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Chapter Fourteen
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Of the five people sitting around him in the Round Table room, four were stunned and one was the picture of dejection and misery.
"What're you saying, Hotch? The kid quit? Seriously?"
"My sweet boo is leaving?" Garcia asked plaintively.
"No, he can't be," J.J. scoffed, not believing it. "Spence would never run out on us like that."
"I'm afraid it's true," Hotch said. "Reid put in his resignation this weekend."
"Just out of the blue like that?" Blake asked. "Did he tell you why?"
Hotch's gaze involuntarily flickered away from looking at Rossi. It was the briefest of tells, a micro-expression, but he was in a room full of profilers. Seeing Morgan immediately sit up and tense as he registered Rossi's body language, Hotch cursed inwardly.
"You're not just going to sit back and accept it, are you?" Morgan demanded.
"Look, I know we're all shocked," Hotch said, "But this is Reid's decision."
"The hell it is!" Morgan shouted, and before anyone could stop him, he grabbed Rossi by the front of his shirt, hauled him to his feet and slammed the older man against the window that looked out into the bullpen hard enough to rattle the glass and nearly knock the blinds down. "WHAT DID YOU DO?" he roared.
"GET THE HELL OFF ME!" Rossi ordered.
"Morgan, for God sake!" Hotch swore as he leapt up and tried to pull the other man away from Rossi.
Morgan slammed Rossi roughly back against the window again. "What did you do to Pretty Boy?" the younger man barked.
Hotch, J.J. and Blake finally succeeded in getting in between Morgan and Rossi, while Garcia attempted to pull her best friend back from behind. "Get a hold of yourself, Morgan!" Hotch commanded.
"What did you do?" Morgan demanded again, all the while trying to deke around the three people forming a barrier between him and Dave. "I saw him coming out of your room late that night in nothing but a robe and he was upset, so I know this has something to do with you!"
"Chocolate Thunder, you are not helping," Garcia huffed with a certain amount of exasperation, as she kept at her efforts to yank Morgan back.
"C'mon, there's something going on between him and the kid! Reid's been off for awhile now. In fact, Pretty Boy's been acting weird ever since I saw him run out of Hotch's office after talking to him and Rossi, all bent out of shape, nearly three months ago."
"I'm warning you, Morgan - LAY OFF!" Rossi snapped. "You don't know what you're talking about! And stop calling him that stupid name, for Christ's sake! He's not your damned Pretty Boy!"
"What, so he's yours?" Morgan yelled, lunging for Dave again. "You're old enough to be his father, you sick son of a bitch!"
"I AM HIS FATHER!" Rossi bellowed.
In the astounded silence that followed, a new voice came through loud and clear. "Agent Hotchner, perhaps you would care to explain what precisely is going on?"
The team turned as one. Just inside the entrance to the room stood Section Chief Mateo Cruz.
And behind him stood Spencer Reid.
"Spencer…" Dave said.
Reid said nothing. He simply turned around angrily and stalked off.
Everyone turned to stare at Rossi. "Aren't you going to go after him?" Hotch asked him.
"Would it do any good? He's obviously made his decision."
"I see. So you were only prepared to play it like he wanted so long as you both wanted the same things."
"Aaron…" Dave began warningly.
"You're a father now, Dave, so stop acting like a child. Go find him and get this cleared up."
Rossi hesitated, seemingly weighing his options. Finally, strode through the crowd around him, waving his arms wildly for them to move. "Goddamnit, all of you! Get the hell out of my way!"
-x-
Rossi found Reid sitting on a park bench about three blocks north of the Bureau, face buried in his hands. Despite how furious and hurt Dave still was, he was suddenly hit with the downside of fatherhood: when your kid is hurting, you're hurting.
Rossi sat down next to Reid, fighting the urge to throw his arms around the kid and comfort him with ridiculous platitudes.
Reid sighed, raised his head and leaned back against the bench. "Well, so much for me calling the shots, then."
"I'm sorry. I honestly never meant for it to come out like that."
"It wasn't supposed to come out at all," Reid reminded him. "Not unless I wanted it to. That was the promise you made."
"I know, and I'm very, very sorry. Morgan was yelling at me and making all kinds of stupid accusations and it…" Dave seemed to deflate. "It just came out," he finished lamely.
"And the fact that I'm leaving? Did that just come out too? Was it you or Hotch who let that one out of the bag?"
"Hotch did, but what else could he do? The rest of them were asking where you were. What was he supposed to tell them?"
"He could have waited till I came in like I asked him to, so that I could have told them myself!"
"What are you talking about?"
"I sent him a text this morning. I wanted to be the one to tell the others that I was leaving. I had meant to yesterday, but then I got so busy doing errands… Anyway, I sent him a text saying I was coming in after all and not to say anything to the team until I got there, but then Cruz met me on the stairs and asked if I could come to his office for an exit interview. I was only a few minutes late though - why couldn't he wait?"
"I don't know. He did mention some kind of geography emergency of Jack's; maybe he didn't see your text."
"Geography emergency?"
"Apparently Jack made a raised-relief map of the United States for a school project, but dropped it coming down the stairs. One side crumpled and the Rockies got pushed into Pennsylvania."
Reid chuckled. "Oh."
Dave faked a smile; it had been a cute story, but all it had done this morning was remind him that he had no such memories with his own so, bringing home once more all he'd been robbed of. He pushed his hurt to the back of his mind. "I really am very sorry about… you know. What happened back there."
"That's all right. I don't suppose it matters very much anymore."
"No, it does. I was wrong. And I was wrong for getting so angry the other day. I said a lot of things… Look, you gotta know I didn't mean those things. Not really."
"It doesn't matter, Dave."
Dave examined his son closely. "That's not the answer I need."
"Sorry. I believe you. You didn't mean those things."
"Your words aren't exactly ringing with conviction."
Reid shrugged. "Believe what you want."
"Spencer, I said those things because I felt rejected. And devastated. And hell, you were turning away from the job too, which only made things worse!"
Reid turned a puzzled look on him. "What does the job have to do with anything?"
"Because it's the only thing we have in common. Your looks, your personality, your brains - God, if you only knew how much you take after your mother's side! And, from what I can tell, the rest comes from your parents. Your strength, your need for knowledge… you're so much like Diana. Even your taste in books comes from your father, if the info Garcia dug up on him during the Riley Jenkins case is any indication.
"But the profiling, that drive to solve crimes and catch Unsubs, that came from me. Not to mention, Hotch thinks it was that gift that brought you to the team like some kind of homing beacon and allowed us to meet. I have to admit, I took comfort from the idea. It took a lot of the freakish coincidence out of the whole situation. It was as though it didn't matter at all who you ended up with, you and I would have come together eventually. But then you say you don't want to do the job anymore, that that drive really isn't as strong as I thought, and boom! There goes our bond and the comfort of Fate in one fell swoop."
"I'm sorry, Dave. I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll meet me for coffee or go out to eat with me sometime."
"What?"
"I know you don't really want a father. I can deal with that. But we can still be friends, right? You can still catch me up every once in awhile on what you're doing."
"Dave…"
"Who knows, maybe your leaving will cause you to change your mind. Take off some of the pressure."
"Dave, I'm moving."
"…what?"
"I'll be in San Francisco until October, and then I'll be living in Africa."
"Africa?"
"Yes."
"So you're leaving leaving."
Reid said nothing.
"This all scares you that much?"
"That's not fair, Dave."
Rossi got to his feet. "It's fine. You know what, do what you like."
"Dave - "
"No, it's okay. You're an adult. Go where you want."
"It's not… I didn't mean…" Reid called after him, but Rossi was already gone.
-x-
"So, let me get this straight: Reid is Rossi's kid?" Morgan asked, still trying to get his head around it.
"Rossi slept with Mrs. Reid? Bossman, that is some heavy stuff. You just took a lead pipe to the finely-calibrated performance engine that is my mind!" Garcia put in.
Hotch shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that. I'm afraid it's quite a bit more complicated." Briefly, he told them the entire story.
"Yeah, you know, that doesn't actually make it any less weird," Garcia commented after Hotch finished.
"I can't believe it. I simply can't believe it," J.J. said. "He was abducted? Poor Spence!"
"Poor Rossi," Blake said, and Hotch wondered if any of the others had noticed the shadow that seemed to tinge her voice. "To lose a child like that…" she said in practically a whisper.
"I don't even want to think about it," Cruz said. The entire team was subdued by that, each pondering the pain their colleague and his wife must have gone through.
"Why she'd do it? This Janine Rutherford, I mean," Blake asked a moment. "Why steal the Rossis' baby? She'd already run out on the Reids. They probably didn't expect her back after that. Why bother to steal a baby and cause two people that… that kind of grief?"
"Money," a voice growled. The team looked up to see Rossi at the door.
"Did you find Reid?" Hotch asked.
"Yes," Rossi answered curtly.
"And?"
"I don't want to talk about it." He remained standing and turned his back to them to stare out at the bullpen.
Hotch nodded and reluctantly let it go for now. "Dave's probably right about the money. Janine - or Elizabeth - was young and on the run from a violent man. She was very likely desperate for cash and she had something she knew the Reids wanted. Then, all of a sudden, she didn't."
"But by then she didn't want to lose out on the cash cow," J.J. spat, contempt ringing loud and clear. The idea of anyone taking her Henry away, or causing Rossi and Carolyn the kind of pain she went through when she miscarried her second child, was horrifying.
"According to Mr. Falco, who was the detective William Reid had hired who finally found out the truth," Hotch explained. "It also could have been the mother's idea. By all accounts Janine was a passive girl who got good grades and never really got into trouble, at least of her own accord, but her mother was a real piece of work. She could have simply given her daughter the money, but thought it was better for the girl to get it somewhere else."
"Lovely," Morgan commented sarcastically. "Please tell me Mommy Dearest is in custody."
"I'm afraid not. Brenda Fichman is in the final stages of Alzheimer's," Hotch said.
"So there's no one to prosecute?" Cruz asked.
"No," Hotch said.
"Man, that sucks!" Morgan said, throwing a pen he'd been twiddling in one hand down upon the table.
"So, in essence, they got away with it," Blake said. "They rob two parents of their son and the son his parents, but they won't ever have to pay for it!"
Hotch nodded sadly.
"Do you think Reid's father was telling the truth when he said he and Reid's mother didn't know?" Blake asked.
"Well, I wouldn't describe William Reid as a paragon of virtue," Hotch said, "But my instincts say yes, he was telling the truth."
"That much is a relief at least," J.J. said. "How's Spence taking all this?"
There was a fierce snort from Dave. "Badly," was all he said.
Hotch frowned. "It's been rough on him," he told J.J.
"Is that why he's leaving?" Garcia wanted to know.
"It's not my place to discuss his reasons," Hotch said.
"Speaking of which," Chief Cruz said as he stood up, "There are things I think the two of us should talk about, Agent Hotchner. Perhaps you should come as well, Agent Rossi. The two of you please follow me to my office."
-x-
"You know what we should do! We should throw a party!"
"A party, Baby Girl?"
"You know, for Reid. A "Going-Away" party!"
"I don't think Pret… uh, the Kid… I mean Reid, feels like a party right now, Sweetness."
"You really do have quite a bit of trouble with that, don't you?" J.J. asked Morgan, who only waved it off.
"No, no, no! It'd be perfect!" Garcia protested. "We'll invite Will and James, and Sam and Savannah - ooh, ooh, and Momma Morgan is in town so we have to have her over too! But most importantly, we'll invite Jack and Henry!"
"What are you cooking up, Garcia?" Blake asked.
"Nothing, nothing. Only, you know, if a certain baby G-man is there and he tells his Uncle Spence just how much he'll miss him…"
"Garcia…" Morgan warned.
"Don't jump to conclusions, my sculpted chocolate God - nothing manipulative. But maybe, if Reid knows just how lost we'd all be without him - "
"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Garcia," Blake said. "This is obviously a trying time for both him and Rossi."
"Exactly!" J.J. put in, warming up to the idea. "That's why Garcia is right! Spence is only doing this because he can't deal with the situation or the emotions, or because he's misguidedly following rules too literally again, or who even knows other than he probably isn't thinking straight. The point is, he probably doesn't really want to go. So we need to talk some sense into him before he goes and does something he'll regret!"
Blake could sense Morgan wavering, but she still didn't think it was right. "What if it's not, though?" she asked. "Aren't we doing him a disservice by assuming he doesn't know his own mind?"
"We won't push him too much, Blake. We'll just remind him of all the good points there are to staying," Morgan said.
"And how much he needs his family!" Garcia added. "Oh, I know just the cupcakes I'm going to make!"
"C'mon, Alex, it's for his own good," J.J. said.
Blake was torn. On one hand, she sensed intuitively that Spencer would not exactly appreciate the presumption of the others in trying to talk him out of his decision, and that their plan might end up back-firing on the team. However, she was also a mother who had lost a child, and it hurt her to think that Spencer might turn down the miracle he and Rossi had been given. Still slightly hesitant, she nevertheless gave in. "All right. James is home this weekend, so we'll both be there."
After all, she reasoned, in the end it was just a party. What harm could that do?
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First off, I wish to give my immense thanks to Frakking Toasters for giving me not only the idea for the first scene in this chapter, but for more than a few lines of the actual dialogue as well. And, just as importantly, for letting me bend her ear (so to speak) over the plot. I've always written without much input from others, but discussing this with someone else was a very helpful and pleasurable change! Thank you ever so much for all your assistance, M!
Second, before we move into the next chapter, I think I should explain the timeline a little. Basically, this story takes place in an alternate season nine, where everything after "200" didn't happen. Right now, we're only a few days after the anniversary of Strauss's death, so about late May or early June. It's not a big deal, but if you were waiting for a particular even to happen from that part of season nine, it's not going to. (It also means that, right now, no one on the team knows about Blake's son, for instance.)
And, last but not least, a huge thank you once more to all of my readers! I hope you're continuing to enjoy the story!