Leap Of Faith

One

A/N: Okay so you've read the story summary and still clicked to read which means you must be aware that this story is potentially triggery. I wrote this five years ago and it's actually a story that I'm very proud of and is very close to my heart. It has however received its criticisms, mostly from people who accused me of romanticising depression and suicide. I don't feel I've done that and I feel that if people actually read to the end of the story, they'll realise that I've tried to the opposite. Alot of this characters thoughts and feelings have been my own at one stage or another which is why this story is somewhat personal. If you chose to read on, I hope you do enjoy it. It has had a lot of positive reactions too. Many people on my tumblr have told me that it's helped them through a tough time.

...

Spencer didn’t know what taken him to this particular spot on this particular night. But if he actually believed in fate, he would have said it was that. The sort of fate which you can’t work out if you’re pleased for or that you’d curse the universe for sending your way.

He’d finished up at the library deciding to walk home through Catton Park instead of his usual route through Main Street and down Second. He’d stop by the old bridge he thought, he liked it there. It was peaceful and looking at the stars sometimes helped clear his head and he needed that tonight.

Bundled up against the cool air he made his way through the park, the fallen leaves crunching under his converse clad feet, enjoying the sound they made. It was 10pm so aside from the odd dog walker and late night jogger, the park was deserted.

Thinking back to the case that had taken up the past two weeks, he shuddered. The image of the two young girls that had been shot to death in front of him still so fresh in his brain. The two girls he’d tried to save but hadn’t been able to talk their captor down from his manic high, convince him that everything was going to be okay.
Shots had been fired, his own aiming straight for the unsub once Spencer had seen him squeeze the trigger. But he’d been too late. And the unfortunate positioning of the girls had meant that the bullet had ripped right through the first girl and into the second, an unpleasant and unwanted reminder of an incident not too long in his own past.

Once he was certain the unsub was dead, Reid had rushed over to the second girl seeing that she was still breathing, blood gurgling from between her lips as she tried and failed to gasp in air, her eyes frightened and starting to glaze over as she’d grasped for Spencer’s hand, needing to feel human touch in her last few moments of life.

She’d died two minute later, Spencer’s hands covered in her warm scarlet blood as he begged for her to hold on for the ambulance. His supervisor SSA Aaron Hotchner had more or less needed to drag him away, realising afterwards that this had triggered the memory of that horrific incident. The paperwork finished, Hotch had insisted that Reid take a few personal days, perhaps contact his therapist.

Spencer had agreed to take the personal days, but had no intention of contacting his therapist. He’d get over it…. Well, he’d file it away to the back of his extensive mind along with the other cases that made him constantly question why he’d chosen the career path he had.

Chosen wasn’t exactly the correct word to use, he’d been groomed for the FBI from a young age, a visiting Agent had lectured during his time at cal-tech and had seen a certain quality to him. Once Spencer had accepted that the FBI was where he was going to end up, he’d been offered a choice of entry positions. However profiling had been the only thing he knew he’d be physically capable of. He could ace any psychological exam or test within an hour, but still struggled to this day to qualify for the physical tests required. Due to his skills though, he was often given a free pass through, something he was grateful for but at times also resented. If he was pushed that bit harder and forced to actually have to qualify for the physical exams then maybe he’d actually push himself harder and eventually end up on the same fitness levels as Morgan or Hotch. He doubted it though, sports and physical activity just wasn’t his thing, it never had been. Numbers and letters, linguistics and patterns; they were his thing, and they along with his true talent of being able to psychologically disarm someone rather than physically needing to take them down, were among the things that made him indispensable to the team.

Continuing his walk home he could see the old bridge approaching, but it didn’t look like he’d be alone in his stargazing tonight.

‘Damn it’ he thought to himself as he wriggled his hands inside his pockets trying to keep warm. Perhaps he’d just carry on home instead.

As he got closer he could see that the figure was a girl, her long auburn hair blowing in the cool breeze. He could hear sniffing, a light sobbing and it sounded like she was talking to herself.

It was only then that he realised she was on the other side of the bridge, her back to the railings, arms looped around the iron poles.

Shit.

Reid stopped, assessing the situation and not wanting to move any closer until he was sure on his course of action. Every few seconds she’d lean forward slightly, her grip loosening, and then she’d seem to lose her nerve and pressing herself back against the stone and metal barrier.

The water below wasn’t that deep, but it was freezing and the river was fairly deserted at this time of night. Due to the structure of the bridge, depending on the angle she fell at, she’d likely hit her head on the way down as well. There’s no doubt that if she went in she’d end up dead one way or another.

Spencer could see a suitcase and a bag leaning up against the side of the barrier along with a pair of high heeled shoes, presuming they were hers. She looked too well dressed and too neat to be homeless so he assumed she was travelling. But what had bought her here, what was so bad that it had her hanging off the side of a bridge in a deserted park at 10pm at night.

There was only one way for him to find out.