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houseofoddballs · 3 months

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Fuck it. Trauma bond Ghoap with a forgotten reader because all I can write is angst. Final word count is about 3,700, enjoy! Sorry about the lackluster ending and fair warning that Soap is a bit of a dick and fairly OOC.

Tw: Emptional neglect, light nsfw, mentions of torture. (Tell me if there are any more to add!)

You had never heard of trauma bonding, not before your 6'2 masked boyfriend brought back his Scottish best friend. Ghost was never one to be shy or sheepish, but the way that he bowed his head as he told you that he had fallen in love with Soap during their capture and torture, well, it broke your heart a bit. You thought that was going to be the end of it, that he was going to choose the mowhawked muscle over you (and you couldn't really blame him after the small tidbits about the incident you had heard) but then Ghost dropped to one knee and held your hands in his own as he looked you dead in the eyes and begged you not to make him choose, because he still loved you too. And how were you supposed to turn him down?

So, that's how you ended up living with two discharged military men. At first, things were a little rocky. You and Soap were getting along and getting to know each other after all. You weren't exactly dating Soap, but the threesomes made it hard to understand what exactly you were. Polygamy? It didn't matter, though, because Ghost was the one you loved. Ghost was the man who had stolen your heart and treated it like a golden retriever treats eggs. Gently, softly, sweetly. And you had done your best to do the same.

But Soap? Soap was... different. Where Simon was quiet and calm, Soap was loud and boisterous. Where Simon was introverted and kept to himself, Soap was ambiverted (at best) and loved social media. They were like night and day in a lot of ways, and it made your head spin. Another difference? Soap was SO *clingy*.

It was ok at first. Apparently, Simon and Soap had been captured for nearly a week and took turns watching each other get tortured. In the dead of night, when they got any reprieve, they spent that time whispering sweet words to each other just to keep them level-headed and alive. Trauma bonding. Ghost and Soap were bound to be connected at the hip for at least a bit. Right?

Well, 'just a bit' turned into months. Inseparable. You couldn't get five seconds alone with your boyfriend unless Soap was in the bathroom because he refused to do anything without Ghost.

That would have been OK if you didn't see how much it was wearing on your sweet Simon. Any time you got a minute alone together, he would gently hold your face and apologize to you. Murmur to you with his brows knit up about how exhausting Soap could be and how soothing your quiet company was.

He was burnt-out. No other way to put it. In the fleeting moments you got where you could hold Ghost and do things with him, he was simply exhausted and worn-out from Johnny clinging so tightly to him and making him a part of everything in his life. Simon was definitely an introvert, and hardly ever got time to recharge those batteries on touch and the like.

So what did you do? You gave him space. The time you got to spend alone was spent at a distance, small conversations about the things that interested Ghost, since Soap hardly ever talked about those. You had asked why Johnny was still here if he was really making Ghost so miserable, and all he had told you was that he couldn't leave Johnny, couldn't hurt him. So, you relented and just tried to be supportive. You could be happy like this.

Except you weren't. One can only live on table scraps for so long, but you were willing to try for Ghost, and even for Soap. So when Johnny told Simon that it was irritating how little alone time the two of them got because you were always hanging around and asked him to have a talk with you about it, what did he do? Well, he didn't defend you, that's for sure.

Groceries. How pathetic. Soap finally let you and Ghost get *Groceries* together, just the two of you, and your heart utterly soared. Just you and Simon, for possibly an hour. How long had it been since you could do this? How long had it been since you had even hugged or been hugged by your boyfriend? You had no idea.

But all of that went cold as you finished loading your haul into the trunk. Simon turned to you, dark eyes peeking out from behind his Skull balaclava that he only took off at home. He looked so tired, so exhausted.

"Listen, love... Johnny-..." You froze. Of course, you should have known better. No way Soap would let you and Ghost go somewhere together alone while he just sat at home scrolling through short clips on his phone. Of course, there was a condition, a caviot. But this was Simon, your Ghost, so you heard him out. "Johnny was wondering if you could... give us a bit more space. He feels like he doesn't get enough alone time with me. I'm sorry, love, I promise that I'll make it up to you."

If your heart hadn't sunk into your stomach, you would have had to resist the urge to laugh. Soap wasn't getting enough time with Ghost? The same Soap who had been draining every ounce of willpower out of Ghost until your strong-willed Simon was just complacent? The same Soap who drug Simon wherever he went and whined when you wanted to come with? The same Soap who had kicked you out of your shared room for reasons that you still don't know how he convinced Simon? And yet, he didn't get enough alone time with Simon.

You wanted to scream, to cry, to do or say anything to fight back. But one more look into Simon's weary, amber eyes shut down all of your complaints. He was slowly being worn down, and you didn't know what you could do to help. So, you just nodded.

The entire drive back was silent. At some point, you had reached over and gently held Simon's hand on the center console to let him know that you weren't mad, and he had let you. Your first physical contact with Simon in ages. You helped carry in and put away the groceries, acutely aware of Soaps eyes boring into and watching you for your next move, and then you simply retreated to your room. Alone.

That night, you had to listen as the two made love. Headboard banging against the wall, soft moans permeating through your headphones and into your ears, vibrations buzzing and echoing through the halls. You cred that night, just like so many other nights.

You were being forgotten, forced into invisibility in your own house.

And that's how so many months passed by. With you hiding away in your room and only coming out to eat or eagerly take Johnny's table scraps of Ghost's time. But Ghost hardly ever got any time to himself, so, sometimes you would just let him be and relax. Maybe it was simply time for you to move on.

That's when the texts came. Any time Johnny was gracious enough to give Ghost a moment of peace and you either didn't know or just let him relax, he would text you. "Johnny's still at work." "I miss you, love." "I'm on the couch." "Come see me?"

He was making you feel loved, needed even. Even though most of that time spent was him complaining about Soap, every time he would look at you with those soft brown heart melting eyes and thank you for being so understanding and supportive. He would tell you that he loved you so much and that you didn't know how much having you there kept him sane. And how could you leave him like that?

You wished that you had made Simon choose. Nearly five years of this neglect. Simon was so physically overstimulated by Johnny's constant need to be touching him, that something as small as resting your hand on his thigh made him irritable. Johnny would openly complain about you right in front of you, and Ghost would just sigh and let Johnny think he was having his way because it was better than fighting and dealing with Johnny being bitter and whiny.

It was fucking torture. Do you know what that's like? To be slowly isolated and forgotten in your own household? Yes, you do. Because Johnny has made sure of that. Are you going out too much? Johnny is complaining. Are you working too much? Johnny is complaining. You watch too many shows with them? Johnny is complaining. It was getting to the point where you only left your room to eat and when Simon texted you, period. Soap had insisted that with him and Ghost working civilian jobs, you should stay home to keep things tidy and make life a little easier. All it had taken was for Ghost to agree that that would make things easier for you to relent since your job wasn't the best anyway. But the pure isolation that you felt from only interacting with the two of them unless Johnny was gracious enough to let you come with them on an errand?

It was debilitating.

Finally, everything came to a head. "Hey Johnny, would you go to the corner store and pick up some soda?" "Would you come with?" "I would have bloody come with three hours ago right after work. Now I'm in my fuckin' pajamas. Not goin' anywhere like this." "Well, you know I dinnae like going right after work, Simon."

This was your opportunity, your chance. Soap was nose deep in some book he was reading and only half paying attention while you sat next to Simon on the couch, his feet propped up on your lap.

"I would go with you?" Simon's eyes flicked to you, a small smile pulling at his lips. "Yeah, love, that would be great. Mind makin' a list for me so I know what all we need to pick up?" A task. You loved when Simon gave you things to do, because whith those things to do was always some form of praise or appreciation upon completion. You ate it up whole and completely. "Of course, Si. I'll be ready by five tomorrow." "It's a date then, love."

And so, that's how you flitted around the house all day, straightening up and making a list of what you needed, absolutely giddy and buzzing wirh hopeless excitement. Soap got home early that day, which wasn't much of a shock, just made you retreat into your room early. Nothing new. Simon would text you when he was ready, right?

You sat by your phone eagerly with baited breath. 5:30. You guessed that work had kept Simon late again. It wasn't that big of a deal. But you sent him a text just to let him know that you hadn't forgotten about him. "I'm ready whenever you get off work, no rush. I love you."

5:30 turned to 6:00 and that's when you finally got the message. "I'm here." Short, sweet, to the point. That was Simon for you. You practically threw yourself off of your bed and ran to the garage with a large grin on your face. Even if it was as simple as groceries, you cherished every moment of time you got with Simon as if it were spending time with God himself. Because, in a way, Simon was your God. You looked up to him, depended on him, revered him, practically worshipped the ground he walked on; because he deserved it in your eyes.

Your grin fell at the sight before you. "Oh, hey Bonnie." Soap was hopping out of the passenger seat of Ghost's Jeep, going around to the trunk and popping it to pull out several grocery bags. Hurt, confusion, and betrayal all pooled together in your gut as you watched him take the bags inside all in one go. But, what about your list? Your phone felt heavier in your pocket as your stomach churned at the realization that to bring up the completion of the task would be pointless now.

"Hop in." Ghosts voice shook you from your haze, and you slowly took Soap's empty seat beside Ghost. Why? The question swam through your head in several versions and variations, like fish in a barrel, trying desperately to find the freedom to burst forth from your lips. But, you just couldn't ask, too afraid of the answer.

"Where do you want to go?" The question almost caught you off-guard. Where did you want to go? Did he mean Groceries? Were there some left? Or did he mean just in general? Was he offering to do something with you? "I um, I don't know." You admitted, eyes flicking between Simon and the road.

"...'M sorry love." He admitted with a sigh, shoulders sagging with the weight of the world placed upon them. "There was a bit of a mix-up, ya see? I got home and texted Johnny to ask if he would ask if you were coming-" Of course, the plan had been to bring Soap all along. That hurt a bit. "- and he told me 'no' so I thought he meant that you didn't want to come."

"I didn't get your message until we were already in the bloody market, and when I asked Johnny about it, he told me that he had told me that he didn't ask you. I felt so plum bad because I knew that you wanted to come with. 'M so sorry, love."

You were so close to losing it. Hot tears stung at your eyes, but you refused to let them fall when Simon was trying so hard, going so far as to take you for an extra drive just to make sure you had some time with him and felt loved.

"I already told Johnny, so he knows that I'm spending some time with you. Tried to throw a fit, but I shut him down." Simon sighed and ran a hand down his mask as he looked over at you while stopped at a red light. "It's ok, Simon, really. I'm just happy to spend this time together with you. That's all I can ask for. Even though you're tired after work and going for groceries, you're still taking the time to make it up to me even though it wasn't your fault. I really appreciate it."

Simon didn't pull away as you clasped his hand in your own, softly running your fingers over the back of his knuckles. He looked so grateful and relieved, as if so much pressure had just been released. He had been so worried about how you were going to take it, about if this small bit of time would be enough.

"Thank you, love. You have no idea how much I appreciate you and how-" Simon was cut off by a loud click and a light being turned on on his dashboard. "Bloody hell, check engine? I'm so sorry. It doesn't seem too big a deal, but I should probably check it out before it becomes an issue. Is that OK, love?"

What were you supposed to say? 'No!' 'For the first time in months, I get some time alone with you, and it's just 20 minutes in a car!?' 'I miss you' 'please don't!' You couldn't. Simon was tired enough as it was with Soap clinging to him. You simply felt dejected as you tried to smile and reassure him that it was ok and that you enjoyed your time together.

When you got home, Simon muttered about checking the engine tomorrow as he herded you inside, plopping down on the couch next to Soap. The sight made your heart hurt even more. You were ready to just head to your cold, lonely room to cry out your frustration when Simon piped up. "Hey, love, mind cooking up some chips for me? I'm bloody starving, and they sound wonderful."

How could you say no? Sitting in your kitchen waiting for the French fries to bake, you couldn't do it anymore. You sobbed quietly into your open palm as you clasped your hand over your mouth to quiet any noises. What were you supposed to do? Staying was only wearing you down and tearing you apart. You felt more like the ghost in this household, forgotten and lost. You were losing yourself, touch starved beyond belief and to the point of isolation where you were starting to sleep more than you were awake because it made the pain go away for a bit.

But leaving would be just as hard. You hadn't been employed for so long because the boys took care of you, which wasn't going to look good on a resume, and you had nowhere to go. But worst of all?

Worst of all was how you knew your leaving would affect Simon. Johnny was consuming all of him and leaving mere shreds, and the only time that Ghost got to indulge in his own interests was with you. But he just couldn’t bring himself to leave Johnny. You were his support system, his pillar.

You knew this, and yet, it still felt so unfair. Simon was everything to you. When you had been at your worst, he had held you and told you that you were beautiful. When he had been deployed for months at a time, you always texted him and told him how much you loved and missed him. He gave all of himself that he had to give to you before Soap came and statched that all away.

And you couldn't blame Simon for how badly the trauma had messed him up! He still had nightmares about that week. Being tortured and having to watch Soap get tortured as well. Sometimes, you would wake up in the middle of the night to one of them screaming and waking up on a picnic only for the other to softly murmur and reassure them that they were ok and alive. You couldn't do that, not for Simon, not like Soap could.

A sharp 'ding' cut off your thoughts as the oven beeped, signaling the end of the potato strings furnace treatment. You pulled them out of the oven and put them on a plate, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up. The time for your little mental breakdown was up. Now you had to go take the fries to Simon like you weren't just bawling, like you were perfectly fine and happy, like you didn't want to scream and shout and beg for things to be different, to change. But that would be selfish of you to do, and Simon couldn't deal with you and Soap both being selfish.

God, you looked like shit. Bags were heavy under your puffy eyes, your nose was red and runny, your face all splochy from your crying, tear streaks running down your cheeks. This wouldn't do. You sighed as you splashed some cold water on your face and took a deep breath, trying desperately to distance yourself and disassociate from these awful feelings.

Once you were sure you looked fine once more, you towled your face off and grabbed the plate, plastering on your 'I'm fine' smile as you took the french fries to Ghost. The way he smiled so softly and gently at you made it all worth it, made you temporarily forget all of that pain. "Thank you, love. You're welcome to stay?"

"No, thank you, I think I'm going to try and catch up in some games. Thank you, though." Ghost didn't press any, didn't ask again. You wished he would ask again, would even try just a bit to make you feel like he loved you a shred as much as you revered him. But you had to remind yourself that you were getting greedy. He had just taken you for a car ride just the two of you, he had just stood up to Soap so you two could have a bit of time alone, he had just done exactly what you were asking him for. And yet you still wanted more.

The realization that you felt terrible for wanting the bare minimum amount of attention and affection for a relationship was just another reminder of how unhealthy this was for you.

"I love you." Simon said, his eyes so soft and sweet. "I love you too." You had to hold back tears as your smile grew a little bit, and you turned. You couldn't even wait until you made it back to your room to start crying. It wasn't fair. You did everything right, did everything Simon asked, and asked nothing in return, you loved him unconditionally with all of your heart and gave all of yourself to him; meanwhile Soap didn't even care enough to give Simon personal space when they were together because it made HIM feel better. And yet, Soap was the one who got all of Simon's time and love simply because it was easier for Simon to cave to his whims than put up with his bitching. You couldn't handle it anymore! Couldn't take it!

But what were you supposed to do? What could you do? Nothing. The only thing you could do was throw a fit, and that would just wear Simon even thinner and wouldn't accomplish anything because things would be the same again within a month.

And so, you did the only thing you could do. You fell asleep crying again, clutching your pillow to your chest, wishing desperately that Simon would finally come to his senses and put you first for once. But you didn't fool yourself into believing it.

Only shooting stars Grant wishes, and all of yours had been shot down.

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unseededtoast · 5 months

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Glimpse Of Us | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: After a painful breakup, you and Spencer try and move on, but find yourselves seeking out each other in different people. Inspired by "Glimpse Of Us" by Joji.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 7.1k

content warnings: soul-crushing angst, emotional turmoil

His fingers find the velvet box in his pocket and he opens it. The ring inside is divine, he had it created just for you. The gemstone in the center reflects the warm light of his apartment beautifully as he admires it. He can't help but to imagine what it would look like on your finger, where it belongs.

As she exits the bedroom, he's quick to hide the box from her view. For the rest of the night he feels as if he's putting on a performance, one in which he half heartedly kisses her while he thinks of your lips, and he holds her with your body in mind.

-----

Closing the door behind him, Spencer is welcomed home after a long day with soft lighting and the smell of dinner. He shrugs his coat off and places it on the rack beside the door, thankful for the warm air after being in the cold most of the day.

As he takes his shoes off, he feels her arms wrap around him, her forehead resting on his back as she embraces him from behind. Spencer's eyes close in comfort, thankful for her loving ways. He turns around and hugs her back, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I ran you a warm bath and I'll have dinner waiting for you when you get out." Her voice is soft and warm, full of nothing but the most tender love. Spencer pushes a strand of hair behind her ear with a small smile on his face,

"Thank you." He presses a second kiss to her forehead before retreating to the bedroom so he can indulge in a warm bath.

The water relaxes his tense muscles and offers a much needed reprieve. The case the team had closed today was nothing short of miserable. The air was unforgivably cold, the wind was harsh, and of course they were searching for a body for most of the day. He had wanted nothing more than to come home since the first moment he stepped foot outside this morning.

After putting on the sweats she had laid out for him on the counter, he joins her at the dinner table where a plate and a glass of wine waits for him. They eat in silence, comfortable with just the presence of each other. There's never any pressure to make conversation, they both have a mutual understanding that sometimes silence is more appreciated, especially after particularly difficult days. But what she doesn't know is that when silence settles, his mind drifts to you.

Spencer is beyond thankful for her devotion despite the chaotic life he leads. If there's one thing he can count on, it's for her to brighten his days and take the weight of the world off his shoulders when it becomes too much for him to bear. She is nothing short of perfection, a genuine blessing that Spencer is glad to have.

And because she's so perfect, it makes Spencer feel all the more guilty when he finds himself wishing it was you waiting at home for him instead of her.

The guilt has been eating at Spencer for a while now. He knows it's unfair to her, to constantly be comparing her to you but he can't quite bring himself to break up with her. It wouldn't be such a big deal if he didn't see bits and pieces of you within her. With her, he's reminded of how you laughed, the way you hugged him, and so many more small details that he just can't let her go; for if he lets her go then he would lose all of those small reminders and memories. It's selfish, he knows, but the appeal of seeing flashes of you through her is more compelling than doing what is fair for her sake.

Once dinner has been finished and cleaned up, the two of them find themselves on the couch, cuddled under green and umber colored faux fur blankets while a movie plays. But Spencer isn't really paying attention to the movie, no, his focus is on how she holds him and how it isn't quite right. Her grasp is always too loose and her hands never find the right spots. While her embrace is comforting, it's nothing compared to how you used to hold him so tight, and it all felt so right.

During a particularly quiet scene, she looks up to Spencer with doe eyes, and he can tell she's studying him, like she has him figured out down to a science.

"What's wrong honey?" She asks him, running a comforting hand up his arm. Shaking the thoughts of you from his mind, he smiles down to her with guilt creeping up within him.

"Just had a bad day." Is all he tells her. For he can never tell her the truth, that he'll never love her the way he loved you. It wouldn't be right, and none of it is her fault. He doesn't see the need to tell her he's only passing time in her arms, the ones that will never hold him the way he needs.

With big, beautiful eyes she continues to look at him, appreciating the tiny details that makes Spencer so beautiful. And while he should be appreciating her with the same loving gaze, all he can bring himself to do is think about how you used to look at him the same way.

As he looks into her eyes that look eerily similar to yours, he's catapulted into a memory, a time where things were perfect.

- - - - -

"Well why not both?" You ask Spencer, who's holding up two blankets to choose from. It's the first winter that you two are sharing together in Spencer's apartment and you both found out the hard way that even Virginia can get quite cold.

"You want them both?" He asks you, eyes glancing between the dark green and the rich brown colored blankets in his hands, both made of warm, plush material. You nod your head and motion for him to put them both in the cart.

"Yes, both of them. The colors compliment each other and they'll look right at home on the couch." A smile finds its way to your face as he places both of the blankets into the cart.

Spencer didn't need much convincing and you both knew it. All you had to do was give him the puppy eyes and he would bend to your every will. He would do anything to keep a smile on your face, and if that meant getting two blankets instead of one, then it was a small compromise he was happy to make.

Later that night the two of you sit entangled on the couch, under one of the new blankets. Spencer sat with his back against the arm rest and he had pulled you between his legs, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. Your head rested back on his chest and your eyes closed as soft music played from the vintage record player Spencer had recently bought.

Spencer savors the way you warm him, the way your body feels soft under his touch, and he appreciates the smell of vanilla that you always seem to have. He watches with adoring eyes as your chest rises and falls evenly, letting him know that you've fallen asleep. The apartment is dimly lit from a lamp, and its warm glow illuminates your features perfectly. Spencer can never get enough of just looking at you, each time he finds something new to love.

His eyes trail from the slope of your nose to the curve of your lips before noticing the way your eyelashes softly lay against the top of your cheekbones, gentle like a feather floating through the breeze. He had never seen such effortless beauty, both inside and out, and his heart feels like it could explode from trying to fit all the love he has for you within.

Kissing the crown of your head, he gently wakes you up and leads you to bed, and he can't help but smile as you hold his hand the entire way there. Your small hand fit into his like they were made for each other.

Once the two of you had settled in bed, you reach your arms around Spencer and hold him close to you. While you enjoy being held by him, you like to return the favor. You want him to come to you for comfort and security, you want to provide a loving warmth to him, to show him how much you love him when your words fall short of expressing the truth depths of your adoration.

His skin is warm under your touch and you press a soft kiss in between his shoulder blades. You're not sure if he'll be here in the morning due to work, so you hold him tight and soak in every second you get with him.

As the two of you drift off, Spencer rests his hand atop yours that rests just below his chest, not able to get enough of you tonight. There was something in the air this evening that made Spencer realize that you are the love of his life, and he wants to spend every night with your arms around him.

- - - - -

Snapping out of his daydream, Spencer realizes that the movie had come to an end. His hand lingers on the blanket for just a moment longer than necessary before he heads to bed, where she is sure to join him soon. He gets underneath the covers, his hand resting on the empty space beside him. His chest aches and he bites the inside of his cheek to stop from getting emotional as she walks in, a sleepy smile on her face.

Spencer goes through the motions of bidding her a goodnight before he turns away from her. He doesn't know if he's disgusted with himself for thinking of you while she lays next to him, or if he's sad he let another woman take your spot. As her hand makes its way around his waist, he's unable to stop the single tear that drips down his cheek.

He waits for her to fall asleep before he slinks out of bed. He puts his shoes on and shrugs on his coat before leaving. The walls of his apartment seem to be closing in on him tonight, and perhaps he needs some fresh air. Snow flurries fall as he walks the empty streets, illuminated by street lamps and starlight.

Spencer wipes his eyes of the tears that form in his lash line and sniffles every few seconds. He has no destination in mind, but he know where his body will take him. It's the same place he goes every time, the spot where he met you.

The bench is covered in a light layer of snow along with everything else in the park. He's unable to tear his eyes away from the spot he first saw you at, as if you would suddenly appear out of thin air. Spencer remembers very vividly the day he met you. He was at the park playing chess, trying to get better so he could finally beat Gideon, when he saw you.

You had your nose buried in a mystery novel, your hair was partially pinned back so it wouldn't get in your way, and you had the prettiest sundress on that complimented your skin tone wonderfully. Spencer had never been one to believe in love at first sight until he saw you. He swears that day the sunlight was focused on you alone, as everything else became utterly dull.

And Spencer had never been one to go out of his way to talk to a woman, but something within him told him that if he didn't seize this opportunity then he would regret it. So he pushed himself out of his comfort zone and talked to you. You were the sweetest woman ever, and he's still surprised to this day that you had given him your number after he babbled and rambled trying to get to the point.

What he wouldn't give to be able to go back and do it all over again.

- - - - -

Three months after you had left Spencer he found himself once again being interrogated about his love life by his coworkers. They mean well, and he knows it, but he wishes they would stop bringing the topic up, because every time they do it's like reopening the wound. But he doesn't want to concern anyone with how poorly he's actually handling the separation, they all have their own issues just as he does.

"You sure you're ready for that date?" Derek asked him one Friday afternoon, asking about the blind date he had set up for Spencer.

"Of course I am, I think I'm finally moving on, and I'm sure she's lovely." Spencer smiles to Derek, but there's a bitter taste on his tongue.

There's no chance that this mystery woman could ever compare to you. But he tells everyone he's moved on from you so that they might stop bringing you up in conversation. Though he knows that you had made friends with his coworkers as well and he knows they probably miss you too. But for his own sanity, Spencer had to find a way to keep them from speaking about you; and what better way to do that than date someone new?

But while Spencer was busy acting like he had moved on, it seems that you actually had.

A year after you had left, against his better judgment, Spencer looked you up to see how you were doing. He had refrained from doing so up to this point, but he couldn't help himself. He had to know, he had to see you.

What he found devastated him. On your Instagram was a photo of you and a man, cheeks pressed against each other's with wide smiles. The first thing Spencer noticed was how your smile finally reached your eyes again, how you looked genuinely happy. A look he hadn't seen in a long time.

But he couldn't stop there, he had to know more. He had to make sure that this man wasn't some psychopath. And it turns out he seems to be the embodiment of the American dream. Spencer found that your new man works in wealth management, owns his own property with a fenced in yard, and appears to be head over heels in love with you.

The man's social media is cluttered with photos of you. You smile in each one as if you were seeing color for the first time. Spencer goes through his photos, looking at vacations you took to Europe, evenings spent on a boat, and every small detail in between that the man had posted about. Spencer had to put his phone away after he saw a picture of you in the man's lap, his hands on your waist as he kissed your cheek while you smiled at the camera.

Spencer thinks often about how the man treats you. He wonders if the new man appreciates your tender touch, your kind heart, if he cherishes you like he used to. Spencer can't help but to ponder if your new man gives you everything he couldn't; if he comes back home to you every night and if the two of you plan to have a family one day.

And when those thoughts get to be too painful, Spencer wonders if you ever think of him. He hopes that you search for pieces of him in your new man, even in just the most minuscule details. Sometimes with this hope comes along the thought of if you will ever come back to Spencer.

But that hope is usually crushed with the realization that you're living in a new chapter, one in which he will never have the privilege to read.

- - - - -

The sweet smell of blueberry pancakes wafts through the house and wakes you. You take a deep breath of the fruity scent and stretch, enjoying the way that today has started. There are definitely worse ways to wake up. Instead of getting up right away, you opt to stay snuggled under the warm covers, your eyes closed as you breathe in the sugary sweetness.

"Good morning honey." You hear your boyfriend open the door, his voice deep and raspy from the night. At the sound of his voice, you can't help but to open your eyes and smile at him.

"What's the occasion?" You stretch once more as he walks over to you, looking down at you with doting eyes.

"Oh I don't know, I think it might be someone's birthday. Yeah, I think I remember someone telling me that the most beautiful girl in the world has a birthday today." He leans down and presses a kiss to your lips, the taste of blueberries lingering between you.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast." You sit up, pushing the covers away so you can go enjoy the pancakes that were so lovingly made. Your boyfriend only smiles wider,

"Don't worry this is just the beginning. I've got a whole day planned for you, baby." You try to fight the smile, not wanting him to know just how excited you are.

The two of you eat pancakes together at the table, your heart swelling with love from his gesture. Both of you know he's not the best cook in the world, but to you these are the best pancakes you've ever had. In fact, they could be burnt to a crisp and you would love every bite because he took the time to try and do something nice for you, and it's the effort you appreciate above all.

Licking syrup off your lip, your eyes find themselves fixated on your boyfriend's face and you can't help but be mesmerized. His eyes are kind and gentle, his smile is wide and welcoming, and you just don't know if you will ever get enough of him.

Though a tiny voice makes itself known in the back of your mind and it reminds you of just why you find your boyfriend to be so beautiful.

But you try your best to ignore the voice that whispers to you from within your own mind. You don't want to hear how your boyfriend's hair is the same shade of brown or how his eyes hold the same hue of green that Spencer's did. The voice works diligently to remind you that your boyfriend's hands don't feel the same and that his lips aren't as soft, and you wish that it would just stop. Everything would be so much easier if you could just forget Spencer Reid even exists, but no matter how hard you try you can never silence the whispers.

You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't still think of Spencer sometimes. Especially during the early days of your new relationship. When you first got together with your new boyfriend you were constantly reminded of Spencer. Your new boyfriend shared many features with Spencer such as his height, build, and hair color and you know it's no coincidence. You know full well that you gravitated to your new boyfriend because of these similarities, you were desperate to hold onto any part of Spencer that you could.

But your new boyfriend is different from Spencer in a lot of ways as well. He's more headstrong, he doesn't think things through as well, and he can't read you quite like Spencer could. But despite these differences you found yourself loving him for who he is.

Your new boyfriend practically worships the ground you walk on. He's entirely devoted to you and he reminds you every day of how much he loves you. He comes home at the same time every night, he's here when you need him to be, and just recently has opened up to you about one day possibly starting a family. He's everything you've ever wanted.

It had taken some time to adjust to something new and unfamiliar but it was worth it. You had been hesitant to get into another relationship, worried that you wouldn't be able to love anyone as much as you loved Spencer. It would be entirely unfair to the other person, and so you had asked your current boyfriend for patience; and this man had no problems waiting. In fact, you were convinced he would wait until the end of times if you had asked him to.

He was never overbearing, never pressured you for an answer or to go on a date before you were ready. Instead, the two of you built a friendship first. You would go for coffee on Saturday mornings, walks in the park after work, and even played a few rounds of mini golf. It was in those small moments that you found yourself falling head over heels for the man and eventually you felt that you were ready.

After a few months of being together, he had insisted you join him on a business trip to Europe. At first you didn't really know, you were nervous about being somewhere unfamiliar, but you trusted him to take care of you. And you're glad you went, it was the best trip you had ever been on. Your boyfriend treated you to candlelit dinners, a gondola ride, and the most tender, pure love possible. For the first time in a long time, you felt happy and it was all because of him.

Your mind drifts from memories of Europe to the conversation about starting a family. You remember the conversation almost word for word and you find yourself reflecting on it more than what is probably normal. But you can't help yourself, that conversation had opened your eyes about your true desires and left you feeling conflicted about a lot of things you still don't have the answers to.

- - - - -

It was a bright Sunday afternoon and you strolled down the street with your boyfriend hand in hand, enjoying the warm weather and freshness of spring. The grass was finally coming back to life, the trees were blooming, and flowers were beginning to pop up again.

"I want to ask you something, but you don't have to answer if you don't want to." Your boyfriend uncharacteristically stumbles over his words as the two of you veer off to a less busy path.

"You can ask me anything." You truthfully tell him, wanting him to know that he can come to you about anything. After all, there's nothing he can throw at you that would catch you off guard after your years with Spencer and the stories he would come home with.

"Have you ever thought about having kids someday?" Your pace slows down as his words sink in. You weren't quite sure what you were expecting him to ask, but it certainly wasn't that.

Instead of answering right away, you stop walking completely and look at your boyfriend, seeing nothing but complete seriousness and curiosity written all over his face. Your eye catches his, and your heart sinks when you see a flash of Spencer's eyes in your mind. Blinking away the fleeting image, you sigh and think about how to answer his question.

"I think some day, with the right person, I would most definitely want kids." Your answer is the complete truth, and yet you find yourself feeling guilty for not immediately imagining yourself having kids with your boyfriend, but instead with Spencer.

"Some day." A smile finds its way onto your boyfriend's face and he squeezes your hand lovingly.

Pushing the guilt and all thoughts of Spencer aside, you focus on what you have right in front of you. You have a boyfriend who loves you unconditionally, who wants nothing but the best for you, who you can see yourself spending forever with.

Yet despite loving him back and wanting a future with him, there's still a piece of your soul that yearns for Spencer.

- - - - -

After a long day of birthday celebration, you find yourself laying in bed waiting for your boyfriend to join you. The day had been filled with family and friends and it was probably one of the best birthdays you've had in a long time. But ever since this morning, the voice in the back of your mind hasn't let up.

While you were opening gifts you couldn't help but wonder what Spencer would've picked out. When your boyfriend asked you what top he should wear to best match the rest of the outfit you found yourself wondering what Spencer would've picked. During the drive to your friend's house you considered which songs Spencer would've played on the trip over. You hadn't really thought of Spencer much over the past year, seeing as how happy you were with your boyfriend, but lately you find Spencer infiltrating your thoughts more and more.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you give into temptation and grab your phone. Quickly, you look Spencer up on what limited social media presence he has. Your heart races as his profile loads, unsure of what you're going to see and what you want to see. The photos load and you realize he still hasn't posted anything since the photo you posted for him years ago.

You tap on the tagged photos tab and can't help the heaviness in your chest as you see a photo he was tagged in three months ago. He's got his arms wrapped around a gorgeous woman, her lips pressed to the side of his cheek. Within an instant, your mind replaces the woman's face with your own and you feel your throat begin to close up with emotion. The caption is something cliche about love, and with the same quickness as you had clicked on the photo, you exit out of the app.

It seems Spencer has moved on from you, and you're happy for him. You hope she can handle his lifestyle better than you could, but you can't help but feel sad that he was able to replace you. A tinge of regret takes residence in you for giving him the opportunity to replace you.

- - - - -

Spencer looks in the mirror as he straightens his tie and runs his hand through his hair once more. The velvet box in his pocket makes his heart hammer but the sound of her voice knocks him out of an anxiety-ridden spiral.

"We're going to be late, come on." She says with a smile on her face. Spencer knows he should be just as excited but the nerves take precedence.

The two of them enter the dimly lit restaurant and take their seat. The tablecloth is white, there's a candle in the middle of the table. Spencer knows it's the perfect time to propose. After all, today is their second anniversary.

She talks openly about what she's going to order and how she knows the food is going to be delightful. Spencer does his best to smile and nod, trying to calm his trembling fingers. He had considered proposing for a few months now and decided tonight would be perfect.

After the waiter comes and takes their orders, Spencer reaches across the table and takes her hands within his. Her skin is soft and smooth, but as he rubs his thumb across the back of her hand he remembers how delicate your skin used to feel under his touch.

Guilt intermingles with the nerves, and he feels disgusted with himself that even as he's about to propose he thinks of you. And the guilt is reinforced when he remember who he bought the ring for in the first place, it most certainly wasn't her.

Delaying the question, Spencer keeps making small talk until the food arrives. He takes glances over to her, and she always smiles back. And Spencer tries his best to act normal, but he knows he's failing.

For every time he looks at her all he can see is you. Every time he looks into her eyes he sees yours, he remembers how you used to gaze at him for what seemed like hours. Each time she pushes her hair behind her shoulder he remembers how yours used to always look effortlessly perfect. Even the shade of her lipstick brings him back to a memory when you wore a similar shade.

She laughs at a poor joke he made, and the sound of her laughter is replaced with yours in Spencer's mind. He realizes then that he can't possibly ask her to marry him.

When the two of them arrive back at the apartment, she rushes off to change into something more comfortable and Spencer hangs back in the kitchen, taking a seat at the dining table.

- - - - -

"Where are you going?" Spencer steps in front of her, blocking her path. He had returned home only an hour earlier to find that she had packed all of her things and called her friend to pick her up. She looks back up at him, and he clearly sees the disdain in her eyes.

"I can't do this anymore Spencer. I don't know what happened or what I did wrong, but I can tell you don't love me, and you haven't for a while." Her words shock him, but he can't find it within himself to contradict what she's saying; she's right after all.

"You didn't do anything, I'm sorry." Is all he's able to offer her as he steps aside and lets her go. She shakes her head, tears gleaming in her eyes as she grabs the handle of her last bag and leaves without looking back.

Spencer is left alone in his apartment and he bites his cheek as he looks around. She had taken everything she owned, not a trace remains. While he should feel devastated that she left him, he only feels relieved. The guilt that's been eating him alive for years is finally gone and he knows that this was the best possible outcome for her; he hopes she can find someone who cherishes her the way she deserves.

His eyes fall on the blanket draped over the back of the couch and suddenly this situation feels all too familiar. Spencer is unable to tear his eyes away from the blanket as his mind reminds him in perfect detail the most painful day of his life.

- - - - -

"Spencer, move. Let me go." Your voice is firm but it wavers as you finish the sentence. You had your last bag in your hand and you had hoped to be out of here before Spencer got back home.

"No, please don't do this. Please don't go." Spencer begs you as tears fall down his cheeks. Pained by his sadness, a tear falls down your own. You so desperately wish you could stay, that things could work between the two of you.

"Maybe if things were different I could stay." You say, using your free hand to wipe you eyes.

Before you can be convinced to stay, you step around Spencer and head out the door, leaving behind the best and worst days. When you hear the door shut behind you, you're unable to stop the onslaught of tears that flow down your face as you go to your car parked alongside the curb. The last bag gets carelessly tossed in your car before you drive off.

Spencer watches from his window as you leave, your car disappearing into the night. He collapses against the wall and sobs. It doesn't feel real, he can't wrap his mind around the fact that you had actually left.

Hours later he finds the will the stand up and he sniffles the entire way to the bedroom where there's a crisp white paper laid on his pillow. Spencer turns on a light before he grabs the paper and before he reads a single word he notices how some of the ink is smudged, like tear drops had fallen before it had time to dry.

Soon enough, his tear drops fall onto the paper as well. Each word is like a dagger to his heart and yet he reads it over and over and over again.

Spencer,

By the time you read this, I won't be here. Please don't come looking for me. We both knew things weren't going well for a long time, and I didn't see any way we could compromise. It's not fair to you and it wasn't fair to me to stay, we would drive each other to endless misery at some point if something didn't give.

I wish things could have been different for us, but I just couldn't handle it anymore. We both want different things and that's okay. You love your job and it was unfair of me to try and persuade you to pursue something else for my sake, and for that I am sorry. It would've been nice to have you home every night, to know that you could be here for the big and small moments of life. But I understand that that way of life isn't something you're made for, and that's okay too. I'm sorry I'm not built for the life you lead, I tried my best for as long as I could.

You will always have a piece of my heart for as long as I shall live. I wish you nothing but the best. You've got a lot to offer the world, my beautiful Spencer Reid.

I love you, always.

His heart may as well have been ripped from his chest and shattered into a million irreparable pieces. As he reads and rereads your words he can't believe that you blamed yourself, that you felt the need to apologize for wanting a normal life.

He recalls the first time you had asked him about a career change. To him it came out of nowhere, but when he really starts to think about it, he should've seen it coming. There were times he would come home and your eyes would be just a little bloodshot and your cheeks would be unusually red. Of course you told him it was just allergies, but the pictures of you two scattered over the coffee table should've told him it was something else entirely.

The texts asking him if he would be home for your birthday were answered with a negative, along with the questions about Christmas, Valentines Day, and just about every other occasion. He wanted to be there with you, there's no place he would have rather been, but the job required him to be across the country more times than not. He should've realized that you had stopped asking those questions a year ago.

His memory allows him to see into the past, and as it's said, hindsight is 20/20. The last year of the relationship he often found himself coming home to you already in bed, when you used to stay up and wait for him. Perhaps you had been so accustomed to disappointment that you had assumed something would come up and that he wouldn't be home when he told you he would.

Within those memories he also notices how sad you seemed. Though he didn't see it at the time, he sees now how your smile stopped reaching your eyes and you stopped trying to plan things for the two of you to do on his days off. Instead of going out, you told him that you just wanted to spend time with him.

There's a particular memory that comes to the forefront of his mind, about a month before you left he remembers the two of you on the couch. You had snuggled into his side, head resting on his shoulder as the two of you watched a movie. He really hadn't been paying attention, he was focused on how warm you were, how he was happy he could finally be here with you. But if he had been following the movie, he would've seen that you turned it off just before the happy ending where the two characters lived out the rest of their days together. He should've noticed then how the tip of your nose turned red and how you wiped your eyes, claiming it was just from being tired.

His chest aches deeply as he understands the pain he's put you through. All you wanted was him, and he had let you slip right through his fingers without even realizing.

For days, weeks, and months after you left Spencer finds himself sleeping with the blanket you had picked out, for it's the last piece of yourself that you left him with. And after a while, your scent faded, but the memories remain.

And ever since, he found himself chasing anything that could give him even just the smallest reminder of you. He only hopes that one day your paths will cross again and that you will find your way back where you belong; back to him.

- - - - -

The room feels colder and darker than usual. There's no sweet smell of pancakes floating in the air, there's nobody next to you to keep you warm. No, all of those comforts had left a week ago. The moment in which everything crumbled replays constantly in your mind.

In front of you, your boyfriend dropped to one knee and held out a glistening ring. With tears in his eyes, he poured his heart out to you, speaking about how he's beyond in love with you and that he wants to grow old with you. That there's nobody else on this Earth he can imagine coming home to, holding close, and cherishing dearly.

You could almost hear his heart break as you told him that you couldn't marry him. And not two days later, he had moved out without speaking a single word to you. Everything you spent years building, gone in an instant. But what haunts you the most is the look in his eye, it's the same despair you saw in Spencer's when you had left him.

But you knew you had made the right decision not to marry your boyfriend. You loved him deeply, but after the conversation about starting a family you realized that you didn't want that future with anyone but Spencer. But that future isn't a possibility, you're keenly aware of that. So it seems you're destined to live out your days reminiscing about Spencer Reid.

With time you know you had forgotten some of the memories and it's when you try to remember them that you find yourself wishing you had Spencer's memory. By now you figure he's done his best to bury the memory of you while you try to dig yours back up.

There's one memory you cling to the most, and when sorrow begins swallowing you whole, you relive that memory, wanting to go back in time and live in that moment forever.

It was a chilly fall day, the leaves had just started to turn colors. Spencer and you had been together just shy of a week but it seemed like neither of you could get enough of one another. In every second of free time you two had, you were together. He explained that his job required him to travel a lot, but you didn't really mind, he was worth waiting for.

The two of you walked with intertwined hands through the park where you met, and take a seat on the bench. Spencer wanted to come by after the date he planned, a cozy coffee cafe with your favorite pastries. You had never experienced someone taking an interest in you, and your heart felt full knowing he went out of his way to learn what you liked.

With lovestruck eyes, you look over at him and brush his cheekbone with your free hand, wanting to memorize every detail of him. His skin is smooth, eyes the most brilliant shades of earthy tones, and of course his chocolate curls had you swooning.

You see his eyes dance between yours and your lips, and before you could comprehend what was happening, he pulled you close and kissed you. Your hands had found their way to his face, cradling his jaw as he held your waist.

And as you pulled away you couldn't help the smile that found its way to your face. You had never been one to believe in falling in love so soon after meeting someone, but something about Spencer felt different. It was like your souls were meant for each other, there was an undeniable chemistry from the start. And though you wouldn't say it for another few months, you knew in this moment that you were helplessly in love with Spencer Reid.

But instead of leading a fulfilling life with him by your side, you find yourself utterly alone.

Eventually you make your way into the living room, which now has half of the furniture it did a few days ago. But you don't care, you convinced yourself that it was for the best, and that your now-ex deserves someone better than yourself, someone who wasn't still in love with the person who came before.

You decide to get out of the house and take a walk with no particular destination. The fresh air will hopefully make you feel better. Your mind is anywhere but the present and you hadn't realized that you had made your way to the park. The same one that holds too many bittersweet memories.

But instead of walking somewhere else, you continue on. You hadn't come back here since you left Spencer but it feels right. Lately you've found yourself considering trying to find him again, but ultimately you decide against it, recalling the words you left for him and the fact that it looks like he's found someone new. You love him too much to disrupt what love and peace he may have found.

Taking the familiar path you find yourself walking to the bench where Spencer first introduced himself to you, the bench that had started everything.

As you round the bend you see an older couple sitting there in the very spot you had all those years ago. The woman has her arm linked with the man's and the two of them laugh about something. The sunlight glints off of their wedding bands and you look away as they lean in to kiss each other. Walking by them, you offer a polite smile despite the turmoil you feel inside. They meet your eye as you pass and return your smile with warmth and happiness.

This trip down memory lane leaves you feeling like you had just seen a bit of what your future with Spencer could have looked like, the two of you grey-haired but still head over heels for each other.

But you know that can never be a reality, and so you'll have to find a way to settle for the fleeting glimpse you caught.

-----

Part Two

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