Spencer Reid Imagines {ON HOLD}

come back (au)

Description: After you work up enough good karma, you get to wish for one selfish thing. After Spencer dies, you spend the next five years building up karma to bring him back.
Warning: angst, language
Word count: 2842
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Karma.
The only thing that had been on your mind for the last five years. Karma. You'd been building it, saving it. Waiting for that little slip of paper to finally have the green check mark on it. You sat in the chair as you waited for it.
Bringing someone back took a lot. It took a lot of karma to reverse time and change it. Only those close to them would remember that person ever being gone, and that person would remember being dead. It would be like that day didn't happen, and any consequences of that day would be erased. Anything that would have happened without the event occurring would be willed into existence.

You remembered the day Spencer died vividly. Even after five years of trying to forget you still remembered. They'd put his picture up at the bureau, memorialized him in the papers, buried him six feet deep under the ground. But nothing you ever did would let you forget what happened. You'd been there. You'd blamed yourself for it. It was your idea to go out that night anyway.
"Spence, come on. We never go out anymore. What's dinner and a movie gonna do?"
"Fine. But only because you're already all dressed up." It was true; you'd gotten dressed in Spencer's favorite dress, doing your hair as nice as you could and even bringing out your expensive makeup. He'd been gone for so long on consecutive cases you had barely any time to do anything anymore. You waited patiently as he put on his button up and suit jeans, taking his hand as you left the apartment.

You didn't want to miss the previews. That was why you'd left the apartment at that time. You didn't want to miss the fucking previews.

Spencer drove down the road, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. You stared out the window at the moving lights, Spencer's hand now twisting the ring on your ring finger.
"Yah know, I-"
And that was when the world stopped.
A drunk driver ran the red light at the intersection going 75 miles an hour, hitting the drivers side door and crushing that side of the car. Your head hit the dashboard and when you came to, Spencer was coughing as the metal pieces of the car crushed his lungs.

It wasn't fair. He put away serial killers and died in a car accident. A damn car accident. All because some teenage kid decided to drive home after having 29 beers at a frat party.
He'd died in your arms. He'd managed to pull the piece off of his legs and pull the two of you out of the flaming car, unable to move or breathe. Even in his final moments he still tried to save your life.
You had to watch as the life left his eyes. You had to listen at the final breath leaving his lips. You had to feel his body go limp against yours as you desperately tried to shake him awake.

Nobody tried to tell you that they knew your pain. Sure, Morgan lost what felt like a brother, JJ a best friend, and Hotch who felt like a son, but you'd lost your husband. The one who, after a million failed attempts at love, made you believe in it again. You'd given up when you met him. You'd convinced yourself soulmates didn't exist. That love was just something lonely people made up to feel less lonely. He made you remember that someone could feel that strongly about you.

The funeral was almost worse.
Nobody bothered to talk to you. Hell, barely anyone even walked past you. They just let you sit in the corner and stare at the wall. Penelope had been the only one to come over, and she didn't even talk to you. She just sat with you in silence.
The whole team was there. Your family, his mom. She looked devastated, and the two of you shared the few days talking about every good memory you had of him. She told you that being sad and remembering the bad was useless, and that remembering the good was what made letting go a little easier. And it did. For a while.
You watched as the casket was lowered into the hole. Nobody spoke. Not a single person. Some of the flowers had fallen off as it moved, but somehow the one thing you'd placed on there that should have fallen stayed.
His favorite book, balanced delicately on the shiny wood, blue covering disappearing in a wall of dirt. You stood up and left, unable to really handle it anymore.