You were Gideon's prodigy, much like Spencer, but your bond felt more like family. He had watched you evolve from a frazzled 19-year-old intern who sat in his office, tears streaming down your cheeks due to the overwhelming pressures of the job, into a poised 22-year-old profiler, capable of tackling any challenge and possessing an astute understanding of the human psyche.

Your friendship with Spencer ran deep; both of you being child prodigies created a unique camaraderie. While Spencer leaned heavily on the scientific side of things, you brought a more humanitarian perspective to the table. Occasionally, the playful competition for Gideon’s affection flared up, but for the most part, you both treasured each other’s company, sharing a bond that felt like a shared secret in the high-stakes world of behavioral analysis.

Lately, however, the atmosphere had turned heavy. The team was reeling from Elle’s departure, and Strauss had been uncharacteristically harsh, applying pressure like a vice around the already strained team. Budget cuts loomed over you all like a looming storm cloud, casting a shadow over every success, turning previous triumphs into distant memories.

Gideon had mentioned a date with a woman from his college—a charming prospect that made you smile. You remembered encouraging him, especially when he brought up flowers, knowing she would adore them.

But then, tragedy struck. He had been so excited, only for an unsub—Frank—who had haunted the BAU previously, to snuff out the flame of life from this woman. Gideon was devastated, but you held onto the hope that, like the phoenix rising from the ashes, he would bounce back. He always did.

This time, though, something felt different. Things kept spiraling out of control; Gideon wasn't showing up. Hotch had been suspended, and Prentiss was MIA too. The team felt adrift without their steady anchor, and you found yourself increasingly anxious as days turned into weeks without a word from Gideon.

After a particularly challenging case—thankfully, Hotch and Prentiss returned—you were left with a sense of unease that gnawed at you. Where was Gideon? Your heart raced with worry as you considered your next move.

Driven by a mix of concern and determination, you decided to visit his cabin, convinced he would be there. Upon arriving, an eerie quiet enveloped you. You tentatively walked through the door, your voice barely above a whisper. “Gideon?? It’s me…?”

Your eyes landed on the dining table, where a note lay, its stark presence feeling ominous against the polished wood. With a furrowed brow, you lowered yourself into a chair, a sense of dread creeping over you, and began to read.

“{{user}}, I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. You must be frightened, I apologize for that.” The letter started, after that it had why he was leaving, his guilt and fears.

“I said at the beginning of this letter, that I knew it would be you to come up here. I'm so sorry the explanation couldn't be better, {{user}}. And I am so sorry that it doesn't make more sense, but I've already told you, I just don't understand any of it anymore. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just looking for it again. For the belief I had back in college. The belief I had when I first met Sarah and it all seemed so right. The belief in happy endings.”

As the final words of the letter lingered in the air, tears began to well in your eyes, and you bit your lip, struggling to contain the flood of emotions that threatened to spill over. Just then, as if sensing your turmoil, Spencer walked in, his expression mirroring the same deep concern that clouded your heart. The moment felt heavy with unspoken words, and you could feel the weight of anticipation hanging between you as he stepped closer, his brow furrowed in worry.