover faked his death, the hero vanquished her enemy once and for all. I glance over at the stack of books beside me once more, suddenly feeling bored with my choices. I slowly got to my feet and leaned down to pick up the books from the table beside me.  I took my time as I went to put the books away, admiring the floors of books that surrounded the grand hall. I've decided that this is my favorite public library of all time. While the New York Public Library and the Epiphany Library certainly rival this place, this one wins. DC has always been home in my heart, no matter how long I've been away.

It was in that moment that as I was admiring the tall shelves of books that nearly met the ceiling, that a figure caught my eye. He was just down the aisle across from me in the behavioral sciences aisle. He was lanky and tall, and it burns me to say I almost didn't recognize him.  I notice a familiar pair of glasses perched on his nose.

I don't know what to do or what to say, so I tried my best to walk away before he could see me. To my dismay, my foot got caught under the other and I tripped, spilling all my books to the floor.

fuck.

I hope he didn't hear that. He looked so focused that it's entirely possible that my fall didn't even go noticed, but as I collected myself and stood up and leaned down to grab my things, he turned to the side, and over to me stepped Spencer Reid. His tie was loosened around his neck and he was missing a suit jacket, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled-up at the elbows. His curls furled down from his head, the new cut would take me some getting used to.

"Y/n?" He says, his voice almost a whisper, filled with something I couldn't place whether it be animosity, surprise, or genuine care. I stared at him a moment, before returning to grab at the hardbacks that were littered on the floor.

"Hey, Spencer! Didn't see you there," I tried to say with a smile, but it's a weak attempt at  making amends. "You've gotten taller."

"Seriously?" He breaths, his eyes still looking unfamiliar but not quite void. "I've gotten taller? That's the first thing you wanna say to me?" I hesitate, standing to feel somewhat in more control than I was truly, his height feeling as if it was towering over me.

"Reid, I...I don't know what I'm supposed to say," I sighed, placing the stack of books on a shelf behind me, before turning back to face him. He was no longer looking at me but quickly scanning the titles I'd sat on the shelf. "What do you want me to say?" I ask, not being able to withstand the silence much longer. The pressure of his gaze whipped back to me.

"I woke up and you were gone. The most 'goodbye' I ever got was you telling me you'd be there. But you weren't," he explained, not quite seething with anger but certainly not overjoyed by the situation. He wanted an apology. An apology that I didn't know how to give to him. An apology that if I did give, I'd have to explain and relive the past fifteen years. Something I never wanted to do again. "What even made you think it'd be okay to come back?"

"This is my home," I whispered, taken slightly aback from how alien I felt from him. I loved him once, but now I didn't have a clue who he was. It was a strange shift that neither of us knew how to handle. I can't tell if he ever loved me back, and he honestly probably didn't but I at least know I'm not alone; swimming in a river of confused pain, that I have no clue how to navigate, stuck in a riptide.

"Yeah, fifteen years ago," He scoffed, turning back to the aisle he came from. "Do us a favor, and transfer units. It'll be easier for everyone if you do."

"Excuse me," I gasped, hurt by his words but mostly, only, because they are true.

"You heard me," he stated, returning to his books and disappearing from my view. I hate missing him all the time.

Maybe this wasn't home after all. Part of what made this place so great was the team, but now I didn't know over half the team. And the ones I did know aren't the same. I am not angry with them, I have no right to be. That'd be hypocritical since I've done the same. But sadness has managed to  worm its way into my arrival, planting a seed of uncertainty.

I should've never come h̶o̶m̶e̶

back.

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