Archive of Our Own

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• Spaghetti hoops

• Bread

• Peanut butter

• Instant noodles

• Rice

• Dried beans 

• Superglue 

• Bleach

These were the only items on the last ever grocery list he’d made for both him and his mom before he’d moved to college. The first six were their meals for the week, the superglue was to mend his last good pair of shoes by reattaching the soles and the bleach was to attempt once more to scrub away the persistent black mold in his bathroom. 

He’d not really grown very much until he went through puberty at 15, but still most of his clothes were too small for his lanky frame. His jeans were perpetually shredded at the hem and most of his t-shirts were faded. Other kids his age would come to school in early January and share their spoils from the break, and he’d duck his head down and try to avoid their snickers over his shabbiness. 

College was easier, in the sense that he was fully funded so he worried less about how he was going to eat. It took him a while to get used to the array of food on offer to him. For the first two weeks there all he ate was dinner rolls and cereal, all the other food rich and intimidating. 

By the time he’d met Ethan at Caltech, he’d been living independently for almost four years. Sure, he’d had people looking out for him. He’d been required to be signed back into the dorms by 10pm until he was 15, and then it was pushed back to midnight. He’d had supervisors and buddies and the dean had always looked out for him, but he was in charge of his own life. 

Ethan made the loneliness dim a little, made him feel less like he was going through life alone. But it wasn’t like Ethan was in any position to support him, he was also just a college student with his own problems. 

By the time he joined the BAU, it had been over 10 years since he’d received a present of any kind. 

“You will be paid by cheque on the last working day of each month,” Gideon explained as he walked Spencer to his desk. Spencer nodded quickly, pink tinging his cheeks and he hoped it wasn’t obvious that he was desperate for the money. 

His first cheque, at the end of October, had gone towards paying off debt to Bennington and to buying himself a couch rather than using the metal folding chair placed depressingly in the middle of his new, sparse living room.

But his second cheque, delivered on the 29th of November, went towards something else. 

---

Tuesday, 3rd December, 2002

“Welcome to Walmart,” The middle-aged, greying woman smiled jovially at him under a fluffy santa hat, brandishing a blue plastic shopping basket, “Basket or cart?”

“Er,” He stammered, awkwardly, wiping his palms subtly on his thighs, “Cart, I guess?”

Food. That was his main goal, today. It was only a few weeks ago he’d finally had a breakthrough on actually feeling a part of the team. They were actually listening to his ideas now, appreciating his knowledge. He was finally useful. 

They had just finished a week long case in Arkansas, and been living off vending machine food and take out. JJ had mentioned her desire for ‘real food’ on the way home, and he’d felt a silent kick of longing and desire. 

So, he’d made the decision to head to an actual store to get groceries with absolutely no budget restraints for the first time in his life. 

“Here, you are, sweetheart,” She pulled the cart over to him, and he smiled awkwardly in thanks, pushing it forward further into the store. 

He instantly regretted it. The fluorescent lights made him squint awkwardly and the Christmas music that poured out the speakers made him wince to himself. There was an onslaught of noise from a nearby Christmas tree, which was covered from top to bottom in large white and red tags. Two women were ringing bells and shaking buckets full of spare change. One flick of his eyes over the sign that one was holding allowed him to read what they were advertising. 

‘The Angel Programme - sponsor an Angel’s Christmas this year by taking a tag and donating gifts to a child in need. All gifts must be returned to the store by December the 22nd with tags attached. Happy shopping and Merry Christmas!’

He backed away quickly. He wasn’t good at gift giving. Or with kids. The whole area was loud and boisterous, with each person passing picking through the tags excitedly and clanging coins into the buckets. He chewed the inside of his lip, skin crawling, palms sweating around the handle of his shopping cart. 

He was just making the decision to turn back around and leave the store, and to order a pizza for his dinner, when he felt his foot slide dangerously across the linoleum due to a small scrap of paper there. It was dirty, printed with various different foot marks, and crumpled at the corners. Picking it up gingerly, he smoothed the card out and turned it over. 

‘Boy - 10 years old. Would like: cars, superheroes and warm clothes for winter. Size: Youth Large, shoe size: 5.’

He blinked at it for a moment, uneasy, and then glanced back up to the women by the tree. Could he give it back to them so they could put it on the tree? What if no one picked it, because it was dirty and crumpled? He couldn’t leave it on the floor, because then the child wouldn’t get their Christmas presents. 

He remembered after his dad left, the occasions of his mom forgetting or not realizing what day it was increased, and he slowly stopped receiving gifts. Even if his mom did remember, they often didn’t have enough money for frivolities such as presents. 

“Excuse me,” A man muttered gruffly, pushing past him. He jumped and stepped back to move out the way, realizing that he’d been standing in the middle of the store aimlessly. 

Fingering the torn ribbon where it had detached from the tree, he slowly came to a decision. Tentatively, he placed the tag gently in the cart and began pushing it towards the clothing section.

He hung awkwardly just before the kids section for a couple of minutes, swallowing dryly and scratching the back of his hand in discomfort. He had never really understood kids, even as a child. His brain had never really worked at a level that he’d felt other kids could engage with, and he’d not been around kids (or shopped for kids clothes) since he himself was a child. 

“You alright, sugar?” A plump woman with kind eyes smiled at him as she folded a stack of t-shirts. 

“Er, I-I, I was just-” He swallowed, sure he was bright red, “I don’t, um, really know-”

“That’s okay,” She nodded, setting a t-shirt down, “If you’re looking for basics, you probably want some jeans, some shirts, a couple of sweaters, maybe a coat? Include some underwear and socks. If you can stretch to it, a pair of sneakers? My boy, he’s seven, he likes anything with sharks.”

Spencer nodded along, thankful for at least some direction. He hedged towards the stacks of jeans, all small and folded neatly on the display tables. The boy he was shopping for was 10, so slightly older, but he figured it was similar enough. 

3 pairs of jeans. He rifled through the shirts, selecting 5 in a variety of colours and patterns. He also selected some plain tees. He picked out two hoodies, one in a navy and another in a deep maroon colour. He debated over some flannel button up shirts, not wanting his own biases to encroach into his shopping, before deciding that he could layer them or wear them as smarter clothes if needed. 

Looking at the collection of items already in the cart, he felt a little more confident, his throat working a little easier and palms less slick against the plastic of the cart. 

It was easier, shopping, when it was for someone else. He thought less about if it was a necessary purchase, as the desire to give the anonymous child a nice Christmas outweighed the consideration. 

He picked out a thick, sturdy winter coat with a hood that was waterproof and lined with fleece. It was a simple black, and would go with most things. Two sets of pajamas went in, both printed with superheroes. Blue and white sneakers went at the end, and a pair of thicker boots. 

And, remembering the direction of the lady, he grabbed a large multipack of underwear and socks and tossed them in too. 

“I’d recommend getting some toiletries,” A man with short cropped hair rumbled next to him at the end of the aisle he was standing at, and Spencer looked up from the tag in surprise, “Whatever you can afford. Y’can never have too much toothpaste.”

He blinked again, stupidly, before nodding and pulling his cart down the aisle with the toiletries in it. 

2 tubes of toothpaste, and a multipack of toothbrushes, dental floss and some mouthwash. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash and 2 bars of soap. A comb and a couple of washcloths. 

He hesitated by the deodorant. Did 10-year-olds use deodorant yet? Puberty usually occurred at any age between 9 and 14, but the average age was 12. He himself hadn’t until he was 15. Just to be safe, he grabbed two sticks. Even if he was a little young, he’d need it soon.

The cart was getting fuller, and it made him feel strangely satisfied. All the things in the cart were things that he would have really benefited from as a 10-year-old. Hopefully this boy appreciated them too. 

“Excuse me, where is the toy aisle?” He asked quietly to a nearby worker in a standard blue vest, cheeks once again tinging pink with embarrassment. 

“Twenty-three,” He pointed to the other end of the store, offering a tired, false smile. 

Spencer thanked him quietly and set off, trying to let the confidence from his earlier selections fill him in the wake of his apprehension of getting toys. He’d never really used toys as a child,  and had never been around other kids of his age enough to know what they played with. Discomfort crawled under his skin at the sight of the garish plastic and bold letters, but he swallowed it back. 

Superheroes, and cars. He selected a variety of action figures, figuring that it was a good starting point. After, he pulled one larger car towards him and a handful of smaller cars in small plastic boxes. He added a box of race track pieces, which could fit the cars on. 

Gazing on the Legos, he chewed his lip nervously. He’d always wanted Lego as a child, but had never been able to get it. He picked up a set for a race car, and a matching one for himself. 

His cart was almost overflowing now, but he still stopped by the groceries and picked up some chicken, pasta and sauce for a simple dinner. And he added garlic bread. And with one look at the cookies, he picked up a box of them too. 

Getting through the till took a while, but eventually his cart was full of plastic bags. 

“I didn’t know you were supposed to wrap the gifts,” He frowned at all of the belongings in the arrangement of plastic carrier bags (bar the coat, which was too thick to fold into a bag and so was resting on the coat hanger still). 

Some of the presents behind the desk were wrapped in paper, with bows and ribbon. 

“We put everything that can go in, in donated gift bags,” The lady behind the counter explained, smiling warmly, “We encourage gift wrapping, but it’s not required.”

“I’ll do it next time,” He said, before he could stop himself. 

Next time? Where did that come from?

“Thank you for donating, and Merry Christmas!” She handed over his receipt, and he gave a wonky smile, shifting his bag of groceries in one arm and the box of Legos in the other. 

The subway was crowded on the way home. He’d spent so long in Walmart it was now rush hour. But when he got back to his apartment, he turned the thermostat up with a small kick of satisfaction that he didn’t have to worry about the gas bill, and began cooking his dinner. 

The food wasn’t anything special but it was filling and warm, and the garlic bread was entirely nutritionally unnecessary but it tasted really nice with the cheesy alfredo sauce. 

He sat down with a mug of peppermint tea and the box of cookies as he shook out the Legos from the box, the warm lamps in his living room casting a soft glow around the otherwise dark room, and his old radio spilling out soft voices to fill the silence. 

---

Sunday, 7th December, 2003

The next year he was better prepared. He went later at night, when the store was practically dead and the music had been dimmed. The workers that volunteered for the Angel Programme had long gone home by that point, so he could take his time without feeling the heat of their gaze. 

He selected one at random. 

‘Girl - 6 years old. Would like: dolls, unicorns, a new dress. Size: 5T, shoe size: 11’

And he set off. He got a lot of the same items as the year before. Clothes that consisted of plain tees, jeans, a few pairs of leggings, some sweaters, a cardigan, a pair of boots and a pink waterproof coat that had white stars all over it and a fluffy white hood. Multipacks of underwear, and a couple of pairs of pajamas. Since it had said she wanted a new dress, he took some time thumbing between them on the racks. 

There was a red dress with a white collar and a black belt that came with tights and a headband, so he put that in. There was also a white dress that had a silver tutu, a sparkly unicorn on the front. Since that one didn’t come with tights, he picked a pack of two pairs of white woolen tights. And since he’d only got the one pair of shoes, he selected a pair of black patent shoes that had buckles on them. 

All the toiletries were the same as the year before (bar the deodorant), but he added a hairbrush and some hair ties (and a pink sparkly headband that he thought matched the white dress). 

Once again, he frowned at the toys. She hadn’t specified what kind of dolls she wanted. To be safe, he got a baby doll that came with bottles, and two barbies, one of which came with a toy horse with wings, described as a unicorn.

“That’s a pegasus,” He pursed his lips at the box, annoyed, but he added it anyway seeing as a 6-year-old probably didn’t care as much as he did. 

Although she’d not described wanting Legos, a box for a unicorn was flashing with the sticker ‘ half off! ’ so he picked up two. He’d enjoyed doing the one from last year. 

This year, he selected two rolls of white and red striped paper and some scotch tape and stood them at the end of his cart. Because he’d only got back from Delaware three hours ago and hadn’t eaten yet, he picked up some chicken, rice and broccoli. He also placed a family-pack of hershey’s kisses in. 

In the past year, he’d bought a car. He very rarely used it, but it came in useful for things like today, so he could take home the collection of items instead of battling with a collection of grocery bags on the train. 

After he’d eaten, and washed up, leaving the pots on the rack to dry, he sat on the floor in front of the coffee table (also a new purchase). The selection of hershey’s kisses he’d tipped into a bowl dwindled as he wrapped the gifts with nimble fingers, smoothing tape down and setting them all to one side so he could drive them back to the store the following day. 

He fell asleep with his head turned onto the couch, the last present sat atop the coffee table in pristine condition and a completed Lego unicorn perched next to it.

---

Monday, 13th December, 2004

He selected two the following year. 

‘ Boy - 14 years old. Would like: food, a new coat. Size: S, shoe size: 8.’

and;

‘Boy - 4 years old. Would like: dinosaurs. Size: 4T, shoe size: 2.’

Shopping was easier this year. He selected all the same things he had in the previous two years, but slightly more personalized to what a 14-year-old and a 4-year-old would wear and like. 

He was even more financially secure this year, with a hefty chunk now in his savings and more personal luxuries than ever before. He’d bought new sheets last week simply for the reason that his old ones were getting a little old, having bought them when he’d first moved into his apartment. 

Seeing as he was getting used to new things, he figured he could buy for two kids this year.

For the older boy he added all the usual clothes (including a thick black winter coat) and toiletries, and then selected a section of long-lasting food with a good amount of variety. The one thing he hated more than anything was having to eat the same thing on end because he couldn’t afford anything else. Tins of soup, beans, dried pasta and rice, crackers, cereal, breakfast bars, oats, peanut butter, sugar and flour, long-lasting milk, tinned fruit and vegetables, vegetable oil and various jars of sauces all went in too. He added enough that it would at least last until the end of January, but it depended on how many people this was for. 

He also added a variety of candy and chocolate, just for fun. Most kids spent Christmas day gorging on candy anyway, this kid could do the same. 

The 4-year-old received a couple of packs of dinosaurs, as well as a stuffed t-rex and dinosaur board game that Spencer had never seen but looked fun for kids. He also, with a lot of bias, picked out some fact books on dinosaurs. 

And, as always, both children received a set of Legos. One set was a police car, and another a stegosaurus. He himself matched the 4-year-old and bought a second dinosaur set. 

Dinner that year consisted of thick, tangy tomato soup with grilled cheese which he ate at his dinner table, before settling on the couch to wrap his presents whilst watching star trek on his (new) tv that was tucked into the piles of books on his shelf. 

The next day, when he returned the gifts wrapped with ribbons and bows, he spotted a cart by the front of the store that read: ‘please consider donating some non-perishable food to your local food bank this Christmas!’

Spencer turned back inside the store, and spent another $200. 

---

Monday 19th December, 2005

“Hey Spence!” Spencer looked up at the sight of his name, although his hands didn’t cease buckling the straps of his satchel. 

JJ and Penelope were walking over, with identical wide smiles. Penelope had a headband on that had a glittery santa hat attached to it, and JJ had earrings that were in the shape of snowflakes. 

“Hey, guys, are you heading home?” 

“We’re here to convince you to come to the movies with us. Garcia wants to see the chronicles of narnia.”

“Christmas for us, and old literature for you,” Penelope exclaimed, eyes shining happily, “Perfect mix!”

“Sorry, I already have plans,” Spencer replied, apologetically, pulling the straps of his bag tight before pulling his coat off his desk chair and shrugging it on.

His plans consisted of going to Walmart and shopping for presents, but they didn’t need to know that. He did actually want to go to the movies, but if he didn’t buy the gifts to donate today then he wouldn’t be able to get them before the deadline to give them back.

“You do?” Derek asked from his desk chair, leaning back and arching an eyebrow. Spencer tried not to prickle at the disbelief in his voice, pursing his lips. 

“Yes-”

“Wait, let me guess-” Derek grinned, “Star Wars movie marathon?”

“Chess tournament?” JJ guessed, smiling. 

“Solving string theory?” Penelope chimed in with a gleeful lilt to her tone, and Spencer couldn’t help but let his lips curl into a fond smile. 

“A hot date?” Elle sounded coy, and his heart stuttered in his chest. 

He flicked his eyes over to her quickly, a little confused, but she was smirking and raising her mug to her lips with slightly raised eyebrows. He frowned inwardly, slinging his bag over his shoulder to hide his discomfort. 

Elle was different. She acted differently than the others. Sometimes he thought…

And sometimes he didn’t. There was an equal chance she was teasing him, and he just didn’t realize. But she stood closer to him than the others, and sometimes she looked at him the way Ethan used to look at him. 

“Christmas shopping,” He explained, going for a half truth since he was surrounded by profilers that could easily pick apart his lies. 

“That’s nice. Are you excited to see your family?” JJ asked, kindly. 

He tried not to let the sting show. It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know, he hadn’t told any of them, after all. 

“Sure,” He said lightly, not missing the way that all their eyebrows raised once more, but this time in surprise at his nonchalance, “See you later, guys.”

He smiled a little, raising his hand in a small wave before walking away. 

“Is it just me, or does he not seem very merry?” He heard Penelope murmur as he pushed the door open. He didn’t turn around, letting the door swing shut behind him.

Walmart was bright as usual, and the music was loud, but being so late it wasn’t busy and he navigated the aisles easily. He completed three tags. 

‘Girl - 16 years old. Would like: books, stationery for school. Size 5, shoe size 9.’

‘Girl - 3 years old. Would like: play doh, bath toys. Size 3T, shoe size 9.’

and;

‘Boy - 13 years old. Would like: a basketball, sneakers. Size S, shoe size 7.’

When he came into work the next day, slightly later after having dropped off the gifts that morning, he set down a tin of gingerbread cookies at the round table as they all gathered to run through their case. 

“Help yourself,” He offered, sitting down and pulling the file towards him. 

“Thanks, kid,” Derek sounded surprised, but took one anyway. 

They chewed as they discussed the case, and he didn’t come home until late on Christmas eve, by which time he’d missed his flight home to see his mom. So, instead, he completed his Lego set (a plane), and ordered Chinese food. 

It wasn’t very festive, but he was well fed and happy, and what more could he ask for?

---

Tuesday, 12th December, 2006

Walmart was always overwhelming. There was always a child crying somewhere, and there was a flickering overhead light on aisle 3 that had been that way for years. The music was always one setting too loud, and some of the workers had jingle bells on their hats that seemed to worm into his brain and burn his ears. 

But this year, he took one look at the store from the door and seriously debated going home again. He scratched the inside of his elbow, which was red raw already, and pushed back his greasy hair. 

You think a child would want presents from you? His inner voice chimed, and he flinched to himself. You’re pathetic. 

Swallowing dryly, he scrubbed at his eyes, but grabbed a cart anyway. 

He selected one tag. His stomach was already churning and his head hurt, and his foot was throbbing in his shoe. There was no way he’d get more than one tag done successfully. 

‘Girl - 9 years old. Would like: markers and coloring books. Size: Youth Medium, shoe size: 3’.

Mostly, he ran on autopilot. Jeans, t-shirts, sweatshirts, underwear, socks, a coat, two pairs of shoes and a nice dress with butterflies on it. Hairbrush and hair ties, toothbrush and toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, body wash, deodorant. A pack of 100 markers, some coloring pencils, three coloring books, a sketchbook, a sticker book and a Lego set of a panda. Some candy. 

He bought four large gift bags, and after he paid, he took all the prices off the gifts and put them in the bags before taking them up to the counter. 

“Thank you,” The woman took them with a cautious smile, and he couldn’t bring himself to smile back, because he was aware of how he looked. 

Lanky hair. Deep bags under his eyes. Skin white and clammy. Clothes rumpled. Jaw clenching from where he was gritting his teeth. His breaths were too fast to be natural, and he was walking with a slight limp because his foot was still healing from the whipping he’d taken only 12 days ago. 

He’d gone back to work today. One look at the victims on the board and he’d been retching in the nearby toilets, nails digging into his palms harshly. 

When he got home, he threw the Lego into a drawer and slammed it closed, instead pulling out the vial that he’d been staring at for the past week. He crouched down so he was eye level with it, heart thudding and tears dripping down his cheeks, chewing on his bottom lip. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was JJ. 

Did you want to come over for dinner? We’re having a pot roast x

He powered his phone off, shut the curtains, and grabbed the vial. 

---

Thursday, 6th December, 2007

“Bye, Spencer,” Nick- the man who was leading today’s beltway meeting, smiled warmly at him. 

Spencer gave a small, nervous smile in response, putting his hands into his pockets and exiting the building quickly. Nick had been trying to get him to stay after the meeting to chat to others more casually (apparently it was good for him to get involved in a less structured environment), but tonight he had places to be. 

Walmart was less intimidating this year. For a start, he wasn’t in active addiction. He also had headphones this year, which blocked out a lot of the noises that made it hard for him to focus. 

To make up for last year, he selected four random tags. 

‘ Boy - 17 years old. Would like: a new backpack, a hoodie. Size: M, shoe size: 11’,

‘Girl - 3 years old. Would like: baby doll. Size: 3T, shoe size: 10’,

‘Girl - 3-6 months. Would like: clothes, diapers, soft toys. Size: 3-6 months’

and;

‘Boy - 5 years old. Would like: action figures. Size: 5T, shoe size: 12’

He got to work with efficiency. Four tags meant he needed two carts, so he did two tags at a time. He collected all the pieces for the first two, paid, took them to his car, and came back into the store. 

Nerves swirled in his stomach as he took in the baby clothes in the clothing section. He’d not known anyone that had kids, never held a baby before, or was even aware of what they needed past what he’d been told or researched. 

Mostly, he stuck to soft, plain onesies and babygrows. Sunny yellows, pale pinks and blues with various woodland creatures on them. He selected a couple of outfits, one set of corduroy dungarees and a coat that he got in a size 6-9 months so that it would still fit her as she grew. 

Baby shampoo went in next, and talcum powder, as well as soft cloths. He debated over the formula for a moment, before deciding against it. Even if the baby did drink formula, he had no way of knowing which one. Soft toys were easy: a giraffe and a rabbit and a frog. He got two large packs of diapers, and all the essentials such as rash cream, wipes and bags. 

Babies couldn’t play with Legos, but there were some baby DUPLO sets. He got a farmyard set, with a cow, a pig, a horse, a chicken and a duck. He bought himself a second one, even though it was far easier than any of the previous sets he’d completed. 

He paused in the grocery section to try and rack his brain on what he wanted for dinner. He hadn’t eaten since they’d come back from a case that morning, where he’d swallowed a protein bar and a banana in between mouthfuls of piping hot coffee that wasn’t sweet enough. His attention was redirected by a mother and her two kids at the end of the aisle. 

“No- Sarah! You can’t have ice cream for dinner, now come on!”

“Why not?” The little girl- Sarah- demanded, pulling her hand out of her mother’s grasp and folding them over her chest defiantly. 

“Because it’s not good for you, you’re still growing-” Her mother explained, clearly trying to be patient but Spencer could tell her voice was strained. 

“When I’m grown I’m going to eat ice cream for dinner every night!” Sarah interrupted, crossly, cheeks rosy and a scowl on her face. Spencer found it slightly amusing and fairly endearing, but he knew her mother didn’t agree. 

“You do that,” Her mother huffed, “For now, we’re having meatloaf.”

Spencer smiled to himself. He’d never once as a child been able to have dessert, let alone something like ice cream for dinner. With his limited budget, he was never able to get something like ice cream, which wasn’t nutritional or filling enough to be worth the price. 

He pushed the cart towards the freezer section, and selected one pint of peanut butter brownie ice cream, a pint of cookies and cream, and a third pint of triple chocolate. 

Wrapping took him longer this year, as he was doing it for four kids. He managed one and a half pints of ice cream by the time he finished, the sugary sweet feeling of it and the naughtiness of absolutely no nutritional benefits was making him giddy in a way he usually wasn’t. 

He gave himself a stomach ache, and he had to brush his teeth twice to get the cloying feeling of sugar in his mouth gone, but it was worth it. 

---

Friday, 19th December, 2008

2008 brought him three tags. Three teenagers, all boys. He picked up a pizza and cheesy bread for his dinner, ate it whilst completing his wrapping, all with the radio on in the background. 

He was just finishing the second child’s wrapping (a 12-year-old who wanted a new board game) when his phone burst to life. 

Frowning at his hands which were still pinning the wrapping paper together, he quickly tore off some tape and sellotaped it down, jumping up to the phone and hoping the person didn’t hang up. 

“Hi, Hotch,” He answered after taking one look at the phone, stomach curling with knowing uneasiness. 

“Reid,” Hotch was curt, sounding slightly breathless, “There’s been a ritualistic killing in Boston. I need everyone to come in.”

Spencer was usually the least resistant when it came to coming in late at night or at the weekend, but he glanced nervously at the gifts. If he didn’t get them in by Tuesday then the deadline would be over. 

“But-” He cut himself off hastily, going bright red. 

“But?” Hotch repeated, tone unrecognisable, and even the one word had shame running through him. 

“I’ll be there in an hour,” He said instead, running a hand down his face. 

“Thanks, Reid. Bye.” 

Hotch hung up before Spencer could say anything else. Regretfully, he shrugged his coat on and grabbed his go-bag, locking his door with a sigh. 

The case was over in just over 2 days. 

“What’s your rush?” Rossi asked with raised eyebrows as he raced to shove all his things away, when they got back on Tuesday afternoon. 

“I’ve got plans,” He said offhandedly, slinging the bag over his shoulder and not bothering to explain any further as he sped walked away from all their confused faces. 

When he got home he wrapped the last of the presents as quickly as he possibly could, and because his car needed gas, he called a taxi. 

“Have I made it?” He asked desperately as he placed the bags of gifts on the counter. 

“You’re just in time,” The man behind the desk confirmed with a twinkle in his eye, “Thank you for donating.”

---

Monday, 14th December, 2009

His knee was aching, the cane unfamiliar in his hand after the crutches. He still wanted to do three tags this year, like usual, but he had been struggling to walk around for long periods. He'd completed two tags already so far in two trips, and he just had the last one today. 

‘Boy - 12 months. Would like: musical instruments. Size: 12-18 months, shoe size: 5’

Pushing the cart was hard with a cane, and part of him wished he’d asked JJ or Penelope to come with him to help. 

It had crossed his mind in the past, too, but he couldn’t shake the protective feeling he had of his small Christmas tradition. He worried his team wouldn’t understand why he did it, and if they questioned, he’d be forced to divulge his past responsibilities as a child. 

“You’re limping more than usual,” JJ acknowledged with a frown as they walked to the cafeteria, “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Just slept funny,” He brushed off easily, sitting down with a sigh and avoiding her watchful gaze. 

“Hmm, be more careful next time,” She said instead, sliding a sandwich across the table. 

He smiled to himself, and took a bite. 

---

Thursday, 16th December, 2010

It took him three tries to go into Walmart that year. His head seemed to pound in a way that had nausea rolling through him and pain sparking behind his eyes, vision swimming and skin clammy. 

The physical symptoms were nothing to the fear that coursed through him each time he stepped into a store and the lights caused him to flinch.

It’s not in your head. It’s not in your head. It’s not in your head. 

The fourth time, he wore sunglasses and avoided the strange looks he got from other people as he completed the first two tags he saw:

‘Girl - 15 years old. Would like: Books. Size: 6, shoe size: 9.’

and;

‘Boy - 9 years old. Would like: Pokemon. Size: Youth Medium, shoe size: 3.’

Books were easy for him to pick out, and he was thankful that it required very little thought. He added an array of classics on top of the usual clothes and toiletries, and also picked up a few modern books in the young adult section. He got a pokemon stuffed animal, a whole box of pokemon cards, and a toy with something called a ‘pokeball’ in it. 

The wrapping was easier. He could do it in the dark and quiet, just the soft ruffle of paper as he tended to them carefully. 

He dropped the gifts off and didn't eat, stomach rolling. He was so tired he didn’t do the Legos he had bought himself that year, letting it sit on the coffee table untouched. 

---

Saturday, 10th December, 2011

“Sorry!” He apologized over his shoulder to a man he’d almost bumped into as he darted across the street to the phone booth. 

He had just finished his yearly shop for the Angel Programme, and he was running slightly late when he’d left so he’d had to jog towards the phone booth. 

Sliding the coins into the machine and punching in the number quickly, he let the phone ring twice before hanging up, waiting patiently with his hands in his pockets. He didn’t have to wait long before the phone began ringing again, and he smiled reflexively as he picked up. 

“Hey,” He greeted, instantly smoothing some of his hair behind his ears even though she couldn’t see him. 

“Hi,” Maeve said back, her voice soft and familiar, “I was expecting your call at two.”

He checked his watch. 14:08.

“Sorry,” He apologized, slightly breathless, “I was shopping.”

“Shopping?” She repeated, and he could tell she was smiling, “You hate shopping.”

“I do, but it was Christmas shopping, so it was necessary.”

“Get anything good?” She questioned, the sounds of shuffling on the other end of the line making him wonder where in her apartment she was.

Did she call him whilst in the middle of work? He imagined her sitting at her desk with mugs of coffee and surrounded by papers. Or was she on the couch? With a throw wrapped around her shoulders and feet in slippers. 

“I-er,” He blushed slightly, chewing his bottom lip as he debated on whether or not to tell her. 

Telling Blake about Maeve had been nice, but no one else knew about Maeve yet. Morgan suspected, as did JJ and Garcia. He was 99.4% sure that they’d told the others, but he’d not confirmed. Blake had been convincing him to ask Maeve to meet in person, but he had been too nervous in their last three calls.

Maeve had been the part of his life that made him the happiest in the past few months. She was different to Ethan (the most obviously being female), but this was the first time he’d felt attraction this strong since he’d been dating Ethan in college. 

She was different to Elle, too, more attentive and less angry. She had never made him feel awkward, or different. 

“Have you heard of the Angel Tree Programme?” He asked, after a moment. 

“Donating gifts to kids, right?” Maeve replied, easily. 

“Yes, I buy a couple of tags a year and donate gifts,” He admitted, quietly, “Been doing it ever since I joined the BAU and could afford it.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly get any more brilliant,” She murmured back, and he felt his entire body flame with heat. 

“That’s not-” He swallowed the discomfort, “I just do what I wished I’d had growing up. I fill out the tags, buy dinner and I wrap them at home before doing the Legos.”

“Legos?”

“I buy each kid a box of Lego, and then I buy myself one to do as well,” He was sure his whole face was bright red, “This year it’s a bus.”

“That is possibly the cutest thing I have ever heard,” Maeve was smiling, he could tell. 

“Yeah, well,” He coughed slightly, “It’s just my tradition,” He shrugged, an odd mix of pride and embarrassment running through him. 

“Maybe next year I could join you,” She said, softly, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. 

He wanted to meet Maeve in person more than he wanted to join the BAU, when he’d first been offered. Being able to get to know each other over the phone was the best possible way for him to get to know someone. He could hide his nervousness easier, less worried about his clothes and his movements and facial expressions and eye contact. 

“I’d like that,” He responded, grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. 

Maybe years into the future, he and Maeve would also be shopping for kids that weren’t on tags. He batted that thought away quickly. It was far too early to consider that. 

“Tell me about your case in Minnesota,” She requested. 

And he did. 

---

Wednesday, 12th December, 2012

He had truly thought she’d be by his side, this time. 

He completes 6 tags. 3 for him, and 3 for her. 

---

Wednesday, 18th December, 2013

“We’re grabbing dinner, did you wanna come?” Penelope asked, “JJ and Derek have already said yes.”

“Sorry, Penelope,” He said regretfully, because he really liked the sound of sitting and having dinner with his friends, “I’m busy.”

“Yes, off for his yearly mysterious Christmas mission,” JJ acknowledged as she came over, sitting on his desk and blowing on the mug of coffee in her hands. 

He smiled to himself, but didn’t say anything. She raised an eyebrow, and he pretended not to notice as he shut his files and stowed them away. 

“What mysterious mission?” Derek asked, suspiciously, all too eager to be distracted from his work. 

“No one knows,” Penelope explained, eyes twinkling at him, “Spence goes off every year around Christmas and does something and won’t tell anyone what he’s doing.”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe that I have plans?” He asked, faux-annoyed. 

“Can you track his cell?” JJ questioned Penelope curiously, ignoring him. 

“No, absolutely not,” He huffed in protest before Penelope could confirm or deny, standing. 

All three of his friends grinned at him, and he rolled his eyes as he did the straps of his bag up and threw it over his shoulder. 

“You know that your defiance only makes me want to do it more?” Penelope smiled with all her teeth showing, and he couldn’t help but smile at her, laughing under his breath. 

“Well, I’m leaving my cell at home then,” He announced, pretty certain that she wouldn’t try anyway. 

Penelope was brilliant, and she could easily track him. But she also respected their privacy. His insistence on her to not track him meant she wouldn’t. 

“Off already, Reid?” Blake asked as she came over with a stack of files, smiling kindly at him, “Got anything fun planned?”

The others began giggling instantly, and he felt his cheeks flush reflexively. The older woman frowned confusedly at him, setting her belongings down on her desk and righting herself. 

“What?” She questioned. 

“Nothing,” He said quickly, smiling back with a shake of his head, “I’m sure the others will fill you in. Have a good evening, guys.”

He did leave his cellphone at home, despite his confidence that Penelope wouldn’t snoop, as he didn’t know how he’d explain his secretiveness about going to Walmart, of all places. 

Still, when he came in the next day, and Derek raised a coy eyebrow and said: “Did you have a good night, kid?” He simply shrugged and smirked, refusing to divulge. 

---

Tuesday 16th December, 2014 

“Hey,” Ethan greeted with a wide smile, leaning forwards to hug him tightly. 

Spencer gripped back and tried to subtly inhale the woodsy smell of Ethan’s cologne, heart beating dangerously fast in his chest. 

“Hi,” Spencer answered, shyly, as they broke apart, “Sorry I’m late.”

“I haven’t been waiting long,” Ethan shrugged, easily, sitting down again, “Is everything alright? Didn’t you get back at one?”

Spencer settled into the booth opposite Ethan, slipping his coat off and folding it over his hands before setting it to one side. 

“Yeah, I had to do some Christmas shopping.”

“We did all our Christmas shopping last week,” Ethan frowned, “Believe me, I remember how painful it was trying to get something for my sisters.”

He cracked a smile at the other man, toying with the napkin between his fingers. He and Ethan had gone to the mall last weekend to get their Christmas presents together. Ethan had to buy considerably more presents than he did, but they’d huddled together in a coffee shop afterwards and bought seasonal drinks and shared a cookie. 

“Different kind of shopping,” Spencer said lightly, taking a sip of the water that was on the table. 

Ethan arched an eyebrow, smirking. 

“Oh yeah?” He challenged, long eyelashes fluttering, “Get me anything good?”

Spencer laughed, giggling and feeling his cheeks tinge pink as Ethan gave a pleased grin. He actually had got Ethan a Christmas present, but he’d got that a while ago. He’d deliberated over it for a while, unsure if he should get anything at all. They weren’t dating, he had to remind himself firmly. 

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Spencer answered, a small smile on his lips. 

Ethan would understand why he took part in the Angel Programme. He understood what it meant to Spencer. They’d never really discussed his childhood when he was at college with Ethan, he’d always been too embarrassed to talk it through. Because even though Ethan had grown up working class, and had his own challenges with his father, he’d always been fed and had someone looking out for him. 

But the last time he told someone, it was Maeve, and he’d wished too hard and it had backfired. He wasn’t willing to do it again, Ethan meant too much to him. 

---

Sunday, 20th December, 2015

“Did you need any help, sir?” The volunteer stood by the tree full of tags smiled widely at him, the bells on the elf hat she was donning jangling softly. 

“No, I’m okay, thank you,” Spencer smiled back, shy even after over 10 years of doing this. He gently tugged off four tags, without looking at them. 

‘Boy - 12 months old. Would like: Anything Winnie the Pooh. Size: 12-18 months, shoe size: 4’

‘Boy - newborn. Would like: diapers, clothes. Size: newborn’

‘Girl - 16 years old. Would like: Nail varnish. Size: 6, shoe size: 9’

and;

‘Girl - 8 years old. Would like: Books, Harry Potter things. Size: Youth Medium, shoe size: 1.’

After so many years of getting gifts for the Angel programme, it didn’t take him long to gather everything he needed. He also made a donation to the food bank, as he’d been given a bonus at the end of this year that he did not need in the slightest. 

He sped towards the checkout with little fanfare, aware that Ethan was planning to drop into Spencer’s apartment that evening and he wanted to get back before he did. They’d barely seen each other in the past week, with Spencer on a variety of short cases and Ethan busy at the bar with pre-Christmas events. 

“This is like the fourth year in a row I’ve seen you come here and do this,” A young girl at the checkout commented, chewing idly on a piece of pink bubblegum, “Are you like, really rich?”

He chewed the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Money was always relative. There were times in his childhood where finding quarters on the street was the difference between a hot meal and going to bed hungry. 

He’d grown accustomed to not having to panic when his bills came through the mailbox, to feeling comfortable enough to pick up name brand jelly because he preferred it to the store-brand that left a sour taste in his mouth. 

Did he have a lot of disposable income? No, not compared to most of the team he worked with. He was still paying off Bennington, which wasn’t cheap. 

“Yeah,” He answered the girl anyway, smiling to himself and slipping ten dollars into the tip jar. 

---

Saturday, 17th December, 2016

“I’ve missed you,” Ethan crowded into his space as soon as Spencer stepped through the door, pressing a kiss to his lips, “You’ve been gone far too long.”

“It’s only been three days,” Spencer replied, fondly, accepting the hug anyway and winding his arms around Ethan’s waist. 

“Yes, but when it’s the week before Christmas, that time is, like, doubled,” Ethan muttered, lips brushing against the sensitive skin just under Spencer’s ear and making the younger man shudder slightly. 

The apartment was dark, with only a few dimmed lights to brighten up the room, but it was still slightly cold which was a clear sign that Ethan hadn’t been in it for very long. 

“I was thinking,” Ethan started, fingers rubbing small circles into his lower back and settling his head on Spencer’s shoulder, “That we could order in and watch a Christmas movie? I swear we see less of each other now that we live together.”

Spencer felt a kick of guilt. He needed to do his shopping today, he probably wouldn’t get another chance before the deadline day. Living with Ethan had been great, he loved having the other man close to him. But there was no way he’d be able to go shopping, wrap it all and take it back without Ethan knowing. 

“Um- actually-”

Ethan pulled back to look at Spencer in the eye, raising an eyebrow. 

“I have to go shopping.”

“For what?” He asked, suspiciously, “We’re ordering in.”

Spencer squirmed slightly, cheeks flushing. 

“I need to get Christmas presents,” He answered, avoiding Ethan’s gaze, especially when the other man furrowed his brow once more. 

“You’ve got them all. Even mine. I know, because you won’t let me go into the bottom of the wardrobe, even for the other box.”

Spencer felt his whole body flame with heat. Ethan smirked at him, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. He was right, Spencer had bought Ethan an electric violin for Christmas, and it was resting gift wrapped in the bottom of their wardrobe which now contained a mixture of their belongings. 

“This is for someone else,” He said evasively, choosing not to rise to Ethan’s obvious amusement at his own flustered state. 

“You got another boyfriend I don’t know about?” Ethan questioned, wryly. 

“Of course not!” Spencer laughed, finally meeting his gaze again, although his cheeks remained a dusty pink. 

“C’mon, tell me,” Ethan squeezed his hips, reassuringly. 

“I-” Spencer felt the familiar kick of nervousness, when he remembered the last time he told someone about his only Christmas tradition, “I donate gifts to kids in need at Christmas,” He said finally. 

Ethan blinked at him, so he continued in one long rush. 

“I’ve just been doing it ever since I moved and I had the salary- which was so much more than I needed. A-and I went into Walmart- I know, don’t-” He cut in, as Ethan’s eyebrows flew up, “And they had these tags for kids in need, and I couldn’t remember the last time I got a Christmas present, especially as a child, so I just did it. I’ve been doing it ever since. The deadline is this week, so I really need to do it today.”

He took a deep breath when he was done, eyes sliding over to Ethan nervously, only to find the other man looking at him with so much adoration it made his stomach drop pleasantly and a bashful smile began to creep onto his face. 

“You’re so cute,” Ethan giggled eventually, tilting his head up to kiss him on the cheek, “Of course we can go and do that. I know this means a lot to you, thank you for telling me.”

He relaxed muscles he didn’t even know he was tensing, leaning down to kiss the brunette slow and firm. 

“Hmm, and once we’re done, we can follow up on that ,” Ethan murmured when they pulled apart, eyes twinkling.

Spencer laughed, and grabbed his wallet. It took them over three hours, causing Ethan to fall asleep halfway through wrapping with his head lolling on the back of the couch. He completed his Lego set, a pirate ship, to the soft, snuffling sound of Ethan snoring.

---

Saturday, 16th December, 2017

It wasn’t so much that Spencer felt prison had changed him as a person, these days. It was more that he felt that it had changed his perception on literally everything. Completing tasks that used to be simple now felt like they took so much more out of him, like washing his hair and brushing his teeth. 

He hadn’t felt like this in a long time, not since after Hankel.

Ethan had been fantastic. One of Spencer’s largest worries coming out of prison, suffering from PTSD and swinging from emotion to emotion, was that it was going to be too much for Ethan. The other man had pulled away from the FBI for a normal life, and now his long-term partner was a shell of himself; different. 

But, Ethan had been an unwavering beacon of support. He’d gently coaxed him into eating, firm where he needed to be but still his boyfriend without being a caretaker. He understood when a challenge was out of his control, and often orchestrated people in Spencer’s life that could handle it. 

He’d been doing better, in the past few months. After their extended break, he’d had a chance to catch up with himself and take a moment. He’d come back to the BAU, nervous, but confident he could do it once more. 

(That had been another thing he worried Ethan would resent him for: for going back. Luckily, he had the best partner in the world who was happy as long as Spencer was happy).

And, he was thoroughly pleased, when the thought of going and doing his yearly-Christmas shopping for the Angel Programme didn’t make him feel exhausted, instead filling him with the familiar warmth it did before. 

He stuck to 3 tags, that year. 

‘Girl - 4 years old. Would like: fairy wings/dress up. Size: 4T, shoe size: 10’

‘Boy - 14 years old. Would like: Headphones. Size: M, shoe size: 9’

and;

‘Boy - 17 years old. Would like: craft supplies. Size: L, shoe size 11’

For once in his life, he didn’t feel like being in Walmart was too overwhelming for him to handle. He still went in the early evening, to avoid the main rush, but the fluorescent lights barely made him flinch, and he could tune the music out without much fanfare. 

In his mind, nothing was as overwhelming as prison had been. It was like his senses had been cauterized since being there, and they still felt a little numb. 

There was an array of dress-up costumes, so he got a princess outfit (and added a tiara separately), a fairy outfit, an astronaut and a chef. He selected a nice quality pair of over-ear headphones and some smaller in-ear buds just in case he wanted specific ones. Finally, he added acrylic paint, brushes, two sketchbooks, watercolor pencils, markers, graphite pencils, and an assorted pack of crafting supplies such as pipe cleaners, pompoms and glitter. He hadn’t been specific, so he figured an array of things would probably be best. 

He bought himself chicken nuggets and fries for his dinner, too tired to even think about making anything else, but he did pick up some skittles to snack on whilst he wrapped the gifts up. 

Ethan had been at home in San Diego for the past week, because his mom had broken her leg and needed some help with their shop. He’d checked with Spencer four times that he could go, before finally Spencer had pushed him out the door. Consequently, when he got into their apartment it was cold and dark. 

It was just after he’d eaten, and he was halfway through wrapping the first stack of gifts, that there was a knock on his door. 

He frowned up at it, continuing to tie the ribbon faster so that he wouldn’t lose his spot, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Spence?” It was JJ, calling through the door, “Spence, I know you’re in there, I can see the lights. C’mon, let us in.”

He huffed, letting the ribbon fall down, and walked quickly towards the door, sliding the chain across and opening it. 

JJ and Penelope stood on the other side, looking cautious. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” He asked, slightly breathless from his swift walk, leaning against the door. 

“We’ve been trying to message you,” JJ explained, after a moment of peering at him, “So has Ethan. He called us worried because you haven’t messaged him back all day.”

“My phone died,” Spencer explained, surprised, “I left it charging in the other room whilst I went shopping.”

He understood why Ethan was concerned, Spencer had not been very forthright with asking for help ever since prison, and was too often finding himself shying away from his own emotions. He looked back up to JJ and Penelope peering past him curiously. 

He shifted a little on the spot, cheeks going pink as he suddenly realized that there were mountains of presents behind him and he had no good way of explaining it. 

“Shopping?” Penelope asked, eyes lighting up with interest, “You’ve said the magic word, my gorgeous genius.” 

Spencer rolled his eyes, but stepped to the side to allow them to come in. He put his hands in his pockets as they took it, eyeing their surprised expressions at the volume of gifts with a small amount of uncertainty. 

“Did you guys want a drink?” He asked, awkwardly. 

“We- we’re going to meet the team at the Assembly,” JJ protested softly, “You’re coming too.”

He knew there was no point in arguing. They liked to make sure he wasn’t holding himself away from the others by forcing him out without considering his opinion. He was certain he was doing more socially than he did before he went to prison. 

“Okay,” Spencer shrugged, “I’ll grab my coat.”

He moved through to their bedroom and opened the wardrobe, pulling his thick coat off the hanger and shifting it on. 

“Who are all the presents for?” Penelope called through the door, and the soft rustling that followed told him that they were inspecting them. 

“Er-” He swallowed back his discomfort, avoiding their gaze as he came back into the living room by looking down to button up his coat, “I donate gifts to charity. Are you ready to-”

“All of them?” JJ asked, setting down a pair of jeans. 

“Yes,” Spencer nodded, “There’s a charity that organizes it. You pick a tag, get the gifts, end of. Who’s going-”

“This is so much stuff,” Penelope interrupted, and he pursed his lips in annoyance but didn’t say anything, “This can’t all be one tag.”

“There’s three-” He gestured to the tags that were sitting on his kitchen island, “Can we-”

“This is what you do every year, isn’t it?” Penelope asked, critically, proving once again that although she wasn’t a profiler she was extremely good at piecing together information and reading people. 

“Yeah,” He said quietly, slipping his phone, keys and wallet into his pocket, “Ever since I joined the BAU. I get a couple of tags and buy all the gifts, grab some dinner and wrap them back here whilst eating candy. Sometimes I watch a movie.” 

There was a moment of quiet, and he shrugged again, helplessly. He hadn’t really wanted to tell them, but he didn’t have anything to hide, and they’d asked. 

“That’s really nice,” Penelope smiled at him, all teeth, and he couldn’t help but smile back at her. 

“Just doing what I wish I’d had,” He shrugged again, because it was all he could do, before turning around, “Let’s go then. I’ll finish wrapping later.”

He missed the way Penelope and JJ glanced at each other, knowing and sad. 

---

Saturday, 23rd December, 2017

“I’m not sure, Garcia,” He groaned dubiously down the phone, “Ethan’s planning to call tonight. I was going to order in and catch up on sleep.”

“Whilst that sounds really cute,” She giggled on the other end of the line, “Come to Rossi’s. It’s just a team thing, it’ll be fun.”

“We all went out on Saturday,” Spencer frowned back, looking mournfully over at the large stack of books on butterfly genetics he’d been planning to delve into before falling asleep on his couch. 

“Well, legend has it that people can socialize twice within the space of one week,” She argued, “C’mon, or I’ll put Emily on the phone and she’s already had three glasses of wine.”

“Two and a half!” He heard a distant shout and he grinned to himself, fondly shaking his head. 

“Fine, I’ll be there in approximately twenty-four minutes,” He answered, “Do I need to bring anything?”

“Just that cute face,” Penelope replied, cheerfully, and a little smug, “Bye, sweetheart.”

He wished his farewell, and pocketed his phone with a huff. They’d come back from a case in Miami that morning and he’d spent the rest of the day catching up with paperwork alone in the office whilst the rest of the team had gone home. He’d been planning a quiet evening in waiting for Ethan’s call and had literally just toed off his shoes when Penelope called him. 

Rossi generally tended to serve food at his house when they visited, but he quickly scoffed a granola bar just in case, as he hadn’t eaten yet. Shoving his feet back into his shoes and bending to lace them, he also grabbed his phone, wallet and keys. 

The drive wasn’t long, but he caught the tail end of the rush-hour traffic, so it took him 29 minutes instead of the predicted 24. When he got out and locked his car, he had barely made it two steps before the front door was flung open. 

“Spence!” JJ beamed at him, her eyes twinkling in a way that made him hesitate slightly. 

“JJ,” He answered, and when he reached her she gave him a strong hug, smelling like cinnamon and laundry detergent. 

“Come in, quick,” She ushered him into Rossi’s house, where he could already hear a myriad of cheerful voices even at Rossi’s considerably sized doorway, “Everyone’s already here.”

When he came into Rossi’s living room, he blinked in surprise, mouth parting slightly in shock.

‘Everyone’, was not an overstatement. All the current team (Hotch, Rossi, Emily, JJ, Penelope, Luke) were here, as was Derek, Savannah, Will and the kids. 

“Uncle Spencer!” Henry cheered, darting forwards. 

He caught Henry instantly, although he didn’t take his eyes off the scene in front of him, beginning to feel a grin take over his face. There were presents everywhere. 

Clothes, toys, toiletries, food and decoration was spread out all over the floor, the large square coffee table, and the couches, all in various states of wrap. The flat-screen tv was playing the grinch, which Jack was sitting in front of icing gingerbread cookies. Michael and Hank were both in baby carriers, sleeping soundly swaddled in blankets. 

The fireplace was crackling pleasantly over the top of everyone’s voices, and hanging on the mantelpiece were 10 red and white striped tags. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” JJ murmured, next to him, squeezing his arm, “I know Ethan won’t be back for Christmas. We just wanted to be involved with your tradition. That’s what you do with family, right? We’re decorating Christmas cookies, that’s what Hotch and Jack do. And we’re watching the grinch, because Penelope always watches it. And we’ve got wine, which is an Emily tradition, apparently-”

He snorted, but it was a bit wet, because his eyes were stinging. 

“It’s lovely,” He murmured, “Thank you.”

JJ hugged him, over the top of Henry, who still had his arms wrapped around Spencer’s waist. 

“C’mon, kid,” Derek called, “I need help wrapping, I’m halfway behind everyone else.”

He laughed, moving to sit next to the man, who slung an arm around his shoulders and knocked their heads together fondly. Henry went back to icing cookies, not before sliding one across to Spencer. 

To put it simply, it was the nicest Christmas he’d ever had. Everyone had gone to Walmart after coming home from the case to shop for their tags, and in his opinion, they’d all done excellently. He passed on advice about what food they could include in the bags, and to write ‘from Santa’ on the tags for younger kids. 

Around an hour in, Rossi served out three lasagnes, which was so delicious he went back for seconds. After they gorged on more Christmas cookies, and switched over to ‘the Muppets Christmas Carol’. 

“Dad?” Jack tugged on Hotch’s trouser leg to grab his attention, which the older man instantly gave, “Can we give Spencer his present?”

He blinked at them, a kick of uncertainty going through him. He’d not brought any of their presents with him, they were all sat at home half-wrapped. 

“Of course we can!” Penelope said instantly, hopping up and going behind a couch to receive a box gift-wrapped in red shiny paper. 

“Oh, I didn’t-” He wrung his hands together nervously, palms sweating under the gaze of everyone in the room. 

“It’s from all of us,” Penelope reassured, “Just to say Merry Christmas and thank you for the idea of doing the tags.”

Instantly, he wanted to protest. He hadn’t come up with the Angel Programme. Just because he’d been doing it for a long time didn’t mean he deserved any kind of recognition for it. But Penelope was smiling so sweetly, and Emily squeezed his hand reassuringly, so he reached up for the box. 

His eyes widened at the contents, when the gift-wrap came off. 

“Oh my god,” He whispered, the pieces inside clattering together as he turned it the right way up, to reveal the picture, “I love it.”

It was the Star Wars Lego Death Star. 

“Well we got told that you always do Lego after doing all this,” Rossi replied, “And Morgan thought this was most appropriate.”

He glanced at Derek, who shrugged slightly, his hand patting Hank’s back absentmindedly as he rocked him back to sleep. 

“How did you know-” He asked, because his perfect memory provided no recollection of mentioning Lego to JJ and Penelope. 

“Ethan,” Penelope answered, “Don’t be mad at him. I called him and asked him more about it.”

“How did you get his number?” He questioned, instantly, frowning. 

Penelope tilted her head slightly, still grinning, tongue poking between her teeth and eyes shining. He grasped it instantly, and snickered to himself. 

“Right, sorry-” He allowed, and then gazed back at the gift, “Seriously, guys, thank you. This has been perfect.”

JJ kissed the top of his head as she passed, and Emily patted his knee, which made him feel a little like a child but was also so nice that he didn’t care. Having the people he considered as his family all in one room, laughing and having fun, doing something that made him feel good was possibly the best way he could have spent his Christmas. 

“Hey, Spence,” Henry piped up, from by his knee, “Did you need any help building that?”