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Being an adult meant going into work despite being sleep-deprived and shivering. Being Spencer meant it could always get worse. Still, he was surprised every time something he’d already not been looking forward to somehow got a hell of a lot worse.
He’d settled on public transport instead of driving after weighing up the pros and cons with cotton for brains. A mask and doing his best to keep to the furthest edge of the tram car was better than accidentally swerving into traffic as a big shiver wracked his body and jolted the wheel. Of course, there’d been the few seconds he’d considered calling in sick. Obviously he couldn’t go with that option, although he did hate himself every minute he stood swaying in the corner and stumbling up the steps.
In all fairness, he should’ve known better. The night before he’d been too hot and this morning he’d been freezing, his body deciding to defy logic and make him feel whatever discomfort it fancied. Sweating whilst his teeth threatened to chatter was almost impressive if it weren’t such a hell to experience. He should’ve known when he first felt a touch too warm that he was coming down with something. He figured it couldn’t be too bad as long as they got called out for a case somewhere decently far so he could nap on the jet for a few hours. As if the universe would be so kind.
He made his way into the office, frowning as he found the team already leaving. Was he late? He checked his watch, but he was right on time. Unless the battery had died and he didn’t notice.
“Reid, would you rather ride with Gideon or me?” Derek asked. The question stumped him for a second as his brain pulled it apart and put it back together. Why was he asking? Usually Jason would steer him towards an SUV, his own 9 times out of 10, so it seemed silly to ask. Were they already going out on a case? Maybe he really was late, but shouldn’t they be angry with him?
“Uh.”
“You’re not at gunpoint, kid. I won’t take any offence. Well, a little offence. I’d rather spend six hours in my car.”
“I- I don’t know what’s going on.”
“You didn’t look at your phone? You commute here, surely that’s the only thing to do.”
Spencer preferred to read, but his eyes kept skipping the words, forcing him to give up after rereading the same paragraph for three stops. He shook his head slowly. He knew he should shove his hand in his pocket and pull it out, make a big show of seeing the text sitting in his inbox, but he just twisted the strap of his bag anxiously instead.
“The jet is being serviced, so we’ll have to drive to our next location. JJ and Prentiss are already paired up,” Jason explained. This is where he should answer the primary question, but he couldn’t rustle up a thought. “You’re with me.” He nodded sharply and followed behind his mentor to the garage like a duckling.
“Possessive much,” Derek grumbled. “Prentiss, I owe you five dollars.”
“Told you!”
The walk was short, but by the time Spencer sat in the passenger seat, he was exhausted. He checked his appearance in the rearview mirror and felt a little disappointed that he didn’t look as bad as he felt. His eye bags were a touch darker than usual, and he could do with more colour in his cheeks, but other than that, nobody would look twice at him. It only went to make him feel worse. There’s something satisfying about the outside matching the inside when you were sick. A tiny bit of relief came when you knew it was obvious you weren’t at your best. Without it, he just felt overdramatic.
He looked away when Jason got into the driver’s seat. They sat in silence for a minute or two as Jason messed with the seat and tilted the rearview mirror slightly for a better view. He clicked in his seatbelt, turned down the radio preemptively and started up the engine. The radio crackled to life, and he swiftly turned it to the classical music station. It was probably a good thing Spencer was riding with him when he felt so out of it. He kept the music on and the air conditioning high. A sigh escaped him as he tried to relax into the seat.
“Rough morning?” Jason asked as they pulled out of the garage.
“Not particularly.” Again, his response felt delayed, but at least he got an answer out this time.
“Rough night?” he tried with a hopeful tone.
He’d been pressing Spencer to enjoy a life outside of work. His efforts doubled since the Fisher King case, although he’d thankfully stopped trying to set him up with JJ. Spencer didn’t know why he bothered when office romances were frowned upon, though not entirely uncommon. Even if Spencer did feel that way about her, he wouldn’t pursue it for fear of making his social interactions even more awkward when he inevitably messed it up.
“No. Why?”
“You blanked. You never blank.”
“It’s nothing,” he replied, a shiver running through him. The cool air felt nice against his warm skin, but it did nothing for the chill that had stuck with him since the night before.
“Cold? I can turn it down.”
“I’m okay.”
“We’ve got six hours, Reid. Don’t spend all of it playing coy. I won’t tell anyone.” Unlike Derek, he thought bitterly.
“I have a low-grade fever.”
“Was it that hard to say?”
“Potentially. I don’t want to be sent home when I can function.”
“Yes, you functioned just fine when Morgan asked you that terribly hard-hitting question.” He huffed and looked pointedly out of the window. “What temperature?”
“100.4 as of this morning.” Jason nodded, presumably cataloguing that information for later.
“You might want to check it again if you’re shivering.”
“I’ll check when I stop. By then, I would’ve reached the temperature my body deems necessary.”
“The greatest wealth is health.”
“Virgil,” he mumbled just to prove his brain still worked. “What’s the relation?”
“You need to take care of yourself.”
Jason had been harping on him for that too. He'd been taking no time for himself and running himself thin. Spencer would argue he was handling everything very well, and if he didn’t need time off, then he shouldn’t be penalised for not seeking it. He could still do his job. He could still think coherently, although it felt like he had to run through his mind to find the right filing cabinet to retrieve the information. What good would it do him to sit at home? If anything, it would require more work for him to stay home, where he hardly kept any fresh food for fear of it spoiling before he came back from another trip, so he’d have to shop, and that would wipe him out mentally and physically. At least when he was with the team, they provided lunch with little to no preparation.
“I didn’t do this to myself.”
“No?” He didn’t like that tone, and it must’ve shown on his face, Jason shaking his head dismissively. “Go lay in the backseat. There’s a blanket somewhere back there too.”
“That’s illegal, not to mention entirely unsafe.”
“Recline the front seat then.”
“That’s not safe either.”
“Lean against the window or something. Find a position safe enough for you to take a cat nap. You look awful.”
“I do not.”
“You don’t look like yourself. I’d consider that awful.” Spencer glared at him, unable to ignore that tiny piece of him finally placated by the older taking notice of the small differences. “I’ll wake you up when we get to the first stop.”
“We’re stopping?”
“I’m not driving six hours straight if there’s not a dodo at the end of it.”
Out of the corner of Jason’s eye, he watched as Spencer put up a valiant fight to stay awake, only to eventually succumb to it. He couldn’t help the amused smile tugging at his lips. For as beyond his years as Spencer acted, he still fussed like a toddler when he was told to do something he didn’t deem necessary. Not that he held a gun to the man’s head, threatening to pull the trigger if he didn’t have a nap, but the mere thought of him being mildly disappointed was enough to earn compliance.
He’d keep an eye on Spencer for the rest of the case, though that would be no different to normal. It was weird how easy it was to slip into an almost parental role, although he wouldn’t willingly admit this was anything more than a mentor and mentee relationship. Maybe the guilt stopped him. Stephen’s wasted childhood sitting on his shoulders made it hard to enjoy being someone Spencer looked up to, even aspired to be in some aspects. Jason hoped he sought to be all the good parts of himself, not the workaholic ready to sacrifice a normal life for the next cat-and-mouse game.
True to his word, Jason tried to wake Spencer at the first stop. Did he try hard? No. Spencer needed the rest to sleep off the worst of whatever he caught, and he clearly hadn’t yet. He was still shivering, the fever presumably climbing, but gradually enough that the shakes were the only visible evidence of it. They could always make another stop further on the road; it wasn’t like they were out in the sticks and a few minutes in a restroom wouldn’t impact them any worse than the traffic they were bound to come across.
Frowning to himself, Jason stepped out of the SUV and went searching for the blankets they kept in the footwell. He briefly considered Spencer’s germophobia, but if he was already sick then there couldn’t be much to complain about. Besides, they clean these cars out after every ride, mostly to catch any loose baggies or bottles that shouldn’t be there. If an agent was stupid enough to leave behind evidence, then they certainly weren’t fit for the job.
Jason carefully opened the door, keeping his hand on Spencer’s chest so he didn’t slip too far and wake himself up. His frown deepened at the warmth, but again, if it was something serious, it would’ve been clear. He pushed Spencer’s limp body back, then reached down to recline the seat slightly. Enough so he wouldn’t have to keep him in place. He draped the blanket over him, watched for a moment, then added a second. They could always remove layers if he got too warm.
“What’re you doing?” Emily asked over his shoulder before spotting Spencer in the front seat. “Good thing he’s young. My neck would never recover from that,” she joked. He felt like she was encroaching on their space, then paused as the thought came in. Their space. Not his.
His son’s face flashed on Spencer’s. Of course, the memory was incredibly outdated since it’d been a good few years since they last spoke face to face, and their best years were when Stephen was little.
They’d been driving up to the cabin for a weekend and, as most car rides do, the drive put him to sleep within an hour. He’d curled up in the front seat, tucking his legs under himself and resting his forehead on the passenger door just below the window. Jason had pulled over at a tiny rest stop to retrieve the woollen blankets from the trunk. He kept them for birdwatching, so he had to shake them out and pick out the flecks of grass before wrapping his son in them. He remembered delaying leaving the rest stop, desperate to spend just a few minutes longer as just another father and son.
That cabin stay had been cut short by a cold case suddenly coming live again. Stephen didn’t speak to him for two weeks.
He was getting too attached. Warning signals flashed in his mind, reminding him Spencer already had a father step out on him. He could either embrace it or step away, but both would come with damage he wasn’t prepared to be responsible for. He’d barely reconnected with Stephen in the first place; how could he turn around and invest in someone he had no duty to care for? Jason had already done that.
“Something wrong with him?” she asked.
“Fever. Short-lived if we have any luck. I told him to sleep it off.”
“You’re such a dad,” she chuckled. His heckles rose at the comment. “Wait a sec.” She grabbed her phone from her pocket and took a quick picture. "For Garcia," she explained.