Work Text:
When Dr. Spencer Reid comes into work on Monday morning, late because of the seemingly endless delays to his flight home, he knows something must be very, very wrong. Emily and Dave both look at him with grave expressions, whereas Penelope is outright sobbing.
There’s no sign of Aaron.
He has no idea what’s going on, yet JJ pulls him into the tightest of hugs and says, “I’m so sorry, Spence.” He tries not to think about how at least one of them has cried for the majority of the times they’ve hugged.
As he slowly lowers his bag onto his typical conference room chair around her, he tentatively asks, “What happened?” Confused, vulnerable eyes scanning the room.
JJ’s eyes begin to water, and Penelope wipes furiously at her own in response before leaning over and handing him an analog recording device, “Only I’ve heard it,” She assures, “But I think you’ll want a minute alone.” Now confused beyond belief, with dread pooling in his stomach, he grabs the recorder from Garcia and makes for Aaron’s office for some privacy. As he leaves, he hears poorly concealed whispers behind him asking the room if they think he’ll be okay, followed by replies saying they have no clue.
It’s dark in the office, an odd thing since Aaron always turns the light on right when he comes in, but now that his mind is catching up, he’s starting to worry more and more about where the Hell the team’s boss is. Spencer closes the door behind him without turning the light on, then hits the play button on the device. Turns out, exactly why there was no sign of the man was about to be revealed to him.
Immediately, through the small speakers, comes, “Hi, sweetheart, it’s Aaron and Jack.” The dread of what this message could be finally hits him. “I don’t know when you’ll be able to get this, everything is such a mess right now, but Peter Lewis was spotted at Jack’s soccer game this weekend,” Spencer feels bile rise in his throat. He should have been at that game, would have been, had an emergency with his mom not come up. “I need to do everything I can to keep Jack safe, and I know you can understand that.” Lost in the flow of Aaron’s words, Spencer’s knees grow weak and he slides down to the ground with his back against the side of the desk, mind wrapped in shock.
He tucks his face against his knees as the recording continues, “Right now you’re in Vegas with your mom, you have enough to worry about already; she needs you, the team needs you if we’re going to beat this,” He knows it to be true, but it doesn’t change how harrowed he feels. “But that means you can’t come with us.” Aaron states, and there’s a faint sound of sniffling on the recording before it picks up again, “We’re entering the program until Scratch is caught. I don’t know when we’ll get to see you again, but just know that I wish more than anything that this wasn’t happening, that we didn’t need to leave you. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry.” The sounds of crying pick up harder now, prompting an equal level of tears from their listener.
“Hi, Dr. Dad,” Filters in Jack’s voice now, choking a sob out of the one addressed, “I don’t really know what to say other than: I miss you already, and I wish you could come with us. I hope I get to see you again soon. I love you, Dr. Dad, take care of Nana, and make sure she knows I love her too!”
Then it’s over, and Spencer is left sitting in the dark, curled in on himself. Alone.
God, he wants to scream. He wants to scream until his voice gives out and his throat is raw and his lungs threaten to evacuate his body via his mouth. The visceral grief coursing through his veins just wants to escape, and he wants it gone just as badly. He wishes, just a little, that he just hadn’t woken up this morning. He wishes that he was simply having a horrible nightmare on his mom’s couch. Soon, she’ll shake him awake, and he’ll hug her extra tight, and he’ll go catch his delayed flight home. He’ll come into work and the desk lamp in this office will be on; Spencer will walk through its door, and grab the extra sugary coffee waiting for him. He’ll finally kiss his fiancé good morning, the same routine they’ve gone through every day, while not out on a case, for the last three years.
He squeezes his eyes shut and prays for that reality for God only knows how long, Spencer only knows it’s long enough for the door to click open softly and for JJ to slip through; a sharp reminder that this is the reality he’s being forced to live with. He tilts his head back to lean on the desk, watching her. She doesn’t say anything, she has no real idea what to say to someone in a situation like this, and maybe that’s for the best. She doesn’t know the full scope of the situation, only as much as Penelope was willing to explain. Instead, she takes the spot on the floor next to Spencer and leans her head against his own. A small action that’s sort of become their thing over the years. Despite how in tune with the psyche they all are, no member of the BAU is good at communicating their emotions. Instead, they lean on each other. They don’t need to say anything, chances are, they already know.
“I don’t know what to do,” Spencer whispers like a confession into the cold November morning air of Aaron’s office.
JJ rubs at the arm closest to her in comfort. “I can’t say I know what any of this means for you, but I know how I’d feel if it was my boys.” He nods, he thinks she, of anyone on the team, would be able to understand it best, even after having been in the dark about his and Aaron’s relationship all along. “You know," She says with a little laugh, trying to lighten the mood even just a little bit, “I knew something was going on between you two,” Spencer figured as much, “But I never thought-”
He sighs, “The fact that we managed to keep this all hidden from the team and the Brass is the one thing giving me hope right now that Peter Lewis hasn’t managed to find our house.”
“House? You two have a house?” She can’t keep the astonishment out of her voice. The team all agreed not to grill him for being left out of the loop on something so major in their lives for so long. Reid needs their support, not the third degree. Still, they hid a house!? What happened to their apartments!? Though, now that she thinks about it, she hasn’t been over to either one in quite some time.
With a heavy sigh, Spencer pulls himself up to stand, then extends a hand to help her up too. Once she’s steady on her feet, he walks out the door without replying, to which she expectedly follows behind, calling his name in question, until, finally, they reach the conference room where the rest of the team remains.
The voice recorder is tucked into his hand, wrapped up in a death grip, and they all notice the evidence of the violent sobbing on his face. They pretended not to hear it clearly through the wall, the walls being quite thin, until JJ had enough and marched herself into the small room, determined to comfort her best friend as best she could. The only one who even remotely acknowledges it now is Garcia, expectedly, who dabs at his face with one of her extra soft tissues, this job brings her to tears far too often. For once, it’s Spencer who initiates a hug between them, he doesn’t very often, and, of course, she reciprocates with unparalleled enthusiasm, holding him close and whispering sweet nothings into his hair about how everything will be okay, that they’d bring his babies home. After a moment, Spencer pulls back and turns to the room of people, who all wait for what he may say with bated breath. He clears his throat and says, “There’s something you guys should see, something you all should know. Something too important to keep secret anymore.”
“Anything you need, Spence.” Their new Unit Chief promises. Emily remembers the call she received more than three years ago now, back when things between the two men were just getting started. How far they’ve come, two people she thinks deserve a peaceful life, a happy ending, more than anything, makes this all the more heartbreaking to witness.
The team splits up between two cars: JJ, Emily, and Luke in Spencer’s ancient Volvo, while Penelope and Tara follow behind, piled into Rossi’s own respective ancient vehicle. Spencer refuses to put the address into any GPS that could even possibly be linked to the team, too paranoid about Scratch. He and Garcia have the route memorised by now, so she chooses to go with Rossi, just in case the two cars get separated.
Thirty minutes later finds them finally pulling up in front of an older two-story home, and already, they can see soccer nets in the backyard and a porch swing to the left of the front door. Spencer directs the team to follow him to the door once both cars are parked securely in the garage. Inside, even more traces of a small family can be found.
They each filter inside and are immediately in awe. It’s homey, abundant in personality and it quickly becomes clear which personalities are influencing the environment. On the walls are framed pictures of Spencer, Aaron, Jack, Haley, and Jess, all in various combinations; occasionally members of the team make an appearance too. JJ laughs at one in particular that features a much younger Spencer Reid sandwiched between herself and Haley, each kissing one of his cheeks, while Garcia stands above him with her lips pressed to his head. She remembers that night, that after several drinks the man had said, ‘All I ever am is surrounded by blonde women who want to put me in their purse.’
The open concept reveals a well-sized kitchen, and most obviously, a fridge covered in drawings Jack has made over what looks to be years. The fridge also hosts what looks to be his latest As in school, a math test and a science, so there’s little doubt on who may have put it up for display. On the side, there’s a little whiteboard with a list of chores divided between Aaron, Jack, and Spencer. Half of the list looks to be complete.
The walls themselves are the same green as Spencer’s apartment, and the living room seems to share furniture from each man’s previous residence. They mesh well. Two of the walls are, in fact, less ‘wall’ and more built-in shelves. They’re lined with books, awards. Some of Spencer’s nerd-merch and robots Jack has built line one row on each, the model of The Grand Canyon that Spencer got from his mom and various other knick-knacks belonging to the three primarily reside there. Most prominently, centered vertically and horizontally, landing right at the average eye-level, stands the book Spencer was gifted by Maeve on their failed would-be first date. Rossi and JJ think they spot what looks to be framed letters bearing Maeve’s signature as well.
More pictures and paintings line another wall, though this time the pictures mostly feature the two men, Jack, Jess and her family, Garcia, and Morgan, at what looks to be a small party, but it doesn’t take too much closer of a look to realize that these are engagement photos. The team understands far, far more just how dire all of this is for Spencer. When he sees their collective gazes land on those frames, his throat burns. Each image feels like a stake to the heart right now, he looks away.
Overall, the team decides that the decor seems to be the perfect amalgamation of past and present love for two of their dearest friends. It warms them to know that the two men have known some real, wonderful love again, even if most of them weren’t privy to it.
Spencer thinks it may be enough to just let them all profile his home, so as they do, he arms the security system and sets to put on a large pot of coffee, they’re all going to need it. Finally, wordlessly, he sets the recorder harboring Aaron’s message on the coffee table with a nod to Garcia. With that, he drags himself up the stairs and to their bedrooms. He didn’t have time to stop in before he went to work, otherwise he would have known sooner that something was wrong.
Everything lies untouched.
In their room, Spencer sees his side of the bed still made, while Aaron’s is somewhat rumpled from what was likely a hasty attempt at making it before fleeing from the eyes of Mr. Scratch. The day has still barely started and Spencer is already shedding his more formal clothing, suddenly feeling claustrophobic and constricted by the threads, trades them in, leaving only his dress shirt and donning one of Aaron’s sweaters. It’s big on him, but Spencer thinks, in the very back of his mind, that this is as close to being held by his lover as he will likely experience for the next several months.
Jack’s room is much the same when he enters, there are still dirty clothes in the laundry hamper, and his bed is unmade, just as they let him leave it on weekends. The only thing out of the ordinary is the fact that Jack’s favourite stuffed animal is missing. Spencer takes the second favourite off the bed, holds it ever so gently in his hands, and just... Stares into its beady little embroidered eyes for a while. Part of him, the part plagued by nothing but guilt, the part of him on the edge of a doom-spiral, feels it stare back.
Spencer doesn’t raise his head when he senses a presence in the doorway, he simply begins speaking around the silent tears he’s only just now noticed are flowing from his eyes, “You know, I was so relieved when I saw this little guy.” Brown eyes never stray from the little brown monkey held ever so gently in his hands. “This is Jack’s second favourite,” He elaborates further, “I was relieved because... It means that Jack has his favourite with him. If that little frog he’d gotten from Haley was still here... I don’t know what I would have done with myself. He hasn’t slept a day without it since he was two.”
“We’re gonna bring them home, kid,” Says the presence, finally announcing himself as one David Rossi, because of course it’s him. It really would be nobody else.
Flashes of every single time he was just a little too late bombard his mind as he thinks of a response. Through it all, he finally gets the words, “Scratch can’t win, this can’t be like-” Out through breaths which quickly require heaving out.
Yet, “Don’t go there,” Rossi interrupts, hand raised slightly, even though Spencer can’t see, “You have to believe that they’ll be back or you’ll lose yourself and sight of the bigger picture.”
He finally turns, and Rossi can see oh so clearly all the devastation written on his face, a heartbreaking visage; bloodshot eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, a sight the whole team hates, hating for their little genius to know pain. They baby him, they know, but they can’t help it when he’s so baby-able. “If anything happens to them, I’m resigning,” Spencer states firmly, slightly cold, detached, but the emotional weight behind each syllable that escapes his bitten-raw lips is ever-so present. Dave can’t say he blames the kid, not even a little. Spencer sees Dave nod, and he asks, “Does Jess know?”
“They stopped by her place on their way out so they could say their goodbyes, Jack to his grandfather especially, since it’s likely the last time they’ll see each other.” A grimace mars Dave’s face as he explains, and Spencer knows it's because of the exact feeling brewing in his chest.
He tries his best not to let the hurt bleed in alongside the knowledge, but he can't help but ask, “I’m the last to find out?” His tone comes out frail, giving him away instantly.
The grimace deepens, but Dave nods. “Aaron knew that you’d insist on going with them, but he also knew that you’re needed here more, and that your mom needs you,” Dave explains, a look of sympathy, pity, buried in his eyes.
Spencer’s reaction feels more like possession than any sort of willful response. “Stupid!” Leaves his mouth first, “He’s so-” He practically growls, “Stupid, stupid, infuriating man!” He didn’t even get to have a choice, Aaron didn’t give him that chance. Deep down, Spencer knows that Aaron’s assessment is correct, he’s proving it right now, and that cracks open the dam blocking the new emotional whirlpool that threatens to flood him. “I could have at least said goodbye.” The tears flow again, quieter, yet still unstoppable in their paths.
“I know, kid,” Dave says as he pats him on the shoulder, “I know.” Truthfully, none of them would have been able to stomach it. “Come on back downstairs so we can all talk.” He coaxes, and Spencer nods, hugging the monkey to his chest now that he’s done with his outburst. It feels too much like an apology.
Spencer sniffs and says, “I need to make a call first.” Dave is the one to nod this time, and he pats the door frame on his way out with one final sympathetic look. Alone again, he pulls out his phone, sits on the edge of the bed, and dials one very important number. The other end of the line picks up rather quickly.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, pretty boy?” Is the greeting he receives, pulling a laugh from Spencer, even if it sounds choked out and watery. “Woah, okay, what’s going on? Are you okay?” The tonal shift is swift, clearly Morgan caught the teariness to his voice.
Spencer doesn’t have it in himself to even try to lie, “No,” He says, “Nothing is okay.”
“What happened?” Morgan reiterates, concern bleeding into every letter.
“I can’t tell you like this, I can’t risk it.”
“Okay, is this paranoia again or is there an actual threat?”
Spencer rolls his eyes, not that Derek can see, and says, “Actual threat, the entire team is at the house.”
There’s a long pause while Derek processes and Spencer waits for an answer, finally, “I’ll be right over.” The house in question is actually still in Morgan’s name, as he’s the one who did all the reno-work, they just pay for the mortgage, again, through Morgan, too paranoid to put their names on anything official together.
A major sigh of relief leaves Spencer, and he says, “Oh thank God you are still in the city. I thought you’d be home in Chicago.” He manages to laugh a little, though it reads more like the sort of laugh that happens after surviving a sudden dangerous situation.
“It’s your lucky day then, Reid, I drove down early this morning because one of my other houses is being sold.” Morgan keeps his voice more cheerful, trying for some of it to bleed into Reid, since he clearly needs it. “I was just packin’ up.”
Spencer sniffs again and says, “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, man, you know that.”
When they end the call, Spencer takes a deep breath, monkey still in hand, then makes his way back down the stairs and readies himself to face the team. They’re all sitting in the living room, piled onto the couches, Garcia begrudgingly shares ‘Spencer’s Couch of Magic’ as she so named, her favourite, with Luke, leaving a spot open for its actual owner, while the other women take the other couch, Aaron’s, and Rossi is settled in Spencer’s armchair. They’re talking quietly, but all that comes to a halt when Spencer enters the room. Garcia pats the open spot beside her with a smile that comes across as slightly strained with the way her eyes are still watery. He takes the seat, grateful anyway, and doesn’t fight it when she pulls him to her, sinks into the embrace instead.
“Before you ask,” He starts, head tucked against Garcia’s shoulder, “At first, we didn’t tell you all because we were too worried about the Bureau finding out, that was mostly my call, I wasn’t willing to put Aaron’s career in jeopardy.” He sees a look of shock on the faces of JJ, Emily, and Tara at hearing him call Hotch by his first name. Then JJ nods, and he hopes that means the rest of the team understands too. “We were planning on telling you and then-”
“Scratch,” Emily concludes for him, and he nods.
“After he attacked Aaron, we got more paranoid, we were worried about Jack’s safety. It was mutual, but I know I would have gone with Aaron’s decision regardless.” He feels a hand pet through his hair, no doubt Garcia, as he doubts Luke would do so. “We got close to doing so again, we told Morgan about a week after he quit, and well-” he tilts his chin roughly toward the wall of engagement photos, “You were supposed to be in those too, but-”
Spencer’s eyes flit toward Emily, and again she says, “Scratch,” A sad look fills the eyes of the team members he can see, and she adds, “That wasn’t long after his escape, was it?”
“We had been talking about it for a while, if we were ready for that, if we were ready to face the scrutiny from the higher ups,” He shifts a little to get more comfortable, “And we decided that we are, but then the storm, Scratch escaping, it all sort of put a dent in the ambitions of having a real party for it. We invited the people who knew about us already, and decided that would be enough.” Spencer tries to laugh, and honestly would under any other circumstances, “Aaron joked that he knew between Dave and Penelope, we’d end up having a real celebration, all together, once Scratch was apprehended.”
“You know it!” Rossi says as he and Garcia laugh.
It’s then that the team hears the front door unlock and open, all suddenly on guard as they turn to see who could possibly be coming through that door. He may have forgotten to mention that they were expecting a guest. The only ones not on guard are Spencer, Garcia, and Rossi. Spencer, because he was expecting Morgan, Penelope, because she knows two people other than the home’s residents who have keys, and Rossi because he suspects this has to do with the call Spencer had to make.
Derek Morgan slips in and closes the door swiftly, before punching the code into the security pad. When he turns, he finds JJ, Emily, and Luke with their guns drawn and pointed in his direction. He raises his hands in ‘surrender’ as Spencer laughs, for real this time, and says, “Stand down, guys, it’s just Morgan.”
The man arms the security system again, then turns and says, “‘Just Morgan’,” With a roll of his eyes as he approaches, now that the three agents have sat back down, “Please. I am never ‘just’ Morgan.”
“Right you are, you fine, beautiful specimen,” Garcia says as she excitedly extends her arm in his direction, waving him to her because she refuses to move Reid from his comfortable spot, like a cat.
He takes her hand, kisses it, and then her head as he sits on the arm of the couch next to her and says, “Hello, gorgeous.” Behind her, he ruffles Reid’s hair in greeting.
After a quick catch up, the team returns to questioning Spencer.
“Okay, wait,” JJ is the first back on track, making eye contact with Spencer, “I have to know, how did you two end up here?” She asks, and really, he should have expected it based on her reaction to the knowledge.
“I own the place,” Derek chimes in first, and Spencer is glad to not be the one explaining it. “They didn’t want their name on anythin’ official, so it’s still in my name.”
“We just pay the mortgage,” Spencer concludes. He’s really glad he called Morgan, if anyone in the world, outside of Jack and maybe Garcia, can get him smiling again, no one's quite as good at it as Morgan is. It’s a balm to the ache, he knows, but Spencer needs it right now, just so he can get through this day.
The questions continue, and so do his answers, until finally, the bell tolls, and the team is called in on another case.
Spencer tries not to throw up when Emily says the case is about missing kids.
It doesn’t work very well.
“You don’t need to work this case if you can’t take it right now, I’ll understand,” Emily consoles, but he just shakes his head in response as he rinses his mouth by the kitchen sink.
“No, I want-” His breath stutters a second, “I want to work this case, I just-” He tries to think, but his mind feels too muddled right now, “I just don’t think I can-” His chest heaves, and he tries to calm his breathing as best he can. JJ rubs his back from her position beside him. “I can’t go.”
Penelope pinches his cheek and says, “You’ll stay with me!” Her smile always so contagious, it lights up even the darkest of rooms. “When we have breaks we can sneakily watch our favourite Dr. Who episodes.”
Pitifully, and with a slightly exaggerated pout, because no one draws out Spencer's playful side quite like Penelope Garcia, he asks, “Including the originals?”
“Yes, yes, including the originals, and we’re gonna act like we’re having a sleepover so grab your PJs.” Then he nods, far happier than he was not too long ago.
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear any of that,” Emily jests, just glad that she’ll still have Spencer’s wonderful mind available for this case, no matter how much rule bending that may take. Besides, a TV show and PJs are harmless.
“I love you guys,” Spencer says to the room, somewhat suddenly, struck with the feeling, and considering he’d give anything to say the words to his boys one more time, he doesn’t hesitate to say it now, fearful, because in their line of work, any time could likely be the last time. There’s an echo of, ‘We love you too’ from his friends, and he can’t help the warm smile that finally takes the edge off everything. “Yeah,” And it fills his chest, “I know,” He looks to all of them, “I know.”