Untouchable

When We Last Spoke...

Lydia groaned when she heard a knock at her door at 3 AM on a summer morning. She dragged herself out of bed, knowing that she would be exhausted the rest of the day after this, but she didn't regret getting up when she saw who it was.

Spencer. Her mind ran a mile a minute: What was he doing there? Was it a relapse? Had he had a horrible nightmare? Maybe his last case had ended badly?

"What's wrong, Spencer?" she asked as she threw open her door, stepping out of his way automatically so that he could come in.

But instead of stepping around her, he mowed her down in a hug, burying his face into the top of her head. "Gideon hasn't been showing up to work, so I went to check on him," Spencer admitted, not letting go of her. "I figured he was at his cabin because after his friend died, he didn't like going home. But when I got there, the door was unlocked and he'd left his badge and gun and a letter."

Lydia shuffled away slightly so that she could close the door, then led him over to the couch. "Gideon's left? Do you think it's a 'I don't want to work here anymore' disappearance or a 'drop off the face of the Earth like Elle and I' disappearance?"

Spencer wrapped himself around her once more as soon as they were on the couch, pulling himself into her side like a child. "'Face of the Earth'," he replied. "His letter said he was looking for his faith in humanity again."

"Did you bring the letter?"

Spencer nodded, pulling it out of his pocket and beginning to read it outloud. He didn't need to look at it, given his memory, but having it in front of him felt more real.

"Spencer, I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. You must be frightened. I apologize for that. I never meant to cause you any pain. And I also never envisioned writing this letter. I've searched for a satisfactory explanation for what I'm doing. All I've come up with is that a profiler needs to have solid footing. I don't think I do anymore.

"When my dear friend Sarah was murdered, it tore a hole in me. And I truly believed the way to handle the pain was to get back to our work as quickly as possible. Remember the first case we had after? It was on a college campus. Campuses are supposed to be places of life and excitement. They're supposed to be about the future, figuring out who you and who you're gonna be. They're supposed to be about dreams, not nightmares.

"In this line of work, I was afraid I would lose the ability to trust. But I've realized I can't really look at anyone without seeing their death. And as bad as losing faith in humanity seems, losing your faith in happy endings is much worse. Kids-- they're so resilient. They trust and believe in a way I remember but can't reach anymore. Like a very old picture. You remember the circumstances with the feelings, the emotions, but they're just out of your grasp.

"What was I even doing there? How many times have I told you that a profiler cannot do the job if the mind is unfocused? My mind has never been more unfocused than it was on that campus. Was the world always this gray? Is it only in the movies that it's black and white? Is that just an illusion? I used to understand my place, my direction, where I was headed. Profiling requires belief-- belief in the profile, belief in yourself.

"Hotch's suspension was the last domino. I said at the beginning of this letter that I knew it would be you to come up here. I'm sorry the explanation couldn't be better. 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.

"Lydia kept telling me to worry about me and that's what I'm doing. I just wish I could tell her how sorry I am for the way things ended between us. She was so brilliant and I couldn't understand why she didn't want to use her skills to help people, but now I realize that what she did wasn't running. She was protecting herself from the tragedy. If you can find her again, Spencer, hold onto her. I know how much you two cared for one another.