On May 2, 1983, Dean Winchester held his baby brothers for the first time. Both of them were the length of mommy's arm, wiggly and red. They were tiny things, in Dean's opinion, even if mommy said that they were big for twins. He couldn't imagine smaller babies being possible, even if mommy said that it was true. Dean took one look at the babies and decided that he liked them well enough, for now. They were noisy and they smelled funny, but he didn't want to get rid of them. After all, they were family and nothing mattered more to a Winchester than family. As he watched over the sleeping babies, Dean promised his mommy that he would always be there when they needed him. He would do anything to keep his baby brothers safe. It was his job.
On November 2, 1983, Dean Winchester carried his baby brothers out of their burning house with tears streaming down his face. Sammy stared at him with wide eyes, one fat baby fist reaching up to pat at his wet cheek. The tiny voice that squeaked out "De?" just made him cry harder. Mommy had been so proud that Sammy's first word had been Dean's name. Spencer, so unlike his twin, didn't speak. Instead, he burrowed into Dean's tiny shoulder, snuffling into his shirt as he cried. Mommy was convinced that Spencer understood more of what happened around him than he let on, that he knew what they were saying when they talked about him. Dean hoped not. He didn't want his baby brother to know that mommy was dead, that she'd been burned up. He wanted to protect Sammy and Spencer, just like he'd promised mommy.
On November 5, 1983, Dean Winchester stood at his mommy's grave, a handful of flowers lying in the dirt in front of her tombstone. His voice quavered as he told mommy about how he'd saved Sammy and Spencer from the fire, about how he'd kept his brothers safe just like he'd promised her. When he told mommy that they were going to be leaving Lawrence, that daddy said he'd found work somewhere else, new tears gathered in the corners of Dean's eyes, even though he'd promised daddy that he would be a big boy, that he would be tough. He didn't want to leave mommy, but daddy said that they had no choice. Right before he left mommy's grave, Dean kneeled down so that daddy wouldn't be able to hear him when he made his last promise. "I'll take care of the boys, mommy. I promise that I'll keep them safe forever. I'll never leave them."
"I know what daddy does," Dean tore his eyes away from watching Sammy play soccer and glanced over at Spencer. He was curled up in the grass with a book so big it made Dean's head hurt, glasses pushed up high on his nose. Dad said that Spencer had an extra dose of mom's smarts, which was why he read so much. Dean just thought it was because he was weird. After all, Dean and Sammy were both smart but they didn't read nearly as much as Spencer did. Well, Sammy did sometimes, when they couldn't afford to put him in soccer, but most of the time he wanted to be outside and playing.
"I know that daddy isn't a salesman like he tells people. Salesmen don't carry as many guns as daddy does." The six year old brushed his bangs out of his face and looked up at Dean, hazel eyes shining. The serious look in those eyes made Dean swallow nervously. Spencer had always been too smart for his own good and if he'd truly figured out what dad did, it could only lead to trouble for all of them. He might be smart, but that didn't mean that Spencer knew when he shouldn't say something to someone new. "I found his notebook, you know, the one he's always writing in. He kills monsters like the one that killed mommy, doesn't he? That's why he makes us do salt lines and stuff. He doesn't want the monsters to get in."
"You don't know what you're talking about, Spencer." Dean had gotten good at lying to his brothers over the years, especially when money was tight or when dad came home with injuries he couldn't explain. It was necessity, in Dean's eyes, part of protecting his brothers like he'd promised mom all those years ago. He would always protect his brothers, even from their own genius minds. He didn't even feel guilty about the lie anymore, like he had a few years ago. It was necessary to keep Spencer safe. "Monsters don't exist. Dad sells knives. Read your book and we'll go get some ice cream after Sammy's game."
Spencer looked back down at his book and Dean turned his attention back to Sammy, watching as he clumsily kicked the ball towards the goal. When Spencer spoke again it was so quiet that Dean almost missed it. "I don't mind that daddy kills monsters. That's what Winchesters do. We protect our family, no matter what. Daddy's just protecting us. Someday, I'm going to kill monsters too, so I can keep us safe, just like daddy does."
On October 9, 1990, Dean woke up as dad opened the door to their motel room, a scowl marring his face. He was still wearing the clothes Dean had seen him in last night when he headed to the bar down the road. Dean was pretty sure that he hadn't had a hunt, but maybe he was wrong. Dad sure looked like he'd been out hunting all night, even if he didn't have any visible injuries. When he saw that Dean was awake, dad sighed and sat down on the bed next to him, laying a heavy hand on Dean's shoulder.
"Spencer ran away last night, son." Dad squeezed at Dean's neck when he made to get up to search for his brother. "No Dean. I already looked for him. He's long gone. He left us. I need you to take care of Sam for me, Dean. You know how close the twins were. Spencer's gone now, so you need to keep Sam safe, okay? Promise me, Dean. Sam needs to be your main concern now. Spencer chose his path."
On October 10, 1990, Dean Winchester looked Sam in the eye and glared at him, ignoring the tears in his brother's eyes. He knew that this was going to hurt Sam more than it hurt him, that Sam wasn't going to understand why Dean and dad were so insistent, but this was the only way to keep Sam safe and Dean would do anything to keep Sam safe. He was all Dean had left, after all. "We don't have another brother. He didn't want us anymore so he left. You don't do that to family, Sam. Forget about Spencer. We're better off without him anyway."
It hadn't been difficult to figure out that dad wasn't a travelling salesman. Sammy may have bought the lie, but Spencer couldn't. Salesmen didn't carry guns with strange silver bullets or pour salt in front of the door at night. Salesmen didn't come home covered in scratches and in need of stitches, mumbling about demons and werewolves. Salesmen didn't keep notebooks with descriptions of monsters in them. Dad was a monster hunter like Van Helsing in Dracula, Spencer just knew it.
When Spencer asked dad what sorts of monsters he fought, he'd expected the man to lie to him, to tell him that monsters didn't exist like Dean had. He'd expected dad to tell him to stop reading horror novels, to focus on books that were more appropriate for his age. He hadn't anticipated this reaction at all.
Huddled in the back seat of the Impala, alone for the first time in memory, Spencer couldn't help but listen to what dad was telling him, even if he wanted nothing more than to ignore it. Since he'd figured out what dad really did, Spencer had thought that when he let dad know that he knew, dad would tell him why he hunted monsters, why they were constantly on the move. He had never expected dad to shove him in the car and drive away from his brothers. He wanted to pretend that this was all a nightmare, that he would wake up in the morning curled between Sammy and Dean like he always was. His mind had never been good at deceiving him, though, so he knew all too well that this was real, that this was happening.
"I don't want to do this Spencer, but it's the only way to keep you boys safe. You're so smart son, just like your mom was. I should've known that you would figure it out soon, but I'd hoped for more time." Dad glanced back at Spencer and shook his head. There was a small spark of regret in his eyes, but he blinked and the emotion was gone, hidden once more in dad's usual indifference. "What I do, what Dean and Sam are going to learn to do, you don't have it in you. You're book smart, but you don't have it in you to take down the monsters that I go after. If I tried to train you to hunt, you'd end up dead within the month, and I can't risk that. You're my son and it's my job to protect you. I'm taking you to stay with your mom's cousin. She'll take care of you until you go off to college."
"Why can't I stay with you, dad? I don't want to leave. I want to stay with Dean and Sam. I don't want to stay with a complete stranger. You know that people don't react well to me." Spencer curled up on himself, staring out the window at the lights of Las Vegas. Usually, he would love the sight of a city this big, he would be fascinated with learning about it, but tonight he could barely see the flashing signs of the Strip. His thoughts were all focused inwards. In his seven years, Spencer had never been away from Sam and Dean for more than a few hours. The thought of leaving his brothers- his only friends- made him want to cry but Dean had told him years ago that dudes didn't have chick flick moments so he held the tears back. "Can't I stay with you and just not hunt? I could learn to do something else to help. Maybe I could do research for you! Please don't make me leave."
"No you can't stay with us!" Spencer flinched at the growl in dad's voice. He'd heard dad get angry before, but never at him, and never like that. Dad sounded just like the kids who made fun of Spencer for being so much smarter than them, like he hated Spencer because he was different. "What if a demon attacked you and we were in the middle of a fight? You being there would put your brothers at risk. They would both do something stupid trying to keep you safe. I can't risk that. You're going to go live with Diana and you're going to go to school. If you really want to be useful, become an FBI agent; keep your brothers off the most wanted list. This is for your protection, Spencer, yours and your brothers'. Now listen carefully," John met Spencer's eyes in the rear-view mirror. Satisfied that Spencer was still paying attention to him, he continued. "Diana is schizophrenic but sometimes the voices she hears are relevant to hunting. We don't know why they are, but they can be helpful. They talk about demons and monsters, about attacks that are going to take place. If you hear anything like that, you call me, do you understand? That's what you can do to help me."
Spencer nodded, eyes wide. He couldn't believe that dad was sending him away to live with a family member he had never met before. Dad had always told him that family came first, that no one should ever matter more to him than his brothers did. Yet here dad was, sending Spencer away because he wasn't built like Sam and Dean, because he didn't look like a fighter. Spencer didn't want to call his dad a hypocrite, but he couldn't help but think it. Swallowing as dad pulled into the driveway of a middle class house, Spencer swore that he would find a way to prove his worth to his dad, to prove he wasn't useless as a hunter. He would do whatever it took to keep his brothers safe because that was his job as a Winchester, but he would also do whatever it took to make his dad accept that he could hunt like he did, that he could work alongside his brothers. He would make sure that he wasn't separated from them for longer than necessary.
Spencer hated the second weekend of October with a passion. While most thirteen year olds were focusing on what horror movies they wanted to stay up late to watch, or what costume they were going to wear to school on Halloween, Spencer was cleaning his dorm room, hiding away anything he didn't want John Winchester to see. He hated having to pretend he was something other than what he was, but John wouldn't accept anything other than the image he had in his head of the weak boy Spencer had once been, before life had forced him to grow up.
Six years ago, when John had abandoned him on William and Diana Reid's doorstep, Spencer had been a scared child, terrified of being separated from his brothers. He'd never had any friends outside of the family. He'd avoided speaking to anyone other than his brothers and father if he could get away with it. Now, as a freshman in college, five years younger than his classmates, Spencer was a jaded teenager, distrustful of anyone and everyone around him. He tutored students older than him because it put him in contact with other people at his intellectual level and people his age because it made people think he was building relationships. The years of separation from his family had hurt Spencer more than he cared to admit, but they had also pushed him to succeed, to exceed expectations. Anyone looking at him would have said that Spencer appeared to be an average kid with an above average intelligence, determined to make his dad proud of him. John (he hadn't been dad since the day he abandoned him) wanted Spencer to join the FBI so that he could cover his brothers' tracks when they got older, so he could keep them out of jail. He thought that Spencer would only ever be good for making sure that Sam and Dean stayed out of jail, that he couldn't handle the realities of hunting. Spencer knew that he could do better than that.
Three years ago John had introduced Spencer to Bobby Singer with instructions to call Bobby if Diana heard anything hunters might need to know. Bobby was unofficially in charge of making sure that hunters showed up somewhere there might be a problem. If something panned out as supernatural, Bobby was the one who knew how to handle it. In the course of phone calls they'd exchanged, Bobby had become somewhat of a mentor for Spencer. He had given Spencer advice on subjects he should study if he wanted to be an expert in hunter lore and told Spencer about an elite unit of the FBI that had inadvertently come across some supernatural baddies over the years. The BAU, according to Bobby, dealt with the scummiest of the scum of humanity, the serial killers local police didn't have the resources to catch. If Spencer really wanted to protect his brothers, he would be best off in the BAU. The fact that one of the founding members was also a hunter didn't hurt. Bobby had promised to introduce Spencer to him when he thought that Spencer was ready for more. As a foundation for his career, it was a promising cornerstone.
Spencer shoved his notebook under the mattress, concealing the last bit of evidence that he was anything more than an extremely young freshman, just as a heavy knock resounded from his door. He knew it would be John, here for his annual reminder of Spencer's perceived failures. Every October, without fail, John would show up and remind him that he was only good for keeping Sam and Dean out of jail before disappearing for another year, off to hunt god knows what with his brothers. The visits were never longer than an hour, and they always left Spencer feeling like he was useless. Sighing, Spencer opened the door and stepped aside as John entered the room, making sure that he was as far out of the man's way as he could be without backing into the hallway. He kept his eyes on the floor, not wanting to risk the hunter's anger for any 'cheek' he might have to offer. It seemed that as the years progressed, the smallest thing could set John off, even if it was completely unintentional on Spencer's part. The anger his father directed at him was enough to make Spencer avoid speaking to John if he could. John may not have been outwardly abusive to the boys while Spencer was still living with them, but he was leery of the man, especially now. He could easily see John hitting him now.
"So," John's voice was laden with disappointment, as it always was when he spoke to Spencer. He could be talking about the weather and he'd still find some way to make it sound as though he believed that it was Spencer's fault it wasn't perfect. "You're in college. I suppose you think that's some sort of accomplishment, something to be proud of. What are you studying?"
"Physics and mathematics, sir." And Greek, Latin, and Sumerian, Spencer added silently. John didn't need to know that. He thought Spencer wasn't cut out to be a hunter, after all. If he knew that Spencer intended to become a linguist as well as a scientist, he would most likely lose his temper. The knowledge that Spencer spent his free time learning everything he could about hunting wouldn't be any more welcome. John thought that anything that wasn't directly related to ganking monsters was a complete waste of time, if it didn't involve his car.
"Huh. And you'll be able to get into the FBI with degrees like those?" Spencer glanced up and met John's steely gaze, nodding once. He wouldn't allow John to intimidate him when it came to his education. John had no say in what he chose to study. He'd already agreed to the career path that John wanted him to take, because he desired to keep his brothers safe. That was as compliant as Spencer was willing to be. "Good. You need to get into the FBI. You'll need to keep an eye out for your brothers. They can't always cover their tracks. If they end up in jail because you weren't able to keep them safe-" John trailed off with a glare and Spencer knew what was left unsaid. The outright aggression had been a recent development, in the last year. John had yet to hit him, but Spencer knew that the desire was there, that he wanted nothing more than to lash out at Spencer for reasons he didn't understand. He was holding his breath until the day that John's self control broke.
Spencer bit back the urge to ask about his brothers, knowing that John wouldn't tell him. It may be his responsibility to keep his brothers safe, but that didn't mean John would tell him how they were. He'd tried to ask, during John's first visit all those years ago, only to be rebuffed. John had made it clear to him that Sam and Dean weren't his concern as long as they weren't in jail and left it at that. After that, Spencer had taken to writing letters to his brothers everyday, filling notebook after notebook with the things he wanted to tell them. John could try and convince him that the three of them were no longer brothers because John had some sort of vendetta against Spencer, but he refused to believe it. Someday he'd see them again, it was only a matter of time. Until then, he relied on what little news Bobby could give him of how they were doing.
John was walking around the room, taking in the books on the shelf and the few personal items Spencer had left out. Spencer had been careful to hide all his books on hunting, knowing that John would be pissed if he found them. Instead, his shelves were full of the books that he needed for his general classes and a few extra physics books. It looked like the dorm room of any other college student, not the dorm room of a hunter in training. Even knowing how smart Spencer was, and his capability to learn, hadn't convinced John that Spencer could be helpful to him in any way.
"How are you paying for all this?" John set down Spencer's laptop and advanced on the boy. Unconsciously, Spencer flinched back from him, unable to stop the instinct to protect himself. "You using Diana's money for this, boy?"
"No sir!" Spencer shook his head vehemently. He'd prided himself on the fact that he hadn't taken any money from Diana. It had been hard to make sure he would have enough money for college, but he'd managed to save up the money he needed. His father may have abandoned him, but he was still a Winchester, he still had the infamous Winchester pride. "I have scholarships paying for tuition and the dorm room. Everything else I get from tutoring and hustling pool. I didn't take any of her money, I swear."
John eyed him for a long moment before nodding. There was a small glimmer of pride in his gaze for a fraction of a second, gone before Spencer could be sure that it had ever really been there at all. "Good. You… keep up the good work. I need to get back to my boys."
Spencer remained where he was standing as John left, steadfastly ignoring how much it hurt to have John exclude him so obviously. He'd known that John no longer saw him as part of the family, but hearing such an obvious statement still hurt. It wasn't the first time John ignored the fact that Spencer was also one of his sons, but every time made him want to lash out. Family was supposed to matter more than anything else, that's what Dean had always told him and Sam when they were younger. To see John ignore that made Spencer wonder if all the times he'd told the boys that they had to keep each other safe were lies. Collapsing on his bed, Spencer pulled out his notebook and a pen. He needed to write a few letters before he headed to his night class.
Dear Sam and Dean,
Dad came to visit me today. Is it wrong that I hate his visits more each year? I can't help it. He doesn't believe that I'm any good at anything, that I'm worth anything.
I miss you both. I know that we've all changed in the six years since dad sent me away, but you're still my brothers. You're still the people who matter most to me in the world.
I will become a hunter, a good one. I will be able to fight with you, to defend you and protect you. No matter how hard it is, I will join you. I'm already learning Latin, Greek, and Sumerian, and memorizing all the hunting lore Bobby can throw at me. Someday I'll be hunting with you like I'm meant to.
I miss you,
Spencer
Spencer ignored the collective groans around him as he laid his cards on the table and gathered the pile of cash in front of him. The beginning of the year poker game had become a tradition since his freshman year, five years ago. Every year the freshmen underestimated him because he was younger than them, because he wasn't as social as they were. Without fail, Spencer won every game and walked away with all the money. Even though he was now working on his second doctorate, Spencer was not above swindling a new group of freshmen out of their summer savings. It wasn't his fault they were naïve enough to underestimate him. He saw it as a learning opportunity for people who'd never left the security of home before. College was a tough place if they failed to learn to adapt and survive.
Grabbing his bag and stuffing the money inside, Spencer headed to his dorm room, leaving the sounds of a party in full swing behind him. He had better things to do than participate in a drunken orgy, as these parties were wont to turn into. Hauling out his safe, Spencer counted the money, a satisfied smile on his face as he locked it up and hid it again. He'd won a pretty significant amount this year. With the money he'd saved up from tutoring and past poker games, he should be able to pay for Diana's next year at Bennington and cover Sammy's tuition for the semester. Money would be tight for Spencer himself, but he'd survived on less. Taking care of Diana and Sam was important to him.
Diana was the only mother Spencer had ever known, and she was the best mother he could ask for. When John had left him on Diana's doorstep, Spencer had been angry and rebellious. Diana had never lost patience with him; she'd simply waited for the day that the seven year old realized no one would be coming to take him back to his brothers. When that day came, Diana had wrapped her arms around Spencer, whispering promises of love and devotion to the heartbroken little boy.
Diana was the one who taught Spencer about hunting, revealing to him the Campbell family history. She had Spencer read all the old legends of unexplained things as practice, a learning exercise so that Spencer would know what he was dealing with in any situation he might face. Because of Diana, Spencer's knowledge of the supernatural had long ago surpassed Bobby's.
When Diana's schizophrenia had started to get worse, Spencer had known it was only a matter of time before he needed to institutionalize her. Years of researching different sanitariums had shown him that only Bennington, a sanitarium in Vegas, would give him the freedom to ensure that his mother was protected from both her own mind and the things that go bump in the night. Even though it was one of the more expensive sanitariums, Diana's safety was worth the world to Spencer. She was all he had as long as John insisted that he stay away from his brothers. If there was one lesson Spencer had learned in his life, it was that he would do anything for family, even if he had to make sacrifices himself.
The phone call Spencer had received when Sammy left for Stanford was the last one he had expected. Rather than hearing Bobby's gruff but amicable voice, John Winchester had been on the other end. John had told him that Sam had run away to go to college and ordered him to take care of his brother, insulting him in the same breath. Spencer knew what John had meant by the order, that John wanted Sam to go back to hunting and forget about college, but he'd interpreted it in his own manner. Rather than fetch Sam and send him home, Spencer had hitched a ride to Palo Alto and arranged to pay for Sam's schooling himself. If his brother wanted to go to school, Spencer was ready to do anything he needed to in order to make sure that Sam achieved his dream. Sam deserved the chance to break free from the world of hunting if he wanted to.
He'd thought of visiting Sam at school, of checking to see how his twin was doing, what he was like now that they were more grown up. He'd even arranged a ride to take him up to the Stanford campus. When he got there, Spencer had wandered around aimlessly for a few hours before he found Sam, spotted him walking with a classmate towards the library. Seeing Sam happy after eleven years of separation had hurt more than Spencer thought it would. Before he could work up the courage to approach his brother and dredge up years of history, Spencer had forced himself to turn around and return to the car. Sam had grown up. Being reminded of the brother who disappeared wouldn't do him any good. When he got back to Pasadena, Spencer had locked away the notebooks filled with letters to Sam and Dean, promising himself that he would never send them to his brothers. He would protect them, keep them out of prison, but he wouldn't force himself back into their lives. Eleven years was a long time, after all, and they'd probably done their best to forget about him.
"Bobby told me that you're interested in joining the FBI," Spencer looked up from the chessboard he'd been studying and blinked owlishly at the stranger standing across from him. He'd never seen the man before, and he couldn't think of anyone Bobby said might be visiting Southern California. "May I?" The man waited for Spencer's nod before sitting down and moving a white pawn. Once the move was complete, he glanced up at Spencer and smiled politely. "I apologize, I should've introduced myself. My name is Jason Gideon. I work for the BAU."
Spencer toyed with one of his own pawns before moving it forward and looking up again. This was an unexpected development, to say the least. Usually, if Bobby sent someone to talk to him it was because they needed help researching a monster, not because they were one of the first hunters to successfully pursue a career in law enforcement. All of a sudden, everything made sense. "You're the hunter. Bobby told me that there was one but I never thought I'd be meeting you this soon. I'm not even old enough to go to the Academy. Why are you here?"
Gideon smiled, and leaned forward, hunching his shoulders slightly. "Believe it or not, I'm not here searching you out. The FBI has all the elite teams do recruitment tours. One of my colleagues and I are touring all of the schools in California. We're doing a lecture tonight, if you want to come. I think you could really fit in with the BAU if you're interested. Regardless of your age, I'd like to see you on my team. Your reputation, proceeds you, Spencer Reid," Gideon smiled again at Spencer's look of shock. "You have potential to be a great profiler, kid. I just want to give you that chance."
In a state of mild shock, Spencer rubbed one finger along the edge of the chessboard. He hadn't told anyone outside of the university that he'd changed his name on his eighteenth birthday, wanting to avoid having John Winchester's name on his doctorates. Telling Bobby would've sparked a lecture on how he was being an idjit and telling John had never been an option. If Gideon knew that, he'd done his research, which meant that he really wanted Spencer for the BAU, not that he was talking to him as a favor to Bobby. The opportunity he was offering was exactly what Spencer had been hoping for for years. The chance to help catch human serial killers while keeping his brothers safe was one he'd been dreaming about since he'd learned that it was an option. He would have to be an idiot to pass it up. Making his next move, Spencer spoke up. "What about my brothers? You know who I am, so you know who they are and what they do. I intend to do everything in my power to keep them out of jail. Will that be a problem for you?"
"If they don't kill any humans then we won't have a problem." Gideon snorted at Spencer's surprised look. "You aren't the first hunter I've recruited for the FBI, nor are you the first to want to keep family members out of prison for hunting. I've helped several people in similar circumstances. There are more of us than you'd think. Hunters are disciplined enough that if they really want to, they make fine FBI agents. If you were to join the BAU, you would have the resources of the FBI at your disposal, within reason. That includes one of the greatest technical geniuses I've ever met, an up and coming researcher of all things supernatural. There would be plenty of tools available to you to keep your brothers out of the system. What do you think? Is it something that you're interested in?"
"I think," Spencer smiled slowly, "I would be a fool to turn down what could very well be a once in a lifetime offer. What do I need to do to get enrolled in the Academy?"