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Penelope Garcia had never outright called herself a member of the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Sure, she did all their tech work, like compiling lists and making cross-references and the like. She had a great rapport with the team, giving each of them pet names and joking with them almost every time she spoke with them. However, she often described herself as a “professional nerd” or “tech girl”, and that was exactly how she saw herself. She couldn’t bear the thought of getting into her friends’ world, trying to pick people’s brains and find how people were vulnerable to monsters lurking just beyond the shadows. All of their work was face-to-face; they interviewed victims and relatives of victims and even killers themselves. She had the advantage of having distance between herself and the infinite amount of awful images that flashed across her screens every day. They were only pictures; she rarely saw a dead body in person. Even when she did, she was often too scared and turned away from it. All the members of her team at one point or another had mentioned that they valued her innocence, her naivete, her optimism, her spunk, and her ability to see the good in everything in spite of all the gruesome things they saw on a daily basis.
So, when Penelope was targeted by a group of dangerous hitmen, her team sprung into action, digging for any and all clues and leads until they were completely exhausted. She’d found Morgan asleep at the roundtable on a couple of occasions, with files and notebooks strewn about in what she could only describe as a paper tornado. She’d knocked on Hotch’s office door in the middle of the night after digging up some more things on the unsubs, only to find him half-asleep on the couch in his office and having a quiet conversation with his son, Jack, over the phone. On particularly sleepless nights, she found herself wandering the bullpen area, and noticed on more than one occasion that Reid seemed to be speed-reading through case files like a madman, despite being awake for more than 48 hours prior and definitely being preoccupied by something else. JJ constantly sent her texts of encouragement and came to visit her often with her favorite snacks and lots of hugs and pictures of the boys to spare. Rossi always checked in with her when he got into work (which was super early, in her opinion) and when he went home for the night (which was much later than she would have liked, but he never failed to respond to her admonishments with “Kiddo, I’ll sleep when I know you’re safe.”) Even Tara Lewis, bless her newbie little heart, did everything she could to contribute despite being pulled in five different directions between her two jobs. Needless to say, Garcia was touched by the love that her team showed her during that dark time in her life.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, the team caught a break in the case. They’d discovered there were five hitmen in the same network, including the recently deceased Gisuppe Montollo, whose expertise was making kills look accidental. They had also discovered one person linking the network together; a teenage hacker nicknamed “the Snowman”. After rescuing him and gaining access to his files, the began zeroing in on the hitman who would be the most likely to come out of the shadows. Garcia could not remember her name, but her handle was easy to remember: Miss .45. The very thought of the name made her shiver, and the fact that she noticed Reid sitting at his desk, pouring over case files at 2 in the morning did not bode well for him.
Penelope tip-toed up behind Spencer, who seemed too engrossed in reading to notice her approach, “Find something good, wonder boy?”
“I wouldn’t call it good,” Spencer muttered in reply, placing the file to his left and opening one on the far right side of his desk, “But… I think I might’ve found a connection. And I know exactly how to work the angle.”
“I’m guessing we’re going to be using me as bait?” she asked with a wince.
His head shot up, and he looked at her with furrowed eyebrows and a scrunched nose, “What? No! You’re already in enough danger. Besides, she only kills men, and last time I checked, you’re not a man.”
“Do not tell me you’re thinking about using yourself as bait!” Penelope protested, propping a fist on her hip as images of Reid being tortured flashed through her mind, “I won’t let you-”
“Garcia, please,” Spencer insisted, abandoning his files to take one of her hands in each of his own, “Please, don’t argue with me about this. I want to help you.”
have to be able to do something to help her since I can’t help my mom.
The woman’s stern and angry expression faltered and she sighed, squeezing both of the man’s hands and grumbling, “Seriously, why can I never be mad at any of you for more than five seconds?”
“Because you love us?” the man supplied with a wry grin and a shrug.
Garcia laughed and gave Reid’s shoulder a shove while grinning, “Go home and sleep, boy genius. The files will be here in the morning, ya know.”
The man glanced over his shoulder at the files opened all across his desk. He knew the woman was right; his work would be there if he went home and slept. If he was being honest with himself, though, he knew that he would just toss and turn if he tried to lay down in bed. His mother’s dementia weighed heavy on his mind, and it was likely that he would spend all night looking for clinical trials and research on new treatments rather than actually sleeping. Of course, his coworkers knew nothing about it, and, if he had his way, they would continue to be blissfully ignorant until everyone was safe again. He couldn’t bear to lose any more of his family; he just couldn’t.
“I’ll be fine,” he replied, patting the back of one of her hands, “Why don’t you go get some sleep? You’re the one being chased by a hit squad.”
“Yeah, but I know my fine furry friends are on the case and will protect me,” she countered with a cheery smile, pulling her hands away and heading back toward her office before adding, “And ninety-nine percent of the time, you guys get the bad guys.”
“It’s actually more like 93-” Reid started before Garcia lobbed a pillow from Hotch’s office in his direction.
“Go home and sleep, Reid,” Garica chided loudly, watching with a small smile as the man packed up his belongings, closed the case files, and flicked off the lamp as his desk, plunging the bullpen into darkness.
-----
Spencer breathed a sigh of relief he did not even realize he had been holding until he saw the police van drive away. He felt Derek clap him on the shoulder and he glanced over at his friend with a weak smile, as if to say ‘I’m fine, really. I’m okay.’ He heard several others calling his name and turned slightly to see JJ, Rossi, and Tara coming in his direction. JJ was the first to make contact, wrapping him in a tight embrace. He patted her back lightly as if to reassure her that he was alive and well without actually hugging her because, even when it was someone he cared about, he still was not wild about hugs.
“Spence, thank God you’re okay,” she breathed, clearly looking relieved.
“Thank God, you’re okay,” he parroted, his eyebrows furrowing, “You and Rossi were near armed bombs.”
“Listen, kiddo, both JJ and I been nearly blown to bits by a bomb or bomb-like objects before,” Rossi commented, reaching over to affectionately tousle Reid’s hair, “We would have been fine. You, on the other hand, had a .45 to your head. That can be pretty terrifying.”
“Just another day at the BAU,” joked Derek from Spencer’s right side.
“I’m glad you’re safe, Spencer,” Tara commented from Rossi’s side, poking her head around to flash a small, genuine smile at Spencer.
“Thanks, Tara. You kicked major ass with the bomber,” he complimented.
She chuckled in response, “Just doin’ my job. Not too bad for the newest member of the team, huh?”
Derek clapped Spencer across the back, “Alright, guys. I just got a text from Garcia. Looks like the celebration’s at my place if any of you want in.”
“Unfortunately, I have to pass on this one,” Tara replied first, “I’m up early to do another interview.”
“What about you, Rossi?” Morgan asked, “You in?”
“Sorry, but, I’ve got a date with a special someone tonight,” Rossi replied, causing Tara and JJ to chuckle.
“JJ?” Morgan asked, glancing over at the blonde woman.
“As much as I’d love to spend time with the guys tonight, I have a date of my own,” she replied with a small smirk and a clarification, “A movie night with the boys.”
“Looks like it’s just you, me, and Garcia then,” Morgan said to Reid, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, “Let’s go, pretty boy. See you guys tomorrow.”
“I never agreed to come,” Reid pointed out as they left the group after saying their goodbyes, “You know I don’t drink, Morgan.”
“I know,” Morgan replied, patting Reid’s upper arm, “You just look like you need to unwind a bit. Are you good? I know we haven’t been able to talk much since you got back.”
“I’m fine,” Spencer replied rather quickly, hopping into the passenger side of the SUV.
“Hey kid,” Derek said seriously, pulling his sunglasses off his head and putting them in the console after climbing into the driver’s seat, “You know you can tell me anything, right? Anything at all.”
“I know, Morgan,” the brown-haired man replied with a grateful grimace, “Thanks.”
“For what?” the dark-haired man asked, raising an eyebrow.
“For caring,” the young FBI agent replied, buckling his seatbelt.
The older agent let one hand linger on the younger agent’s knee, “Whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’ll be here.”
Spencer nodded silently, laying his head back against the seat and allowing himself to nod off a bit while Derek drove back to the house he shared with Savannah. Visions of him and his mother playing together danced behind his eyelids and a melancholy smile crept across his face while he slept, though he did not know it.
Tomorrow, he would start aggressively searching for a way to help his mother. But for that moment, he would allow himself to bask in the closeness and love of his found family.