The question takes Spencer off-guard, and he leans back in his chair, shoulders hunched.
His instinct has always been to be intensely private -- or, more likely, he just formed that instinct as a twelve year old who couldn't tell anybody his home situation or else he'd risk getting put in the foster system. Even with his team, the people he'd viewed as family, he'd still only shared things when he'd absolutely needed to.
The fall of society certainly hasn't helped. He'd made the mistake of sharing what PhD's he had to a stranger, once, and he'd very nearly gotten kidnapped as a valuable resource.
Still. He's done with the questions, and fair's fair. He should answer some of Daryl's questions in return. And he gets the sense that he can trust Daryl.
"My team, the BAU," he admits, picking compulsively at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt sleeve. "When society started to collapse, the FBI sent its personnel all over the country to try to control the situation. We were all split up to serve as diplomats and psychological experts. I haven't seen any of them since."
He doesn't even know if any of them are still alive. He has faith that they are, but even the toughest of them couldn't survive a strong walker onslaught, or even worse, humans gone rogue in roving bands of slavers or cannibals. But he's been looking tirelessly for them, because he has to believe.
"I guess we've all got people from our lives before that we miss," Spencer finishes, with a rueful little smile. "Do you?"
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His instinct has always been to be intensely private -- or, more likely, he just formed that instinct as a twelve year old who couldn't tell anybody his home situation or else he'd risk getting put in the foster system. Even with his team, the people he'd viewed as family, he'd still only shared things when he'd absolutely needed to.
The fall of society certainly hasn't helped. He'd made the mistake of sharing what PhD's he had to a stranger, once, and he'd very nearly gotten kidnapped as a valuable resource.
Still. He's done with the questions, and fair's fair. He should answer some of Daryl's questions in return. And he gets the sense that he can trust Daryl.
"My team, the BAU," he admits, picking compulsively at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt sleeve. "When society started to collapse, the FBI sent its personnel all over the country to try to control the situation. We were all split up to serve as diplomats and psychological experts. I haven't seen any of them since."
He doesn't even know if any of them are still alive. He has faith that they are, but even the toughest of them couldn't survive a strong walker onslaught, or even worse, humans gone rogue in roving bands of slavers or cannibals. But he's been looking tirelessly for them, because he has to believe.
"I guess we've all got people from our lives before that we miss," Spencer finishes, with a rueful little smile. "Do you?"