I. And the Award Goes To…
"I'm so proud of the Kid." – Said Morgan as he stood in front of the mirror in the BAU's restroom beside Anderson, fastening his tie and checking to make sure he looked presentable enough to attend the prestigious ceremony that would take place in D.C. in just a bit over three hours. – "Who would have thought when he first joined and couldn't even walk down the stairs without tripping over his own two feet that he'd receive a Medal of Valor for his services this soon."
"Or that he'd live long enough to ever get one… Well, that's unexpected for sure." – Agreed the other man while he brushed an invisible hair off the jacket of his impeccable dress suit. – "The youngest agent ever getting an award… Hell: the youngest agent, period. Who would have thought? He's still not the right age to even be out of the Academy, let alone the member of the legendary BAU."
"He's certainly unique."
"And a celebrity. That's new too. Aside from Mulder and Scully, I've never heard of an FBI agent becoming a star."
Morgan couldn't help a giggle escaping.
"Just don't speak to him about that! You know, whenever he's reminded of all the publicity he has gained, I instantly forget all my doubts that he can hold his own in a fight; he immediately turns into a dangerous, fire-breathing dragon!"
"I know. He nearly took off Simons' head the other day just for mentioning one of the articles written about him. You know, the one that called him 'modern day Superman'."
The dark-skinned BAU agent made a face. He had been, of course, earwitness to the unfortunate incident with the rookie agent and Reid in the bullpen – along with everyone else in the vicinity. It hadn't been pretty. One thing was sure: the Kid had matured and learned a lot while they had been away, and could definitely stand up for himself now. He didn't even need his big brother protecting him anymore… Not that it would stop Morgan from trying, of course.
"Let's just hope today's event will be peaceful and void of unfortunate mishaps."
"I hear you. So: where is the hero himself?"
That, now that Morgan came to think of it, was a very good question indeed.
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"I said I wasn't going!" – Came the shouted declaration from inside Rossi's office where the youngest profiler had barricaded himself almost fifteen minutes ago, having refused to open the door ever since.
"And I said you are, young man! If the director wants to present you with a Medal then you'd better take it!" – Argued Hotch tiredly. There was something immensely annoying about talking to a locked door. The unit chief fought the urge to start cussing in a way that certainly wouldn't be fit for a man of his status and position, and chose to plead instead. In a way that also wasn't fit for him… Grr… Well, but he was dealing with Reid and this fact alone always called for special measures and excused the most idiotic proceedings. At least that was what he told himself. – "Come on, Spencer! Please. Let's just get this over with, all right? The bus is waiting."
"No!"
The boss sighed helplessly, feeling positively stupid standing there, powerless.
"Has he come out yet?" – Asked Rossi, joining his friend on top of the catwalk, refusing the acknowledge the junior agents gaping at them from the bullpen.
"No, he's still inside." – Groaned Hotch, before knocking forcefully again. – "Reid, open that door right NOW!"
Nothing.
"Aaron, I need my office: my jacket is in there!"
"Well, you won't need it if we don't go to the ceremony, will you?" – Rolled his eyes the unit chief. – "Besides, it's your fault. Why did you have to give him a key?"
"Who said anything about giving him a key? There's only one and it's right here." – The senior profiler said, patting his pocket.
"Then how…?"
Rossi shrugged.
"My best guess is that he pushed the couch against the door." – He said helpfully.
The unit chief only shook his head in disbelief.
"There's no way he could move it."
"But I told you he still trains with the Organized Crime Unit members!" – It was true. Him and Reid had found great friends in the five men they had spent their temporary assignment with and had been keeping in touch ever since. The special agents had seemingly made it their mission to toughen the kid up and teach him everything someone working in the FBI needed to know; like martial arts and sharpshooting. Okay, maybe even a bit more than what a profiler needed, but the boy seemed to enjoy his progress and hadn't stopped working with them even since they'd been back in Quantico. So, whenever both teams were home, he would meet with Dean, Ian, Walker, Simon and Marshall to work out. Most of the time, Rossi accompanied his young teammate as well – though he only watched, of course. There was no way he would make himself suffer without an official obligation to do so.
"Oh, of all the times he should start training!" – Lamented Hotch.
JJ joined them and looked between the two men with a curious expression.
"We should be going soon, it's nearly time for the bus to pick us up." – She said, trying to figure out what was going on with the two leaders of their team. – "What's up? Why are you standing here?"
Hotch just sighed again, feeling completely useless right now. It was Rossi who answered instead of him.
"It's all right, we're just waiting for the man of the day but we'll be down soon. You can head out and board the bus, okay?"
"Sure… If there's nothing we could help with?"
"No, no. It's all fine."
"Okay." – With a last shrug that looked just a tiny bit skeptical she was gone, getting the others and heading towards the elevators.
"I swear, Dave: I'm getting too old for this!" – The unit chief suddenly blurted out when they were finally alone. – "I'm either worried out of my mind for that boy or totally infuriated with him; he always gives me reason for one of these. I sometimes wish I could give him timeout like I can do with Jack whenever he's particularly whiny…"
The senior profiler took pity on his younger colleague and patted him on the shoulder to get him to take a few deep breaths.
"Aaron, calm down. Go and join the others; we'll be there in time. I promise."
The boss looked hopeful but also a bit unsure. He shot a tentative glance at the closed door before squeezing his eyes shut and shrugging.
"If you're sure you can handle it…"
"Of course I'm sure. Go on."
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When it was only Rossi alone, he knocked on the door.
"Kiddo, it's me."
"Go away!" – Came the simple but firm reply from inside.
"It's my office!"
"Oh… Okay then…" – There was the sound of shuffling feet then something heavy being pushed and the senior profiler knew instantly he had been right about the misuse of his couch. He just hoped it hadn't scratched the floor… As soon as the barricade disappeared, the owner of the place pushed the door open and stepped inside to find one Doctor Spencer Reid sitting on the ground again ('Wow, he can move swiftly.' – He thought.) with his knees drawn up tightly to his chest, arms intertwined over them as he hugged himself.
For lack of better phrase, the boy looked like a small, lost child; alone and scared. It made the older man's heart squeeze painfully, so he sat next to the young profiler with a low groan and draped an arm around him gently.
"Oh, Kiddo. What's wrong?"
"I don't want to do this!" – Sniffled the young man. – "Why can't people just get over what happened and leave me alone finally? Is that really too much to ask for!?"
"Normally, I'd even agree with you, but now? You're being awarded an official FBI Medal in D.C. by the director personally, Kiddo. It's not something others usually cry about… so: what's really wrong?"
"I don't know what you mean…"
"Aha. Try again. And how about with the truth this time?"
The boy looked at him long and thoughtfully, before he sighed and let himself relax a bit into his mentor's warm embrace.
"All right." – He took a deep breath and said the next words very quickly. – "It's just that in the letter of invitation stood we could invite our family. But I don't have…"
That was something along the lines Rossi had imagined. He enveloped the boy's bony shoulders, ignoring his own aching muscles as he sat on the uncomfortably hard and cold floor.
"Listen, Kiddo: you have your family here: Emily, JJ, Penelope, Derek and Aaron have already gone downstairs. Even Anderson and some people from the bullpen will attend. And our new friends will come, taking a bunch of pictures for later leverage to use against you, I'm afraid." – Success: Reid smiled a bit. – "You won't be alone; we're all so very proud of you!"
"I know and I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say I don't appreciate you! It's just that I tried asking mom and she… well. She still doesn't remember me so I wasn't even allowed to talk to her. The doctors said the meds should help but they don't. I think I've lost her forever."
"Don't say that, you can never know when she'll suddenly be better. And you'll always have us."
"I also wrote to Gideon but… he hasn't answered." – He whispered so quietly that the senior profiler had to really strain his ears to hear him. When he finally comprehended what he had heard, his heart gave another painful tug. This Kid would be his downfall if he continued like that!
"Oh, Reid! I'm sorry. I didn't know… I mean you said you'd answer him but I didn't know you invited him."
"I'm so stupid!" – The young man spat, voice full of hatred directed at himself. – "Why did I think he'd care? He left me without a goodbye and I didn't know about him for months! After that how could I believe that just because he wrote one letter; one lousy letter, mind you; anything could have changed!? WHY!?"
The senior profiler watched the young man he'd come to consider a son beat himself up about something that definitely wasn't his fault, and he silently cursed his oldest friend yet again. If such a thing as voodoo existed, Jason Gideon would scream in pain by now from all the times each BAU member had condemned him for hurting their youngest the way he had. And every time they'd thought he was over it finally, it turned out to have been false hope.
Rossi sighed sadly.
"No, Kiddo, it's not your fault. He wrote to you and you had a reason to believe he wanted to get in touch."
"No, he just wanted to get me again. He brought me here when he needed me here. Now, he needs me somewhere else. If I don't go; and I wrote him I wouldn't; he doesn't care anymore. Some genius and profiler I am to only now realize this." – The other man doubted it was this simple, though he could understand why Reid would feel that way. – "I'm pathetic and I certainly don't deserve a medal for that. Maybe I should be fired instead, since I'm evidently incapable to notice the most obvious things about a person." – The boy finished, pretending to be nonchalant about the whole thing, but failing miserably.
"Reid, let me tell you something about Jason you might not know. When his son, Stephen, was born, he was overjoyed; I know it's hard to imagine but believe me, he was like a little boy in the candy store. He loved his son and wife more than anything in life and he wanted the best for them. As a matter of fact, the whole idea of the BAU came because we wanted our families to live in a safer world. So, we worked. A lot. And while we worked, our wives left us, saying we were never at home with them. Does it sound familiar?"
"Yeah… Isn't that why Haley left Hotch?"
"Exactly. We all seem to fall into the same mistake. Anyway, his wife left, taking Stephen with her, just like Haley took Jack. But while Haley, now anyways, lets Aaron see his son whenever he wants to, Barbara didn't really want them to be in touch at all and did everything to alienate their son from his father."
The genius gasped.
"But why would she do that!?" – He asked horrified.
"According to her, it upset Stephen if the visitations weren't regular and preset."
Reid rolled his eyes.
"Let me guess: regular and preset isn't exactly compatible with our work schedule, and I bet it wasn't any different back then either."
"Bingo, Kiddo. He had every second weekend from 10:00 AM Saturday to 6:00 PM Sunday and the second half of the holidays. Whenever we were away on a case, he was sick or really if anything happened, and he couldn't make it on time, he lost the whole visitation right for that particular period and there was no way of compensating it at all. Even if he was just half an hour late, he was sent away with 'come back when your son has priority'."
The young profiler was visibly mortified.
"But that's a scandal! He should have gone to court!"
The older man nodded, arm still absent-mindedly draped around the youngster as they sat on the floor.
"Yes and he thought about it. I urged him to do so but by that time, Stephen was nine years old and quite difficult to handle. Thanks to Barbara's persistent intrigue, he mostly didn't even want to hear about his father. In the end, Jason had to admit it wouldn't do either of them any good if he fought and the court obligated his ex-wife to send their son more often; it would only have fueled the boy's mistrust and anger towards a father who 'hurt' his mother."
"So, he didn't do anything? Gideon just gave up!?" – Reid couldn't understand how his once greatest hero could ever have been so weak.
The senior profiler sighed. He had a good idea what the young man was thinking and knew he was trying to explain to him something he couldn't really understand. Not yet, anyway. He was simply too young and innocent, despite everything he had seen.
"Yes, he did. But Kiddo: things were different for him then. He wasn't 'The Jason Gideon, almighty profiler' yet, just a young, overworked agent trying to make something new within the FBI with his best friend. When he wasn't working, he was trying to build some kind of relationship with a son who looked at him as if he were a stranger. He said, the only thing he could do at that stage was to send as much money for his son's education and extracurricular activities as possible, to make sure he had everything he needed and to be there, should he want to talk one day…"
"And did Stephen want to? Talk, I mean."
"No. Not that I know of, at least but I must admit, I haven't talked to Jason for a very long time. I don't even know why…"
The boy shook his head.
"I still say he shouldn't have let it go so easily. You have to fight for your rights!"
"You'd think so. You're young and optimistic. Just promise me something: always stay that way." – Smiled the older agent. – "You know what I talked with Jason about the last time he called me?"
"No… What?"
"You."
"Me?" – The young man asked incredulously. – "Why would he talk to you about me when you hadn't even met me at that time?"
"Yes: you. I guess he had just encountered you at Caltech back then. He was fascinated and so excited! He told me he had never seen anyone like you before and that you would be the greatest agent one day. And he'd help you."
"He had helped meg. Before he left for good…"
Rossi thought about how he could speak his mind without making the youngster think he wasn't on his side and without breaking the promise he had given Hotch; namely never to tell anyone what the two of them had talked about a few months ago…
"Kiddo, come on: when he thought his son was better off without him, what did he do?"
"He let him be taken away." – Reid stated, still angry at the man and especially his ex-wife. He had never met Barbara Gideon but he sure as hell didn't want to change that.
"Yes. And then why do you think he left you? You, who are like a son to him as well?"
The boy suddenly looked up into the eyes of his mentor in alarmed as he stuttered.
"What? But… You mean…? What do you mean? Because it can't be, it doesn't make any sense! Why would he think it's for my own good that he left!? It's crazy!"
"Is it? Don't think with your genius mind, Reid, think with Jason's."
"And how do I do that?"
"Well, what happened before he left?"
"His girlfriend was killed."
"Yes, that too, and it had undoubtedly a great part of his feeling completely hopeless. But wasn't there something else…? Something that might weight heavily on his mind?"
"Look, if you mean my being tortured-"
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."
"Then you're wrong. He didn't even care enough to try to help me afterwards."
Rossi sighed.
"Kiddo… Just think about it a bit, okay? But now I think we have to go. You don't really want to miss the ceremony, do you? I mean, lots of people will be there just because of you."
"Yeah, whatever." – The boy shrugged, and got up from the floor.
Rossi groaned in pain as he started to do the same.
"A little help here… I'm not as fit as I used to be…"
"Maybe you should train with Dean and the others too." – Laughed the boy, grabbing the senior profiler's hand and pulling him upright with ease.
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Meanwhile, inside the bus the atmosphere was rather tense while they waited for the two missing profilers to make an appearance. Luckily, as they had needed quite a spacious vehicle to transfer all of them at once, the FBI had provided them with the most luxurious one they had. Given this fact, there was plenty of space for everyone and thus, there shouldn't have been any animosity between the two groups. Normally. This wasn't a normal situation though…
"So… You are the members of the Organized Crime Unit who took two of our teammates without asking us for permission first or keeping in touch with our unit chief for updates." – Morgan's statement was biting and full of venom. – "Who thought it was a great idea to keep us in dark about the whereabouts and state of our people."
The five men narrowed their eyes dangerously.
"We are good friends of David and Spencer's." – Answered Ian calmly, although it was evident he didn't appreciate the tone in which they had been spoken to. – "We didn't mean them any harm."
"Friends. Yeah… Some friends you are!"
"Morgan!" – Commanded Hotch, effectively silencing his subordinate with a meaningful stare. Not that it stopped the dark-skinned man from throwing death glares at the other team. – "My apologies." – He said to the five men, even though he didn't try very hard to disguise his own feelings about the matter.
"It's fine." – Simon answered simply, turning to Prentiss. – "It's good to see you again, Emily. How long had it been…?"
"Not long enough. And I wish I could say the same about missing you lot." – The raven-haired woman answered coldly. – "But alas, I'd rather we didn't have to meet again. Especially not after you took our teammates!"
Walker sighed.
"You all forget that we have our orders too. Our unit chief, Supervisory Special Agent Jasper Collins-"
"Who's a jerk!" – Blurted Morgan and even JJ and Garcia gasped. It was one thing to be cross with the group for taking their friends on temporary duty, but to so bluntly disrespect a unit chief!? That could cost the agent his job! Derek probably realized his mistake too, as he bit his tongue and looked closer to being horrified than ever before in his career.
Hotch was obviously trying to think of something to say to save the situation but came up completely blank.
Marshall growled dangerously.
"We'll pretend we didn't hear that. But if you ever say anything remotely similar to that, Agent Morgan, I swear-"
Ian interrupted his friend to stop the tirade of threats he knew would be coming otherwise.
"Let's not forget who this day is supposed to be about, shall we? It's the Genius Boy's celebration and I, for one, want to honor him by not throwing insults at each other. For him, we're all family."
JJ looked grim at the thought of these people being family to her Spence but everyone else had the decency to nod and even look somewhat sheepish.
"Yeah. It's enough that he's been having nightmares about today for days." – Agreed Simon reluctantly.
"And just how do you know that?" – Asked Emily, rolling her eyes. – "I think we know him way better than you do, and we haven't noticed any problems with him."
Dean snorted.
"Well. Since we aren't profilers to just see things, guess what we did? We talked to him!"
"Oh, yeah: and he told you something he didn't tell us, right?" – Mocked Morgan, having already forgotten his previous determination to be quiet.
Marshall nodded.
"He did."
"Yeah, sure…"
"Morgan!"
"Sorry, Hotch, but you have to admit-"
At that moment, Rossi and Reid appeared at the bus, walking up the stairs.
"Hello, everyone, Sorry for keeping you. Junior here couldn't find his plain black socks anywhere…" – Grinned the senior profiler, pointedly ignoring the clear uneasiness in the air. – "I won't go as far as to assume they had been deliberately hidden…"
"Why do I have to wear matching socks? As if the suit weren't bad enough…"
"Because you'll be standing on a stage and everyone would see the unique patterns you seem to prefer…"
"So? What's wrong with that?" – Not waiting for an answer, the boy looked around, trying to decide where to sit, noticing that the two teams sat as far away from each other as possible within the limited possibilities the vehicle had to offer. In the end, he shrugged and took a place right in the middle, between the two groups, looking for all the world like an impartial judge by court.
To everyone's immense relief, there wasn't any argument during the almost hour-long ride to D.C.
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Standing on the stage as second in the line of agents to be awarded that day was almost more than Reid could bear. He wished he were anywhere but there, in front of hundredths of people watching, of cameras flashing and reporters writing frantically… The only thing that gave him some strength to not run away screaming was the fact that his entire honorary family was sitting there as well, cheering for him and genuinely proud.
Well, nearly the entire honorary family, that is…
We have gathered here today to express our immense gratitude towards these agents who…
As the director went on and on about the three agents' heroic deeds that had allowed this day to happen, the youngest profiler's thought turned towards his absent father figure instead. What Rossi had said made him think. Was it possible that the man blamed himself for what had happened with Hankel and his three personalities, and this had been part of the reason for his leaving? But if so, why hadn't he talked about it before making the drastic decision of running away?
And there was something else as well… If this was really true then there was a good chance Hotch at least knew about it. So why hadn't he said something? Questions and questions, all without answers; this could make one's head hurt for sure.
So, Ladies and Gentlemen, in light of all these happenings, it is my greatest pleasure to present…
The first agent just took his Medal and Reid tried to turn his attention back to the current event, not wanting to face the embarrassment of not hearing his own name being called or something. But then… one of the doors in the back of the auditorium opened with a low squeak; and there was some movement among the people standing there… Someone just stepped inside and was quietly asking for forgiveness as he (for by now it was evident it was a man) made his way towards the front rows, stopping right next to where the BAU members were seated, looking at him with wide, proud eyes. His teammates' attention was focused solely on the stage, so they didn't realize who was standing next to them, but Reid, having watched the whole proceeding, had to work hard not to let his jaw drop in surprise.
For the newcomer was none other than Jason Gideon himself.
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Reid couldn't wait for the ceremony to be over. Honestly: who cared about a Medal when Gideon was standing only a few meters away from him after he hadn't seen the man for months!? Typically though, the director felt the need to talk and talk and when he was done with that, then talk some more… The genius felt the Hotch in particular should be very satisfied with him now, given that the man had been a bit worried about how his young subordinate would react when the director would offer him his hand to shake. With all the excitement of seeing Gideon in the audience, Reid had forgotten his aversion to being touched and accomplished this part of the ceremony with ease. In the end, it took over an hour to be allowed to leave the stage. The other two awarded agents remained, proudly accepting congratulations while still standing on the podium and posing for a couple of more photos. The genius, on the other hand, couldn't escape fast enough. As soon as the director had said his goodbye and retreated, the youngest agent literally flew down the three steps separating him from his – now complete – FBI family.
However, when he finally found himself face to face with his long-lost father figure, he found he was totally speechless, unable to articulate any of the feelings chasing each other in his mind. And this was saying a lot; he usually had no problem talking about nothing and everything at the same time...
"Spencer." – Gideon said, clearly a bit uncomfortable himself, especially having the whole BAU and five strangers looking at him like he had just killed a newborn kitten. – "Look at you. I'm so happy to see you. I'm proud of you, son."
That was all it took for the genius to lose control. Ignoring Morgan's indignant 'Son!? You must be kidding!' and JJ crossing her arms angrily, he jumped into the man's arms and hugged him tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.
He whispered into Gideon's ear:
"It wasn't your fault. I don't blame you. Never did. Please, don't disappear again!"
"I'm so sorry for leaving the way I did. I won't disappear this time, I swear. We'll work something out." – He promised just as softly.
There would be time for more talking later; right now, this was more than enough for Reid. It was funny, actually: as a child, he hadn't had a father at all. Now that he was an adult, he had two. And this circumstance didn't appear to be a problem in the least, especially seeing the two men embrace each other like you would a lost and found brother.
Next, Hotch shook Gideon's hand happily, not looking resentful even though the genius had expected him to be just a tiny bit, like the others. JJ and Garcia were much more reserved as they shook their ex-teammate's hand, while Emily was totally unaffected, like usually. Morgan, on the other hand, made up for her lack of negative reaction by nearly crushing Gideon's hand in fury.
The angry agent quickly left the company of the subject of his annoyance, and stepped to Reid to congratulate him instead.
"Not bad, Kid. It's lucky they didn't see you shooting." – He winked cheekily, referring to the boy's initial problems with his qualification.
The genius laughed.
"As a matter of fact, Derek, I already got a 'rifle expert' certificate."
"Sure, Kid."
"He really does." – Confirmed Walker proudly. – "Our little Genius Boy has many surprises up his sleeve."
Morgan still looked unconvinced, so Reid got the perfect idea how to show him in a way his 'big brother' would certainly never forget.
"Why don't you take me on in target shooting when we get back home? We have the day off anyway."
"Kid, are you sure you want that kind of embarrassment? Especially on a day like this, when it should be all about your glory."
The boy smirked evilly.
"Oh, yes. I'm sure."
"Fine. Just don't forget: you asked for it!"
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As soon as they arrived back at Quantico (Gideon having followed the bus with his car), the entire group accompanied them to the shooting range to watch the competition. Garcia filmed it while JJ and Emily took pictures.
It didn't take long for everyone to realize, their youngest didn't only hold his own against his opponent, but beat the more experienced man easily as well. The BAU team – including Morgan himself – was totally baffled and couldn't believe their own eyes. Except for Rossi of course, who – along with the five members of the Organized Crime Unit – smirked, having suspected already that this would happen.
"I… how is this possible?" – Asked JJ. – "I thought you needed tutoring even for your regular qualification…"
"That was before." – Shrugged the genius, putting the weapon down, and doing his best not to look too smug.
"Before what?" – Inquired Emily. – "A mysterious improvement like that would come in handy for everyone."
"There's nothing mysterious about it." – Laughed Marshall. – "We've been working with him ever since the boot camp. And, being a genius and all, he's a great student." – He admitted.
"What boot camp?" – Asked Gideon and Hotch together.
"Nothing…"
"It's top secret."
Ignoring the questioning glances, the OCU members patted the boy's back in acknowledgment of his success, and Rossi invited everyone for a cake to the nearby confectionary that sold Italian desserts to celebrate.