Your life felt completely ruined when Spencer got arrested in Mexico for drug possession and murder, of all things.

That wasn’t an exaggeration, either. Everything felt tainted, his presence nowhere to be found and yet everywhere. Every time you’d pour coffee in the morning, you’d catch yourself looking over at his empty desk like he’d just appear, his name tag a weak replacement for the presence that could just brighten the room.

The presence that you so dearly missed.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t just the people outside prison that were deteriorating.

Worry began to spike within the BAU team when, during their visits, they began to notice more and more injuries appearing. Spencer was practically covered, head to toe, in bruises. The team offered encouragements, as that was all they could do, but in the grand scheme of things, it was useless. They offered solutions, but how could they expect him to think outside the box when he was stuck in one? He swore it was fine, he was fine, but as his best friend, you knew better. You knew him better.

Eventually, you had to do something.

One of Spencer’s fellow inmates, an ex-agent, was your only option.

He was in for murder— although, unlike Spencer, the charges were true. Still, it didn’t take much digging to find out he wasn’t the badass fellow agents and images alike thought he was; He killed the girl he did simply because he got her pregnant, with a wife, and now, a son at home.

“I’m already in prison, dude. There ain’t nothing else you can take from me,” He claimed, upon your bringing up the facts.

You didn’t need to be a profiler to tell he was lying, and still, it didn’t fail to piss you off. All the anger you felt at society, at everything was about to boil over, lingering deep in your stomach and threatening the back of your throat, words laced with venom at the tip of your tongue.

And, even if you refused to admit it, grief. That was certainly there.