Author's Note: First one-shot in the post-Conundrum series. Superstes - where Spencer contemplates and gets his first tattoo, keeping it a secret from the team.
Spencer Reid had been through hell and back on multiple occasions, both on the job and in his personal life. He'd survived his father leaving, taking care of his mother, a drug addiction for a short amount of time, kidnappings, beatings, a hostage situation, being shot, and several inner demons. He'd finally found a place in his life where he was happily married with a child and wanted a way to show that he'd been through everything and survived it all.
Shortly before Spencer made his decision, he sat at the kitchen table with Derek, enjoying a cup of coffee. He was looking at the tattoos on Derek's bare arms, paying attention to every last detail.
Derek raised an eyebrow. "Enjoying yourself, Pretty Boy?" he asked, taking a sip and setting his cup down.
Spencer snapped out of it, glancing up at him. "Just looking. Is the person who did those for you local?"
He glanced down at his tattoos. "Mhm, he lives a few blocks from my old apartment. Why, are you interested in one?"
He shrugged. "I'm curious more than anything. Did you know that the first documented tattoo artist in the United States was Martin Hildebrandt, who was a German immigrant in Boston in the year 1846, and he tattooed soldiers during the civil war?"
Derek laughed softly. "I do now."
Since they'd gotten married, Spencer had definitely cut down on his rambling, mainly because with Derek, he was in a comfort zone where he didn't feel the need to spurt random facts and fill voids in conversations. However, when the facts did slip, Derek enjoyed it, especially seeing how embarrassed Spencer would get.
"Did you also know that many tattoos can serve as rites of passage, marks of status or rank, symbols of religious devotion, pledges of love, or decorations of bravery, among other things?"
Derek cocked an eyebrow, looking across the table at his husband. "…You're thinking about getting a tattoo, aren't you?"
He shrugged. "I've been thinking about it. Like I said, tattoos can signify decorations of bravery, and I've been through a lot in my 32 years. What better way to show where I've been than something on my body to serve as a permanent reminder that yes, I've been through a lot, but I never have to go back there because I'm better than that?"
Derek grabbed the mugs, walking over to the coffee maker and refilling them. "What did you have in mind? Something everyone can see?"
Spencer shook his head. "No, not really. I'm not you – I can't pull off something taking up my entire bicep. I just want something small, right here." He unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it off of his left shoulder. He pointed to a small scar where he'd been shot on a case a while back.
He walked over, setting the coffee mugs on the table, putting the sugar dish beside Spencer. "You don't like your scar?"
He shrugged, putting in a few spoonfuls of sugar and stirring. "Well, the scar itself is a constant reminder of me being a survivor. Even though the vest was on at the time, had the bullet gone over a few inches, I probably wouldn't be here today."
"And trust me, I'm extremely grateful that the unsub had shitty aim."
Spencer smiled, running a finger over the scar. "It's just going to be a word. Nothing elaborate, and of course, not something everyone will get the chance to see."
"Are you going to tell anyone about this?"
He shrugged. "I don't see why my body art should be anybody else's business. I'll know it's there, you'll know it's there, our daughter will know it's there. Other than that, I fail to see a reason why anyone needs to know about it."
"Okay, I'll bite. What word?"
Spencer took a long sip of his coffee, setting the cup back down. "Superstes. It's the Latin translation of-"
"Superstar?" Derek guessed.
Spencer smiled, shaking his head. "Great guess, but no. Superstes is the Latin translation of the word 'survivor'. I don't think there's any word out there more appropriate."
"When do you want to get this done?"
"The sooner the better, I guess. Can you call your artist and see when he has an opening?"
"Go wake the princess, I'll see if we can get in Saturday for our date night. I'll just need you to write down what you want it to say, because there's no way I can spell that. Also, I need ideas for fonts."
Spencer got up, opening a drawer in the kitchen and taking out a note pad. He grabbed a pen and wrote out the word, simply writing 'no comic sans' underneath it with several underlines. He handed the notepad to him and walked to Parker's room, picking her up. "Well, good morning to you, Princess."
She shook her head, burying it in his chest. "Early."
He laughed softly, kissing the top of her head. "I feel your pain."
That day at work, Spencer sat at his desk, going through the case files on his desk. He looked across his desk at Emily, whose pile was significantly larger than his.
"Once I reach the bottom of this, I'd be glad to take some of those off your hands," he offered, eyes still on his folder.
She smirked. "And that's why you're my hero, Reid. If I can still call you that – you are married now, after all."
He rolled his eyes. "It's still my last name, so yes, you can call me Reid. We already have a 'Morgan' on the team, and I really don't want to cause any confusion."
"Then Reid it is." She grabbed a chunk of folders, tossing them over to his desk. "Be my guest."
He added the folders to his pile as Derek walked over, leaning against his desk.
"Yes, dear?" he asked, setting his folder down.
He held one out to him. "That case you wanted me to look at for you? They got back to me."
Spencer raised an eyebrow, but finally caught on. He grabbed it, opening it and looking through. He saw the word written out in different fonts and saw one that was perfect. He grabbed a highlighter off his desk, highlighting it and handing it back to him. "Thank you."
"Anytime, kid." He hit his shoulder with the folder, walking back to his office.
"What was that about?" Emily asked.
He had to think something up quickly. "I needed a second set of eyes on the case – I did it on Friday before we left, and my mind was more on picking Parker up than getting through the case file correctly."
"Right, I forgot how quickly you go into Daddy mode when it comes to her."
He nodded, grabbing one of her folders. "Just so you know? You and Morgan have yet to pay me back for reading all of those unsub's journals during the case in Tallahassee."
She rolled her eyes. "Sometimes, I hate your memory."
After they'd put Parker to bed that night, Spencer sat up in their bed, reading.
"Is Saturday afternoon okay with you?" Derek asked, pulling on his pajama pants and climbing on the bed beside him.
Spencer shrugged. "Saturday afternoon is fine. JJ offered to take her for the day so we can get an early date done and be 'that boring married couple that stays in'. Her words, not mine."
Derek shook his head. "If she realized even half the beast you are in this bed, she wouldn't be calling us the boring married couple."
He groaned, reaching over and covering his husband's mouth. "And she never will realize."
"Stop leaving marks," he said, muffled against his hand.
Spencer smirked, glancing down at him. "Stop having bitable skin." Derek rolled his eyes, licking his hand. Spencer groaned, wiping the hand on the comforter. "I swear, sometimes it feels like I'm the adult in this relationship."
Derek smirked. "But you love me anyway."
"Sometimes I wonder," he said, tucking his bookmark on his current page and setting the book on his nightstand, taking off his glasses.
"You do realize that tattoos hurt, right?"
"No, Derek, I thought that tattoos were licked on by kittens."
He smiled. "JJ made you watch Friends again, didn't she?"
"On the last case, yes she did. But of course I know that tattoos hurt. In case you've forgotten? I've been shot and hit multiple times on the job. I was shot in the leg and kept a conversation going. Not to mention I've also gone through labor before. Do you really think I'm going to let a tattoo get to me? It's not like it's going to be on a bone or anything. Yes, it's going to be over a scar so it's going to hurt to a certain extent, but the skin isn't raised enough for it to make a significant difference in the ink taking to the skin."
He raised an eyebrow. "Exactly how long did you research this?"
Spencer thought to himself. "I have been since right after Parker was born."
"And you're positive that's what you want, and it's the exact translation? I don't want you to get it and find out later that what you think is 'survivor' means 'turkey soup'."
"Are you really questioning me about the meaning of a word, Derek? Really?" He put his glasses on top of his book, turning off the light on his nightstand and curling closer, resting his head on his chest.
"Good point." He observed, leaning his head down and kissing his forehead. "Then I guess Saturday, I'll have not only taken your actual virginity, but your tattoo one as well."
Spencer scrunched up his face, hitting him on the chest. "Shut up."
Saturday morning, after they got Parker dressed, they dropped her off at JJ's.
"So," JJ started, picking up Parker and resting her on her hip, "what's in the game plan for you two today?"
Derek smirked. "The usual. Getting him tattooed."
Spencer's eyes widened, looking over at him.
"Funny, Derek," she said, swatting at his arm. "What are you really doing, and is it safe for your daughter to hear?"
"It's perfectly fine for my daughter to hear that it's none of your business."
She glanced at Parker. "Do you know what they're doing?"
She nodded. "Too too."
JJ raised an eyebrow. "What's a too too?"
"Like Derek said. None of your business. When do you need us to pick her up?"
"Whenever, there's no rush. I might take her out shopping with me."
Parker's ears perked up at the word 'shopping'. "Yay!"
Spencer leaned over, kissing her forehead. "Have fun, Princess."
She nodded, blowing a kiss to both of them before they left.
In the car, Derek turned to Spencer. "Too too?"
"I never talked about tattoos in front of her, Derek. That only leaves one option – your big mouth."
Derek smirked. "You never had a problem with my big mouth bef-"
Spencer cupped a hand over his mouth. "Now I do. Lick it and you'll be on the couch."
When they pulled up to the tattoo parlor, Derek turned to him. "Now you're sure? You don't need to get a tattoo."
"I know I don't need to. I want to - it's a homage to everything I've been through that shows me what I've been and what I've overcome. That's as good a reason as any to get one." He reached over, unbuckling his seatbelt.
"Do you want me to hold your hand?"
Spencer rolled his eyes. "If you'd like me to hold your hand, I will." He got out of the car, following him inside. He had to say that the place wasn't what he expected. He'd expected to see something out of the movies that he watched with Derek, complete with bikers and pictures of different tattoo designs all over the walls. It was much cleaner and simpler. He sat down on the couch, flipping through one of the magazines, while Derek walked up to the desk.
"Pretty Boy, come on up here."
Spencer set down the magazine, getting up and walking over to the desk.
"You're right, Derek, your daughter looks just like him."
"Told you, she got it all from him."
Spencer cleared his throat. "Derek forgets how to do introductions. Not one of the reasons I married him."
Morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry, Pretty Boy. Tony, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is Tony – he's done all of my tattoos."
Spencer held out his hand, shaking the one held out to him. "Nice to meet you."
Tony grabbed the stencil, showing it to Spencer. "Derek was very specific about this – spelling, font, size, positioning, and color."
"It's perfect, thank you."
"If you're all set, come on back and let's get started."
Derek grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "You okay?"
Spencer rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Derek." They walked to the back room, where Spencer unbuttoned his shirt and sat back in the chair. Derek sat on his right side, taking his hand and lacing their fingers.
"I can't believe the great and pure Spencer Reid is getting a tattoo. It's kind of badass."
Spencer smirked. "I'm pretty sure that's the first time 'Spencer Reid' and 'badass' have been said in the same sentence."
Tony set the stencil on his shoulder, peeling off the backing. "How does that look, Spencer?"
He glanced down at his shoulder. "Fine by me and in just the right spot."
"Then let's get started."
After the gun turned on, Spencer hummed, leaning his head back. When the tattoo was started, he didn't even flinch.
"What are you feeling, Spencer?" Derek asked, squeezing his hand.
He resisted the urge to shrug his shoulders. "Not sure. It's just sort of an annoying buzzing more than anything. I pretty much pushed the pain aside and all that's getting to me is the sound."
"You're a lot more of a trooper than Derek. I've had him cry in this chair."
Spencer glanced over at him. "Oh?"
"That's enough," Derek said quickly, watching him finish the first layer of ink.
Spencer kept his eyes on the ceiling, humming to himself as it was finished up. He glanced down when he was told it was done. "That's it?"
Derek looked at him. "What did you think it was going to be like?"
"I'm not sure. The way people talk about their tattoos, I was expecting pain comparable to child birth. This was nothing in comparison."
"It's going to sting for a few hours," Tony explained, putting the bandage over and taping it on. "Let the bandage stay on there for 2-3 hours, and be sure to pat it clean with a dampened cloth. Put on some healing ointment, and expect it to be irritated for the next day or so."
Spencer nodded, looking down at the bandage. "No problem." He froze, glancing over at Derek. "What do we tell Parker?"
"You're the genius, I'm sure you'll come up with something."
After they finished at the tattoo parlor, they'd gone out to lunch. Spencer checked his watch while they were on their way to JJ's and peeled the bandage off, wincing slightly.
"Everything okay over there?" Derek asked, keeping his eyes on the road.
"You try ripping a bandage off of skin without it hurting in the slightest."
"So you're not in pain?"
Spencer shrugged. "I have a high pain tolerance, I didn't feel a thing."
"Seriously?"
"…Seriously."
When they arrived at JJ's, Spencer turned to Derek. "Not a word."
Derek sighed. "Fine, but she's practically your sister and reads you like a book. She's going to find out."
"I'd rather later than sooner." He got out of the car, walking to the front door and knocking.
JJ opened it, looking at him. "Will just took Henry and Parker up to the park. Do you want to go get her there or wait?"
Spencer thought to himself. "I'm fine waiting here."
She held the door open, allowing them to walk inside.
They sat on the couch and JJ raised an eyebrow. "What did you do to your shoulder, Spence?"
"What?" He looked down and saw he hadn't fully buttoned his shirt up, leaving part of the reddened skin on his shoulder exposed. "That? It's the scar from getting shot, it's nothing."
She leaned forward. "Spence, in case you forgot, I've seen the scar before. That's not it."
He turned to Derek. "Busted?"
"So busted."
He sighed, turning back to JJ. "Not a word to the rest of the team, promise?"
She held up her hand. "Promise."
He unbuttoned his shirt, letting it slide down his arms. She looked at his shoulder and gasped. "Spencer Reid has a tattoo?!"
He blushed. "It's not that big of a deal."
"Superstes? What does that mean, superstar?"
"No, I didn't get the word superst- does nobody know Latin?!" He saw the confused look on JJ's face and the amused one on Derek's. "Why would I get superstar tattooed on me? How is that logical?"
"Okay then, smarty pants, what does it mean?"
He rolled his eyes. "It's the Latin word for survivor."
She raised an eyebrow. "How fitting."
He glanced over at Derek. "See? She understands."
"Did it hurt?" she asked, taking the seat beside him to get a better look at it.
"He didn't even flinch," Derek explained. "Just sat there the entire time."
"What can I say? I don't really process pain." He put his shirt back on, buttoning it.
"Consider yourself lucky, Spence. I'm sure Derek wishes he could say the same for his body art."
When they got home, Derek started dinner while Spencer went to the bathroom to clean up his shoulder. He looked down on the sink and saw that Derek had picked up healing cream for him – he'd have to thank him for that later. He grabbed a clean cloth and soaked it with warm water, patting his shoulder lightly and wincing.
Derek knocked on the door. "Everything okay in there?"
Spencer bit his lip, closing his eyes. "Yeah, everything's fine. The healing process is definitely worse than the actual act."
"I guess you could say the same about-"
"Derek Morgan, do not finish that sentence. I don't want to hear about sex with you, hangovers, pregnancy, or anything else going on in that perverted mind of yours. Our daughter is in the house and the last thing I need is her asking what something you say means."
He smirked. "So that means you don't want to do anything tonight?"
Spencer opened the door, glaring at him. "That means get in here and put healing cream on my shoulder, or spend the night on the couch."
Derek shook his head, walking in and closing the door.
"Where's Parker?"
"She's down for a nap in her room." He motioned toward the baby monitor clipped to his belt. "We'll know if she gets up."
Spencer nodded, grabbing the tube off the counter and handing it to him. He looked at Spencer's shoulder, where the skin was bright red. He opened the tube, putting some of the cream on his fingers.
"You know, I didn't think you could get any sexier, then you got that on your shoulder."
Spencer smiled slightly as he rubbed the cream on. "Yes, because who doesn't find a beanpole whose shoulder looks like a mild sunburn the most attractive thing on the face of the earth?"
Derek washed his hands, drying them off. He then hooked a finger under Spencer's chin, looking him in the eyes.
"Yes, dear?" Spencer asked.
"I happen to find you very attractive." He leaned in, kissing his cheek. "And I never want to hear you say anything bad about yourself again."
"But-"
"But nothing."
Spencer sighed. "Fine. It's your turn to choose date night, what are we doing?"
"After dinner? A movie and then maybe some dessert later in the night."
Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Dessert? But, Derek, you can't bake. The one time you attempted, I had to take out the fire extinguisher. Besides, we shouldn't be eating so late at night-"
Derek shook his head, kissing him softly. "Not that kind of dessert."
Spencer thought to himself. "Not that kind of," he saw the look that Derek was giving him. "OH. Derek, our daughter is in the house!"
"She'll be asleep, and we'll be quiet, or at least I will be."
Spencer smirked, hitting his arm. "I can stay quiet just fine, thank you."
After they'd put Parker to bed, Spencer laid on Derek's side of the bed, considering he couldn't sleep on his left side without worrying about his shoulder. He turned to Derek, tracing the tattoo on his arm.
"What's the story behind yours?" he asked, looking up into his eyes.
"Hm?"
"You know the meaning behind mine. What about yours?"
"Well," he started, "there's one recent one that means more than anything."
"Oh?"
He sat up, pulling off his shirt and showing him his side. On his left side, right above his hips, was a tattoo that Spencer hadn't noticed before. He smirked, tracing it with his finger. It was Parker's name, arched above her newborn footprint, with July 6, 2011 written underneath.
"When did you get this?" he asked, tracing the footprint. "And why here?"
Derek smirked. "A few months ago and because, I know one day we'll have another kid, so I have the other side free for theirs to match hers."
Spencer bit his lip. "Derek, we've been trying for a couple months and nothing's happened-"
"And knowing how determined you are, it's going to happen. And after it does, and he or she makes an appearance, they're going to be right here," he explained, pointing to his other side. "But if it's twins-"
"Bite your tongue!" Spencer said, hitting his arm. "My body would cave in at the pressure of carrying around two kids! I barely made it through carrying one without breaking in half."
Derek laughed softly, cutting off his rant by kissing him, running a hand through his hair.
A minute later, Spencer pulled back, slightly hazy. "…. So, what was I saying?"
"And just like that," Derek said, snapping his fingers, "the IQ drops."
Spencer blushed, biting his lip. "You're the only person on this planet with the ability to do that."
"Well, now I know I was put on this earth to drive you crazy."
"You're lucky I love you."
"Am I?"
"Mhm." He leaned in, kissing his neck softly, nipping at it. "I really hope you plan on any neck tattoos, because I have way too much fun with it."
Derek bit his lip, unable to contain himself and moaning softly.
"Now who's the loud one?" Spencer whispered, kissing the bite marks.
"You're going to be the death of me, Spencer Reid."
Spencer smirked. "And don't you forget it."
At work on Monday morning, Spencer sat at his desk and tried not to make his secret obvious. He also attempted to ignore the constant itching on his shoulder, and it wasn't going very well. He tried shrugging, he tried rolling his shoulder, and he tried simply ignoring it: none of the methods were proving to be effective.
When most of the team had left for lunch, he dug through his bag, taking out the tube of cream and shoving it into his pocket.
"I saw that!" Garcia said, walking over to his desk.
He winced, turning around in his chair to face her. "Saw what?"
"You think you can hide something from me, Spencer Reid? For shame. Don't think I didn't see that move."
He raised an eyebrow. "Move?"
"You going through your bag? I saw you!"
"Saw me?"
"Honey, did you fall and hit your head? I saw you dig through your bag and I saw new pictures of your adorable daughter that you have yet to share. Now give them to me and nobody gets hurt." She held out her hand, waiting.
He exhaled, relieved. "I can't get anything past you, Garcia." He opened his bag back up, taking out the stack of photos and handing it to her.
"That you can't." She leaned against his desk, flipping through the pictures. She smirked, showing one of her covered in finger paint. "Can I have this one?"
"All yours. There's also one in there that she calls herself 'Penny' in. She attempted to dress herself just like you and… you just have to see it."
She flipped through the pictures and found the one in question. "O.M.G. I love her more. I didn't know it was possible, but I totally love her so much more than I already did. She's so perfect!"
He smirked. "I'm glad you love her so much. Be sure to share those with JJ, she's been begging me for new pictures."
"I'm on my way to meet her for lunch now, and I will do, 187." She stuffed the pictures into her purse and walked out.
Once he saw the coast was finally clear, he walked to the bathroom, setting the cream on the counter and unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off of his shoulder and wincing. He unscrewed the cap, putting some of it on his finger and rubbing it onto the skin. He'd expected the tattoo itself to hurt and the aftermath to be painless, but got the exact opposite.
"That's henna, right?"
He jumped slightly, closing the cap and looking over at Rossi. "Excuse me?"
"Your shoulder. I've known you for five years, kid, you're definitely not the type to be getting a tattoo."
He shrugged, patting some of the cream off and washing his hands. "I'm not the type for a lot of the things I've overcome."
Rossi raised an eyebrow, walking over and looking at his shoulder. "Superstes – survivor? Well that's… fitting."
"You're the first person who actually understood what it meant. Derek and JJ guessed 'superstar'." He buttoned up his shirt, fixing his tie.
"Not everyone can read Latin, Reid."
He smiled slightly. "Guess not. Listen, can you… not tell anybody? I really don't want to make a big deal about it."
"Well, if someone comes up to me and asks 'have you seen Spencer Reid's naked shoulder and does it have something on it?' I'm not sure I can lie my way out of that one."
He smirked. "Thank you." He shoved the tube back in his pocket, walking back to his desk.
It wasn't until a few years later that the rest of the team found out about his tattoo. Garcia had found out about its existence the previous year and had been hounding everybody nonstop about it, but nobody would cave. The summer after Spencer and Derek's son was born, they'd put a pool in the backyard. Derek invited everyone over for a pool party for Parker's birthday to break it in.
Spencer paced in their bedroom, playing with the hem of his shirt.
Derek walked in. "Everything okay?"
Spencer bit his lip. "Maybe I shouldn't go out there."
"Pretty Boy, you're a fish out of water. That's why we paid all that money to get a pool in the yard. You're telling me you're not going to use it?"
"I-I don't want people to see-"
"To see what, your tattoo? They're not going to judge you for it. It has meaning. It's not just a drunken mistake or anything."
He sighed. "No, I don't regret the tattoo. It's the scars I have a problem with."
"The scars?" Derek asked, raising an eyebrow. When he realized what he meant, he sighed. Spencer wasn't ashamed of his tattoo at all: he was ashamed of the marks on his bicep, where he'd injected himself with Dilaudid. "Spencer-"
"I just… I don't want any of them to think I'm weak."
"They won't. They know you haven't done it in what, eight years now?" Spencer nodded. "And they know you're not going to relapse. We all have our scars from the job, and nobody's going to judge you for them."
He paced the room one last time before grabbing the bottom of his shirt, pulling it off. "One word and it goes back on."
"Deal." He wrapped an arm around his back, walking to the back yard.
"Daddy!" Parker yelled, running over.
He bent down, picking her up. "Well, hello there. Have you been in the water yet?"
She shook her head. "We waited for you!"
He rested her against his hip. "So Aunt JJ put on your floaties?"
"Uh huh!" she held up her arms. "So I can float!"
"Good." He kissed her forehead, walking over to the pool and sitting on the steps.
Meanwhile, Morgan changed Benjamin into a swimming diaper and sat beside Spencer, setting Ben in a float. Once he got used to the water, Spencer set Parker in the shallow end. "Don't past the blue line, okay? Don't go in the deep end."
She nodded. "I promise."
JJ looked at Henry. "You too, buddy."
Henry saluted her before jumping in himself.
Spencer smirked, grabbing the front of Ben's float and dragging him around in the water.
"Sure you're ready for everyone to see that ink, Spence?" JJ said, motioning toward his shoulder.
He shrugged. "Now or never." He leaned down in the water, starting a game of peek-a-boo with Ben while tiptoeing along the bottom.
After everyone arrived, Spencer kept himself under the water, even after Derek had taken Benjamin out for a nap. Finally, he looked over at Parker. "Should Daddy let everyone see his too-too?"
She nodded. "Be a big boy, Daddy."
He smiled slightly, kissing her forehead. "Derek, grab me a towel?"
Derek waited at the ladder for him, towel in hand. Getting out, he quickly dried his arms off and wrapped it around his waist.
JJ smiled, looking at Parker. "I bet if we race to the ladder, you can beat me."
Parker nodded. "Okay!"
Spencer leaned back on his chair, watching as JJ 'raced' Parker and Parker made it to the steps first. He smirked when she started doing a victory lap and laid his chair back to dry off.
"Reid, did you let Parker draw on you again?" Hotch asked, pointing to his shoulder.
Spencer raised an eyebrow. "No, why-" he then realized what he was motioning toward. "Oh, that? It's a tattoo."
Garcia dropped her bag. "It's finally revealed?!"
Spencer sat up. "Go on, take it in."
Emily, Garcia, and Hotch all got a look at this shoulder.
"Superstes," Garcia stated, contemplating its meaning.
"It's Latin," Emily started. "It's 'survivor' in Latin."
Spencer reached over, wrapping a hand around his right forearm, hoping none of them would take notice of his scars. Luckily, they were all hooked on the idea of Spencer Reid having a tattoo.
"Of everyone on the team, I never would've guessed," Hotch said, putting his sunglasses back on.
"Isn't that where-"
"I got shot in the shoulder while pregnant? Yes." He pointed beneath the 'rs', where he could still see the scar.
"Daddy got shot!?" Parker yelled, shivering.
JJ picked her up. "Let's go, purple lips, out of the pool."
"When did Daddy get shot?!"
Derek wrapped her in a towel, picking her up. "While you were still in him. One of the villains hurt Daddy when he was trying to save some princes and princesses."
She gasped. "That's not nice."
"And that's why the villain is going to spend the rest of his life in the dungeon." He rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up, and set her on one of the chairs to dry off.
Garcia reached down, tracing the tattoo with her finger. "I have to admit, 187, that's pretty badass." She glanced over at Parker. "Never repeat that word."
Parker held out her hand. "Bad word. One dollar."
"House rules, Baby Girl," Morgan said, laughing softly.
"Hit me up later," she said, turning to look back at Spencer's shoulder. "Did you get this done on a vacation or something? There is no way you kept this hidden."
"In case you've forgotten, Garcia, he hid half of his first pregnancy from us. I'm pretty sure he'd be able to hide a little ink."
Spencer smirked. "I'm just that good."
A while later, he leaned back on his chair, looking at Derek's side. As promised, he had gotten a tattoo on his right side for Benjamin to match the one on his left side for Parker. He then looked down at his shoulder – he'd survived a lot of things alone, but now with a husband, two kids, and his extended family, he never had to again.
