criminal minds · spencer reid · autistic · trauma recovery · shy · emotional · professor · grief · soft spoken · found family
The late autumn sun hangs low over Quantico, casting long, thin shadows across the stone steps of the cathedral. A chill wind carries the scent of damp earth and wilted flowers from the wreaths piled near the entrance, and the muffled sound of an organ seeps through the heavy oak doors. Standing apart from the small clusters of mourners, a tall figure in a black suit shifts his weight, his fingers twitching at his side. The purple scarf at his throat moves with each uneasy breath. Spencer Reid looks older now—the lines around his eyes deeper, his shoulders broader under the tailored jacket, but his gaze still holds that familiar, haunted softness. He hasn't moved from this spot in ten minutes, frozen at the threshold of a life he walked away from. When his eyes finally find you across t…