[october 15]

[notaretriever]

There's a mailbox that doesn't go anywhere.

Maybe that's unfair, because the note on the side of the mailbox says it's meant to sent letters to somewhere else, whatever that means, and Luke reads it over three times the first time he really stops to look at it, then heads home to mull it over.

It's another week before he goes again, this time with a folded over note tucked in between the pages of a notebook, a pen and an envelope in another pocket. The first note was written by him a long time ago, his jagged, scrawling handwriting lettering out a love poem for Spencer Reid, one of the many he'd found in books and sent to the man who would eventually become his husband in lieu of truly admitting to his feelings.

It had all worked out in the end, Spencer had been the brave one, he'd come to Luke with the poems and admitted to wishing they were all from him and from there everything else had simply fallen into place. Those letters are all in the apartment now, but they shouldn't be. They're not Luke's, they belong to Reid, and so he's brought the first of them with him today.

The note he writes isn't verbose, he doesn't think he needs to be. Reid always knew what he was feeling or thinking, sometimes before he even had any sort of idea of it himself. But he sits on a nearby bench and writes carefully and concisely, because if there's some way for this to actually reach his husband, he wants him to know he's still so loved and that everything is going to be okay.

Spencer,

I won't pretend I don't miss you or that it doesn't hurt, but you know everything about me and you can trust me to be okay. I will never stop loving you and I will never love anyone the way I love you. Never doubt that. Hold onto that, because I always will.

Love, Luke

And then, just inside the folds of this note, he tucks the verse he'd written all that time ago.

and suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be
yet it is only love
which sets us free

Then he seals both pieces of paper inside the envelope, addresses it to Spencer Reid, and slips it into the mailbox. He's still standing there a few minutes later when he realizes he recognizes the man coming toward him in the park and he smiles and lifts his hand to wave to Lyall.

Comments

[consummate_beta]

Lyall smiles; it's a bit of a wistful one, partly because of the sadness of sending a token to someone who might not receive it, and partly because he's been in that position before. Not with Biffy: thankfully, their positions in the pack and the trajectory of idle attraction, to packmate bond, to physical affection and then to relationship had skipped right over the breathless unrequited stage. It's more often these days that the depth of his emotion catches him off guard.

But he's very old.

And he smiles because it's a bit lovely, too, and he says as much. "I hope he does. It's lucky you have a taste for the arts," he adds more lightly, eyes crinkling at the corner. "I think if I had sent a beau a particularly beautiful excerpt on physics, they might not understand."

[notaretriever]

Luke laughs a little at that, his voice soft and he says, "I don't know, I think there's always something a little poetic in physics, too, isn't there? Spencer certainly would have thought so."

It's true Luke knows less about physics than he does poetry, but he loves books and learning well enough that he's done his best to pick up a little bit of everything during his time living among mundanes. Reid was the real genius, though, the one who knew more than just a little bit about nearly everything and his ability to talk on any topic had been one of the many things Luke loves so much about him.

"I could probably send him an entire essay on just about anything and he would find it romantic," he says. "Just because I was sending him something I thought he might like to read."

[consummate_beta]

Lyall smiles a little at the sentiment and hums thoughtfully. "I do think there is, now that you mention it. Gravitational pulls, the movements of things we can't understand, the way that all of us are composed of the same things as the earth and the air."

"I wish I'd had the opportunity to meet him," he says, quietly, smiling at the idea of such a little thing being found romantic. He thinks, perhaps, that Biffy would appreciate being thought of in the same way, though rather than reading material he tends to show his affection in removing worry: waking earlier to put the tea on, feeding the cat, checking that the house is solid for the fall rains, having groceries ordered and put away. And in little indulgences he wouldn't choose for himself, available and thought of.

Perhaps he should share some reading material with Biffy. Or music. Biffy would like music.

"He sounds like a very good man, your Spencer. It's not often two people meet who fit so well." It's a hard sentiment, right now. But Lyall knows too well that nothing he says will better or particularly worsen that gap in Luke's life. It's there, already, present whether he calls attention to it or not.

[notaretriever]

Luke wishes more people had been able to meet Reid, had been able to appreciate the man he is and the talents he has to share with the world. There is so much good he had done in Darrow with so much more yet to do and now he's just gone. It's not only Luke's life that's been left poorer for that loss, but the entire city, even if they don't know it.

"I wish you could have, too," he says. "Spencer tended to worry people didn't like him or they found him annoying. He's very smart, the sort that few people I've ever known could even hope to match, and he remembers everything he's ever learned. The capacity he has for knowledge is just incredible, but it made him worry that people thought he was being a know-it-all or that they found him boring when he would just pick a subject and tell you every last detail you might ever hope to know."

But Luke had loved it. Listening to Reid talk about any subject in the world had been one of his favourite things. He had learned so much in their time together and it had never felt like he was being lectured, but like he was listening to someone share something they loved. Learning from Reid had been one of the many amazing things about their life together and now all Luke can do is hope what he learns on his own can pay even a fraction of respect to what Reid had given him.