"ＷＨＡＴxＤＯxＹＯＵxＭＥＡＮ xＨＥ＇Ｓ xＤＥＡＤ？！？"
( wc: 1,180 ) ( notes: Some angst because I felt like it c': )
( wc: 1,180 ) ( notes: Some angst because I felt like it c': )
- Hollow eyes, hollow soul, hollow body....nothingness. He had fallen into a weird state of depression, breath puffing slowly from his mouth as his tired heart tried desperately to keep this body alive without the support of the mind. Spring had arrived and around him there was just new life and growth everywhere, but he couldn't feel more dead. But maybe death was actually a more comforting thought than where he was right now. It's like he'd gotten stuck somewhere between reality and a scary, dark shadowy place in his mind and even though he tried desperately to scrabble back to the surface- icy hands dragged him back into the shadows. But he was too tired to keep going, he was giving up. What did it matter anyway? He had screwed up, made faults that would forever ruin his life and he no longer had the ability to long for a fresh start. He didn't deserve such a thing. He was only a young adult, should just be getting excited at the prospect of starting a new family of his own but all he wanted was to curl up and die. Die, die, die....Suicidal thoughts tended to control the one functioning part of his mind as much as he tried to ignore them. He was so fed up, he just wanted to finish this life. Maybe it was the coward's way out but he honestly could no longer care, he'd destroyed anything that had meant anything to him. He was sick of living like this. He couldn't help but feel bitter towards his parents as much as he hated himself for it. They let love get in the way, he'd thought their love was strong enough to have made it that he would still be a decent man for despite having mixed bloods- both these bloods were filled with love. But he'd been wrong, he was a dirty mutt and because of that he couldn't stay loyal to a singular person and destroyed all connections with anyone.
His breath was slow and heavy as he continued forward, where even was he? He tried to focus on his surroundings but his gaze kept swimming and black dots seemed to crowd his vision every time he tried to focus on something. He was skinny and unhealthy looking, skin loose ragged and failing to hide the scars it used to conceal so well. He'd gone off eating and now that he'd gotten over the hunger, the smell of fresh meat just made him want to puke. He did force himself to gulp down a few morsels everyday...or maybe every second day he'd lost track of time but it was just enough to keep him alive as starving himself to death wasn't going to work if he was trying to find a way out. That was too slow, he wanted something quick and sharp to end this pitiful story. Never had he actually believed he'd crave such a thing as death and it spooked him. He'd always been optimistic, always believed that there'd be light at the end of the corridor. You're going through a tough time yes but one day you'll look back and it'll all be far away and you'll be happy and relieved you kept going. But no one prepared him for just how hard this period of time would be. Plus would he ever be happy again really? If his dirty blood really did cause this then it would just happen over and over again, he wanted to be gone. He liked sleeping a lot recently, it was the only time he was ever truly free from the thoughts that plagued him. Death was just that eternally, it didn't really sound so bad anymore. It was just the dying part that scared him, what if it hurt really bad? What if he tried to end himself and failed and just ended up a mangled mess in complete agony. A nervous shudder rippled through him.
His only hope was Jennifer , maybe he could find her...maybe she'd help him get away from this scary place. But he had stayed far away from her because here was him being a coward again, scared of the reaction he'd get and how if it were to be bad...it'd tip him over. They'd kill him either physically or mentally and they were just as bad as the other for it both ended up with him gone. But maybe that wasn't bad, maybe that was good? A groan of confusion escaped him, the only sound to be heard from him in a long time. A little girl had died at the clutches of an unsub. He'd let her die..he'd been in the same place and everything yet he hadn't been there to save her. His second chance granted by her, gone, dead. He had no one else to go seeking chances from. He was all out. He was over. Nothing made any sense anymore. The faint sound of a gunshot would ring within the man's ears, a sudden pain piercing his chest as he fell to the ground. Crimson liquids seeping through the many layer of cardigans and woolen coats, until finally. The comforting and sweet embrace of death would envelope him in a soft blanket of sleep. He was finally at peace.
She'd been concerned about him since day one, her dearest Spencer, her best friend, and partner in crime. Perhaps something more...He'd gone through so much, had endured so much pain. Yet still acted as if he were fine. But he was not fine.The loud bustle and commotion of her team, the people whom she'd worked with for over thirteen years, came thundering throughout the headquarters, each of them all destined on one place. The elevator. Fear. It coursed through the petites blonde like snakes venom, as she grasped desperately upon the technical analysis's arm pulling violently at her. "Garcia, Garcia, what's going on?" the little lady would reluctantly turn to face her best friend, doe eyes brimming with overflowing tears, as the sparkly eyeliner formed tear trails down her cheeks. A choked sob would be the only thing that would be uttered from the stalky blonde before the news was broken, "Spencer's dead." It was as if the entire world had stopped. Spencer, dead? How? When? Where? Why? Shaking hands would drops quietly to the profilers sides as weak and knobby knees began to wobble; ready to give out on her at any given moment. "W-What do you mean he's dead? H-He was fine this morning!" Everything was a blur, and she could only catch bits and pieces of the bustle around her. Shot. He was shot. By none other than an unsub. A critical hit to the chest, they said. Pierced his heart, and he died immediately upon impact. A strangled scream would bellow from deep within the agent's chest as every fiber of her being wilted, then and there on the floors of the Quantico headquarters. Her best friend and almost lover, dead and gone, and there was nothing that she could do.
