He often thought about her when he was away, but everything had changed when they realized the unsub was a teenager. As they chased Jeremy Sayer throughout the Midwest, she was on his mind. Every crime scene changed in retrospect. Why did they suddenly feel more violent, more dangerous than they had before? When Reid walked the Archer scene with Rossi, why did he feel so outraged and so scared at once?

It wasn't until Jeremy held his sister hostage that it hit him. Jeremy reminded him of the Bianca's brother, the stories she'd told him. He hadn't been able to stop himself from wondering what would've happened if Rick Brown had been more violent. More sociopathic. What if he'd hurt her that way? What if he still did? The thought terrified him. And at the same time it provoked an anger in him that startled him. He couldn't stand the thought of someone wanting to hurt her. Maybe that's why it was so difficult to watch Jeremy hold a knife to Carrie.

This was what happened when you loved someone, he realized. You made connections on cases. You saw them in the victims. You saw that someday, if things went wrong, they could be a victim. How absolutely terrifying.

When Reid returned to DC, the first thing he wanted to do was see her. Even though he knew, logically, she was safe, he felt a strange need to prove it to himself. That nobody had hurt her while he was away.

"Sorry about the mess," she said when he arrived. "I'm almost done with dinner."

"Don't worry about it." He slipped off his shoes, setting his bag by the door. "It smells amazing, whatever it is."

"Pasta al limon, chicken in a white wine sauce, and sautéed zucchini."

"It sounds amazing too," he laughed.

Bianca hurried back over to the stove to pour something from a pot into a pan. "Have you eaten yet? I made plenty if you want a plate."

He hadn't, and the delicious aromas in the kitchen made him all too aware of the hollowness in his stomach. "That would be great, thank you." He went to the sink to get them both glasses of water, watching as she darted about the counters, opening cabinets and throwing spices on things. Her eyes bright as they danced over shelves, her cheeks flushed from the heat of the stove. He observed the curve of her hips as she stood on her toes to grab something from higher up. She was lovely, and he was perfectly content to admire her as she finished plating the food, knowing he couldn't be of any use in the culinary realm.

"Voila," she said, placing two plates of food on the table. "Table for two." He folded his napkin in his lap while she bowed her head in quick, silent prayer. The steam was still rising from the pasta and the vegetables. In that brief moment he couldn't help but think how domestic it felt. It would be so nice if after every case he could come home to her. When she looked up again, he eagerly grabbed for utensils, feeling more ravenous now that the meal was before him than he had when he arrived.

The moment Reid tried it he realized that it somehow tasted even better than it smelled. "Oh my god." He set the fork down. "You made all of this?" Looking a little hesitant, she nodded. "It's good! It's really good! I know you said you could cook, but you can cook." It was warm, perfectly savory, with just the perfect balance of herbs and flavor. He didn't know much about cooking, but he knew when something tasted good. Reid eagerly went to take another bite, but Bianca's giggle stopped him. "What is it?" he asked, noticing the way she was staring at him. "Did I say something wrong?

"No, not at all," she said. "It's just… well, you know I have a weird relationship with food. Eating is more of a chore for me, and cooking is how I try to make it feel a little more fun while still feeling in control. But it's really nice to see someone take such delight in what I make. The way a meal is meant to be enjoyed."

He let himself pause in that moment to take in the smile that stretched the freckles on her face, the way her eyes seemed to shine when she was looking at him. She was okay. Bianca was safe. She was here. What had happened to those families hadn't touched her. And when he felt certain of that, he finally took another bite of food, and told her, "Well, it's a sacrifice I'm more than willing to make if you ever need to be reminded. I can hardly make toast without burning it."

"Well you're always welcome here," Bianca said. Her smile sent his heart skipping. "Which reminds me – you sounded a little anxious when you called and asked to come by earlier. I'm always happy to see you, but is everything okay?"

Reid twirled pasta on his fork. "Yeah, it's okay!" It was now. But she didn't look convinced. He owed her honesty. "I mean… it is now. The case, it was just a hard one. And I missed you."

"What happened? On the case, I mean." Visions of Nebraska flashed through his mind. The bodies, the homes turned into crime scenes, the rage that someone so young could possess. He wanted to forget.

Reid sighed. "B, I don't know if it's a good idea to-"

"Spencer," she interrupted. "I worked a case with you once. I can handle it, I promise."

"It's not that. I just don't want to bother you with this. It's heavy."

Bianca reached across the table to take his hand. "So let me share the burden. You've done so much for me. You encourage me when work is hard, you surprised me with the stars, you put up with my parents, for God's sake. Let me be there for you too."

When she looked at him like that, it was so hard to say no. After all, he had been told again and again by the Bureau that it was important to talk through trauma with someone he trusted and there were few people he trusted as much as he trusted her. If he wanted to keep her in his life, he had to let her into it, even the darker parts. Perhaps alone, it wouldn't be such a heavy burden to bear. Reluctantly, he agreed. They finished eating, and as they stood by the sink doing the dishes together, he told her about it – leaving out some of the gore but letting himself share the things he felt as he worked. The shock and sorrow he tried so hard not to let show when he was on a case.

They moved to the couch as she asked him questions. She held his hand, keeping him grounded in the now as she did so. Connected to her. "I guess it's bothering me so much because of you," he admitted.

"Because of my brother?"

Reid nodded. "I just kept thinking about what you had to go through, and what could've happened. I just got so scared that something like that could happen to you." The notion was terrifying. Now that she was in his world, he couldn't imagine life without her in it. "I guess that's part of why I wanted to come see you. I just needed to remind myself that you were safe."

Bianca caressed his cheek. "I am safe. I'm here. I'm with you."

He leaned into her touch, letting it wash away his fears. "I know. I just… I'm not used to feeling this way. But I know that I'm only scared because I love you." The words still felt so new on his tongue each time he said them.

"I love you, too." But oh how sweet they sounded when she echoed them back. "And it's still strange for me – worrying about you all the time when you're gone. But I'm really happy that you told me about it."

She let her head fall against his chest and he hugged her close, holding her tight as if an embrace alone could protect them both. And she was right. Somehow, he felt a little lighter now. A little better because of her.

Penelope had convinced her to come out for a night of drinks with the women of the BAU, and feeling pleasantly surprised, she'd agreed. Spencer had been a little disappointed to discover she had plans for the night, but he seemed happy that his worlds were coming together. By the time Bianca arrived with Penelope, Emily was already on her second glass of wine.

"Finally, we can really get this girl's night going!" she said, waving the bartender over.

JJ abandoned her beer on the table to hug them both, Garcia holding her close. "I missed you so so SO much, you have no idea!" she said. It had been almost a month since she'd been forced out of the BAU.

"I miss you too," JJ assured her, with a smile that struck Bianca as sadder than her voice let on. "But I promise I'm not going anywhere. Tonight's for fun things, not for sad things, yeah?"

"Yes, yes, of course!" Penelope agreed. "Bianca, since this is your very first Girl's Night, your first drink is on us. So what'll it be?"

"Really? Are you sure?" she asked.

"You're part of the family!" Emily said. "Just don't order shots – yet." She winked.

Bianca laughed. "I've never really been good at shots – I'm a total lightweight. But a Moscow Mule would be great."

Penelope passed the bartender her card. "One Moscow Mule and one Tequila Sunset, please and thank-you, my good sir." The drinks arrived quickly, and soon they were all catching up on where the team had been traveling lately, why lobbying politicians was so frustrating, and how Henry's first words were progressing. Emily had them all in tears laughing as she regaled them with a story of the time she taught the French ambassador's daughter how to tango in secret before a gala. After her second cocktail, Penelope insisted they play "Never Have I Ever," and it took only ten questions before Prentiss was eliminated.

"You lose," JJ teased.

Emily tossed back the rest of her wine. "I think you mean I win," she retorted, with a smirk. "Bianca, what's your ruling?"

"I have to agree with Emily," she said. "She did nearly get arrested, but I think the fact that she successfully snuck backstage at a Nirvana concert before hand means she's out of the game but sorely besting us at life."

"See, I knew you'd be the perfect addition to these nights," Emily said. "I had a good feeling about you from the moment I saw you and Reid making at eyes at each other in New York."

"What?" Bianca spluttered. "We weren't – I mean we-"

"Oh come on, you two had chemistry," JJ chimed in. "I'd never seen him so happy after a case."

"And anyone who makes our Boy Genius that happy is a quality human being in our book," said Penelope. "Which was only confirmed when he brought you to dinner at Rossi's. You're so good for him, you know? It had been so long since I saw him smile that much. He's actually living a life now instead of living just for this job!"

"What do you mean?" Bianca asked, taking a sip of the drink she'd been nursing all night.

"You didn't see him before he met you," JJ said. "He never did anything on the weekends, and always spent way too much time at work. It was hard for him to relate to people sometimes, so he would just kind of close himself off."

"Really?" Bianca knew he was introverted and sometimes socially awkward, but she couldn't imagine him hiding away from everyone all the time. That didn't sound like the Spencer she knew. "We're always going to museums or parks or something together. He even came dancing with me."

"Dancing?" Emily asked. "Oh I need video evidence of that, stat."

"Believe you me, he almost never went out. If he did something for the weekend, it was always like a chess tournament or a lecture or something like that," Garcia said.

"Oh and remember how we'd get called out on weekends for a case? We'd all bemoan our ruined plans and he'd say, Oh I didn't have plans, all smug-like?" Prentiss added. "I think he was actually happy then to have a case."

"Looking back, I think he was just happy to have people to spend the weekend with. So he wouldn't be by himself," JJ mused.

"You think I did that?" Bianca asked, dumbfounded.

Prentiss nodded. "If you heard the way he talked about you, you'd understand. You're good for him. And we're all glad about that."

He was good for her too. He accepted all the things about her she worried made her unworthy of love. He welcomed her into a family he'd found for himself and made her feel right at home in a way she never had before. She felt braver when she was with him – felt more like herself. There wasn't anything she had to hide or cover up. And she liked the way he made her feel. But to hear that she made a difference in his life too – it made her feel warm in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. They were good together, weren't they? Good for each other.

Spencer made her feel invincible. Things were changing – his unexplained migraines, JJ getting fired, her career in question – but as long as they were together, it would be okay. They were better together.

"What are you saying?" she asked, her voice wavering.

He exhaled. "What I'm saying is that… I don't have the time to…" God he couldn't say it. He had to say it. He had to cut whatever ties she still had to him. After the distance he'd put between them the last few months, he thought it would be far easier, that she would be glad to be rid of him. Instead she only tried to keep him closer. And it would have been so easy to stay. "I mean – I can't keep doing this. Us." He gestured to the space between them, intentionally created, and hopes she gets the message.

"Oh." She straightened herself up and met his eyes. In their depths tears began to brim, and it clear how badly she was trying not to cry. He was hurting her, and she was trying to stay strong, and he hated himself in that moment. More than anything he didn't want to hurt her. It physically pained him to see how hard this was for her. All he wanted was to take her into his arms and promise her it would be all right and that he loved her. Already he missed the feeling of her body in his embrace, pressed against his chest. His head and his heart were fighting an impossible battle, but he knew the only way he could keep her safe from the looming threat of schizophrenia and loss was to let her go.

He could never force her to stay while he fell apart. She deserved better than that. Jaw tight, he struggled to hold his emotions in. "I'm sorry," he said. "I just… I'm so tired. And I need to focus on my work and on my team. They're the ones who matter. They're my family." There was still a spark of determination on her face that told him he wasn't quite ready to let him go. Until the very end she would be willing to fight for them. It would take the lowest of blows to keep her from chasing him down. Something to strike to the most vulnerable parts of her heart. He took a deep breath then added, "I need to be around my family. And you wouldn't understand that either."

Once the words left his lips, he instantly regretted them, watching as she flinched as though hit. That was supposed to be off-limits. He knew just how much she wanted to feel like part of a family. That had been his promise to her, tobe her family. How could he just abandon her like this?

"I thought – I thought I should tell you in person. Sorry." Reid swallowed hard as she stood there, staring wide-eyed up at him. He had to shove his hands into his pockets to keep himself from reaching for her. Her lip quivered, and he wavered on the edge, so ready to tell her it was only to protect her, that he didn't mean a word of it, that he still loved her. Somehow he managed to restrain himself, muttering a hasty excuse. "Goodbye, Bianca."

That was the last image he had of her, red-faced with tears in her brown eyes, looking utterly devastated as he left her alone. Reid turned around and walked down the hall, every step a punch in the gut.

Goodbye, my best friend. Goodbye, my greatest love. Goodbye to the one person who makes me feel normal. Goodbye to the one person who feels like home. Goodbye to all the promises I made to you. To us.

He never did like goodbyes. Reid practically ran down the stairs of the building, shaking the whole way down. Only when he reached the safety of his car did he allow himself to break down. Tears came in violent sobs he'd been holding back since she opened that apartment door. He cried loudly, not caring if anyone in the parking lot saw him. With what he'd said, he knew there was no chance she would have followed him down. So hard was he gripping the steering wheel, desperate for something to hold onto, that his knuckles were turning pale.

He fought to take in enough air with every bone-shaking sob he choked out. How could he do this to her? How could he possibly live with himself knowing how much he'd hurt her? And what about him? Could he really throw away everything he'd come to believe in since meeting her?

He had to.

Emily's death had broken each member of his team. His mother's illness had devastated him. It wasn't fair, to ask Bianca to suffer through losing someone like that. It wasn't fair of him to hold her back. There was no reason for her to stay in DC to care for her crazy boyfriend when she could be abroad, chasing down her dreams. Surely it was only a matter of time before he lost his mind. He put his head into his hands and screamed.

This was the right thing to do.

But god, did it hurt. Hurt so much he couldn't breathe, knowing that she was probably crying alone in her room. Crying because of him. He'd hurt and betrayed her. It would be so easy to get out, walk back inside, climb the forty-two stairs to her apartment, knock on her door, and tell her it was all a lie. Maybe then he could hold her as he longed to do. He could tell her everything, all about how he was afraid he would end up like his mother, and that Emily's death had rattled him, and all he could think about was how much it hurt when people left him. His father. Gideon. Elle. Now, JJ and Emily.

Surely there was no logical explanation as to why it felt as though his chest literally had been split into two. A broken heart was just a metaphor. So why did he feel so broken?

It would hurt even more to know she'd given up on her dreams for the sake of staying with him through an illness that would only take him away in the end.

It took twenty-six minutes for him to stifle his tears enough that he could safely drive home, where he promptly curled under layers of blankets and wished she were there.

It hurt.

But it was better this way.