All That Is Not Mine
Summary: Reid contemplates fatherhood while babysitting Henry after losing Maeve. Reid is sad. Henry is perceptive. Sad fluffy one-shot. R/M
Genre: Angst, Family
Set just after 'Magnum Opus,' spoilers through 9x01. Title inspired by 'Smother' by Daughter.
He'd never spent much time with children before Henry came along. At first, he was nervous about the 'Reid effect' scaring baby Henry away. But as months passed, his anxiety was replaced by affection and he began to look forward to experiencing life with Henry. As his godson's comprehension and vocabulary grew, he'd been growing more interesting every day.
The scientist in him thrilled to have a pupil excited about every new and wonderful thing in the world. Although his team regularly cut off his rambling lectures about his latest fascinations, to Henry, every discovery was exciting. Reid had to stop often mid-ramble to make sure he was using age-appropriate vocabulary and concepts, but that in itself was intriguing. Contextualizing his ideas to make sense to a preschooler's developing mind was a challenge unlike anything he'd experienced before, and some part of him looked forward to the day when he might teach classes of his own.
But though JJ let him have a mostly free hand with Henry, he knew that there were many roles he could never fill in his godson's life. He respected her too much to intrude into Will's rightful place as father.
So he had cultivated a secret longing in his heart for the day when the bundle coming home from the hospital would be his; for the adventure of raising and teaching his own child - or children - alongside the formidable woman whose zeal for knowledge and life would mirror his own.
At last, he had found that woman, and the dream seemed closer than ever.
And then...
Reid shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath as cords of grief tightened about his ribcage. He bent over and rested his forehead in his hands.
Statistically speaking, so long as JJ remained a field agent and Will remained a detective, he stood a greater than average chance getting his shot at fatherhood by inheriting Henry.
His stomach twisted and bile rose in his throat. Reid clenched his jaw and shook his head, guilt crashing over him for possessing the dark thought - even for an instant.
Besides, if he were using past examples as a precedent, he was far more likely to die an early death.
His breathing hitched. Some father he'd make. Reid had been shot (twice, now), kidnapped, blown up, tortured, in and out of a serious drug addiction, exposed to anthrax, and on top of all that, he bore a genetic predisposition to debilitating mental illness. Given all he'd been through, who knew if he would be able to have children, anyways?
Reid dug his fingers into his scalp, squeezing his eyes tight shut.
"You look sad, Uncle Spence."
Jolted from his black thoughts, Reid looked up just as the couch cushion dipped under the weight of the pajama-clad preschooler clambering beside him. He scrubbed his hand across his face, forcing rebellious lips into something hopefully resembling a smile.
"You're supposed to be sleeping, buddy." Reid said in a chiding tone, doing his best to hold the line as the responsible adult in the house.
Tiny fingers lifted his arm, making room for a blond head burrow into his side. Henry wrapped Reid's arm around him like a blanket. "Too dark to sleep."
Heart heavy, he found himself unwilling to argue the point. Reid reached to the end of the couch and fetched a blanket, spreading it over the boy as best he could.
"Mommy says it's okay to cry when you're sad." Henry said quietly, peering up at him with eyes as blue as his mother's.
The smile slipped for a second as he debated lying to his godson's face. No, this was too much for one this young to bear. "Don't worry about me, Henry. I'm fine."
Perhaps it was because he was the son of two law enforcement officers, perhaps it was knowing Reid from birth. Whatever the reason, Henry pouted and looked away. "Don't believe you. You always say 'I'm fine' when you're hurt."
Man, Henry would make a great profiler, he mused as the pit fell out of his stomach. Buying time while he scrambled for a proper response, Reid stammered, "W-Why would you say that?"
His godson's gaze wandered back to him, his words sharp with the honesty of childhood. "That's what you told me all summer last year."
Right, the summer he'd spent crying on JJ's doorstep about Emily. Surely some of those memories had to make it past the barrier of childhood amnesia. Reid had a moment of blended pride and panic: pride in Henry's perception and intellectual development, panic in his inability to explain himself to a preschooler. "You're right. I'm sorry. I guess I just don't have a word for what I'm feeling."
Hollow. Lost. Sepulchral.
Good words, but not quite... complete.
"Because your friend died?"
One simple phrase, so innocently spoken, and the blood drained from his face. He'd anticipated JJ warning Henry somehow, but not offering the whole truth. His breath caught in his throat at the childish summation. However, an honest question deserved an honest answer. Reid nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat.
Henry pulled Reid's arm tighter to him, looking up at the ceiling. "Mommy's sister is dead. So's Daddy's daddy. They don't talk 'bout it, but I know they get sad sometimes."
There was quiet in JJ's living room as the clock ticked on towards nine.
"Uncle Spence, what happens when we die?"
His throat went dry and he thought back to his own near-death experience, to those he'd loved and lost, to countless words he'd read on the subject since losing Maeve. "I've got a bunch of ideas, buddy, but the truth is, I don't really know. What do you think?"
Henry chewed on his lip for a moment, thinking hard. "I think that Auntie and Grandpa and your friend are all together. Just like Christmas morning, everybody's together and they're all happy. No more saying g'bye. No more business trips, 'cause there's nowhere else you'd wanna go." His blue eyes sparkled as he thought of something important to add. "Plus, also, everybody has a Disneyworld in their basement."
Reid chuckled in spite of himself. He ruffled his godson's long blond hair, soft brown eyes bright with moisture. His voice trembled as he replied, "That sounds pretty good to me."
Maybe he didn't have his own family. He still had this moment, making shadow puppets on the wall and narrating bedtime stories from memory until Henry's breathing evened out enough for his godfather carry him back to bed.
For today, that would be enough.
I volunteer with groups of adorable preschoolers every week. After seeing some of the Henry episodes for the first time, I couldn't not write this. I have a huge paper due in six hours and I put this fic first because (a) being in university doesn't make you smart and (b) I had to get it out!
Review with a prompt if you'd like more godfatherly fluff. If my time management skills continue to suck, I might do another.
Don't write the story. Live the story.