Be Safe (Criminal Minds/Spencer Reid x OC romantic Fanfic)

MEMORIES (read warning)

WARNING - RAPE TRIGGER

Two weeks she's been gone and the team are exhausted, I have no idea what's going on around me all I know is Amity. I look like a shadow of my former self, a ghost of Spencer. Hotch suddenly appears in front of me.

"You are to go home, you are to go home now." Hotch says to me. I open my mouth to argue but he shakes his head. "JJ is driving you to your house where you will go and eat and sleep, you are to stay there for 24 hours. You will return, if there are any changes you will be notified but you are absolutely no use like this and I will be forced to take you off this case if you aren't functioning properly, do you understand?"

I know when I'm beat and nod, not looking at him. I feel like a child but I know he's right. I trudge silently behind JJ who stays silent for the drive. We get to the door and I turn to her.

"I'm going to get Atticus from next door, I think he'll be good for you." JJ says before turning on her heel.

I step inside and it feels so empty. The absence of Amity is palpable. She is everything and she is everywhere. I stand in the hall, unsure. I only snap back when the door opens and Atticus pulls JJ into the room. He jumps up at me and I drop to my knees, hugging him. I had missed this dog, though he was such a massive reminder of my Am. He starts to run about the house, sniffing for her. I feel like telling him she's not here but I know its no use. JJ hugs me and leaves me wordlessly. I walk to the kitchen and fix myself some dinner: pizza is all I can manage. I take a case of beer and call Atticus up to be with me. I sit in the bed that I usually share with Amity and drink until I pass out.

I must have needed it more than I knew because I woke up eighteen hours later, Atticus sniffing at my face. I pat him for twenty minutes before I get changed into joggers, get Atticus' lead and I go for a run with him. I run until even Atticus, a seemingly little ball of boundless energy, is too tired. My muscles scream but I want to keep going, I don't however. We stroll back slowly and I feed and water Atticus before taking a shower that lasts around an hour. 

I'm stood at the top of the stairs, and before I know what I'm doing I head to Amity's studio. I know this was her sacred space but I found myself intruding. I needed to be around things that were completely her. 

I open the door slowly. I don't know what I expect but when I see inside its like it was exactly what I knew it would be. Everything is organised, there is a large unit full of labelled drawers (Landscapes, Portraits, Commissions, Jack and Henry, Family, Spencer) there are easels and endless shelves full of every artist implement and tools you can imagine, neatly ordered. Then I look at the walls. There is a mural of London taking up all of the largest wall, perfectly and so obviously passionately done. There is a mural of all of us, the team and their families. Our family. There is a drawing of her mum and dad, done from their wedding day but so detailed only someone who knew them inside out could portray. And finally a picture of us, its from a photo I know well, I'm looking down at her, she's looking out and laughing. I know its her favourite because of how I'm looking at her, and she's managed to capture it in the mural. 

My breath suddenly stops and my body aches. I pull open the family drawer and find pictures of the team. Her love, how she just understands people, it comes across in her art. I look through all of the drawers, still in awe of her talent, before opening the drawer with my name. I'm a little taken aback when I see two things: by how full it was and that it wasn't all paintings. In fact most of it was junk.

I place it on the floor of the studio once I realise what it is, go to our room and retrieve a box from the back of my wardrobe. I walk back to the studio and sit on the floor. I begin to go through Amity's box There are reciepts from every date we'd been on, candid photos of me, she'd pressed and kept every flower I'd ever given her. Every note I'd ever left her. Airline tickets from Vegas, menus and businesscards from anywhere we'd gone together. There were sketches of me, dating back to when we first started living together. I find a photo of us from Vegas, she's  lying across me with no makeup on, sheets wrapped around her revealing her bare shoulders. She's looking at me and smiling at me as I'm pulling a face at the camera.