5 graves lying side by side.

Cruz sat down at his desk and sighed.

He rested his head on his hands and tried to make the burning in the back of his throat disappear.

It took him a while to realise something was different.

It wasn't that there wasn't any noise coming from the normally bustling bullpen. It wasn't that the conference room was empty even though the team wasn't on a case, and it wasn't their day off.

It was an envelope resting on top of his desk. 'CLASSIFIED' was stamped on the top with red ink.

He picked it up as if it might break. He shut his eyes tight and when he opened them the letter was still there, so he wasn't dreaming.

The realisation hit him like a bus.

This was the letter.

This was the note that they should have found at the apartment but didn't.

This was the note that would explain why.

Cruz opened the large envelope and slipped another, smaller, envelope from inside. This one was cream coloured and had Spencer Reid's curly but neat writing on the front reading,

Section Chief Matt Cruz

Before opening the envelope, Cruz paused. Did he want to read it? After all he'd read hundred like it in the academy. Wouldn't it be the same?

He shook the thought out of his head. Spencer had written his last letter, to him. It was his duty to read it, whether he wanted to or not.

He opened the top of the envelope and slid the contents out gingerly. Inside was Spencer Reid's FBI badge and credentials. Cruz picked it up and smiled when he saw the picture. Reid's hair was much longer then, and he looked so much younger. There was a light in his eyes that hadn't been there when Cruz had met the genius for the first time. It was a light, Cruz knew, that you lost when you killed someone, or saw someone die in front of you, and knowing that you failed.

Cruz shut the credentials and slid them away, before turning his attention towards the other item in the envelope.

This one was two thin pieces of notebook paper, folded into thirds.

Cruz unfolded the pieces of paper to reveal Spencer's message. Written in small print, so neat it could have been typed.

Cruz got up, closed the office's blinds, locked the door and sat back down. He took a deep breath and started reading.

Dear Section Chief Mateo (Matt) Cruz,

If you're reading this I've been successful. Which means that I'm dead.

I know that this isn't what you expected Matt. If you did you would have, at worst, have had me placed in a psychiatric facility, and at best you wouldn't have let me out of your sight.

But Matt, this isn't what I was expecting either.

At no point in my life did I think that it would lead to this. But I don't know what to do, I just know that it has to stop. Grave after grave after grave. I'm sick of burying my friends. First it was Emily (even though she didn't actually die), then it was Strauss believe it or not, and then Gideon. My oldest friend and the one who believed in me when no-one else did. The one who introduced me to this new and exciting life. Which was everything that I wanted, even if I didn't know it at the time.

Then there was Hotch. A man that fit the role of leader perfectly. Who took on every extra page of paperwork that he could, if he knew that it would help someone else. But he still managed to make time for his son whom his loved more than life itself. He was brave, kind (even though he wasn't the best at showing it), and he saved my life more times than I can count. But most importantly he was my friend, and I'm grateful that I met him.

Next was JJ. She had a smile that could light up any room, and she refused to let it be smothered by the horrific people we met and fought day after day. She was my best friend. The best friend I could ask for. But in the end, she was so much more than that. She was someone that I could always talk to, she was someone that would have helped me out no matter the price that she would have to pay. She would have given someone the shirt off her back if they needed it, and she often put herself in danger to protect the people she cared for. She was an extraordinary person and I'm proud that she thought me worthy of being the godfather to her children.

After came Rossi. He founded the BAU along with Gideon even when people told him that profiling wasn't a real science and that his efforts would achieve nothing. But look what he created. The BAU helps people all around the world and will, hopefully, continue to help people for many years to come. He was a man I idolised growing up and was an even better person when I got to know him. He was caring, put up with my horrible attempts at cooking, and my coffee addiction. He was a man who adored his daughter and grandson, even though he met them later in his life. He was a much better father figure to me than my real father ever was, and I'm extremely thankful that I got to know him.

Next came Garcia. Garcia was one of a kind. No one can replicate her; they wouldn't even come close. She filled her dark office with colour and compassion, and even as horror filled her screens she never gave up hope that we would come back to her, safe and sound. And if we didn't, god help the person who prevented that, because she would find them and destroy them the only way she could. Digitally. You should have seen the lecture she gave Morgan after I got shot. Despite of her protective nature she was incredible caring, and she once attended a death row inmate's execution because he had no-one else to ask, even after he tried to kill her. I don't know how she did it. How she kept a smile even as her world fell apart, over and over again. But she did, and she was like the older sister I never knew I wanted, but I would give anything to get her back.

That means that the last person was Morgan. Derek Morgan was more than he looked. He looked like a weightlifter who didn't finish high school. But he was so much more than what he seemed. He was smart, and more importantly he knew how to read people. A skill that took me years to perfect. He was also very stubborn, and made jokes about people on the team, me being his favourite victim. But I didn't mind, and I know that he would have stopped if I had asked him to. I actually grew to enjoy the jokes and me and him staged many prank wars over the years, which drove the others crazy. Derek Morgan was more than a friend to me. He was my brother, the best brother I could have asked for.

So there they are. Those are the people I would have died for, and the people that I wish I died with.

So Matt, here it is. Here's the note that you were all expecting.

So before I go I have to say. Thank you, Matt. You're a great Section Chief and what happened to us wasn't your fault. It was no one's fault but the unsubs, and I really hope that you find them. You're a good man Matt, and I'm proud to have served this country with you.

Two last things, I know that I'm not in position to ask for favours, but could you try and arrange for me to be buried near the others, even though I didn't die in the line of fire? Could you also make sure that the three boxes in my apartment make it to my mother, Diana Reid, in Vegas? They're nothing dangerous, just books. She probably won't remember me by the time they arrive, but she might enjoy them. I hope that she does. Thank you, Matt.

This is Doctor Spencer Reid's formal resignation, active immediately.

So, for old times' sake,

Wheels up.

Cruz didn't know that he was crying until the first of the tears hit the paper. He moved the letter to the side to protect it and buried his head in his hands and cried until there was a knock on his door, then he wiped his tears, carefully put the letter away and opened the door.

Within a week Cruz had arranged everything. He'd taken the three boxes to Las Vegas personally and saw that Spencer was right. Diana Reid didn't remember her son, but she seemed to enjoy the books.

He'd then drove back to Quantico for the funeral.

Spencer got his wish. He'd been buried next to his friends, despite several people on the director's board opposing to the decision at first. But they all suddenly changed their minds when Cruz threatened to bring up the personal expenses that they'd put on the FBI's account.

After all that was over. He'd been ordered to create a new team. He'd asked Emily Prentiss to be the new Unit Chief, but she'd refused saying that it would be the same.

She was right, it wasn't. The new team did their best, but they just weren't the team. No one could ever replace them. The BAU just wasn't the same without them, and Cruz understood why Spencer made the choice that he did.

Cruz sat at his desk and sighed.

Six graves lying side by side.