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One: Hotch and Rossi
Spencer was used to people leaving.
It was practically an endless cycle in his life, really. Get close, let his guard down, watching them walk away. Yet, for some reason Spencer will forever regret, he always had hope that maybe it'll be different this time.
He stopping getting his hopes up after Gideon left. It doesn't matter who they are or how much he loves them. He was never enough to make them stay.
But with the BAU, he let himself hope. He found a place where he belonged, a place where he was loved. He gained a family, and he thought that they would be the ones to break that cycle. They would be the ones to stay.
Sometimes he tells himself that, for a genius, he was pretty fucking stupid.
The first time he noticed it was with Hotch and Rossi. They had just gotten back from a case a few hours prior. It was a tough one, a case that had them all on edge. The others left rather quickly, as Hotch had given him a stack of case files. "The others are too tired." Hotch muttered. "The case took a big toll."
Spencer didn't really think much of it. He had taken the files without hesitation. He could read faster than they can, meaning he'd probably be done a few hours earlier than they would have. Plus, he didn't really want to go home anyways. The all to familiar itch on his elbow was almost excruciating. Keeping himself busy helped.
He had one more file after the one he was currently working on. It had gotten late, nearing around nine at night. His cravings were getting duller and duller, and he was actually beginning to be ready to go back to his apartment, curl up in bed, and sleep away the day they've had.
He had looked up from the file as he heard a door slam closed, voices muttering softly as footsteps made their way to his direction. Hotch and Rossi rounded the corner, smiling and laughing as they talked to each other. Spencer had smiled himself at that, happy that they seem to be doing well after everything.
"Leaving?" Spencer said as they got closer, sitting up right in the chair.
For a second, Spencer thought they were just going to straight up ignore him. Instead, they both let out a matching sigh, one full of pure irritation and annoyance. Spencer furrowed his eyebrows at the reaction.
"Yeah." Hotch nodded. "Meeting the team for drinks."
Rossi gave Hotch a look as the man himself grimaced. He knows that look. That look clearly said that they weren't planning on bringing this up to him, that said they had already had a conversation about.
Spencer gulped, willing himself not to start overthinking. "Oh, I thought they were super tired?"
He didn't say it in an accusing way, he was genuinely curious. That didn't seem to matter, though, as Hotch let out a loud, exasperated sigh. "Well, I guess they changed their mind."
They hadn't even come to a full stop, and they wasted no time in continuing. There wasn't really any use in Spencer fighting off the racing thoughts. They were getting harder and harder to ignore. His hands were shaking, and he didn't even understand the reasoning behind their coldness towards him.
"Um." Spencer had called out, clearing his throat. They had stopped full this time, turning to face them with the most amount of anyone that Spencer has ever seen on someone's face. "Could I come? Today was really bad, and I could really use some fam-"
Rossi cut him off before he could finish talking. "Reid, please. It's been a long day, and we just need some space. You can be a lot sometimes, and we need a break from you to enjoy ourselves and talk about things that won't end with you rambling about facts or statistics."
For once, Spencer Reid was speechless. He gaped at them, heart dropping. Spencer liked to think he and Rossi were relatively close, almost seeing him as a father figure after Gideon left. Those words felt like a slap in the face, and the fact that he didn't hesitate to say it made it so much worse.
What hut the most, though, is the way Hotch had nodded his head in agreement. Hotch had always been there, long before Spencer had even joined the BAU. He was like the older brother Spencer never had. He used to be relatively protective, calling out anyone who tried to underestimate his profiling skills or be rude to him because they couldn't understand him.
Rossi felt like a slap in the face, but Hotch felt like a hit to the stomach.
He just nodded, making Rossi give him a big smile. For a split second, he thought that maybe the annoyance was all in his head, his mind playing a game with him after the how rough everything had been.
You know how he always gets his hopes up?
This time wasn't any different.
Before they could fully turn to leave, Spencer caught a sarcastic eye roll that Rossi sent in Hotch's direction, causing the other man to form a small smile as they walked out of the main doors.
It took him another three hours to finish the paperwork.
Two: JJ
Spencer had managed to brush that night off, but things seemed to go down hill after that.
He was sitting at his desk one morning, reading as the others talked amongst themselves. He wasn't paying attention to the book, though. He couldn't. His hands were shaking, and there was a pit in his stomach that he knew would never go away.
His mother wasn't doing so well.
The night prior, he got a phone call around 2:30 in the morning. He slowly got up, reaching for his phone. With it being so late, he assumed they had another case. Once he answered it, once the reasoning for the call came from the other side of the phone, he froze.
He stayed awake for the rest of the night, sitting up in bed with his knees pressed against his chest. His mind was an endless cycle of no, no, no.
The next day, he was a fucking mess. He'd feel numb, which quickly turned to sadness. To anger, and then back to numbness. No one noticed him, noticed how he was feeling. Even when his phone rang, they missed how he jumped up, running out of the room.
Once the lady on the other end started speaking, his heart dropped, and his whole body went cold. He let the phone slip out of his hands as he slowly slid down the wall in the bathroom, breathing heavily as tears streamed down his face. He was gripping his hair so tightly, he could've pulled it out.
It took him a good 30 minutes to calm himself down. He took deep breaths, splashing some water in his face, and slowly walked out. He tried his best to make it look like he wasn't crying. He made it to the others, but no one really acknowledged him.
He needed them to acknowledge him. He needed them to care. He needed his family. It hurt so bad, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He stood there for a few minutes before clearing his throat in hopes of getting their attention.
It didn't.
"Guys." Spencer muttered out, voice cracking. He cleared his throat once again as they all turned to look at him. They took in his appearance, his body language.
No one said anything.
Spencer could feel his heart shattering once more, tears threatening to fall. The way way they were looking at him. Looking at him like they couldn't care less about this conversation, like they couldn't care less about him.
But he tried anyways. He needed to try.
"I think I'm going to take two weeks off," Spencer gulped, staring at the floor as he continued. "Um, my mo-"
JJ let out a loud sign, one filled with so much annoyance, he wishes the the ground would swallow him whole. "Do we look like Hotch to you?"
He didn't respond. She kept going. "You don't need to tell us every little thing. It's almost always pointless, anyways."
His vision grew blurry. Everyone was standing around him, talking. He couldn't hear what they were saying, a high pitched ringing sounding in his ear. He turned around in the middle of their sentences, without a single word, and made his way to Hotch's office.
Spencer keeps walking, knowing he imagined the "I'm so sorry" that came from her.
All he could think about is the fact that he's truly, completely alone.
Hotch didn't ask why. He didn't even look up towards him. For a second, Spencer wondered if he could even hear him. He could.
"I need two weeks off. My mo-"
Hotch just sighed, finally glancing up at the boy. "Sure, Reid. Just go, will you? I have to finish this paperwork."
One second he was gathering his things, and the next he was on a plane to Nevada.
He cried the whole way there. His mother's gone. His friends aren't standing by his side, the one time he needed them more than ever.
He could feel his guard starting to rebuild, and he let it.
Three: Emily and Morgan
Once Spencer got back, he was noticeably not the same.
Planning his moms funeral, being the only one besides a few nurses at said funeral weighed heavily on him. It didn't help that the team was radio silent towards him. There wasn't a single message from them, not one asking if he was okay, not one just to see what he's doing. It hurt, piling up over the grief he was already facing. The loneliness, the cravings, the pain.
And yet, Spencer still had hope. He needed to have hope.
It was sometime in October, and the team were in New York for a case. They didn't talk to him much, muttering a few words here and there about the case. He tried to ignore the pain in his chest at the cold stares they sent him whenever he opened his mouth.
He was currently staring at a map tacked to the wall, trying his best to concentrate. Hotch's voice sounded throughout the room, making all heads turn towards him.
"Prentiss, Reid, I need you two to go talk to the parents of the victim, find out as much about her as possible."
He nodded his head, beginning to walk towards the door before Emily let out a load sigh.
His heart dropped.
He really needs to stop getting his hopes up.
"Can someone else go with Reid?" She said. "I can not handle his bullshit right now."
Spencer froze. He searched through the voice, hoping, pleading, to find some form of a lightheaded joke. He didn't find that, and he had to tear his eyes away from the black haired girl in front of him.
He could see Rossi smirk, Morgan shook his head without a word, and JJ just pretended like a sentence that absolutely broke him wasn't just said. He expected someone, anyone, to stand up for him. Hell, maybe he was even looking for an apology.
When he was met by the local PD snickering at him, with Hotch letting out a simple "Fair", Reid felt tears prickling at his eyes.
"I'll go alone." Spencer said quietly, eyes glued to the floor.
It struck them as strange, but no one could be bothered to ask him about it. Spencer doesn't know which one he'd prefer, them asking or them not asking. He was confused, mind racing, and he just needed to get the fuck out.
"I can't send you alone, Reid." Hotch's eyebrows were furrowed.
Spencer could've sworn he saw a flash of concern and worry across Hotch's face. He probably just imagined it, really. They didn't care.
He cleared his throat before looking towards everyone. His hands were shaking once again, and he felt as if he was going to be sick at any moment. So, he did what he does best: covering his real feelings with facts.
"Statistically speaking," He muttered, voice shaky. "It would probably be better if I went alone. Most parents of victims feel intimidated when more than one co-"
"Oh my God." Morgan snapped, clear annoyance lacing his voice. "Do you ever stop talking? We don't care, just go!"
The room stilled once more, and Spencer could practically feel the shock rolling off of everyone. Even Morgan looked shocked, gaping at him as if the words didn't literally just leave his own mouth.
He gulped, turned around, and slowly walked away. The local PD snickered once more, and he was trying his hardest not to break down right then and there.
Morgan was his best friend. He's been his best friend since he first started at the BAU. Never in a million years did he expect to hear those words being said by him. He never thought they'd come from Emily, either. The moment he pushed open the double doors of the police station, he stopped denying what was true.
He didn't mean anything to them anymore.
They were getting tired of him, if they're not already. He can't say he blames them, really. He's too awkward. Too clumsy. Things go over his head way too often. He spews out tons of pointless information that they probably never even wanted to know.
Spencer had just always thought that's what they loved him for.
Four: Garcia
The final blow came from the person he least expected; Garcia.
A month after his realization, he was doing worse than before. He stopped talking as much, made sure he was the first to leave the room, and tried to make himself as small as possible. His apartment was a mess, books and random papers thrown everywhere. His fridge was almost completely empty. He hardly slept.
His mother's death broke him, but the team are the ones shattering it into tiny pieces.
He had dark circles around his eyes. He was noticeably thinner, his hair almost always looked like he hasn't showered in weeks, and he's showed up to work multiple times wearing the same outfit as the day before. Sometimes even a week before. But, once again, no one said anything.
Honestly, he's getting pretty fucking tired of pretending that he was fine.
He was having a bad day, missing his mother while trying to fight the urge to relapse. All he wanted was someone in his corner. Someone to talk to, someone to hug him. He needed someone to tell him he was loved, that he wasn't alone.
He walked into Garcia's office. She would be different. right? Garcia loves everyone, especially the team. He gave her a soft smile and a wave as she turned slightly to see who walked in. That smile faded when Garcia didn't return it, lowly groaning at the sight of him.
He was so fucking stupid. Why would this be any different than the rest?
"What can I do for you, Reid?" Her voice sounded void of any emotion.
Tears built in his eyes, but he blinked them away. "Nothing, um." He started. "I was just hoping we could talk?"
Reid went to sit in the chair beside her, but she quickly set her bag in the seat. He backed up slightly. His throat was closing up, and his heart was beating too fast. "Busy." She replied, not even looking at him.
"Oh." He whispered, wrapping his arms around himself. "I was just having a bad day, and I was hoping we c-"
Garcia turned around sharply, making him drop what he was saying. "What, Reid? I'm busy enough without you breathing down my neck. Can you please handle your own problems alone instead of leaning on everyone else? God, it's just like when you were using. But, hey, at least you're not as rude right?"
She continued, but he wasn't listening. The high pitched ringing was back, and he was falling apart.
It's just like when you were using.
When you were using.
They knew. They knew he was struggling. They knew he was at the lowest he had ever been. Yet, they didn't even try to help. They didn't even say a word. Tears were rolling down his cheeks, instinctivly scratching at his elbow. He wasn't sure if she was still talking or not, but he didn't really care at this point.
"Using?" He muttered, more to himself. "You knew? Everyone knew, and no one cared enough to say anything?"
Garcia's eyes grew wide, gaping at him as if she just realized what she said. Tears were pouring over, and she tried to stutter something out before he spoke again.
"I was slowly killing myself, yet it didn't matter to any of you."
"Spencer, that's-" She choked out a sob as the sound of the door slamming shut interrupted her. Make up was running down her face. She waited a few minutes, calming herself down before she followed after him.
Spencer was starting to understand. They weren't snapping on him just because they were having a bad day. The annoyance evident in their voices wasn't temporary. They just gave up on him. They gave up on him like most people do.
And Spencer couldn't muster up the energy to even try to convince himself that it wasn't his fault.
Spencer made his way back to his desk, silent tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. Before he could even get the glass doors open, he stopped in his tracks. The team, sans Hotch and Garcia, were standing around their desks. They were laughing, talking, purely enjoying each others company.
His heart shattered once more before he came to another painful conclusion.
He hasn't seen the team that happy in weeks. Emily was talking, JJ laughing at whatever it was she was saying. Morgan was leaning his back against the desk that was in their line of sight, listening intently, putting his own two sense in. Rossi was a bit farther back, his lips turned into a smirk as he watched the scene before him. But, someone was missing. He wonders if they even notice that he wasn't in the room.
They probably didn't, if he's being honest. They were happy, at ease. Spencer really couldn't try to convince himself that the fact that they're so happy without him, while they were so annoyed around him, was just a coincidence.
That was his breaking point.
He pushed open the glass doors. A few people stopped and stared, looking curiously at his tear stained cheeks. He didn't make eye contact, staring straight ahead as people began to whisper around him. He knows he looks like a mess. Blood-shot eyes, messy hair laying over his forehead.
It caused the others to look up, smiles dropping in an instant. Concern layered over them as they took in the look of complete exhaustion that could be seen on his face. They didn't get a chance to say anything as Reid pushed open the door to Hotch's office. He missed Garcia running in, tears in her eyes.
"Reid?" Hotch asked, a hint of confusion being evident. Tension filled the air, especially once Hotch took in the state he was currently in. Guilt slowly creeped up his throat. He's almost positive he knows exactly what caused this.
Spencer has to admit, the annoyance that has been targeted towards him the last few weeks was mostly gone. It's a bit too late for that, though. He's already made up his mind.
"Is everything ok-" Hotch began, only to be cut off by a paper being set down in front of him. He looked over it, heart breaking.
"My letter of resignation." Spencer's voice cracked, but at this point, he couldn't care less. He took off his badge, picking up his gun to set them neatly on top of the paper. "I don't want to be reassigned. I think I am done with the FBI, especially the BAU."
He turned on his heel before Hotch could respond. He heard the chair squeak, footsteps quickly trying to catch up with him. "Reid, wai-"
"No." Spencer said numbly.
He made his way to his desk, ignoring the looks of shock, concern, guilt. He didn't waste any time before packing his things, shoving whatever he could into his messenger bag. Unlike the others, his desk wasn't filled with many personal items. Maybe a few books in his drawer, an antique his mom sent him a few years ago, and a few pictures he had with the team stacked neatly under the books he had.
Those pictures were his lifeline sometimes. When things got rough, when things got so much harder to deal with, he'd look at them. They'd bring a small smile to his face, a reminder that he wasn't alone. A reminder that he had a family, that he was loved.
He left the pictures where they were, now just a reminder of the family he lost. A reminder of the false hope he gave himself, how stupid he was to let his guard down.
Everyone was talking all at once, trying to get him to listen. Trying to apologize, trying to get him to stay. He wasn't paying attention.
He quietly snapped his bag, throwing it over his shoulder. He planned on leaving without another word, but one sentence had him stopping in his tracks, fury building up behind his eyes.
"Reid, you can't just run away every time someone hurts your feelings!"
Hotch said it a little too loudly, causing the room to still. Rossi looked like he agreed, but he kept his mouth shut. Emily and JJ were gaping at him, but they didn't say anything. He just said what everyone was thinking, really. Morgan had his head down, hands softly rubbing his temples as if he was ready for this to just be over with.
And Garcia, well. Spencer doesn't think he's ever seen her with so much anger and sadness in her eyes.
He doesn't want to care. But he does. He wanted to feel guilty. But he doesn't.
With the slight red tinge to his face, along with the death glare he was sending the older man, they knew: they have completely, and utterly fucked up.
"Hurt my feelings?" Spencer bit out. "You think this is because you hurt my feelings?"
Hotch shrugged, opening his mouth to respond before someone else beat him to it.
"What else would it be, Spence?" JJ shrugged, a pleading look that said please, talk to us.
He almost laughed.
Because he tried really fucking hard to talk to them.
"We know we haven't been very... kind to you the last few weeks. And we're all so sorry." Everyone nodded in agreement, their own apologies flying out of their mouths.
"A lot has been happening, kid." Morgan sighed, pushing off the desk to stand up straighter. "It wasn't personal!"
Murmurs of agreement were said. He opened his mouth, ready to scream, ready to defend himself. Rossi beat him to it.
"Hotch is right." He said, looking Spencer right in the eyes. "You can't just run away. Isn't this the exact reason why you were away for two weeks? You need to start facing your pro-"
In an instant, the fury Spencer was feeling was completely gone. Rossi's voice became background noise, a high pitched ringing in his ears. His hand went slack from where he was holding his bag, body tremors coming to a halt.
For a split second, all the team could feel is pure relief. The tension left his body, making them think that maybe, just maybe, they didn't fuck up too bad.
Until they saw the light leave his eyes.
Yeah. They fucked up.
Spencer opened his bag, digging around inside as curious eyes watched him. He pulled out a small pamphlet, throwing it in Rossi's direction. It landed on the floor, and once Rossi picked it up, realization hit them like a brick.
"I took two weeks off because my mother died." Spencer said, voice monotonous.
"Spencer, we-" Garcia finally spoke up, staring at him with so much pain in her eyes.
Spencer hates it.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Emily whispered, eyes glued to the paper. "We could've been there for you."
For "some of the best minds in the world," these people were pretty fucking dense. He wanted to be angry, wanted to snap, wanted to scream, cry.
He didn't.
"I tried." He said.
They looked confused for a minute. Their eyes looked defensive, waiting for Spencer to elaborate on what he meant. He didn't try to tell them, did he? No, they would've been there for him. They wouldn't have just ignored him, not when he was clearly in so much pain. He didn't try, right?
Spencer could practically physically see them thinking back. He was quiet, giving them a moment to think. He knew the exact moment that they realized.
He knew they were about to apologize. He didn't care. He didn't want to hear it. At this point, he couldn't hear it. He was breaking. He was exhausted.
"Just stop." Spencer said numbly. "I really don't care, anymore."
No one knew what to say, really. They know that there wasn't really any way to come back from this one. They didn't just "hurt his feelings." No, they hurt him, and then they ignored the fact that he was hurt. They left him when he needed them the most, even when he had desperately reached out for someone to be there.
They weren't coming back from this.
They didn't deserve to, honestly.
They still tried, though. "We're so sorry." Garcia took a step forward, coming to a halt when Spencer took an even bigger step back.
"We ju-"
"We didn't kn-"
"We love you-"
Once again they were all talking at once. Spencer just stood there, staring at them with not a single hint of emotion. Eventually he sighed, plucking the pamphlet out of Rossi's hand. He went to turn around, went to finally walk away, before a voice had him stopping once again.
"Spencer, we love you. Please, let us try again." JJ said softly, blood-shot eyes and tear stained cheeks. "We're family. You're our family."
He turned, fully facing them. He could see the guilt evident. The shame at their own behavior, the concern about him leaving, being alone once more. He could also see the hurt that was hiding. The hurt at the fact that Spencer was the one letting them go. That Spencer was throwing away years of friendship and family, that he wasn't giving him a second chance.
This whole conversation, and they still don't fucking get it.
And, well. Spencer's learned his lesson this time.
"The only family I had is dead."
Then, he was gone. No one ran after him. They all stared at him as he walked out of the BAU, guilty and quiet. They were going to give him space, then go to his apartment tomorrow to actually make things right.
It never crossed their mind that Spencer wasn't planning on making it to tomorrow.