Ghost of You ~ Spencer Reid

Ch. 6 | The Deep End

"I'm not sure all these people understand, it's not like years ago."
- Night Swimming, R.E.M.

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May, 2019:

A longer work probation was hardly enough punishment for what I'd done. But once again, Emily and her superiors took pity on me for 'all I've been through.'

It was a load of bull crap, but I was in no place to make negotiations so I let it be. Since then I've stayed back during cases. Also since then, I haven't spoke a word to Spencer. It's not as though he's eased up on me, but rather he won't speak to me at all. Him hating me is so much better than this isolation. I've often found myself doing something and wanting to tell Spencer about it over the years, but it's so much worse now, knowing he's a hotel room door away and I can't say a word. I stared up at the calcimine ceiling of the hotel, wondering if the flaky white paint could manage to parallel the night sky despite never seeing it. Its one of those useless thoughts, but it keeps my mind from boredom and from wandering about all the 'what ifs.'

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at my door. I quickly popped up from my bed, and walked over, the scratchy hotel carpet scathing the pads of my feet. I wrapped my hand around the cold metal and turned it to reveal Luke and Tara joking outside my door.

"What's up?" I asked with a smile, as Tara finished telling one of her 'your mom' jokes.

"The team's thinking about heading to a bar, you down?" Alvez asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Totally, give me a minute to get ready," I smiled, waving goodbye as I shut the door. I turned on my heels and quickly rummaged through my suitcase, knowing I had a dress for special occasions in there somewhere. Finally, after some time, I found the little black dress. I bit the inside of my lip as I looked at it, hoping it wasn't too showy. I took a moment before slipping it on, then pairing it with a pair of heels and simple jewelry. A couple more minutes and I finally decided on an updo for my hair.  Then I grabbed a black bag to match and headed out the door, meeting the team by the elevator outside.

"Am I the last one?" I scrunched my nose apologetically. As I glanced around, I noted each member of the team managed to clean up very nicely.

"Got one more on the way, kiddo," Rossi smiled in response. Just like that, Spencer stumbled out from his room across the hall, sporting a white button up with the sleeves rolled up, a black jacket in his hand and a pair of trousers. I felt myself freeze, and my breathing speed up, as he carefully adjusted his left sleeve attentively and he approached the group. He finally looked up as he reached the elevator, his eyes coming to a stop directly on me. I felt like I was drowning. His gaze was ripping away my breath, like I was gasping for air but I couldn't get to the one person who knew how to save me. Finally he looked away, turning to Rossi.

"Sorry, am I the last one out?" he asked, my face already blushed over, probably...no definitely got even redder.

"I'm afraid so," Rossi laughed, not acknowledging the parallel in what'd just happened.

"Let's go!" Declared Simmons, and the elevator doors creaked open, each of us stepping into the entrapment. I somehow ended up in the very back corner directly next to the boy genius. He smelled faintly of lavender, coffee, and old books. I sighed and I could see him sneak a brief curious glance at me through my peripherals but I chose to ignore it, not wanting drama for tonight. We've just finished a new case, and we're all ready to go home. We would be able to, but it's storming in D.C. so the jet wouldn't be able to land, therefor we're stuck in Chicago.