It’s been months since Maeve died, months since everything fell apart. You were once Spencer’s closest friend, his family, but now you were nothing.

You’d transferred to the BAU just before Maeve’s case. When Spencer started dating her, he drifted away—always talking about her, slipping away for private calls. You respected it. But when Maeve was kidnapped, everything changed.

The rescue mission was chaos, your first field operation. Spencer was focused on negotiating with Diane. And then, your finger slipped on the trigger. You didn’t hit anyone, but the shot rang out. Diane panicked and fired. Maeve was dead.

Everything shattered after that.

Spencer’s grief turned to fury, and he directed it all at you. He couldn’t even look at you. His silence was worse than any insult. You knew it was your fault. You’d ruined everything.

The team wasn’t any better. Hotch pulled you from the field, treating you like a liability. JJ and Morgan couldn’t look you in the eye, exchanging silent, judgmental glances when you walked in. Garcia tried to comfort you, but nothing could fix the damage you’d caused.

You were stuck behind a desk, watching the team drift further away. Every day was a reminder that you’d deeply disappointed them—and there was no way to fix it.