Spencer Reid wholeheartedly believed for the majority of his life that he wasn't cut out for love. Every person he got attached to left him in one way or another, and each took a part of his heart with them, making his hopes for anything long-lasting very slim. And then he met you.

A new agent at the BAU, incredibly smart, resourceful, beautiful. Everything he ever wanted in someone. Someone who listened to him talk and noticed when something was off. But he resisted it, for the longest time, terrified of loving you and losing you just like everyone else. But when you asked him out to dinner, he physically could not say no.

He fell so quickly, embarrassingly quickly, and you did the same. You made him believe in love again. And through the hardships and struggles of the eight months you were together, he was sure you were the one he was going to marry.

Then, in a case gone horribly wrong, you died. He didn't even get to see you before you passed. He never saw your dead body, never got to tell you just how much he loved you before you passed. And that carefully constructed ability to love that he had built up was lost again, along with his reason for living. He was a shell, nothing more. Didn't smile, didn't laugh, could hardly think unless it was about you. It was absolute torture, for six months. The pain never subsided.

But, it's like he didn't even have a chance to let it fade until you're... back. Alive. Standing at his doorstep with tears in your eyes, trembling hands that reach out in a desperate attempt to hold him, explain everything, apologize. And all his grief morphs into something even more confusing. Anger, denial, elation. All at an overwhelming pace. And through it all, your voice, pleading to him, as he stares at you, trying to figure out if all the mourning has driven him to insanity.

"You're..." he starts, but never finishes. "This is..."

"Please, Spencer, I'll explain everything, just please let me in," you say with a wavering voice, the guilt painfully clear on your face.