Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds.
"Loving can cost a lot but not loving always costs more, and those who fear to love often find that want of love is an emptiness that robs the joy from life." – Merle Shain
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10 April 2010
Taking in a deep breath, he had to drop the box and grab the counter to remain upright. Stunned, Spencer shakily lowered himself to the ground and sat on the cold tile floor, leaned heavily against the wall and stared at the pregnancy tests in his hand.
Calliope's pregnant?
"Oh my God."
He was going to be a dad? A biological, diaper-changing, lullaby singing, the-baby-might-have-his-eyes dad. How long had she known? When was she going to tell him?
He needed to breathe.
Spencer leaned his head back and breathed a few slow breaths and tried to slow the thoughts racing through his minds so he'd be able to unscramble what his thoughts long enough to figure out what he was thinking. So much about this made no absolutely sense.
Emeline. How were they going to tell Emeline?
Pulling the ever-present picture of his little girl out of his pocket, he studied her toothy smile, happy brown eyes, crinkly brown pigtails. Emeline sat in Calliope's lap holding the gold-painted wooden star he'd given her in one hand and clutching Perses' bright purple collar with the other. He had been holding the camera and she'd been in the middle of saying 'Poppy' when he'd snapped the picture. Spencer liked it that way; it made it seem as if she were still a few feet in front of him waiting for him to come pick her up.
He groped in his pocket for his phone and hit the 'nine' button, the button that would call Emeline's phone, before holding it to his ear and waited. Marie, the nanny he and Calliope had hired to help Chanté care for Emeline, answered and he listened to her update him for a few minutes before asking to speak to Emeline.
"Poppy?"
Emeline's voice was breathy and excited when she said his name and he smiled, feeling a sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his chest knowing nothing had happened to her since he talked to her yesterday.
"Hey, Princess," Spencer smiled into the phone and closed his eyes. "How's my baby girl? I miss you, Eme."
"I miss you, Poppy. When are you coming home?"
"Maman and I are going to come see you in June, remember? Do you remember how many months it is from April to June?"
"Too many."
"I know, Princess. Two months is way too many, but I couldn't get away from work until then."
"Tell me about work again, Poppy."
"You don't want to hear about that," Spencer smiled and shook his head.
"Yes, I do!"
"You sure?"
"Yeah!"
"Alright. If you're sure. What do you want to hear?"
"Matant and Totò!"
"Your aunts and uncles?" Spencer tried not to laugh. Emeline had seen a picture of the team on Calliope's computer and had instantly become fascinated. She had fixated on them and loved to hear stories.
He told her two stories, one about when Kevin tried to send Penelope flowers for her birthday, but the florist had made a mistake and sent her a bouquet with a note saying "congratulations on the new job!" and the resulting mess that the mix up caused and a second about the time J.J. was waiting in the round table room with baby Henry when the team returned after a case.
Spencer listened happily to Emeline talking about the adventure she and Yva had had on her tricycle this morning, down to the slug Yva had decided to keep as a pet and promptly squashed when she forgot she'd put the slub in her pocket and the scraped palm Emeline had gotten when she fell off the Yva's papa's swing set. Yva's papa was the centaur from next door. He explained the difference between a centaur and a senator for Emeline one more time and told her that, yes, he loved the drawing she'd sent him and he had hung it up in his office at home.
"Poppy?"
"Yes, Princess?"
"When will Maman be Maman again?"
"What do you mean, Eme?"
"Maman's sad. She's happy, but her eyes are sad, like Gogo's eyes. She doesn't send pictures anymore. She draweded me pictures all the time, but not anymore."
"Don't worry about Maman, Princess. I'll get her better, okay? She'll be okay soon. I have a feeling she'll be Maman again really soon," Spencer looked down at the pregnancy tests resting on his thigh and let himself think briefly of the little girl with red curls who so often haunted his dreams. Thinking of his dream girl, his little Bailey, he felt a harsh pain in his chest when he knew, though he might get his Bailey, he still wouldn't have his Emeline, his little Princess. As selfish as he felt for thinking it, he knew, if he could, he'd do practically anything to have his little girl running around the house or riding her tricycle in the yard, to fall asleep on the couch with her, teach her her ABCs or tuck her in at night after reading her one of the fairytales she loved and checking for monsters in the closet.
"Good. Emeline doesn't like sad Maman."
"Poppy doesn't like sad Maman either." How had this three-year-old girl invaded his life, his heart, so quickly? How had she become one of the three single most important people in his life in less than an hour? The moment he looked down and realized she'd fallen asleep in his arms, no more than six hours after he'd first met her, he knew he was hers for the rest of his life.
The hands on his watch showed four thirty by the time he and Emeline ended their phone call after a round of 'no, I love you more,' 'naw-uh, I love you more.' She had the strange ability to turn him into the child he'd never truly been.
Spencer held the phone for a little while, thinking, before he slipped it back into his pocket and picked the pregnancy tests up off his thigh. Calliope definitely wasn't showing yet, so he reasoned she wasn't too far along yet. About three months was his best calculation, so she was either just about out of the first trimester or had just started the second. That made sense. The first two months, the baby was an embryo, so there wasn't anything to show and the third month, the fetus was just beginning to grow.
But, then, Calliope was so skinny, wouldn't any mass growing inside her have been noticeable to him? The fetus had no fat cushion to hide behind in Calliope's abdomen. He should have noticed, at least in the last few weeks once the fetus had developed. But Calliope was little and he, though he was tall, was very thin, his father was rather small, at least for a man. Calliope's mother had been little like Calliope, so had Ben's mother. Maybe their baby was simply too small to show yet, despite how thin Calliope was.
Spencer needed to get her to the doctor now more than ever. Maybe he should call back and see if they had an opening before Wednesday. Was she taking prenatal vitamins? He hadn't seen any new bottles in the bathroom, but he really never looked, just grabbed what he needed and closed the medicine cabinet. He never studied the cabinet's contents before, never had a reason to.
Standing up, he opened the cabinet and rooted around, but came up empty. There was nothing in there to suggest she was on any prenatal medicine. In fact, there was nothing at all that a gynecologist would have prescribed besides a half-used packet of Yaz. Making a mental note to go pick up vitamins, he closed the cabinet.
Looking back at the tests in his hand, he could feel himself getting upset, getting angry. She wasn't taking care of herself and that was bad enough, but she wasn't taking care of their child. Their child couldn't take care of itself. It needed Calliope to take care of it by taking care of herself. She wasn't just starving herself – she was starving their baby. She hadn't told him. She was at least three months pregnant and she hadn't told him.
He shook his head and picked up the box from the ground, walking out of the bathroom, through their bedroom to the living room where Calliope sat on the couch with the book still in her lap. He leaned against the wall, watching silently for a bit as she read and absently tossed the tennis ball for Perses, waited until he came back, took the slobbery ball from him and then threw it again.
Pushing off, Spencer walked to where she could see him and, before she could say anything, he held up the box. She paled visibly.
"When were you going to tell me?"
"Spencer, I –"
"Were you going to tell me? Were you just going to wait until I figured it out?"
"Spencer –"
"I mean, I would have found out eventually. This isn't exactly something you could keep from me forever. Is this why you've been so depressed? Do you not want to be pregnant? I thought… I don't know, seeing you with Eme and Jack, I thought you wanted kids."
"Spencer, please –"
"No, Calliope, you're pregnant. You have to take care of yourself; our baby needs you to take care of yourself. Not taking care of or feeding yourself is one thing, but –"
"I'm not pregnant, Spencer." Calliope blurted out, biting her bottom lip and looking away from him. "There's no baby."
"You… you got rid of our child?" Spencer felt like he'd been slugged in the stomach with a baseball bat. He couldn't form a complete thought, which had never happened to him. Nothing had ever stopped him so dead in his shoes that he couldn't complete a thought. He sometimes thought too fast to be fully conscious of everything he thought, but he'd never in his life not been able to think. "You didn't even… you didn't even talk to me about it. You didn't even tell me. You just…"
"Spencer…"
"I've… I've, um…" Spencer blinked and dropped the box onto the table before turning around walking towards the foyer. He barely registered the noise of Calliope dropping the book with a thud and scrambling after him, Perses barking excitedly.
"Spencer, wait!"
"I have to get out of here. I need to… I need to think. I can't think. I can't think here. I need…" Grabbing his keys, he walked out the front door and walked through the puddle this mornings rain had left to his car as quickly as his knee would let him. He could hear her running after him as he slipped into the rundown car and rubbed his temples with his hand. Turning the key in the ignition, he let the car rumble to life and backed out of the driveway, careful not to looking at Calliope crying on the pavement.
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She sat in the driveway long after the Volvo had disappeared from the service road to their secluded home and her bottom had become soaked through from the wet ground, just sobbing and wishing he would come back. Unable to fully see through her tears and puffy eyes, Calliope stumbled back into the house, followed the halls to their bedroom, and crawled under the covers of their bed. She buried her face in Spencer's pillow and smacked her hand on the bedside table until she connected with the button that closed the blackout blinds.
And just lay in the dark and cried her heart out.
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"Reid? What are you doing here?" Aaron asked, concerned, as he took in the worn expression and blood shot eyes of his young friend.
"I – I need to… I, um – I need to talk. Do you have a couple minutes?" Spencer stood outside the door pacing and fiddling with the keychain on his keys.
Aaron didn't offer a verbal answer; rather, he stood aside and let Spencer into the apartment. After waving hello to Jack, who sat watching cartoons in the living room, Spencer resumed pacing and fidgeting until Aaron handed him a glass of scotch.
"Thanks."
"Jack, Dr. Reid and I are going to go talk in my office. That's where I'll be if you need me, ok?"
"Ok, Daddy."
When the door was closed behind them, Aaron kept quiet, giving the younger man time to start. He'd seen his friend worried and upset, terrified, but never quite like this – this was a mixture of pure panic and devastation. About what, he didn't know.
Spencer stared at the painting of Aaron, Haley and Jack that hung on the opposite end of the room, the painting with Calliope's signature drawn with the style of Japanese calligraphy in the bottom right hand corner in her trademark silver paint. He'd seen her paint that sign at least fifty times, he could see the way her fingers flexed, the subtle movement of her wrist, the twitching of muscle in her arm as the design took shape with a few deliberate strokes.
"Calliope… she's…" Spencer started and stopped, shaking his head before starting again. "Calliope's pregnant. I got her pregnant."
Sensing there was more to this than that announcement, Aaron waited for him to continue instead of giving the congratulations instinct prompted.
"Shit, I got her pregnant, Hotch." Spencer ran a hand over his face before turning blood shot eyes on Aaron. "What am I even doing with her? I mean, seriously? I don't belong with her. She doesn't belong with me. I don't know what to do in her world. Every time I go with her to a function I can feel people staring at me wondering why the hell I'm there. Brenda hates me. Calliope should be with someone from her world, someone Brenda approves of, someone from an old Southern family with more money than God. Not some awkward FBI agent who doesn't have a clue."
"Well, whether or not you think you should be with her, she's carrying your son or daughter now. You have a responsibility – to her and to your baby."
"No, I don't."
"What?" Aaron stared at him, startled.
"I don't have any responsibility. She doesn't need or what my help making any decisions. That, she's made pretty damn clear."
"You're going to abandon your child?" Aaron watched, incredulous. He'd known him for six years and had never heard Spencer say anything so rash. If he heard this second hand, he would have laughed at whoever told him. The last thing he would ever have expected of Spencer was for him to abandon his child the way his father had abandoned him.
"Calliope – she… she had an abortion. She got rid of our child without even telling me she was pregnant. She didn't give me a choice. I only know now because I accidently found two positive pregnancy tests she'd hidden in the back of a drawer when I was looking for a new thing of toothpaste. She didn't even tell me!
"Why would she have an abortion? Abortions are so unbelievably dangerous. They have over a hundred possible complications. Internal bleeding, chronic abdominal pain, infection, fevers, endotoxic shock, convulsions, Rh sensitization, cervical laceration. Twenty seven percent of women who have abortion get an infection that lasts for three or more days. Three to five percent become sterile as a result of abortion and they're at a three to four percent higher risk of secondary infertility. A-a-a, uh, a doctor could accidently puncture the bladder or intestines when they perforate the uterus."
"Reid –"
"They can cause horrible effects on subsequent pregnancies. Having an abortion raises the premature birth risks from thirty percent to five hundred and ten percent. Five hundred and ten! More importantly then that is low birth weight. If a woman has an abortion they're more likely to give birth to an infant with a low birth weight and, when you combine chronic low birth weight to begin with and premature birth obviously lowers the weight more. A child who weights less than fifteen hundred grams at birth can have cerebral palsy at a rate thirty eight times greater than the general population of infants."
"Reid –"
"She could – she could have hemorrhaged and, if that happened, could have then contracted Hepatitis. Scientists think abortions might cause breast cancer farther on in life. The number of cases of breast cancer in the U.S. has increased by fifty percent since abortion was legalized. Hotch, she barely has breasts to begin with! She's tiny. All of her is tiny. If the scientists turn out to be right and she gets breast cancer, it would spread beyond her breasts to other parts of her body quickly."
"Reid, calm down," Aaron told him, shoving a bottle of water into his hands. "Spencer. Spencer! You're hyperventilating. Here, sit down. Have some water. You're going to give yourself a panic attack. Take a few deep breaths and calm down."
"I love her, Hotch," Spencer moaned, his voice soft and deeply pained.
"I know you do."
"Why would she do this?"
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"He's not with you. Ok, thanks anyways, Emily. Hmm? Oh, I don't know. I'll find out when I find him. Thanks, Emily. I'll talk to you later."
Calliope hit the end button and took another sip of her espresso before finding the next person in her phone's contact list. Hitting the send button, she held the phone to her ear and waited until the call was answered as she navigated the I–Ninety-Five towards Quantico, Washington more specifically.
"Hey, Pen. It's me. Is Spencer with you?"
"Nope. I haven't seen Wonder Boy since I left. Why? What's up?"
"We had a fight. Well, sort of."
"About the –"
"Yes, about that."
"Did you tell him or did he find out?"
"He found out."
"You should have told him when it happened."
"I know, you're right, but how exactly do you tell someone something like that? Especially Spencer?"
"I dunno, Luce. I've never had to deliver that particular news to anyone. Do you think it's going to be ok? You and Reid, I mean."
"I hope so. He didn't let me say anything and then he just left."
"He loves you. He'll come back when he cools down. He probably just needs to think. You know how he likes to do the whole thinking thing. I think it's highly overrated at times, but I can't seem to convince him of it."
Calliope gave a noncommittal response and took another sip of espresso. "Thanks, Pen. I needed that. I'm going to call Derek and see if Spencer's there."
"Kay. Keep me updated, ok?"
"Will do. In a while, crocodile."
"See ya later, alligator."
It was mere seconds before Calliope was listening to ringing again and waiting for the phone to be answered.
"Hey there, Cal. How's my favourite Toothpick? I haven't heard from you in a month."
"I know. I'm sorry. I'm better. I've snapped out of it. But, I'm not too hot. From the tone of your voice, I take it Spencer isn't with you."
"No, he's not. What's going on?"
"Call Pen. She can explain. I need to call Hotch and see if Spencer's with him. I've already talked to Pen, Emily, J.J. and Dave. He's not with them. So Hotch is my last bet. If he's not with Hotch, I don't know where he is. Call Ethel and she'll fill you in on the sordid details of the latest rock and hard place Lucy's wedge herself between."
"You're ok though, right?"
"Yeah, I'm ok. I'll be better once I talk to Ricky and hash this all out."
"Alright. Don't do anything stupid."
"When do I ever? Don't answer that."
"Bye, Lucy."
"Bye, Fred."
Three calls to Hotch's cell proved unsuccessful until she called the home phone.
"Hey there, Jack Attack."
"Hi, Aunt Callie."
"What are you up to, Sweetie?"
"Watching tv and playing with my Legos. I'm building a really big tower! It's bigger than me."
"That's amazing! Jack, is your dad around?"
"He's in his office talking with Uncle Spencer."
"Okay. Thanks, Jack Attack. I'm going to be there in half an hour – one cartoon. When I do our knock, can you let me in?"
"Yes."
"Thanks, Jack. I'll see you soon, okay?"
"Bye, Aunt Callie."
"Bye, Jack. I love you."
"I love you too, Aunt Callie."
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"Damn, are you serious, García?" Derek reached into his fridge and pulled out two root beers, one for him and one for Penelope. Closing the door with his foot, he turned and walked into the living room where he'd left her.
"I can't believe I've never been to your house before," Penelope took the root beer from him and looked around.
"Not a lot of people come to my house," Derek shrugged as if it didn't matter and looked at the picture frame Penelope had picked up.
"Because of…" she trailed off, gesturing around the room with the unopened bottle.
Derek nodded and eased the picture frame from her hand and put it back in its place, shifting it a few inches until it stood in precisely the place it had been before Penelope picked it up.
"You never told me. I thought we were friends," Penelope's eyes were hurt and Derek filled with guilt for keeping this from her.
"We are friends, Baby Girl. You're my best friend," he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and kissed her temple.
"No. Best friends tell each other things like this, Derek. Hell, friends tell each other things like this. Neighbours know things like this about their neighbours. We're just co-workers; you and I are just acquaintances who flirt a lot."
"García, please don't. Don't read that much into this."
"What am I supposed to read into this? I mean, this is a big chuck of information. This is a whole mess of important. And you didn't tell me. I thought we told each other everything."
"I don't tell anybody about this part of my life, Baby Girl. Hotch knows because it was in my personnel folder, but no one else on the team knows."
"Does your mom know?" García looked down to see an orange tabby cat purring and rubbing itself against her legs. Looking at Derek for permission, she waited until he nodded to reach down and pick the cat up. "You're pretty, little lady. I thought you only had Clooney. What's this girl's name?"
"Her name's Crookshanks. And yes, of course my mom and sisters know."
"Crookshanks? Like from Harry Potter?"
"Yeah. Like from Harry Potter."
"I didn't know you were a Harry Potter fan," Penelope frowned and looked down at the cat.
"I'm not. I mean, I like Harry Potter, but I wouldn't say I'm a fan. I've read the books and watched the movies, but… yeah. Anyways, Crookshanks was her name when I got her. Her previous owner named her."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"About my cat?"
"No, I mean, about all of this," Penelope gestured around the room again.
"I don't talk about this, Baby Girl. I just don't. It's nothing personal and it has nothing to do with whether or not I consider you a friend, because, as far as I'm concerned, you are my best friend. I just don't talk about it. Ever. With anyone. My mom and my sisters have stopped trying to bring it up. Please understand, García."
"I don't understand. Why? Why don't you talk about it?"
"Alright. I'll tell you, okay? But can you explain what's going on with Reid and Cal first? That's a little more pressing than this. But, I promise, after you tell me about those two dysfunctional kids, I will tell you anything you want to know. I promise."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"One question first?" Derek nodded and Penelope looked back at the photograph. "What's her name?"
"Sammie."
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Jack opened the door and grinned up at Calliope, who stooped down a second and kissed him before punching the code into the alarm pad. Jack, blissfully unaware that his family unit was freefalling into complete disarray, grabbed his aunt's hand and pulled her into the living room to see his giant Lego tower. Calliope was 'ohhing' and 'ahhing' appropriately when Aaron came swiftly out of the office.
"Jack, who was at the door. You know you're not supposed to answ –" Aaron stopped both his speaking and moving when he saw Calliope.
"It was Aunt Callie, Daddy. I can answer for Aunt Callie or Aunt Jessica, 'member?"
"I remember, Buddy."
Calliope stood up and moved away from the four-year-old towards Aaron. "I know he's here, Aaron."
"Callie, I don't think this is a good idea. He's really upset. I think you should go."
"Aaron, please. He doesn't understand. I have to talk to him. Please, Aaron. He doesn't understand."
"Alright," Aaron said slowly, as if he still weren't sure about letting her see Spencer. "He's in the office. But if he doesn't want to see you, you have to go."
Calliope nodded, kissed Jack one more time and hurried down the hallway to find Spencer. Quietly easing the office door open, she slipped inside and closed the door behind her just as quietly. Spencer looked up at the noise and Calliope wanted to start crying again at the look in his eyes. Neither of them spoke for a quarter of an hour – Calliope too afraid to speak and Spencer in too much pain.
Calliope spoke first.
"Spencer, please…" She kept her voice quiet and steady, or she tried to, as she inched towards where he sat. "Please, listen to me. Give me a chance to explain. You don't understand."
"I don't understand? What don't I understand, Calliope?" Spencer's voice was harsh and angry. "You got rid of our baby without telling me you were even pregnant. You just got rid of her like she was a piece of junk mail you didn't want."
"Spencer…" Calliope's eyes watered and her nose tingled dangerously at his words, at the way he said what he said.
"Then you went into a terrible depression and you wouldn't tell me what was wrong. You wouldn't even talk to me. You pulled away every single damn time I tried to hold you. You got rid of our child and then made the next month a living hell for me. And now it's just gotten worse because I know she's gone and you didn't even think my opinion was worth asking. You had an abortion without even telling me our baby existed."
As he spoke, his voice became more and more angry. The more he thought about what Calliope had done, the more he hurt and the angrier he got.
"Where did you get the right to throw away our child without, at the very least, telling me you were pregnant? How do you figure that? Because I don't understand. Finally, something makes absolutely no sense to me. I don't understand."
"It wasn't a she."
"He then. Whatever. It doesn't make a difference now, does it?"
"Yes, it does."
"If it matters, why did you go through with the abortion? I thought you wanted kids? I mean, you love children. You teach them, you're with them all the time. You love Jack. You love Emeline. You wanted to adopt Emeline. She calls you 'mommy,' Calliope. I've seen how you are with her. You're her mom. She adores you and you're crazy for her. You want kids. I know you do. Why don't you want ours?
"Is that it? You didn't want him because I'm the father? You want children, but only if they're not mine. I'm okay to date and sleep with, but not to have a child with, not to marry or be a family with? You've just been using me for fun?"
"That's not true and you know it," Calliope stepped closer to him and reached out, but Spencer jerked away from her and stood up.
"I don't know what's true anymore, Calliope! I thought I did. I thought I knew you, but I guess I was just kidding myself. Wishful thinking, right? I fell for you and, by some miracle, you seemed to fall for me, but I guess I just tricked myself into thinking you actually loved me because that's what I wanted to believe. People do it all the time: make themselves believe something that isn't true. My mom's done it all her life so why shouldn't I?"
"Spencer! Don't say that. You know I love you."
"No, I don't. I don't know anything about you. The Calliope I thought I knew never would have even thought about having an abortion. She would have been ecstatic to find out she was pregnant. She would have been busting at the seams to tell me. I don't know this woman. I don't know you."
"Spencer, please listen to me. You don't understand."
"No. I'm tired of being understanding. I always understand. I'm not going to be understanding anymore. For once, I think I have the right to be anything but understanding. You terminated your pregnancy and then had García lie to me about what was wrong!"
"Leave Penelope out of this. She hasn't done anything wrong."
"She knew you got rid of my child and I didn't! She knew you were pregnant and I didn't! How is that not wrong?"
"Damnit, Spencer, listen to me!"
"Why? So you can lie to me some more? You'll love any child in the world, but you got rid of ours. You were ready to adopt in a heartbeat and then didn't want our baby. You put together a bedroom for Jack and offered to take him without hesitating a second, but God forbid you have ours. You'll love any child, but not mine. Mine you'll throw away like it's trash.
"That's it, isn't it? It wasn't mine, was it?" A sick part of Spencer, a part he didn't realize existed within him, enjoyed the look of horror on Calliope's face when he asked if the baby was his. "You got lonely when the team left and so you went and found someone else to keep you entertained. You knew it wouldn't look like me and that I'd figure it out so you had an abortion. You got rid of the evidence. That's all people are to you, right? Entertainment? Just pieces on a chessboard you can manipulate for your own amusement. Maybe it wasn't just a one-night stand. Maybe I was so in love with you that I didn't notice every time I left you pulled this other man out."
His face stung.
He felt the searing sting before he fully realized she had slapped him across the face with an amount of force and strength he never would have suspected she possessed. Her eyes were fiery and furious behind the angry tears that weld there, waiting to spill down her cheeks.
"You asshole," her voice was shaking with uncontrolled rage. "You asshole. I never, ever cheated on you and you fucking know it. I wait for you while you're away, worrying that something might happen to you and you tell me I'm cheating on you? I waited twenty-seven years to have sex. I waited for you, you jackass! You seriously think I'm that cheap that I'd go fuck another guy because I'm lonely? If that's what you think about me, why the hell were you with me in the first place?
"I was never pregnant, you ass. There was no baby."
"What?" Spencer felt the baseball bat to his stomach for the second time in less than three hours and the floor seemed to drop out beneath him. He dropped back into the chair as his legs gave out and his mind reeled.
"I wasn't pregnant. Maybe if you'd taken a second to listen to me so I could explain, you'd still be in a relationship." Calliope spat the last sentence at him and turned on her heel, leaving him sitting in the office grappling for some semblance of firm footing, but he couldn't find any solid ground.
"Aunt Callie?" Jack's voice stopped her as she reached for the doorknob. Pushing a smile on her face and quickly wiping her eyes, she turned and squatted down to be on his level. Jack hesitated a second before running into her arms and hugging her tight, tucking his face into the crook of her neck. "You're not gonna go away, are you?"
"Oh, baby. I'm not going anywhere, Jack. I'm always gonna be here for you. I'm your aunt and you're my favoritest nephew. I love you, baby." Calliope's eyes watered and she took a shaky breath. Tilting her head, she kissed his forehead and hugged him tighter. "I'm not going away. Never, ever. I promise, Jack."
"You were yelling like Mommy and Daddy did."
"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so, so sorry. I promise you, no matter what happens ever, I will always be here. I'm never going to leave you, okay?"
"But… if you and Uncle Spencer yell like Mommy and Daddy, you'll have to go away to Heaven like Mommy," Jack started crying and clinging to her neck.
"No, no, baby. It doesn't work like that. Mommy going to Heaven had nothing to do with Mommy and Daddy yelling. I'm not going to Heaven. I'm staying right here with you. We have to have our parties when Daddy goes away to catch the bad guy. I have to take you to football practice and to school. I have to stay here and take care of you, Jack Attack."
"You're not going anywhere?"
"Never, ever."
Calliope cuddled the boy a little longer before she explain that she had to go home and take care of Perses otherwise he was going to go to the bathroom all over the house and that would be bad. Once the little boy was smiling again, she kissed him goodbye and left.
"Penelope?" She couldn't contain her tears any longer as she held the phone to her ear and started crying.
"Calliope? Hunny, what's wrong?" Penelope waved a hand at Derek to shut him up and covered her ear to try and hear Calliope better.
"It's over. We're not together anymore."
"Oh, Luce. I'm on my way. Just give me an hour and I'll be there." Grabbing her purse, Penelope stood up and ran over to where she'd left her shoes.
"What's going on?" Derek asked, following the woman in confusion.
"Reid and Calliope broke up," she whispered, shoving her feet into her heels.
"Fucking hell…"
"I'm not at home, Pen. I'm at Aaron's apartment. I'm sitting in my car."
"Don't you dare drive, Luce. Derek and I'll come get you. Just hold on, okay?"
ooo ooo ooo ooo
Spencer stared at his hands, trying to figure out what had happened. Calliope was gone and he doubted she was coming back. He dropped his head into his hands and cried.
What had he done?
A/N:
OHMYGAAAWD WORLD CUP! I loooooooooooooove soccer. Go Team USA! I have a ginormous crush on Tim Howard. I have a thing for goal minders, both hockey goal minders and soccer keepers. There's something unbelievably hot about them. I haven't quite figured it out yet, I've just accepted it as truth. Haha SDFKSNDFSD Did any of yall watch the USA-England game? Oh my God. When Howard went down I was flipping the hell out. I kept talking to the sportscasters and players on TV and Mum kept asking what I was saying, so I'd tell her I was talking to the TV. All she said was, "Okay. Tell me if they talk back." Hahahahaha. I love my Mum.
Anywayssss... I've started a new story about Derek called Cracked Concrete. It's part of the Mystery Muse universe and what happens in it will become highly important later in this story so I really suggest reading it, but, like always, you don't have to. But don't worry! Cracked Concrete will in no way affect Mystery Muse or its updates. Promise!
I hope you liked this chapter! Thanks so much for reading! Please, tell me what you think, good or bad!
Love, Thalia
P.S. I'm not preaching anything about abortion and whether it's good or bad in this chapter. I simply looked up facts and used them. If you want my opinion on abortion, Roe vs. Wade and all that mess, feel free to message me, but I'm not saying anything about what I believe in this chapter. No offense was meant to anyone.