Phoenix | S.R.

Ch. 10 | Forever

Summary: Spencer and Reader begin to heal from their loss.

A/N: This is the final chapter of the main story, which will be followed by a multi-part epilogue! Thank you for following along with me on this journey. I've had a blast revisiting this story with you.

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I'd always had a hard time sleeping anywhere but my bed. No matter how many times I traveled, the hotel beds and jet plane seat was always a struggle. So when I woke up in the morning, curled up on my couch with Spencer's arms around me, I had to stop and ask myself if any of it was real.

I held my breath as I waited for the dream to come to an end. Cautiously, I ran a few fingers down his forearm to test the bounds of reality.

When he moved, he did so to pull me closer. I felt his breath fanning softly against my neck and I recognized it as something beyond a memory. I felt it in butterflies and warmth blooming in my cheeks. He was too real to be a fantasy; to perfect to have been crafted by my bitterness.

Despite the beauty of it all, however, I was still miserable. My head was pounding from dehydration and the sunlight caught behind the curtains reminding me that tomorrow had come, and I had to face it whether I was ready or not.

Slipping from his arms was easier than I thought. I had to laugh when he hardly moved in the fray. I could only imagine how tired Spencer Reid would have to be for him to sleep through something like that. For once, I let him be. In peace, without worry.

As I padded over to the kitchen and started the pot of coffee, I rubbed my neck to work out the tension that had formed from the odd angles of the couch. But the contact reminded me of his breath on my skin and I was forced to stop. I rushed to the bathroom and splashed water on my face in the hope that it would wash away the unease.

It felt so counter-intuitive, to try to forget how it felt for him to hold me. Before, I would have given anything to feel it forever, but now things were just so complicated. I couldn't help but feel uneasy whenever he looked at me, as if it was a sin just to be seen by him.

Still... It was nice to be held by him. That wasn't my fault, either.

When I got back to the kitchen, he was sitting at the table, staring at his old clock that hung on my wall. He seemed lost in thought, so I didn't bother him yet. I poured him a cup of coffee and dumped far too much sugar in it before i brought it to him.

He looked away from the minute hand with a small, appreciative smile before he took the mug in his hands.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

It was all so terribly calm. So beautifully domestic. I took a seat next to him rather than across from him and tried to allow myself the pleasure of enjoying his presence like I used to. I took a sip from my own drink and looked across the table at a stack of papers I hadn't touched.

Among them was the envelope I'd never opened.

With a glance at a confused Spencer, I reached across the table. The envelope seemed so much lighter when he was with me. Maybe it was just because I'd actually slept through a night. Either way, I held it loosely between my fingers and took my time considering what I should do with it.

But then I said fuck it, and held the damned thing out to him.

He put his mug down but kept his hand around it like an anchor. His eyes scanned the label that read my name and a date from two months ago. His breath rapidly increased, and his eyes moved swiftly back and forth between me and the flimsy pieces of paper.