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A new face had appeared in the bullpen, and from a cursory glance to a full stare, the newcomer had their attention. The team was small enough that anything new was picked up on immediately as though they all shared a psychic link to tear their attention away from their work and focus it on the intruder. Derek took some pity on them. The man, well, kid would be a more accurate description, seemed to wither under their gazes as he nervously searched the bullpen for something.
He was dressed like he’d been snatched out of a feel-good movie from the '80s. His hair was pushed back, but he kept fiddling with one strand that refused to sit behind his ear. His glasses were near comically nerdy, with big frames and thick lenses that shrunk his eyes enough to be noticeable but not enough to be distracting. He was weighed down by a duffel bag on one side and a messenger bag on the other, his free hand held onto its strap for dear life when it wasn’t trying to tame the rogue curl. He looked both eighteen and eighty in terms of style, but his face gave the game away.
An FBI pass hung on his belt loop, and Derek spotted immediately that it wasn’t a visitor pass. Whoever this was worked for the FBI in some capacity. He guessed as an analyst or intern straight from the academy, although Penelope would’ve said something in her usual debrief of the office gossip. Then again, he was a little young for her taste and certainly didn't make up for it in personal style, so maybe she didn't think he was worth mentioning.
Then Derek saw it—that fear. Poor kid was daunted by the room and whoever he belonged to clearly wasn’t speaking up for him so he decided to be the one to make contact.
“SSA Derek Morgan,” he greeted, sticking out his hand. The gesture wasn’t reciprocated; in fact, it was rejected outright. He raised an eyebrow but let the moment pass. Maybe it was just first-day nerves and he was aware that he could be quite intimidating even when he didn't try to be. The very few cons of being built like a Greek god, Penelope would muse. “You?”
“Spencer- Dr- Uh Agent Dr Spencer Reid,” he eventually blurted out before frowning at himself.
“You’re Gideon’s new project?”
When Derek first thought about meeting Spencer, he prepared himself for an arrogant, self-centred twenty-something who thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread. He expected a grandiose performance of intelligence and an assertion of dominance to drive home that he would always be the smartest person in the room. He imagined someone who looked meek, pathetic, almost, if the test scores were anything to go by, which would only go to spur a further need to show off.
Gideon spoke mostly of his intelligence and briefly of his lacklustre physical tests but never of his personality, so Derek assumed it left much to be desired. Spencer couldn’t be insufferable since the team relied on relationships but perhaps his potential was worth more than getting along with him.
The Spencer standing before him wasn’t any of that. Someone who thought they were the best thing ever to grace the FBI would never let themselves look so daunted by the bullpen, knowing they’d be watched carefully. He was new, and the unit was small enough that any change was immediately picked up on. Heads whirled, whispers were shared, and Spencer made no effort to hide his intimidation when he should be basking in the attention. It looked like he wanted nothing more than to disappear rather than claw for more of it.
A lamb to slaughter.
This kid wasn’t going to make it a month, and Derek hoped he would resign rather than be carried out in a casket. The Laboratory Division would be happy to have him back if the rumours were to be believed. He’d spent a year there after the academy since the BAU didn’t hire new post-graduates and did fairly well for himself despite Jason's insistence that he was of better use with them.
“Yes, sir. He said that someone would show me to his office since he had a meeting this morning?”
“You’re the kid with three PHDs?”
“And two BAs, though I’m considering a third if I have time outside of work. I was going to follow linguistics but I’ve already covered the course and they wouldn’t allow a fast track so it wouldn’t be very interesting to be told the information I already know,” Spencer explained. His hand twisted the strap around his fingers anxiously when whatever response he was looking for wasn't given. “Should I choose between Dr or Agent because strung altogether it’s a bit of a mouthful?”
“You look like you’d be kicked out of a bar," he stated, still hung up on the fact this was Jason's wonder kid.
“I can’t say I’ve experienced that, but I am old enough to drink. I just prefer not to.”
“Right- well, his office is up there on the right.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Kid, call me Morgan. I’m not old enough for sir.”
"Uhm, sorry but- could you answer my question?"
"Dr or Agent?" he clarified. Spencer nodded. "Up to you but you should pick one or the other." If he even stuck around long enough for that to be a problem.
“Who’s that in Gideon’s office?” JJ asked. Derek had taken station at the small kitchen area, sipping on his coffee as he kept a watchful eye through the window. Aaron joined him in pensive watching, although he had the tact to occasionally glance at the case he was holding.
“Dr Spencer Reid,” Derek answered.
“I didn’t know Gideon went looking for agents in cradles,” Penelope joked.
“I would’ve thought you’d be fawning over a new target to flirt with,” JJ teased.
“I like my men to withstand strong gusts of wind,” she replied.
“If he wanted him dead, there are easier ways to do it,” Derek commented. “The kid is fresh out of college, can’t even pass some of the most basic physical tests, and Gideon wants to sit him in front of some of the worst humanity has to offer?”
“He’s got potential,” Aaron replied.
There hadn’t been a moment since Jason decided Spencer would join the team that he ever showed hesitation in his decision. Even when faced with suboptimal scores, he simply pulled a few strings and called in old favours to get what he wanted. Whatever he saw, it had to be worth it to cash in favours years in the making.
“Yeah, potential death wish. He's not even armed.”
“He doesn’t need to carry to be able to work on the team,” Aaron offered. Granted, nobody on the team who did field work went anywhere without a gun, but that was besides the point. In theory, it wasn’t a problem. He had plenty of people around him who would take the shot if need be and there was no intention of leaving him alone until he did qualify. Besides, a new agent with a gun in a high-stress job that provided little sleep was a recipe for disaster.
“You let Garcia work with you, and she’s a considerably bigger liability after hacking the FBI,” JJ added. “You’ve only just met him. Give the kid a chance.”
“And you’re okay with this?” he asked Aaron.
“I trust his judgment and the test scores prove it. He’s got something. I would’ve just waited a few years.”
Finally, Jason left his office with Spencer in tow. He stopped by the empty desk, letting Spencer drop off his bags, before carting him over to the rest of the team.
“How was the commute?” Jason asked him. He spoke like he would to any other coworker but he clearly had some sense of pride for Spencer despite having no idea if this job would work out. Again, he seemed put off by the attention he received but he did a much better job of hiding it now.
“Faster than intended. I would’ve been here earlier, but security stopped me.”
“Probably thought you got separated from a field trip,” Derek joked once they were close enough for him to join in.
“No, they needed to search my bags. The FBI stopped conducting tours after 9/11 due to security concerns and has yet to resume. Even if they had, they were conducted in the Washington, DC offices, specifically the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building, which opened in 1975,” he explained, although not unkindly. He took the cadence of sharing a fun fact rather than a correction. It still had Derek cringing either way.
“Okay, someone else talk now.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Spencer. I’m Agent Jennifer Jereau, but please call me JJ. I'm your media liaison,” JJ greeted as she stuck out her hand. He took a step back and gave her a little wave instead.
“I don’t shake hands. You actually share more germs through shaking hands than you do kissing.” She pressed her lips into a thin line and retracted the offer.
“Noted. This is Agent Penelope Garcia, our tech analyst.” Penelope gave him a small wave which he returned. “This is SSA Aaron Hotchner, our unit chief, and I believe you’ve met SSA Derek Morgan already.”
“Go get yourself settled. We’ll have your first case soon enough.”
Derek was calling it now. Two months tops and he’d be back in the lab division. Then they’d have the joy of dealing with a pissed off Jason Gideon for the rest of the year.
“Twenty bucks says he bails in two months,” Derek wagered.
Time passed and Derek had never been happier to be wrong. Well, he was wrong about Spencer leaving. The kid was glued to the job and likely hadn’t seriously considered the other options waiting for him outside the bullpen. He was right about Spencer being a lamb to slaughter.
The initial nervousness may have faded but was replaced with general twitchiness and splitting migraines from the stress of the job combined with the lack of sleep. Spattering of scars remained as permanent reminders for the mistakes both Spencer and the team had made.
Derek saw it most when the young genius was curled up on the jet’s couch after a case. He’d always be brought back to their first big case, where none of them had gotten more than a few hours of sleep over the three days they’d worked. He remembered trying to contain his chuckles as Spencer fought to keep his head up and his eyes open like a child fighting sleep with all their might to stay up just that bit later with all the adults.
“Take the couch,” Jason had told him in his usual no-nonsense tone. He barely looked up from the chessboard but thankfully didn’t feel the need to rub the checkmate. It’d be unsporting to celebrate a win against a half-awake opponent after all.
“Sorry?”
“Go nap on the couch.”
“Uhm- is that not unprofessional? I understand the importance of sleeping when and where psossible but-”
“I’m not asking you to change into your jammies and pick out a bedtime story.” There’s that signature fondness Jason held for him that’s too damn close to fatherly for what he ended up putting them all through.
Sometimes when Derek looked back, a certain bitterness crept up and threatened to taint the memory, and on occasion it succeeded in doing so.
“Everyone sleeps on the jet. Be glad Gideon is offering you the good spot,” Aaron weighed in. He wouldn’t be a father for another few years but he was just as bad as Jason. Spencer just seemed to bring out the paternal instincts in them.
The youngest glanced between the pair, yet it was clear he’d already made up his mind as soon as he got the offer for some rest. He just wanted to put on a good act which they could appreciate, even if they could see right through it.
He cautiously balled up his FBI jacket and sat down on the couch, briefly glancing up anxiously to see if anyone was looking. They made a considered effort not to because they’d all had the awkward first night. He propped his feet up with his messenger bag, not wanting to stain the couch with his sneakers but not wanting to part with them either, and rested his head on his makeshift pillow. The fabric from the jacket crinkled noisily in his ear, making him scrunch up his nose in annoyance, but once he settled, it stopped.
Spencer’s shoulders eventually dropped, and his face relaxed. Derek could see, despite time blurring the details, that even back then, he had never looked peaceful. He stared for what must’ve been too long because when he turned back to get himself comfortable for the evening, he met eyes with Jason. They didn’t say anything, but there was a silent acknowledgement between them of the obvious. Spencer was an asset to the team. Only, Jason thought that was enough to rush him through training, and Derek disagreed.
He still disagreed, but it didn’t matter whether Spencer had been a lamb or grown to a sheep. Mutton, hogget, lamb - he’d be slaughtered all the same. Perhaps they should just be thankful he was spending his best years with them.