Echoes

Chapter 10

You fool. What were you thinking? And you call yourself a genius. Of course they were never yours to have.

Reid drove home recklessly, paying little attention to the road. His thoughts were consumed with self-reprobation. Why did you even let the idea cross your mind? Once upon a time, you were content to be alone. Why couldn't you have left it that way? Why did you let yourself start to want something….or someone…or someones….you could never have?

He was biting his cheeks to hold back tears. He'd been through many losses in his life, but had never felt one so viscerally. He literally felt pain in his heart.

How does that happen?

He needed to calm himself, or he'd never make it home in one piece.

It's all right. You've done life alone before, you're good at it, you can do it again. It will be all right.

But he knew it was a lie. He knew that it had seemed all right before only because he'd never known anything else. Now, having tasted a life in relationship, he thought he might wither and die without it.

Some rational part of Reid knew that it had to be this way. A crisis had occurred, and it was appropriate that the adults put their own needs aside for the sake of the child. They were all doing that. Maybe it wasn't a permanent thing. Maybe he was being too dramatic.

So why does it feel so much like an ending? Maybe because you're on the outside, not even looking in.

Arriving home, he did his best to resume his usual routine, to pretend it was a normal day. But he couldn't focus on his books or his articles. It was a strange sensation for Reid. He was accustomed to being led by his mind. Now, led by his heart, he couldn't keep his thoughts on his work. They kept going back to images of blonde hair, and chocolate chip pancakes, and chats by the fireside….and holding someone cherished….

The tears came. He had to hold his chest to keep it from coming apart. I don't know if I can do this again. Please, God, help me. Help me to do the right thing.

The brain that could never shut down observed that it's not actually possible to cry oneself to sleep. The act of crying is too physical. But it ispossible to become physically exhausted from weeping. Reid fell into a restless sleep when he reached that point of exhaustion.

The only good thing about going to work on Monday was that JJ wouldn't be there. She was taking time to be with Henry…and Will, thought Reid. But at least he wouldn't have to deal with how to be around her. She had made three different calls to his cell over the weekend. He hadn't answered any of them. He wasn't ready. But he knew he couldn't avoid her forever.

At one time a very isolated, immature Reid would have become snarky in a circumstance like this. He wasn't proud of that younger, self-centered version, but he understood it. He simply hadn't had any other way to view the world. As he'd developed relationships with the members of his team, as he'd grown in experience, and especially as he'd matured, he'd become more outwardly focused, more sensitive to others. Now, the more mature Reid was determined to handle this situation in a way that wouldn't hurt the others involved. He just didn't have any idea how to go about it.

Last night, after he'd again had to give up on working, he'd turned to his mother's journals, hoping she might have some wisdom for him.

He was coming to the end of them now, approaching the time he'd spent with her in the hospital as she was dying. This earlier entry was about his visit to her after Emily 'died'. He'd gone, not really seeking comfort from her…..he didn't think she had it to offer…..but simply to escape. Another lost relationship…but found again. And it wasn't at all the same thing…..

After he'd returned to work, Diana wrote, on what must have been a lucid day, "Spencer has gone again. He seemed so much like his younger self…like a lost little boy. He's lost one of his few friendships, with the colleague called 'Emily'. She's died, and he seems so very sad about it. My poor boy, who has never really learned how to have a normal relationship, seems to know only loss. I watched him as he tried to tell me he was all right, with the smile that never quite reached his eyes. I fear he will choose to be alone as a way to avoid losing again."

Reid was amazed at how on target his mother's assessment of him had been. That was exactly how he'd wanted to handle losing Emily. It had taken JJ's reaching out to him, inviting him for comfort, to keep him from isolating himself completely. But this loss, this loss of JJ and Henry…and the idea that he couldn't seek the support of his best friend…was too much altogether.

I'm sorry, Mom. I'm just too tired. I can't try any more. I don't have it in me. I'll be all right alone.

"Hey, Reid." Emily seemed to be taking a measure of his mood as he arrived to the BAU on Monday. He caught the look she exchanged with Morgan and deduced that Garcia had filled the team in on Henry's status and Will's visit. They hadn't exactly been subtle about their knowledge…..and approval….. of his budding relationship with JJ, so he wasn't surprised at their concern. But he was determined to put a good face on it. He wasn't going to become a distraction, and he definitely didn't want to do anything to make JJ uncomfortable. She was simply a mother caring for her son, with his father.

That's as it should be, thought Reid, trying to convince himself.

The morning was slow, a few hours of consults punctuated by a team meeting at which Reid did his best to look attentive, but offered few comments. He resumed his consults immediately afterwards, deflecting Emily's attempts to draw him out. He was pleasant, but superficial.

Garcia tried to entice him to her office with cookies, a lure that usually worked. Reid resisted until Morgan took him by the arm and physically brought him there. "Baby Girl baked for us, Kid. We need to be polite." And then Morgan managed to vanish.

"How's my Junior G man?" Garcia tried opening with humor.

"Fine, Garcia. Hey, these cookies are great." She noticed he'd consumed only a few crumbs. She didn't know it was the first thing he'd eaten in the past two days.

Garcia decided on a direct approach next. "Reid, are you all right?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be? Henry's going to fully recover, and that's the most important thing."

She kept a steady gaze on him. "You're right, it is. " She changed the subject. "You know, I was over there yesterday. Henry was asking for you." Garnering no response, she continued. "JJ said she'd tried to call you, but didn't get an answer." Still no response. She hadn't actually asked him a question.

Reid was studying one of her computer monitors, so he wouldn't have to make eye contact.

"Reid, I know you're not okay. Please talk to me. Or to Morgan. Or Emily. Or anybody. We can see what this is doing to you."

"Penelope, please let me handle things my own way. There is no 'this', and I'm fine."

They were called out to a case in Austin from Monday night until Wednesday. After a frustrating beginning to the investigation, Reid had been able to decipher a pattern in the notes left by the unsub. His breakthrough led to the unsub's discovery and apprehension, and the final victim was found alive.

Hotch should have been satisfied that his youngest team member was able to function without hindrance. He should have taken it as a sign that he was handling his personal situation well. But, expert profiler that he was, Hotch knew he was watching a masterful attempt at compartmentalizing, which was never a good coping strategy. He approached Reid on the plane.

"Reid, that was good work."

"Thanks." He was becoming a master of the short answer.

"I understand JJ will be coming back to work tomorrow."

"Great."

"You must have been very worried about Henry. I'm glad to hear he's doing well."

"So am I."

"Has Will gone back to New Orleans?"

"I'm not sure."

Hotch gave him his trademark stare. That usually got Reid to squirm enough to offer more information, but nothing was forthcoming this day. When Hotch moved back to his seat, Reid resumed his intense study of the view outside the window.

The following morning, JJ was greeted with hugs and kisses upon her arrival back to the BAU. Reid gave her a smile, and she returned it, but with a question in her eyes. The others noticed the lack of conversation between the two, but said nothing.

In the bullpen, Emily and Morgan pumped JJ for information about Henry's condition and Will's visit. Although Reid did not actively participate in the conversation, he couldn't help but hear everything that was said. The others noticed JJ's glances in Reid's direction from time to time, and Reid's failure to look anywhere but at his desk. When asked a direct question, he answered pleasantly enough, but offered nothing further.

Internally, he was chattering. She looks so sad. Did I do that to her? Or maybe she's missing Will. Maybe she's decided she made a mistake separating from him. Maybe she's decided Henry needs him. Henry! My Little Man, I'm so glad you're all right. JJ….JJ...

He had to stop thinking about it all. Not only would he make himself crazy, but he knew he was having trouble keeping his emotions in check. He needed to think about anything but JJ and Henry. And he simply couldn't do it. His mind had never failed him this way before.

God, I don't know how I'm going to do this. Please, please help me to do what's right. Help me to make it through this day.

From the conversation around him, Reid learned that Will had returned to New Orleans and Henry to preschool. Absently, Reid wondered if his teammates were being sensitive to him in not asking if there were plans for Will to return.

Reid worked at his desk through lunch. While the others were still out, JJ came back to the bullpen. She approached him hesitantly.

"Spence, hi."

"Hi." He would try to keep it light.

She kept a steady, unreadable gaze on him. "Henry and I have both missed you. How have you been?"

He deflected. "I'm so glad to hear that Henry's doing well. You must be very relieved."

She felt like she was talking with a stranger. Trying again, she told him, "Henry would really love to see you. Do you think you could stop by this weekend?"

He hoped the shakiness he was feeling inside didn't show on the outside. He'd vowed to himself that he would never do anything to hurt Henry. That meant stepping aside for the boy's father…but it also meant being present when needed.

"Sure. Would Saturday afternoon be good?"

That got him a genuine, very relieved grin from JJ. "It would be great. And you can stay for dinner, if you'd like."

"We'll see. I may have to get going."

And her grin evaporated.

That evening, Reid pulled out his one year medallion. Fingering it, he knew he wasn't in danger of a relapse. He'd moved beyond that kind of solution to his emotional crises. But he needed the reminder of the mantra, "one day at a time." He'd gotten through this first day of seeing JJ again….but just barely. His inner turmoil was relentless. He couldn't shake the longing he had for JJ and Henry but, he kept telling himself, they are another man's family. Who would know better than he did what it was like for a boy to grow up without his father? How could he ever have thought to put himself between Will and Henry? He was sure JJ would want Henry to know the love of two parents. He needed to support her in that. But the grief was overwhelming.

Reid still hadn't been able to eat, and sleep was elusive. Eventually, he gave up the effort and pulled down the box with his mother's journals. He knew there were only a final few entries left to read. He would miss these encounters with his mother, with the woman he knew and the woman he wished he'd known. Just as he would miss being able to discuss them with JJ. Her insights had helped him through so much in the past few months.

He read, "I'm in the hospital. Spencer has just been to see me. My poor boy, he's had to give me frightful news. My brain has failed me again. This time, with a tumor. One that may very well take my life. And my son had to tell me about it. I could see his anguish as he did. Is there no end to the pain I will cause him?"

Reid was amazed. Having just learned that she had a lethal brain tumor, his mother was worried about him. He pondered the bond between parent and child. Ever since he'd fallen in love with Henry, he understood it just a little bit better.

The entry went on. "There is always something good that comes from every crisis. In this case, the good is that I am not being given my medication. That is bringing me blessed periods of clarity. If I die this way, I shall be happy. I am able to be with my son, my heart, in a clear state of mind, for the first time in a very long time. And for that, I will be forever grateful."

Tears blurred his vision. That his mother would have gratitude for a fatal illness, simply because it allowed her a better quality of time with him, touched him deeply.

"Spencer has brought a 'friend' with him. Her name is Jennifer. I can see something in his face when he talks about her, and in hers when she talks about him. She's told me how much she respects and admires him. She even called him 'noble'. And she's made him godfather to her son. I don't think Spencer realizes it, but I believe there is a very deep bond developing between them. Mothers always know these things."

Well, you were right, Mom. At least on my part. Maybe on JJ's as well, I don't know. I thought so, once. But it's all moot now.

The next entry began with "Spencer, if you're reading this, make sure you keep turning pages until you find what I've left you. You will know it when you see it."

He realized he shouldn't have been as surprised as he was. Of course she would have assumed he'd read her journals. But he'd never expected her to address him directly.

He noticed that this entry was shorter than the rest, and then realized that the writing trailed off the page. It came to him that this was what she'd been writing when she'd had that final seizure. These were, in essence, her final thoughts.

"My son cried with me today. And I with him. That wouldn't be a journal-worthy piece of information if it had ever happened before. But I can't remember another time. I can vaguely remember screaming at him in the throes of my illness, and I can remember making him cry. But today he cried with me, not because of me. Today, we were able to offer comfort to one another, and I am thankful for that. We cried over separation and forgiveness, over loving one another enough to do the hard thing. I am so very….

And the last letter trailed off the page. He'd come to the end of his mother's life. How is it possible, he thought, to feel so full and so empty at the same time?

He knew the journal entry was about his mother's forgiving him…..actually, her thanking him…..for sending her to Bennington. It was a weight he'd been carrying for a long, long time, and she'd relieved him of it.

His thoughts turned, inevitably, to JJ. His mother's words echoed in his mind. Separation and forgiveness…..loving one another enough to do the hard thing…..

An internal debate raged. He wondered exactly what 'the hard thing' was for JJ and himself. Was it giving up on a relationship that was only just beginning….but held such promise…for the sake of her little boy? Was it him finding a way to stay in their lives while making no demands on their affection? Was it all of them sloshing through the messiness of little Henry having two father figures?

The answer eluded him.

Reid was already on his fourth cup of coffee by the time he entered the BAU on Friday. Five straight nights of no sleep coupled with very little food intake took a toll on one's energy. And on one's defenses. When JJ greeted him in the morning, he gave her a genuine smile, complete with eye contact. Taking that as a sign that things might be thawing between them, JJ rubbed Reid's arm as she walked past. He immediately stiffened. The defenses had fallen firmly back in place.

"JJ, please don't."

"Don't what? Touch you?"

"Yes."

She was hurt and angry at the same time. "Spence, don't do this. We have to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about. Things are what they are."

"Which is what we need to talk about. I don't think we're in agreement about how things 'are'. When you come over tomorrow, we have to talk."

"I was going to take Henry out to a museum." Or anywhere, just so we don't have to have this conversation.

"We can talk before or after, but it has to happen, Spence."

He never could say 'no' to her.

"All right, JJ, we'll talk tomorrow."

He felt lost that night. Without JJ, without Henry, and now, having finished her journals, without his mother. And then he remembered….

He leafed through the pages after his mother's final journal entry until he found it. His mother was right, he knew it as soon as he saw it. Because it started with,

"My Dearest Spencer,

How grateful I am to have this final clarity, this opportunity to be sound-minded enough to give you what I think you need from me.

Firstly, know that I am so very, very proud of you. Of course I admire your accomplishments, your academic achievements, your talented memory. But I recognize that all of those things have come to you as gifts. What you have chosen to do with them is a result of your character. And your character is something you built all on your own. I am proud of the man you have chosen to become. You help others (even if it is for the government)…."

Reid never could be sure if she meant for those asides to be humorous.

"…..and Jennifer tells me you have saved many lives. That you have become this man despite the childhood I gave you is a miracle, and one for which I am immensely grateful.

Secondly, I thank you. Another son might have hated a mother like me. But you treated me with endless patience, with compassion, with forgiveness, none of which I really deserved. No mother ever feels adequate to her role, but I know that my lack of ability, my abject failures, were real. I'm so, so sorry, Spencer, that I couldn't have been better for you. Please know that you are, and have always been, the single most important person in my life.

His tears were making it hard for him to read.

"And, finally, some motherly advice. Better late than never! Spencer, you tend to retreat from life. I know your past has made you feel safer when you isolate yourself. But Spencer, I don't want you to live your life alone. Your father and I failed to create a family for you, and in doing so, we failed you. Life is meant to be lived in relationship….it's the whole, the only, point. Find that girl who makes you happy. Make a family with her. Live actively, not passively. Don't wait for it to come to you….it may well pass you by. Seek what you want. Take a chance on it. I know you remember me saying "when you're ready, the right girl will come along." When she does, make sure you take her by the hand.

Be engaged with life. Read the great stories. Gaze upon fine art. Listen to beautiful music. Explore the night sky. My adventure is coming to an end. Yours is still being written. Enjoy your life, my heart. Be happy.

With love eternal,

Mom"