Title: Losing My Religion by Lexikal (Chapter Thirty Seven)
Rating: M for graphic violence against a child and language (in the first chapter, chapter 8 and chapter 10 so far. Chapter 28 has Reid discussing specific acts of abuse but not at length.)
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Summary: Spencer Reid, 10, is removed from his father's "care" after being violently attacked and is fostered by his old mentor, Jason Gideon. This is a sequel to "That's me in the corner". Features child abuse, do not read if underage.
Author's Note: Maybe I can have this done by the end of this month. I hope... I like this story but I want to work on the others. Rest of the A/N at the end so as not to disrupt story flow.
"They fail, and they alone, who have not striven." –Thomas Bailey Aldrich
He didn't know where he was, but at the same time, he was aware of being here before, of maybe never leaving here. The ground was cold, iced with hoarfrost and under the frost was pitch black mud, the color of the sky at night if the stars all burned out. But God would never let that happen. The frost covered ground was also full of cylindrical shapes, yawning and blinking in the twilight, under a sky that, Gideon knew, would never grow dark and never become any lighter. An eternal twilight.
"It is alright if you are in our garden, as you are not a crow!" A voice rasped at him, and that voice was neither good nor evil, welcoming or scary. It was as ancient as the Grand Canyon and sounded like leaves scattering on the street in a light wind. Gideon glanced up at the scarecrow. Nodded.
"Who are you?" Gideon asked in a child's voice. It was until that moment that he realized he was a child. He had always been a child and had never grown up.
"We are the hollow men," the first scare-crow said, sternly. "We are the stuffed men. Leaning together...headpiece filled with straw."
"I know that." Gideon said, and was amazed that he did. He knew that. He knew the rest of who they were too.
"You are the shape without form, though." Another scarecrow said, and there was something mildly sinister about that comment. "You are shade without colour. You are the dream. We are dreaming you."
Gideon blinked and rubbed at his face. It felt rubbery and cold, not like skin at all, really.
"This is death's other kingdom." Child-Gideon said suddenly, as if waking up to reality.
"Yes, and you are welcome, because you are not a crow, and will not peck at us." That was a distant voice, another hollow man, apathetic and dreary of being picked by corvids.
"Would you like a piece of fruit?" The sinister one asked then, trying to sound magnanimous. "We always have lots of fruit."
"It is strange fruit. It attracts the crows." The first scare-crow added; the ancient one. Gideon glanced up. He was in a garden but interspersed in the garden were trees. Out of the trees, instead of sap, ran blood. Hanging from the branches by old, tattered nooses were corpses, bloated and puffy and buzzing with the sound of flies. Other things hung from the trees. Individual arms and legs, eyes and ears, all dusky and cyanotic. Replacement parts. Strange fruit. And that was when Jason Gideon noticed that the lumps beneath his feet were not rocks or cabbages but human heads, sleeping under their layer of frost, yawning and blinking.
"You woke up the heads," The sinister one said suddenly, jerking on its pole. Gideon hunched down on his haunches and peered at one of the heads. It was familiar and haunted, eyes ringed with dark shadows like a coon, lips cracked and when it spoke it asked why he hadn't saved it.
"I didn't want to die." The head said. It was the head of a child Gideon had never met, but had tried to save, a boy whose school photo had been tacked up on the BSU corkboard for over a month. The boy had died a horrible death and afterwards had been washed, dismembered, in a washing machine and dried with a dryer sheet.
His name was forever lost here, in this place, but that face and those eyes...
"I tried to save you. I really did." Child-dream-Gideon told the head earnestly, fingers hovering over its frost-kissed eyelashes.
"I am so cold here. I am so cold in this cold, black ground. I will always be cold while you are warm. But I will always smell like a fresh spring day."
"I really did try to save you. We looked for you; we barely slept trying to find you. I am so, so sorry..." Dream-Gideon felt nauseated, and his heart was beating erratically. He knew viscerally that the organ was going to stop beating and he would soon join that sad, bodiless head in the ground.
"I was so scared when he first put the knife in. Until then I thought I might live. But then I knew... I knew. And he wasn't fast, either. It is true, what they say. The brain keeps working even after the head is removed..." The head kept talking, but Gideon could no longer hear because he was crying.
Child-dream-Gideon was crying and couldn't stop crying. The head in the ground scowled at the tears and Gideon took another look and realized he recognized the other heads lined up in the ground like macabre cabbages. He knew each one. They were all staring at him with haunted, hateful eyes. Accusing eyes.
"Don't feel badly." A voice like syrup was suddenly in the air, hanging and oppressive. Child-Gideon glanced up. A very thin man with eerily long legs (was he walking on stilts?) and arms walked towards him. The man's face was a halibut, ugly and gray with perpetually confused, globular eyes.
"If it wasn't for your failures, then my ilk couldn't play..." The man with the fish-head stared at Gideon coldly, mouth moving unnaturally, gills fluttering in the eerie twilight.
"I really did try to save you." Gideon told the face in the ground, turning from the disturbing stranger, but it was too late. The face was sleeping, or decaying... something had happened. There was a giggle and a clown stepped out of the copse of trees, eyes dancing manically. The fish-man was laughing. Death's other kingdom was laughing, and the laughter was not nice...
"Oh, you are so DEAD Crane!" Spencer's annoyed yelp startled Gideon awake. He blinked blurrily and stared at the bedside clock and swore. It was only 6:35 in the morning.
"Christ...does the boy wonder ever sleep?" Gideon asked the stucco ceiling and sat up, wiping at his eyes, his stubble. His mouth tasted like something in the order of rodentia had crawled inside and taken a dirt nap. He'd shave later. Right now Reid was still being too-freaking-loud. More yelling. What sounded like a thud. An angry crash. Gideon blinked and oriented himself. He had just had one hell of a strange dream. He's been in a field or a garden or something, there had been a man whose head was that of a fish, and a talking bowling ball...or something...already the dream was dissolving, twisting out of shape like smoke and disappearing, leaving behind only the blue-gray smell of itself.
"No! It is not your turn! You talked right when I was doing that hard level, you talked right at the hard part and distracted me and so you killed me so I get to play your turn!"
Christ. Gideon got out of bed and shuffled downstairs. Today was Saturday, October 6th, 1990. Reid would be turning ten (the big one-oh!) on Tuesday, but today was his "birthday-party day". Gideon really did not want to start it off by yelling at the kid for breaking the local noise pollution by-law but from the sounds of it, this current tantrum was about some damned Nintendo game and if this freak-out was over Nintendo...
Wait. Reid wouldn't be yelling about Nintendo unless he was playing against someone. As eccentric as the boy was, he had never yelled at himself for messing up a level. Which meant...
Christ. Daniel was over. Before 7 in the ay em.
Gideon paused, and thought for a moment. He'd have to be especially careful how he treated Reid now. Being disciplined in front of a friend- especially a new friend- was always tough for the kid getting the "talking to", but when the kid being disciplined had a history of severe emotional abuse and was easily humiliated and said new friend appeared to carry a similar burden, things became exponentially more complicated.
Gideon sighed and continued on down the stairs. As expected, Reid and Daniel were in the living room "playing" Mario brothers. Daniel was sitting cross-legged in front of the television, head straining back to look at Reid. Reid was standing on the couch, swinging his arms like some deranged ape who had just escaped the Pan Troglodyte Sanitarium. Daniel was arguing, too, Gideon saw, just not as loudly as Reid.
Then again, it would have been a real effort to argue as loudly as Spencer Reid. Reid had probably woken up every dog in the state.
"It's my turn because you died, Reid. Fair and square and that is that so suck it up, crutch-boy and..." Daniel Crane stopped speaking the second he saw Jason Gideon and seemed to turn translucent, like a light-switch being thrown. This is the incredible abused-boy-lamp! He turns white at the drop of a hat! Powered by fear of adults! Yours for only the cost of your soul and years of sustained abuse which you provide! Buy now!
"Good morning, Daniel. Reid. Reid; get down off the sofa, stop yelling and behave or the television goes off for the day." Gideon kept his voice as calm and level as he could. Reid needed boundaries. Without them, he seemed incapable of knowing what was socially appropriate.
"BUT IT IS MY TURN AND-"
"Reid, Daniel isn't yelling. Use your inside voice. No more yelling or the TV gets turned off." Again, this was said in the same patient, neutral tone of voice. Both of these kids needed calmness, needed boundaries. Needed an adult to be an adult and not a tyrant, no matter how early in the morning it was and no matter how much said adult needed caffeine.
"BUT TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY PARTY DAY AND-"
"That's 1 strike. If I have to tell you three times, then no more TV, birthday-party day or not."
"BUT YOU WEREN'T HERE AND HE-"
"That is warning number 2. You can tell me whatever you want but use your indoor voice. Or go to your room and calm down. But I don't want the animal welfare people at my door."
That last comment seemed to totally confound Reid. He blinked. "What?"
"Your screaming. You have to be screaming so high that you rival most dog whistles, and when that noise is sustained-"
"No, I am not screaming that loudly!" Reid argued, instantly trapped in the game of let-me-tell-you-how-much-I-know-even-though-I-am-only-ten. "Do you even know how-"
"Nope, but thanks for sharing." Gideon said, yawning, stumbling towards the kitchen. He knew he was being a bit brusque, but damn it, he was tired. "And it's Daniel's turn! By the way, Daniel, does your father know you are over here?"
Gideon heard muffled voices. "Yes, he doesn't care!" Reid called back.
"Really? It's not even 7 in the morning yet, boys."
"I left him a note, Mr. Gideon..." Daniel called back. "I...Reid said it would be okay if I came over."
Gideon spooned coffee grounds into the filter, filled the pot with water, poured it into the machine. Turned the machine on and pulled the egg carton and bacon from the fridge.
"It's fine with me, Daniel. I just want your father to know where you are." Gideon kept his voice neutral. He was glad Daniel liked being over. The kid probably needed a haven. Gideon pulled the frying pan out of the drawer (it was a no-stick pan and Reid refused to eat anything cooked on it because apparently no-stick pans like his Teflon frying pan contained a chemical called perfluorooctanoic acid also-known-as PFOA also-known-as C-8 and apparently said chemical was toxic, toxic, toxic!) and turned the stove on. It was a gas stove and the sound of the gas bursting into blue flame was one Gideon had always associated with good food and home and had only started to associate with house fires and tragedy since Reid had moved in.
"Boys, I am making bacon and eggs and toast. Do you want any?" Gideon called. He was asking for Daniel's sake, not Reid's, but already knew Reid would be the first- and possibly only- boy to respond.
"Sure! I was just thinking about how I wanted to increase my risk of childhood cancer, but I forgot!" Reid called back sarcastically. Gideon rolled his eyes. Apparently the Nintendo crisis of 1990 had passed and would only live on in the history books.
"This coming from a boy who eats Trix- which, I might add, is not a food in any technical sense- like it's pot and he suddenly got a weekend to splurge in Amsterdam." Gideon's voice was light. Since Reid had come to stay he had changed a lot and learned a lot. He had learned how to deal with a child in the throes of a nightmare or a panic attack. He had learned how to hold a boy in a basket hold so he could thrash and scream and not hurt himself or the walls when his anger got to a point where he couldn't control it. He had learned how to slow down and play with Lego and how to find college-aged kids willing to dismantle a fairly large "model" pyramid made of concrete and yet more concrete which had cropped up mysteriously in the backyard. He had also learned how to laugh and find the good in small successes, and how to be sarcastic with Reid because on his good days, the days he wasn't overwhelmed with fear and guilt and trauma, Reid was a sarcastic little smart-ass.
There was a moment of silence. Hushed speaking. Giggling. Gideon smiled despite himself. Maybe it was the smell of the coffee and the rumbling as the machine percolated, but he was easing into the day and no longer felt like engaging in impulsive filicide.
"Daniel, would you like some bacon, eggs and toast?" Gideon called. Lord help him if Reid decided to answer.
Another moment. More hushed back-and-talk voices.
"God knows why, but he wants to eat some unfertilized chicken ova and decaying pig flesh with you!" Reid called back. Gideon rolled his eyes heavenward.
"Okay. Thank you, Reid. I am sure Daniel is capable of speech."
"He really isn't!" Reid called back instantly. "He has mutism and can only talk if I tell him he can talk." Reid's voice was giddy and happy, the voice of a child playing a stupid but normal game of control. Gideon smiled and scrubbed at his eyes
"Okay. How many unfertilized chicken ova and strips of decaying pig flesh would Daniel like, Reid?"
More hushed whispering. Small giggles.
"He says he would like 2 ova and 4 strips of flesh. And 2 pieces of texas toast with butter, thank you very much."
"He is welcome. How would he like his ova chemically changed in the evil Teflon frying pan?"
More whispering. Gideon heard Daniel say what? and Reid's response of he wants to know how to cook 'em and then more giggling.
"He says sunny-side up! And he asked if you would cut the toast into strips so he can dip them in the yolk? He says that if you cut the toast into strips it's called soldiers and foxholes and..."
There was the sound of scuffling and Daniel called back "You don't have to cut my toast for me, Mr. Gideon, I never said that, Reid is lying!" and then more scuffling. A loud yelp. Laughter. What sounded like amateur wrestling in the living room.
"Sunny-side up it is, then, Daniel." Gideon yelled back. The day was in full swing. So far, so good.
"I don't know how you two can eat that junk!" Reid said and took a big slurp of his Trix. Because it was his "birthday-party" day he had finagled Gideon's permission to add 4 heaping tablespoons of brown sugar to his already too-sweet cereal. The sugar stuck up out of the bowl like a dangerous little mountain. Reid had some rubber dinosaurs at the table and was walking them around, dipping their faces into the soggy cereal, making idiotic sound effects.
"Reid, stop being a baby and playing with your food. Sit up in your chair." Gideon chided gently. In response, Spencer Reid made an ear-splitting pterosaur screech. Smiled widely.
"Yeah, see, you keep that up and I am going to buy you a high chair, because you're obviously not ten. You are obviously a baby and babies sit in high chairs."
This time there was a roar. It was probably supposed to be a T-Rex or something similar. Sounded more like a strangled cat.
"Seriously, do you know what eggs are, Daniel? Or pork meat is? Do you know that people who eat pig's-head soup have a greater than average chance of a heart attack because they chemically ingest all the terror that was in that pig's body when it was murdered? It's true. Trust me on that."
Daniel Crane looked over at Gideon, as if looking for an answer. Gideon sighed. Shrugged. He didn't want to get into this.
"But I am not eating pig's head soup I am eating-"
"Doesn't matter!" Reid snapped, not waiting for his friend to finish. Gideon sighed. Yup. They really needed to work on the social skills and the waiting to take your turn thing.
"You're eating a murdered pig's body full of fear and terror and also added chemicals like nitrites. It's very bad for your health!"
Daniel reached across the table and quickly snatched up Reid's box of Trix. Began to read the ingredients. "Corn, sugar, corn syrup, canola oil, modified corn starch, corn starch...salt, guar gum, gum arabic, high fructose corn syrup, calcium carbonate, dicalcium phosphate, trisodium phosphate, red 40, yellow 6, blue 1 and other colours added, baking soda, sodium citrate, natural and artificial flavour. Yeah, you're a real paragon of dietary knowledge." Daniel said cheekily, a grin on his lips.
"Just because I know I eat it, doesn't mean I don't know what's in it." Reid remarked, and took another slurp. Gideon smiled. Shook his head. A swing...and a miss. Reid would never concede defeat. Not over his breakfast cereal choices, thank you very much.
"Hey, Daniel? You ever wondered if we could make a human ovum really big- like chicken sized big- artificially and then harvest it from a woman and then cook it like a chicken ovum on the stove, do you ever wonder what that might taste like? Like, would it be all yolky and good for egg nog, do you think?" Reid's voice was dangerously sweet but he had his best I'm-going-to-gross-you-out-and-you-can't-stop-me face well in place.
Gideon shot his foster son a warning look.
"Not at the breakfast table, please. That's not appropriate." Gideon kept his voice very neutral. Took a calculated sip of coffee. Waited for Reid's move.
"Fine. But...hey? Hey Danny? Danny?" Reid was still grinning devilishly. He wasn't done yet.
"What?" The 12 year old swallowed and looked back at his friend, the ghost of a smile on his lips. All three of them knew Reid was going to be inappropriate. It was obvious. They also knew Gideon would have to step in as the responsible adult and put boundaries in place. It was a dance, Gideon knew, and an essential one, but the profiler just hoped Reid wouldn't be too descriptive. He was rather enjoying his breakfast. The bacon at least.
"Did you know that human flesh apparently tastes like pork and that's why-"
"Reid, I don't care if it's your birthday-party day, you are still a kid and I am still your dad and I can and will send you to your room. You are smart enough to know that that isn't breakfast table talk. That's the last time I am going to tell you."
"No. You just told me not to talk about science at the dinner table."
God help them both.
"It's the same table, Reid." Gideon said flatly. "No science where we eat. No hypothetical science. No science fiction. No biology. No pathology. If it wouldn't sell food on a commercial I don't want to hear it at this table." Gideon knew if he didn't cover every angle, Reid would find a loop-hole.
"Fiiiiiiiiine." Reid said, drawing out the word to display his contempt of being intellectually stifled. "But hey? Hey Gideon? Hey?"
Gideon ignored him and flipped the page of his paper. Hmm. Some of his stocks were up. Cool.
"Hey Gideon?" Reid persisted, leaning across the table to tug on his foster father's sleeve. Gideon carefully put the paper down.
"Am I going to like what you're going to say, or am I going to have to tell you to leave the table?" Gideon said simply, staring at the hyper little boy in front of him. Reid shut his mouth. Scratched the side of his head thoughtfully. Gideon could see the cranks and wheels and pistons all working in that little genius brain.
"Maybe...maybe I will tell you later. Okay?"
"Good boy." Gideon said simply and picked his paper back up again. He knew what this was. They had moved from Reid's early anxiety and panic and shock phase into his testing boundaries so he would know he wouldn't be rejected phase. It was kind of funny, actually, half of what the kid said.
"HOTCH!" Reid squealed with delight as the young attorney stepped into the living room. Kevin and Rossi had already arrived and were sitting on the living room sofa, battling it out on the Nintendo. A small little pyramid of gifts wrapped in various little-boy-themed wrapping papers had formed on the coffee table. Daniel was lazing on the couch with a can of pepsi-cola, looking about as relaxed as Gideon had seen him in the less-than-24-hours he had known him. The twelve year old had stepped out for about an hour at noon and returned with a plastic bag full of oddly shaped packages wrapped in newspaper and an envelope with the single word "Reid" scrawled on the front in childish cursive.
Hotch smiled that restrained, calm smile of his and nodded. "Reid. Happy birthday." The young man glanced over at Gideon, who had just let him in and offered two small wrapped packages.
"You can put them on the table." Gideon said simply, mouthing a thank you. Hotch nodded and added his two small items to the collection.
"Well, it's 3- what about we start the party?" Gideon said loudly, looking at Reid. Reid was hopping up and down with excitement. Literally.
"In 5 minutes, Jason..." David Rossi whined, pausing his game. "I am winning, here."
"No, NOW!" Reid yelled almost manically, and jumped onto the sofa, face etched with a comically large grin. The kid was being a brat. And he knew it. And he was revelling in it. Because it was his day. His birthday-party day. But it was more than that. He was happy to be celebrated, his existence, his day, but he was happy to be wanted. To be part of a family. And to know he could be a brat and act up and misbehave without having to worry that he would be hurt.
Gideon was certain that was a huge part of Reid's mildly irritating behaviour. And if the kid felt he needed to be a pain in the ass for a bit in order to feel safe and know he was loved, well... that was a need Jason Gideon was more than welcome to help satisfy. Within reason.
"Reid, please do not scream at your guests. David, please turn off the Nintendo." Gideon said mildly, using the same tone on his colleague as he had used on his almost-ten-year-old foster son. Rossi grinned and leaned over. Turned the television off. Gideon's colleague had one strawberry-flavoured fruit-roll up wrapped around his right pointer finger and was sucking on it. Reid had handed everyone a complimentary fruit roll-up when they arrived and now he handed a silver tube to Aaron Hotchner and said "They're good!"
Hotch took the candy and stared at it. Put it in his trench-coat pocket and then slipped out of said trench-coat. Gideon took the coat and placed it on the pile in the hall.
"No! You are supposed to eat it now!" Reid snapped at Hotch, racing back to the hall to get the fruit roll-up. He returned five seconds later with the candy and held it out to Hotch again. Gideon sighed.
"Reid. We do not go through other people's pockets, do we? That's very rude."
Gideon waited for the kid to yell or argue or run to his room or declare that this was his birthday-party day and therefore, all acts of rudeness were excused. Instead Reid looked sheepish and whacked himself on the head lightly, theatrically.
"I'm sorry, I'll go put it back!" Reid said giddily and off he scurried again, presumably to put it back in the same coat pocket he'd just "rudely" snatched it from.
Gideon glanced over at the young attorney; Aaron Hotchner was smiling, obviously amused. Gideon decided to let it go and not tell Reid that putting something back in a pocket was almost as bad as removing it in the first place. Reid was at least trying.
"He's very excited. Testing boundaries." Gideon said softly, before Reid had returned. Hotch nodded understandingly. He got it.
Reid returned a moment later, and he held a fruit roll-up in his hand. "I got you another one. I put that other one back and got you this new one. So you can eat it now."
Hotch took the candy and looked at it, as if he were studying some lost scroll. Finally chuckled softly at his client's innocent tenacity. A less brooding man would have laughed out loud. Reid watched him eagerly, and when the lawyer didn't immediately tear open the foil, Reid tried to help him. Finally the candy had been freed and Reid held it out.
"Eat it, you'll like it." Something about the way Reid was encouraging his attorney to eat the fruit roll-up reminded Gideon of that famous scene in E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial, when Elliot is trying to show new things to the alien. Oh boy.
Hotch took a bite, chewed. Swallowed. "Yes. It's good." He told Reid solemnly. Reid grinned wildly.
"I KNEW YOU WOULD JUST LOVE IT!" Reid screeched. Rossi looked over at Gideon and grinned widely.
"Yes, inside voice, Reid. Okay?"
It was going to be a long day.
"Okay, so first, I was thinking we could do the scavenger hunt. We have a dinosaur theme, here, people. There are six of us so we will work in teams of two. The first team to get everything on the list will get a prize." Gideon waited a beat. Everyone was nodding. Reid was squirming with excitement.
"I WANT TO BE ON HOTCH'S TEAM!" Reid screamed loudly, jumping up and down. Gideon stared over at the younger man, who looked a little overwhelmed by all of the boy's giddy shouting and covered his smile with his hand. That was just too funny.
"What about me? I thought you liked me?" Rossi said sulkily. "You didn't have to tell me to eat this thing twice..." Rossi motioned the fruit roll-up still wrapped around his finger with a nod of the head.
God, Rossi, don't encourage him, please...
"BUT HE IS MY LAWYER! LAWYER-CLIENT CONFIDENTIALITY IS NOW IN EFFECT SO HE HAS TO BE WITH ME ALL DAY LONG!"
"I think Reid has a point. I have to stay with him all day. It's a law that when a lawyer and a client are in close proximity, any and all transactions will be discussed with the client first. Since I assume this scavenger hunt is legally binding, I have to work with my client. To do otherwise would be a conflict of attorney-client interest." Hotch said this seriously, not an ounce of sarcasm in his voice. Reid stared at his attorney, blinked, obviously a little befuddled. Finally nodded.
They started to break up into teams then. Rossi, smartly, asked Daniel if he would like to team up with him and Danny said yes. That had been the plan anyway, so Rossi could analyze the kid and report back his findings. That meant Kevin was stuck with Gideon. They descended to the backyard with sheets of paper and a list of "items" to be found in or around the backyard.
Now that attorney-client privilege was in effect, Reid's voice had fallen to a whisper. Ironic, really, as they were now outside.
The living room table had a plastic Ninja Turtles table cloth on it. There were Ninja Turtles cups and plates and napkins and an ice cream cake with the Ninja Turtles on it from Dairy Queen with the candles already stuck in the top, waiting in the freezer. Plastic bowls of cheetohs and pretzels and tubes of Pringles were on the table, and a tray of brownies. 8 liters of soda pop: Pepsi, Dr. Pepper, Mountain Dew and finally Fresca for the old farts who didn't want the caffeine or the calories. Gideon had made 4 goodie bags (one for Hotch, Rossi, Daniel and Kevin) and filled them with dollar store crap Reid had helped him chose a week earlier in some magical wrinkle in time where "free time" had impossibly existed. Gideon and Kevin decorated and hung up streamers and blew up balloons while Reid, Hotch, Daniel and Rossi hunted around in the backyard for "Sunlight" to add to the list.
Finally Gideon decided they had decorated enough. He could also hear Reid yelling in the backyard that there was no way to capture sunlight for christ's sake and bring it inside in a freaking basket and that was that.
Gideon walked through the house, opened the back door. Hotch looked a little harried, despite all his professionalism.
"Okay, guys, you have been out here an hour."
"NOT YET! WE AREN'T DONE!" Reid squealed.
"I was thinking maybe we eat cake and open presents?" Gideon coaxed, smiling. Maybe Reid would drop the hunt. Maybe not.
"We're not finished either!" Rossi piped up. Danny was smiling at him. Apparently Reid's friend liked the one on one attention.
"How about whichever team has the most things from the list, wins?"
There was a moment of silence. Reid looked...unsure. He only wanted to say yes if he and Hotch had the "most things", obviously. He couldn't very well say that, though. Gideon sighed.
"Okay, 15 more minutes, tops. Then cake and presents."
Rossi and Daniel nodded good-naturedly. Rossi leaned over and whispered something to Daniel and Daniel smirked and nodded back. Hotch looked...tired. Reid still looked unsure. He would agree to 15 more minutes if he could be guaranteed to win in 15 more minutes.
"Yeah, but..."
"Even hunts have time limits, Reid. And if I hear you yelling from inside, the hunt is over. Hotch might be your attorney, but I am sure he doesn't need a migraine headache."
Aaron Hotchner looked so relieved and thankful at those words that the profiler had to bite the inside of his cheek, hard, so as not to laugh.
"15 minutes from when you said that, or 15 minutes from when you go back in the house?" Reid piped back up. Gideon sighed again. Rolled his eyes and held up his hands to indicate ten, then held up another hand. Five. He went back in the house, letting the screen door slam.
"Thank you Rossi!" Reid squealed. He had just ripped the paper off David Rossi's gift. A pair of walkie talkies. Good ones, not the cheap kids' stuff. Reid was beaming.
"At first I thought you and Jason could use 'em, but now maybe you want to give one to Danny? So you guys can spy and talk and stuff?"
Even Daniel grinned at that. Reid nodded. They had eaten cake and Reid still had ice cream smeared on his face. The table looked like a bunch of pigs, not humans, had been there. They were all wearing birthday hats, even Hotch, all that Reid had had to conjole him to put his own. Reid's hat was special, not a simple paper cone with an elastic band like the others, but a plastic crown from the dollar store. "Birthday Boy" had been molded into the front of the plastic and a battery in the thing made the "jewels" in the crown light up in a way that was definitely seizure-provoking. The hat had cost 4 dollars and 99 lousy cents and was worth every penny. Reid looked so proud to have that piece of plastic on his head.
"Hey, Danny...here, take one...we'll put batteries in them later and-"
"Reid, buddy, hold them up! Come on!" Gideon cajoled, and angled his camera to take a shot of Reid with the walkie talkies. He had a few dozen shots of them eating, Reid blowing out the candles on the cake, Reid making the first cut of his cake and now, opening his presents. Gideon had also snapped a few polaroids for Reid's scrapbook. Reid currently obeyed and held the box of walkie talkies high, grinning from ear to ear goofily.
Gideon snapped the picture and Reid looked around the table, like a little dictator.
"Who wants to give me their present next?" Reid said earnestly. Gideon fought back a grin.
"Here, open mine!" Daniel proclaimed, digging the gifts wrapped in newspaper out of the pile. Reid nodded. "Oh, the card comes first!" Daniel said excitedly.
Reid tore the envelope open and held the card up. It was a leaf rubbing that had been cut and glued on green construction paper. Inside, in gold letters were the words "Happy Birthday Spencer. I am glad you are my new friend. I hope you had a good first decade. From your new friend, Danny".
Reid read the card aloud and held it over for Gideon to admire. Gideon hadn't thought it was possible, but Spencer Reid's grin was even wider. His face was going to split if he didn't stop smiling soon.
"That is very nice of you, Danny." Gideon said honestly, shooting the older boy an approving smile. Daniel looked at his plate of half-melted ice-cream cake and blushed, embarrassed.
"Do you see, Gideon? He remembered I am into botany! And that my favourite color is green! Did you see?"
"I saw." Gideon confirmed, still smiling.
"I thought his favourite colour was blue..." Rossi mumbled and Gideon threw his colleague a dangerous look. David Rossi grinned, obviously delighted.
"Here, take a photo of me with this card!" Reid commanded and held the card up to his face. Gideon smiled and snapped a shot. Then Reid wanted a picture of the card with the Polaroid, and an extra one for Daniel...
"Reid, there are still more presents, pal."
Reid turned back to Daniel's presents and ripped the newspaper off them. There was a MAD magazine. Brand new. The current edition. A Cracked magazine, brand new, also current edition. An "Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction" digest and an "Alfred Hitchcock's Mystery" monthly digest. Both of these were brand new and current, as well. But that wasn't all: there was also a brand new X-Men comic and the latest copy of Scientific American. And after all that, there was a huge, jumbo sized bag of gummy worms, price tag still attached, a pez dispenser (it was Shredder from the Ninja Turtles)...and lo and behold, the price tag was still attached to that, too.
Reid looked down at all his gifts and then squealed in delight. He spread them out and made Gideon take photos of his new comic and magazine collection and his candy.
"That was quite generous of you, Daniel." Gideon said in a neutral tone of voice. The twelve year old shifted uncomfortably. "You know...he likes to read." Daniel mumbled and stared at his plate of ice cream.
Gideon and Rossi exchanged a look; partially concerned, partially amused. Gideon had no doubt that, aside from the hand-made card, every item Daniel had given Reid for his birthday had been shoplifted. No doubt Gideon would find out the truth eventually. Boys liked to brag about their shoplifting skills (Gideon remembered that all too well from his own early adolescence) and Daniel himself would probably admit the truth to Reid, and Reid, impressed, would tell Gideon.
"Um...that's all I got him..." Daniel said. Reid was still ogling his stuff excitedly.
"What's X-men? They any good?"
Daniel nodded quickly. Reid beamed. It was all well and good for adults to buy him things they thought he would like and should have, and for he, himself, to select toys and games but Reid had grown up so isolated that to have another kid give him stuff other kids were intoobviously meant a lot to Reid. It made him feel accepted. Normal, even.
"Okay, well...here is mine, little dude." Kevin said, breaking the silence. Reid was lost in his own little world. He'd opened the X-men comic and was flipping through it quickly, apparently done with socializing for now. Reid looked up and smiled. His eyes looked slightly glassy and his cheeks were flushed. No doubt he'd run around for a few more hours and then crash from all the sugar and excitement.
"Oh, yeah. Thanks!" Reid exclaimed. Gideon commented on the nice dinosaur paper but that didn't last long. Reid ripped the paper off and stared at the colourful box.
"It's this game. It's called Tangram. You get different cards, and you have to try and use the pieces in there to match the pictures in the cards..."
"COOL!" Reid shrieked. Gideon didn't know about Reid, but he was getting tired. Reid asked if he could play the game right then, and Gideon informed him that later might be best. Next came Hotch's gifts. Reid thanked Hotch again and then tore off the paper once again. The first was a book. Reid read the title out loud and the mood in the room instantly changed.
"People of the Lie: The Hope for Healing Human Evil by M. Scott Peck, M.D..." Reid trailed off, flipped the book over, quickly scanned the back of the book.
"I know it's not a kids' book, but I thought it might interest you. I found it interesting, myself."
"Thank you." Reid said softly, and held up the book for Gideon to take a photo, but his manic, goofy grin was gone. In its place was a thoughtful, almost pensive smile.
The second gift was a journal with a lock and a key. Gold leafed pages, real leather covers. Reid's initials had been stamped in the leather, little identations; capital S, capital R.
"Wow! Thank you, again. Look, Gideon. My own diary...it even has my initials engraved in the cover. I bet this was really expensive, huh?"
That got a chuckle out of the young lawyer.
"When I read the book, it really made me question things. The nature of evil, of goodness, everything. I thought you might like somewhere to write down any philosophical questions or theories you have when you read that."
"Yeah...thank you!" Reid, obviously, wasn't sure what to say. Gideon knew the boy had a platonic "crush" on Aaron Hotchner, the way little boys sometimes idolized super heroes or baseball stars. Hotch was cool, he was reserved, he was intelligent and he exuded a preternatural confidence which Reid, obviously, found emotionally alluring. And he obviously wanted Hotch to think highly of him, as well, which was why, Gideon suspected, the kid was so ga-ga over the thoughtful and mature gifts Hotch had bestowed upon him.
The gifts meant Hotch didn't see Reid as just a kid. They were thoughtful gifts. They were the gifts an intelligent adult might give another intelligent adult, not the gifts a new lawyer would give a ten year old he'd just met, and that was probably why Reid's expression had changed to something approaching awe.
"Thank you..." Reid said again, and Hotch chuckled. Told the boy he was welcome.
Gideon watched his foster son, and smiled. Took photos with Hotch's gifts. After the photos, unexpectedly, Reid got out of his chair and ran around the table to where Aaron Hotchner was sitting, watching the child prudently.
"Thank you very much!" Reid said for what had to be the fourth time and flung his arms around the young man in what amounted to a tackle-hug. Hotch grabbed the table to keep from tumbling backwards, righted his chair, and returned the hug.
"You're welcome, kiddo." The young man said tenderly, clearly surprised by Reid's reaction.
"And, your gift from me... it's out in the driveway." Gideon said then, butting in. Reid was hanging off Hotch like a happy little baby koala bear and as tactful as Aaron Hotchner was, Gideon knew the man was also not as outwardly affectionate as Reid and that being used as a make-shift jungle gym was probably not his idea of a stellar Saturday.
"You got me something too?" Reid said, clearly surprised. Gideon blinked.
"Of course. It's your birthday!" Gideon said happily.
"Oh! THANK YOU GIDEON!" Hotch was momentarily abandoned as Reid ran over to his foster father and crawled into his lap, hugging him tightly around the neck. The kid was obviously emotionally overwhelmed. Gideon couldn't remember him ever being this hyper or physically affectionate before.
"Okay, that's nice. Thank you for the hug, but you are choking me budddyyy..."
Reid instantly let go, a look of alarm on his face. Gideon rubbed his neck dramatically. Across the table, David Rossi snickered.
"Why don't you go check out your present. You can take Danny if you like?"
Reid exchanged glances with Danny and then they were up and running for the front door.
Gideon mentally counted. One. Two. Three. Fou-
And then it came. Screams. Happy, happy screams.
"A BIKE! I GOT A BIKE! HEY! DANNY LOOK, A BIKE! HEY LADY ACROSS THE STREET? DID YOU SEE THIS? THIS HERE? THIS IS MY NEW BMX, ISN'T IT COOL?"
The four men at the table heard every word perfectly, and all four of them were smiling.
"Quite an emotionally well-balanced kid you're raising there, Jason." Rossi said facetiously, grinning wider. Gideon grabbed a cheese-ball from one of the plastic bowls that hadn't been overturned and tossed it at David Rossi's head.
That's this chapter. INTPs are chatterers, when we're interested in something. This chapter might suck because I have major brain fog right now. Long story with the brain fog. I need to switch from my coenzyme co-q-10 gummies to the ubiquinol form and still need a bunch of other supplements to get my brain back online (my brain is my on-going experiment, or rather, healing it, I am working on changing it chemically with supplementation and herbs). I have auto-immune problems, so sometimes I will literally sleep 16 hours and wake up and feel like I just smoked a blunt. But I do have neuro issues, and it's a real pain so sometimes my writing reflects that.
So yeah, very spacey, so I hope this chapter turns out half decently. I just watched tonight's (it is now Wed, January 18th, 2012) episode of Criminal Minds (the copy-cat zodiac killer episode "True Genius") and Reid mentioned he had already turned 30 but the implication was his birthday wasn't long ago so he was obviously born early 1982 (in reality Matthew Gray Gubler was born in 1980 so I must've mixed up the dates of birth of the actor and the character, thus making Reid older in this fic than he would be on the show). Please either a) pretend it is 1992 and not 1990 or b) accept the mistake and realize I have self-diagnosed (*grin*) dyscalculia and would've messed up the birth date anyway. Even if I had looked it up.
Right now, besides this fiction and daily unavoidable duties, I am really interested in growing my own mealworms (darkling beetle larva, tenebrio molitor) to freeze, dry and then cook with. Insect recipes are my new hobby. I got my worm factory for vermicomposting last week and a wonderful clump of red wiggler worms. And I am making some clay dishes that look like cross-sections of plant and animal cells, etc... so, in other words, I forget about this story sometimes.
Oh yeah, the dream Gideon has at the beginning of this chapter is based on a repeating dream I had as a kid, which I then wrote a story about and painted. Those that like to dissect dreams might like dissecting this one (I will provide my own brief analysis in the next chapter's end of chapter a/n) but I started having these dreams when I first got into criminology at about 8 (I started writing to criminals on death row in multiple states as a young teen which is an interesting experience). Some parts of the dream were obviously changed to fit fictional Gideon's life, of course. Sorry, anyway, for not updating more regularly, or rather, being erratic in my updates. When I get reviews, I remember to write. If something external doesn't make me remember to do something, I usually don't do it because I am doing something else. It's a very non-linear, zen world I live in. Also, the word "filicide" refers to the killing of one's child, but not necessarily biological child (infanticide is the killing of an infant aged 12 months or less, but almost usually a newborn infant, so even though Reid would be considered an "infant" in the legal sense because he is under the age of majority, the term infanticide would not apply here).
The killing of one's own offspring (biological child) has its own name: Prolicide. So, yeah...happy thoughts, people. Review. Please!
Oh yeah, we're looking more at 50 chapters for this than 40. Like I said before, it's hard to predict these things. Sheesh. I always underestimate how long things take to do... and I am not really going to edit this chapter because I want to post it. Any glaring typos or mistakes, please ignore. If I re-read it to fix it, I might fix some typos but more than likely I will also delete and rewrite huge sections of it, and this story will never, ever, ever, ever, ever meet its maker.