Some Things That Won't Change
(I'm just barely getting this in under the wire for Halloween, but hopefully someone will still enjoy it! As always, I worry a little when I write stories focused on others besides Morgan and Garcia, so I'd love to hear if you think I have them in character and what you think of the story. Mabelreid especially, hope you like this…We'll call it your Halloween treat! I've also been wanting to write something addressing how much I imagine Reid – and the rest of them – are missing JJ. I don't own them, obviously, and never have, but I did enjoy playing with some different members of the team. Keep your eyes peeled if you're fans of "Castle" also, I'm hoping to have my first fanfic for that up in the next couple days…fingers crossed!)
It's funny, the odd times and ways in which JJ not being with them anymore strikes him. He'll be going along as always, writing up a report (he does twice as many now that she isn't there to stop Morgan and Emily from sloughing extras off on him), delivering a profile, or heading home after a case has wrapped late at night, and he'll think of the victim's family member who felt none of them understood what they were feeling or cared enough about the pain they were going through. He'll reflect on how they cobbled together a press release at the last second and how Hotch delivered it on the news – crisply and professionally, but without JJ's polish and innate ability to draw the listeners in and make them care. Rationally, he knows it's only natural to miss her. She hasn't been gone that long – just a few weeks – and they worked together for over six years, of course they all still feel the void she left behind. But a small part of his brain, the one he doesn't let have free reign very often for all of the painful memories stored there, tells him no amount of time or distance will change the ache, or the feeling that a perfectly fitted piece is missing from the well-put-together team puzzle. They'll have to try to replace her…but Jennifer Jareau is irreplaceable.
Sighing, Spencer Reid (no one calls him Spence now) stands from his desk at the BAU, nods to Prentiss who is still filling out reports at her desk to his left, and decides he's getting out of there for the night. He's filled out all the paperwork he had stored up, new cases are coming to them a bit more slowly at present. Morgan, Garcia, and Rossi left hours ago. It's time to head for home and pretend for a few hours that he has some sort of life beyond this place. He can see from the light on in Hotch's office over his shoulder that the boss is still here, but that has long since stopped bothering him or making him feel guilty. Hotch has as much as told him not to let himself become the job. It's what ruined the senior agent's marriage, turned him grim and weary, and it's what ran Gideon away from them all, to grieve his losses alone in anonymity.
Reid isn't often given to sentimentality. He has survived too much, seen too much, and done too much to let his emotions have full sway. He would be next door to his mother at Bennington or well on his way to dulling the pain permanently with Dilaudid if he dwelt on the things that hurt him for very long. Yet, he couldn't help but admit that he missed hearing her call him 'Spence', or having her teasingly tousle his hair, or argue that he was cheating at cards as they flew back to Quantico on the jet. A member of their family had been forcibly taken away and it was abysmally unfair, just as his life had always been in so many ways. He secretly admitted that he didn't care how weak or sappy it sounded, the halls of the BAU truly were darker without her blond hair swinging like sunshine behind her as she entered the round table room with new case files for them, and her ray-of-light smile gracing them with her presence and humanity as she told them what Henry had done the night before, reminding the rest of them of the human and normal things that they were fighting to protect.
His messenger bag knocked against his hip as he walked to the elevator and stepped inside. Riding down to the parking garage, Reid couldn't help a bit of wallowing self-pity. Couldn't some things just stay the way they were? And hadn't this makeshift family of his – the only one where he'd ever belonged – been through enough yet? He knew the answer to that – in their line of work, enough would only be when one of them had to break. Reid didn't like to admit that what his true breaking point, or Hotch's, or Emily's, or anyone on this team's was, was a frightening proposition to consider, knowing what each of them had already weathered and managed to survive.
He got into his car, somewhat comforted by its rickety familiarity alone, and realized that he could run through all sorts of psychological studies and findings stored in his brain that told just exactly what neuroses and fears his reluctance to change reflected, but he forced himself not to dwell on it, trying to find some comfort in the fact that wanting things to stay the same was also simply human nature. Pulling out of his parking space and heading for his quiet, dark apartment, Spencer Reid wished there was something he could do to at least feel he'd made things closer to being right again. He would just need a little courage, and so he gathered up what he had and dialed the phone.
Nearly an hour had passed when he stepped into the glow of the porchlight at her doorstep and glanced down again at the plastic shopping bag in his hand before squaring his shoulders and ringing the doorbell resolutely. Even though he tried hard to overcome his social awkwardness, he couldn't help shifting his weight from foot to foot anxiously as he waited for the door to be opened. He was pleasantly surprised into letting out a startled bark of laughter when the door did open though. She was there, but it was his godson in her arms that greeted him enthusiastically, stretching out his arms to be taken. "Unca 'Pence! Unca 'Pence!" Henry LaMontagne lisped excitedly, giggling even as he called out the truncated version of Reid's first name.
Reid chuckled and held his arms out to take Henry from JJ. "Hey, little man," he greeted, showing the little boy the bag he carried with him. "Do you already have a Halloween costume?"
Several hours later, Spencer Reid found himself much more at ease, the racing, uneasy feeling that had taken up residence in his chest finally stilled as he sat in JJ and Will's living room on the couch with her, Henry stretched out between them asleep. His outfit from his "Uncle Spence" had been quite a hit in the neighborhood: a white lab coat, black plastic spectacles, and a wildly frazzled wig had effectively turned him into the cutest little "mad scientist" ever, and Reid had been pleased with his choice and inwardly thrilled that Henry seemed to like it that well.
He raised his eyes from his dozing godson to look up at JJ, realizing that though they had both been sitting in comfortable silence, she was speaking again and he didn't want to miss what she had to say. Her eyes were so warm as she smiled, another thing he missed tremendously every day – her genuine affection and friendship. "You really made his evening, Spence," JJ said quietly, sifting her fingers lightly through Henry's hair lovingly. "He had a dopey costume that his mommy bought him and was going to have to trick-or-treat with her. Instead you found him a really unique costume and made the evening special by coming along."
Reid grinned back at her, touched. "It meant a lot to have him be happy to see me and want me to go with you guys," Reid answered. "It's nice to have someone to celebrate my favorite holiday with."
"Well, I was glad to have you. I missed you all even more today than usual," JJ continued laughingly. "I missed you coming to work in some mask and tormenting Morgan for getting so jumpy. Emily was probably laughing at the pair of you and Hotch and Rossi were trying to pretend they didn't see any of it. And I didn't get to see what Penelope dressed up as either…"
"She was a cat," Reid supplied.
"A cat?" JJ questioned, disbelieving, "That's not very-"
"A purple polka-dotted cat," Reid elaborated.
"Oh, well, that sounds more like her!" JJ giggled girlishly and nodded in approval. She reached across Henry's sleeping form to take Reid's hand and squeeze it warmly for several moments in hers. "Thank you for coming to see us," she told him more seriously, her voice honest and full of emotion.
"Well," he fidgeted, pulled at the hem of his cardigan, "I wanted you to know that I missed you…we all do…and that you definitely haven't been forgotten."
"That means a lot to me, Spence. You guys were – are – my family. Not being there to help you everyday really makes me feel helpless, but I'm getting used to it…slowly. At least it's reassuring to know that the feeling is mutual."
"It's true," he stated simply, shrugging as if he didn't think his words were really all that much.
They were companionable quiet again together for some minutes, alternately watching Henry breathe peacefully in and out and the flickering light emanating from the eyes and mouth of the jack-o-lantern sitting on the coffee table next to the tray of cookies they'd devoured after their trick-or-treat adventure. Nothing had to be said to enjoy just sitting with a friend as the evening darkened into night.
"Spence?" JJ started tentatively, "You know you're always welcome here, don't you? To drop in and visit, I mean. You're Henry's godfather, after all. Will really enjoys talking to you, even lots of times he's still out until late. And you're my friend. That will never change…at least, I hope not."
"No, I don't want it to," Reid responded, working hard for the few tears her words had brought to his eyes to not be obvious as he blinked them back. This was what he had hoped for this evening to prove; what he had wanted to say himself. And yet, as she often did, JJ had put his thoughts into more eloquent words, almost as if she had read his mind, or else was able to share his thoughts like they were her own. "Too much had had to change already; our friendship shouldn't have to."
She smiled at that, her eyes seeming to know his thoughts, just as her words had moments before. "Well, for tonight, I guess I should let you go so you can get some sleep," she finally said. "In your line of work, it doesn't pay to not be alert. Plus, I need to put Henry to bed before he gets a stiff neck."
Reid hesitated sheepishly for a second, then whispered with near reverence, "Can I help?"
"Sure," JJ answered, actually beaming at how much her dear friend Spence cared for her son. Honestly even more than she'd guessed he would when she had made him Henry's godfather. She watched as Spence gently bent to scoop Henry up from the couch and led the way to Henry's bedroom as Reid followed carrying the little boy in his arms.
As he laid Henry down in the blue racecar bed, Reid lightly tousled the child's silky blond hair that was so like his mother's and kissed his forehead, murmuring, "Thanks for tonight, Buddy," where JJ couldn't hear.
Standing again, he made his way back to JJ in the doorway and turned to face her.
JJ laughed softly and reached out to hug him tightly. "Seriously, Spence, we'll have to do this again soon."
"Okay," he answered, amazed at how that promise from her and the one he was about to give her in return made everything else that had been troubling him seem so much better. "I'll come back again soon."