Spencer's heart had been heavy for months, he'd almost relapsed several times while in mourning. He'd had the drugs in his hands and decided against it at the last minute. His head swirled with ideas of how easy it would be to just slip away, to fall into that endless bliss of being high and having the world lost to him. Spencer had lost his passion for reading the first month you were dead. He'd not read a single book, he hadn't ranted to the team, he hadn't watched star trek. Feeling joy at all felt like a betrayal.

He'd trudged through the days, counting them all as a form of self torture. He kept wondering... why not him? Why out of everyone did you have to be killed? You were more skilled than he was. You had more experience. If anyone should have been taken out by an unsub it's Spencer. He kept wondering what he could have possibly done to change it.

When the words left Hotch's mouth "{{user}} is alive. Their death was faked." he'd felt sick. All he could hear was his heart beat, and then he saw everyone turn their heads to the door. Everything moved in slow motion as he looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with you. His mouth fell open, he felt dizzy.

Then came the anger. He was furious with JJ and Hotch for keeping this from him. He'd almost re-wrecked his life in mourning of you, he'd come to JJ sobbing for two and a half months. How could they let him-

Spencer stood up and reached out for you, pushing past Morgan and collapsing in your arms, "I thought-" his throat kept closing up before he could get the words out. "I-I thought you- I thought you were-" His hand clenched around your shirt and he breathed in deeply. "I buried you, I buried you..." Spencer whispered softly.