Disclaimer: Criminal Minds and all its characters belong to CBS. I own nothing. I do not own anything you recognize.
Previously on Criminal Minds- Stomping into Spencer's room, William threw the tiny boy onto the bed. He slammed the door and strode over to the bed and his terrified son. "You're mine now!"
Four months later
Mildred Pierce sat in her aged recliner watching her new neighbor's small son who was leaning against a tree in his backyard looking at a book. If she didn't know better, she would have said he was reading the thick tome. But the youngster was far too young to be able to read yet. He looked to be about three; four at the most. Besides, with the rate he was turning the pages there was no time for him to actually read the text. The child's head suddenly snapped up bringing her out of her musings. Leaning forward, the retired secretary peered through her newly acquired telescope. She thoroughly scanned her neighbor's sparsely furnished living room. Breathing a sigh of relief when she saw no sign of the too thin boy's father, Mildred sat back and focused on the youngster once more.
While she watched the eerily quiet boy, she thought back to the first and only time she'd seen the child outside of his own property. She had been at the market picking up some supplies for the church's care center when she noticed her new neighbors further down the aisle. She headed their way to introduce herself and welcome them to the neighborhood but stopped short. The scant seconds it had taken for her to hobble that far were long enough for her to conclude the father was the worst kind of scum: a child abuser. The little boy's mannerisms had given it away almost instantly. They were the same as her only great-grandson's. Timmy had been a beautiful baby and toddler. But he was as timid as they came and he seemed to be frightened by the least little thing. He startled at every noise. And then there were the bruises. Nothing major, mind you, but enough to worry her. Mildred had asked her granddaughter about Timmy time and time again but her Sara always had a logical explanation. It wasn't until she got the news that her great-grandson had been killed that she realized what had been going on. After the funeral and the step-father's trial, Mildred had vowed that she would never allow another child to go through what her precious Timmy had endured if she could help it. And now it seemed it was time to keep her word. The only problem was how. The police couldn't help yet. After all, she only had her intuition to go on and they couldn't start an investigation based on that. Besides, she knew getting them to take an eighty three year old widow seriously was going to be tough. The police force in her town tended to think senior citizens all had some degree of Alzheimer's and as such were unreliable witnesses. She'd have to have solid proof for them to listen to her. So she had bought herself a high end telescope and, with a little help, set it up in her upstairs guest bedroom. Once she had focused it on the neighbor's living room, Mildred had grabbed her phone, shut the curtains in the room, and settled in to watch and wait. That had been three days ago and Mildred hadn't seen hide nor hair of the so called family until today.
The old woman suddenly went on high alert as the rumble of an engine announced the arrival of the senior Reid. She leaned forward and looked through her telescope, holding her breath as the door of the neighbor's house forcefully opened and the boy's father stomped into the living room. Mildred watched as the man disappeared into the back of the house. With her suspect out of sight, she focused her gaze back on the youngster in the backyard. The boy was definitely aware that his father was home; his tense posture told her that. She could also see the conflict on his face as his fight or flight response kicked in. The poor child was so terrified he couldn't decide whether to run and hide or stay and face the music. A slamming door and a bellowed "SPENCER!" made Mildred almost jump out of her skin. Seeing an enraged William Reid storm out of the house with a walking cane in his hand, she snatched up her phone and hit speed dial three. She had to save that little boy!
Spencer dropped his book and jumped to his feet at his father's furious voice. He ran to the backside of the tree and pressed his back against the trunk. "Don't find me, don't find me" he whispered, shaking like a leaf. Logically, he knew the odds of his father finding his hiding place were extremely high. After all, the tree was pretty much the only object in the unkempt backyard. But at the moment, Spencer wasn't thinking logically. The only thought in his head was getting away. Maybe he could…a sharp whack on the opposite side of the trunk caused the youngster to let out a frightened shout.
"There you are, Spencer" William said as he rounded the tree. "You know you're not allowed out of the house when I'm gone."
"I-I'm sor-ry s-s-sir" Spencer apologized, his eyes glued to the cane in the senior Reid's hand.
"No, you're not." William disagreed, his voice deceptively calm. He grinned maniacally. "But you will be." Before his threat could register, he brought the cane down hard against his son's side.
Mildred winced as a pained scream reached her ears. Huffing at the operator's remark, the eighty three year old threw her gentility out the window. "No, it is not a case of corporal punishment!" she growled. "Last I heard, beating a three year old on the head and chest with a cane was not an appropriate form of punishment!...That's right I said a cane!...My eyesight is just fine, you twit! Listen! Can't you hear him?!" Mrs. Pierce held the phone up to the open window for a few seconds before putting the phone back to her ear. "See, he's…you are?...oh thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Dropping the cordless phone, she inched her way to a standing position, took up her metal cane, and hobbled slowly out of the room. Getting to the wooden, spiral staircase, she grasped the banister and began the arduous task of going down. She could only pray she would make it in time.
CM
"You're going to learn to obey boy!" William snarled, striking his son, who had curled into the fetal position in an attempt to protect himself. "If I have to beat you every day for a year, I'll teach you to follow my orders to the letter!" Raising the cane, he readied himself to deliver another blow. He was stopped by the sound of approaching sirens. The furious father looked up, realizing for the first time that in his rage he had forgotten to haul the brat inside before doling out his punishment. One of his neighbors must have called the cops on him and he had a pretty good idea which neighbor it was, too. The ancient harpy next door was always sitting in her window. He'd lay good money on her being the snitch. And because of the old busy body, it was going to take some quick footwork to keep him from getting locked up for disciplining his son. Cursing his lapse of judgment, William grabbed hold of Spencer's right arm and starting dragging him towards the house. "Shut up, you stupid little prick!" he yelled, applying the cane once more. "You brought this on yourself and you know it!"
"N-n-n-no more, pl-pl-pl-ease dad-dy" Spencer rasped, his voice hoarse from all the screaming.
"I said shut it!" William ranted. He slammed the boy's arm down on his knee, eliciting a high pitched scream. "When will you ever lear…"
"Hey! Let that, that child go!" Mrs. Pierce breathlessly hollered as she stumbled up to the wooden fence separating their properties.
William's eyes narrowed as he glared at the elderly woman. "Why should I? He's my son! I have every right to put my hands on him!" he angrily replied.
Mildred returned his glare with an icy one of her own. "Get your filthy hands off him." she ordered. "I won't tell you again."
"Oh really, and just what do you plan on doing if I don't?" William challenged.
Mildred glanced down at her side and smiled. "Sic'em Sampson!" she shouted, pointing to the man as a loud growl sounded.
William's eyes went comically wide. He dropped his son's arm and dashed across the yard. Making it to the gate on the far side, he quickly scurried up it. "I'll be back for you brat!" he threatened before jumping off the gate and out of sight.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Mildred pocketed her tape player. "Works every time" she thought as she started around the fence to the hole she knew was near the front. After a couple of steps, she heard the screech of tires followed by slamming doors. Spotting two policemen racing towards her porch, the feisty senior quickly hollered to get their attention. When they turned her way, Mrs. Pierce pointed to the gate. "He went over that gate!" she hollered.
Nodding, the younger of the two officers sprinted around the house while the older, slightly out of shape policeman hurried over to Mildred. "Where's the boy ma'am?" he asked, stepping up beside her.
"He's over there." Mildred informed the man. "Please, be careful. I think he's badly hurt."
"Don't worry, ma'am I'll take good care of him until the ambulance arrives." Officer Yancer assured the worried woman. Knowing the senior needed something to distract the senior from the horror she had just witnessed, he asked, "Would you mind waiting here and directing the EMT's to the boy's location?"
"You can count on me." Mildred replied.
"Thank you ma'am" the officer said before turning and hopping the fence. Seeing the curled, trembling figure, he raced over to the fallen boy. Dropping to his knees beside the unconscious child, he felt his stomach clench at the sight of the damage. Grabbing the mic fastened on his shirt, he pressed the button and yelled, "We need an ambulance ASAP!"
CM
Jackson Hotchner smiled as he listened to his oldest nephew describe the latest prank war at his workplace. Whoever said FBI agents were stuffy, serious men had never met Aaron. The kid was always smiling and laughing. If Aaron and his wife, Hailey, were around, you were sure to have a fun time. It was a shame they hadn't been able to start a family yet. They'd make great parents. Hearing said nephew call his name, Jackson stammered, "Uhh what?...I don't know Aaron. Mary and I were talking about going away for the weekend. I know but…" He glanced up as a knock sounded on the door. "Look Aaron, I've gotta go. Somebody's at the door. I'll think about it, okay? I will. Bye, Aaron." Jackson set his cordless phone back in the cradle and strode over to the front door. After peering out a side window, he opened the door wide. "Ms. Mathews" he greeted. "What brings you out our way?"
Ms. Mathews, a short, plump woman with long brown hair pulled up in a bun, smiled nervously up at the tall, muscular man. "Mr. Hotchner, I know you and your wife have retired from the foster system but I have a special case." She began, holding up a hand to stop his protest. "Please just hear me out, alright?"
Jackson glanced over at Mary who had joined him at the door before nodding. "Alright" he agreed, motioning the social worker inside.
Ms. Mathews followed Mary into the living room and took a seat on the leather sofa. "A four year old boy was taken from his father three days ago in Madison. The poor boy had been badly beaten with a cane among other things. He suffered numerous injuries to…"
"Ms. Mathews, not to be rude but cut to the chase," Jackson interrupted. "What is it about this boy that has you so spooked?"
"His father" the social worker honestly answered. "The man promised to come back for the boy. And he did. He tried to get to him in the hospital. He would have gotten him, too if it hadn't been for an observant nurse."
"Parents trying to take back their kids don't faze you. That happens all the time. There's something else going on. What is it?" Mary prodded.
Ms. Mathews nodded. "The elderly neighbor that made the 911 call was found murdered in her home this morning. Evidence points to the father being the killer."
"Oh my!" Mary exclaimed.
Jackson shook his head. He'd never understand people like that. "So, that's why you need us." He deduced.
"I know it's a lot to ask and if you don't want to take on the responsibility, I'll under…"
"We'll take him." Jackson and Mary chorused.
Ms. Mathews looked surprised. "Are you sure?" she asked.
"Yeah" Jackson replied. "Why don't you and Mary go into the kitchen to iron out the details? I have a phone call I need to make."
"Okay" Ms. Mathews agreed.
Jackson waited until the ladies were out of earshot and then picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number. "Aaron, I need a favor."