The ride home from the hospital passed in a blur for Spencer. He barely even noticed that he was in a car at all. Part of him still felt as if he were back in that hospital waiting room where he'd been for the past few hours waiting on news of Emily. Waiting for someone to tell him that she was going to be okay, that they'd made it there in time and she was safe and alive. But no one was going to tell him that. No one was going to say those words. Instead, over and over he heard JJ's words. "She never made it off the table." Those words played on a loop that he couldn't seem to stop. They just kept replaying, even now, hours later.

Spencer didn't notice the worried look sent his direction from the driver's seat. In that moment, he couldn't have even said who was driving him home. He had been moving like a zombie ever since his initial breakdown in JJ's arms. The tears had come then, pouring out of him, and the broken words. "I didn't get to say goodbye." The grief had swamped him and he'd gladly taken the hug that JJ offered. But when she let go, when he was left standing in the midst of people whose grief seemed to fill the room, he lost any sort of anchor. The world became a blur of blacks and greys and dark blues and purples, all the shades of grief and pain and loss that were wrapping around his friends, around him, until he felt like he was smothered in a blanket of it. Those colored energies, the emotional energy in the room, worked like Novocain, giving him a numbness that saved him from having to feel anything of his own.

Someone's hand had latched on to his arm at one point. Who, he had no idea. But the touch was one he recognized and one he knew he could trust. He let that hand lead him away, somewhere outside, and then into something else. The further away he moved, the more that numb blanket of colors and emotions started to fade away. There was some beside him, though, and he let it fill him. He wanted to be numb. He didn't want to have to feel that pain again. Especially not in front of anyone. Later, when he was alone in his bed, he would grieve for a friend that had been like a big sister. He would let himself break apart a little and mourn someone who never should have died this way. But right now, around people, he couldn't afford it. There was no telling how well his shields would hold up and he couldn't let his own grief seep into his friends.

Suddenly the low vibration around him came to a stop. Spencer barely paid it any mind until a soft voice said "Spence? We're here."

Spencer blinked eyes that felt weighted down. It took a bit to get them to open. When he did, he looked around him with faint surprise. He was home? When had that happened? He looked down at himself and then over to his left, to the driver's seat. It was no real surprise to see JJ there. She was the only one he could think of that would be here. Aaron would be going home to Jack, David would probably be taking Ashley home, and Derek would be with Penelope. Out of them all, JJ would be the one to think of Spencer in that moment. She'd be the one to notice just how numb he was and to get him home safely, even if it meant delaying going to her own family.

She reached out to him, laying a hand on his arm, and her eyes were so full of concern and love. The energy around her changed, the dark colors almost blending in with the dark night. He felt the worry pouring off of her. "Do you want me to come up with you, Spence? I can come stay with you for a little while if you want."

The offer was very much a JJ thing to do. Though Spencer appreciated it, he shook his head. There was no way he'd keep her from her family. She needed to be with them right now. She needed to go hold on to Henry, find shelter in Will's arms, reminder herself that, though she'd lost a friend, her family was still there. That was what she needed right now. Not to babysit him. He shook his head a second time, somehow managing to make his throat work. "No, thank you." He coughed, clearing the small lump that had built there. His voice was just a little flat, the numbness still holding him. "Go be with your family. I just…I need to be alone for a while." I need to be free to feel, to break, where none of you can see me.

He didn't really hear the response she gave. On autopilot, he climbed out of the car and headed towards his apartment building, never looking back, never seeing the way that JJ watched him until he was out of sight. She stayed a few minutes longer, debating, before finally sighing and starting the car once more, promising herself to check on him tomorrow. Tonight, they all needed their space.

Spencer slowly made his way up the staircase. Each step seemed to drag on, like his feet were weighted down. Each one brought him just a little closer to home. He both wanted and feared getting there. He wanted to be there before this numbness faded and the memories and the pain seeped back in. Yet he feared it, also, because the numbness would fade. Right now he didn't have to think or even feel. Everything was a nice blur. When that faded, the world would become real again. He didn't want it to be real.

But bit by bit, reality was sinking back in, and Spencer couldn't hide anymore. By the time he reached his apartment he was struggling to keep his shields in place as memories of this hellish day started to replay in his mind. To anyone watching, Spencer probably looked drunk, barely able to get his key into the lock. When he got his door opened he stumbled inside. Trembles started to spread over him. A part of him stayed coherent enough to shut and lock his door. That was all he had the energy to do, though. When he turned around to head further inside, his body finally gave up the good fight. His knees turned to jelly and he sank to the floor right there in the entryway. Everything that he'd been shoving back was now raging around inside of him. The pain, the grief, the soul deep ache that always came with loss. Not just his own, but the team's as well. By letting himself be numbed by their emotions, he'd drawn some in, instinctively easing them a little. Good for them, bad for him.

Spencer didn't bother trying to get up off the floor. He just curled in on himself, tucking his body into the fetal position, and he hung on for dear life as the trembles overtook his whole body. A low moan slipped past his lips. With everything he had, he fought to try and push the memories back again, to try and harness this pain somehow. It was ripping through him, tearing him apart inside. Pleas flew through his mind. Please, please, let this not be real. Let her be alive. Please, don't let her be gone. I can't take it if she's gone. Not Emily. Not her. Don't take her from us. Don't let her be gone!

How long he laid there, he had no idea. It could've been minutes, or hours, or even days. Time held absolutely no meaning to him in his battle to keep from shattering into thousands of tiny, jagged pieces. But something eventually broke through the pain, fighting through his mind to make itself known. There was a strange sound coming from nearby that a part of his brain was telling him meant trouble. It took a second before he realized that someone was messing with the lock on his door. He didn't get a chance to do anything about it. Right when he mustered up the strength to move his head, to look and see, the lock clicked and the door swung open. The person that came strolling in was the last person Spencer had expected and yet he felt not an ounce of surprise.

Remy LeBeau took in the room with one quick look. A second later he had the door shut and was dropping down to his knees right in front of Spencer. "Oh, cher." The whiskey warm words flowed over Spencer. Warmth reached out to him, both physical and mental. The fierce strength of Remy's love and protectiveness, so sharp and so familiar, slid into him and chased away some of the darkness. Spencer closed his eyes underneath the wave of it. He felt one of Remy's hands stroke his hair back from his face. "Je suis désolé, Spencer. I hurried here as soon as I got de news. I'm so sorry f' y'r loss."

He didn't bother asking how Remy knew. Long ago he'd accepted that Remy had a way of finding out things, especially when it came to his friends. Spencer knew that Remy kept tabs on him. He always had been a protective one.

"C'mon, let's get y' up off de floor." His friend murmured. Then Remy was taking hold of him, lifting his body and pulling him in close. Spencer found himself drawn up whether he wanted to be or not. His legs didn't seem to want to hold him. It didn't stop Remy, though. He just kept drawing Spencer upwards, murmuring in a low voice all the while. The words didn't really register with Spencer. They were meaningless to him. It was the tone and the emotion that reached him. He responded to that, just as he always had, knowing that he could trust Remy with everything that he had.

He found himself brought up to his feet and somehow taken down the hall. Then he was being sat down on something soft. Spencer felt the hands move, felt them go to his feet and pull off his shoes. In easy, smooth movements, Remy stripped him down to his boxers and undershirt. Spencer tried to help, to do something, but the shakes were making it so hard to do anything. A small, distressed sound slipped free. Dammit, he should be able to do something!

Remy made a soft shushing sound. "Shh now, cher. I got y'. Don't y' worry about it. I'm here and I got y'. Just let me take care of y' f' a bit."

"I can't stop shaking." Spencer didn't realize at first that the words had actually been spoken out loud. He looked down at his shaking hands while Remy drew him back and laid him down in the center of the bed. Holding his hand out in front of his face, he watched it tremble. "I can't make it stop. Why am I shaking so badly?"

Remy stretched out in front of him. Surprisingly, the man was stripped down as well, only in his boxers and a plain t-shirt. When had he done that? Remy drew the blankets up over them and then reached out, curling his hand over Spencer's. "It's de pain, Spencer. Quit holding in de pain. Y' gotta let it out. Let y'rself grieve f' y'r friend. Let y'rself feel." Strong arms gathered Spencer up once more, bringing him in against Remy's chest, cradling him close in this little cocoon that Remy had created for them. Here in the middle of his bed where everything felt warm and safe. He was wrapped up in Remy's arms, his emotions, with the blankets piled over them and no one else around. Remy kissed the top of Spencer's head and rubbed a soothing hand over his back. "I've got y', Spencer and I'm not going anywhere. Y'r safe here. Let y'rself grieve f' her."

There was no real choice in the matter. The pain was pushing at him whether he was ready for it or not. Spencer buried his face against Remy's chest. His hands curled into fists, clenching at the shirt in front of him. "I can't…" He shuddered, feeling the grief push at him. "My shields."

"I'll shelter y'." Remy whispered into his hair. "Just let it go, Spencer. Let it go."

What else could he do? Spencer couldn't hold out against it any longer. Protected and sheltered in one of the few places he ever felt truly safe, he let go, knowing that Remy's shields and his arms would be there to catch him. The grief ran through his body like a tidal wave, knocking down his defenses, breaking through any shield that he had. It flooded and filled him. He didn't notice when the tears started to pour from his eyes. The tremors grew again, until his whole body was shaking with the force of them. "It hurts." He gaped out. It hurt so damn much!

Remy's hands never stopped their soothing strokes. "I know it does. Losing someone always hurts."

"It's not fair, Remy." A sob broke free, raw and aching. "Why does everyone have to leave? Why? " Another sob, and his voice went so much lower, practically throbbing with his pain. "Why do they never say goodbye?"

"Oh, cher." The arms around Spencer tightened. There was nothing Remy could say to that. Nothing that would really matter at the moment anyways. He knew that words would be pointless to Spencer in that moment. All he could do was hold him as the storm raged through the young man. He held tight and kept Spencer shielded and grounded while the pain ripped him apart and the grief raged. He held him through the tears, through the whispered words as Spencer told him about the day, through the gasping sobs as Spencer spoke of how they'd found her and those endless hours at the hospital.

He held him through every second of it. And when it all burned out, when Spencer was left exhausted and slightly hollow, he was still there holding him, wiping his face with a linen handkerchief, whispering nonsensical words to him as he stroked and soothed and gently eased Spencer down towards the sleep that he needed. Spencer drifted off in those arms, knowing that they would be there ofr him all through the night and that they'd still be there in the morning, just as his friend always had been. No matter what else was going on in his life, no matter what loss he suffered, Spencer knew he would always be able to count on Remy. He refused to let himself think of what would happen when, one day, his best friend was no longer there. When the day came that Remy was taken from him, just as everyone else had been, he had no idea how he would survive it. For now, he wouldn't think of that. He'd take the comfort that was offered and hold it close to his heart. Because, if there was one thing he was reminded of today, it was that you never know how long you have left in life.

"Life is fragile. We're not guaranteed a tomorrow so give it everything you've got."

Tim Cook