"Gramma D?" Jack's hand was on the phone and the receiver at his ear before Dave Rossi was even in the room.
Dave froze, was Diana Reid even the loop?
Jack listened with a concerned look on his face. He nodded at the phone more than once. He looked worried and twisted his mouth to the side. He nodded his head.
He didn't profile as a child. David was watching an experienced caregiver.
"Jack?" He tried to keep his voice low and get Jack's attention.
Jack shook his head. He was used to listening to hushed sounds. If truth be told he was used to listening to adults talk about their problems. He turned his attention back to the phone and nodded. Then Jack wandered with the phone into Spencer's office, hopped onto Spencer's desk, and opened a high cupboard, and pulled out a large box file, hopped expertly down, and opened it to a bookemarked page.
"Here it is Gramma D." He sounded perky, too perky. He was kid used to managing problems, adult problems. He was reading quickly, he seemed to have inherited, wait, was that possible? Was that a learnt skill?
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx
Jack listened to his Grandmother's voice, her nuance, her inflection, her pauses, the directions of her thoughts. She was clear, she was clear on who he was, she knew was Spencer was sick. This was all good. Jack sighed to himself, he wished he didn't have to lie to her about how sick Daddy Spencer was, it didn't seem fair to tell everyone but not her. She deserved a chance to say goodbye. He wanted his turn, he wondered if Aaron would let him to the hospital later. He didn't think it was worth asking. He hopped onto the desk, he knew where the document was that Gramma D wanted referenced, he would find the exact wording for her; after that he would tell her about Spencer.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXx
Aaron Hotchner slipped into the house, and stared in horror at Jack on the phone to his Grandmother, and standing on Spencer's desk. For all he knew Jack usually stood on Spencer's desk. He knew nothing about his family. Rossi put out a hand to keep Aaron quiet. He, Rossi, had no idea what Jack would say next.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx
It was a simple quote; it was a favorite of Spencer's. "The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living." read Jack, quoting Cicero at Diana Reid's request. "Gramma D, Daddy Spencer wrote a bunch of letters for you, in case he got really sick," Jack heard his Grandmother suck her breath in, "and I don't know which one to send you, because I don't know if he's going to be o.k. this time. And" His Grandmother was deathly silent for a long moment.
His father took the phone out of his hand, David Rossi picked him up. He could see his Dad talking to Gramma D, he could hear the words, and he knew they weren't true, because no one would let him see Daddy Spencer yet, and sometimes Aaron said things that weren't quite right.
"He would never lie to you." David Rossi spoke into his ear.
Jack held his breath.
Aaron was livid. How could Spencer have asked Jack, Jack, a little boy to send letters? The he wondered if one of those nights when he was pretending to be more present than he actually was Spencer hadn't asked him; and Jack had simply taken it on. He turned to David Rossi, reaching out to take his son.
"No Aaron, sleep, I'll take care of him."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx x
Jack was quiet again. His face twitched. He wouldn't cry, someone had to be able to take care of things. David Rossi rubbed his back. He'd call Morgan to come over here, he would take Jack to the chapel in the hospital, and hear from Emily how Spencer was doing, ask the doctors, maybe Jack could kiss him goodnight.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxx
"Is Daddy going to be alright?"
The boy had been so quiet David Rossi startled when he talked.
"The doctors did their best, they cut out as much of the cancer as they could, they hurt some of the nerves in his face, he might look a little funny, and they didn't get the margins." David Rossi hated that he could talk to Jack like he was an adult.
Jack knew he should follow up. He knew the margins meant if they would need to operate again, or do other treatments, like chemo, he hated the chemo because Spencer hated it, and he was thinner than usual and his hair fell out all of it, even his eyelashes. But he also knew this had to work.
"I meant Aaron."
"I don't know, he's doing his best Jack, and you will never, ever be alone."
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx x
Aaron Hotchner had floundered around trying to explain to Diana Reid how sick Spencer was without actually telling the truth. Jack had, and now Aaron was dealing with aftermath. He was relieved when Diana was replaced on the phone by an orderly. He turned his attention to Jack in Rossi's arms. Then Rossi called Morgan to babysit him, it was like him to hurt himself, he had never done that, he had; Aaron paused, he had drunk himself to sleep every night when Spencer was in the hospital, even with Jack in the house. He nodded. Jack was in good hands, yes they could see Spencer if the doctor was o.k. with it. No promises.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxx
"Hail Mary, full of Grace," Jack watched Aaron count the beads of the Rosary though his fingers. David Rossi passed it over to him, and Jack followed the intonation he had heard Uncle Dave say so many times, "The Lord is with thee." He paused and looked to Dave for guidance on the words, but David Rossi had stepped a few feet away to make a phone call to the local paper. Jack continued by himself, "Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death." Now he knew he should add his own thing. He walked over to the candles, he would light one for the Blessed Virgin, he would light one for his Mother, and he would light one for Daddy Spencer. Amen.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
David Rossi finished his call, and lit a candle.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxx
Jack held, clung onto David Rossi as they watched Spencer breathe in and out in the quiet room. Emily was resting her head on Spencer's bed, she had a book by Aleksey Tolstoy open in her lap, a hand held in hers. She startled briefly at the intrusion of the two, but settled into silence with their company and the company of Spencer and the machines. They watched, then Rossi carried Jack over to kiss Spencer's forehead, then they left. Emily resumed her reading.
Rossi hoped Aaron would be asleep when they got home.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The text in the Washington Post Read: O most holy apostle, St. Jude, faithful servant and friend of Jesus - People honor and invoke you universally, as the patron of hopeless cases, of things almost despaired of. Pray for me, for I am so helpless and alone. Please help to bring me visible and speedy assistance. Come to my assistance in this great need that I may receive the consolation and help of heaven in all my necessities, tribulations, and sufferings, particularly the health and healing of our beloved brother Spencer Reid, and that I may praise God with you always. I promise, O blessed St. Jude, to be ever mindful of this great favor, to always honor you as my special and powerful patron, and to gratefully encourage devotion to you by publishing this request. Amen.