(Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds or its characters)

Thank you to fishtrek, Merlin 2001, Roxycall18, Mob85, AyeraeW, Caroliny Hotchner, Jesuslover123, Guest, Guest, and, Abcd for reviewing chapter 15.

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"We'll just... tell the lawyers your suspicions and-"

"Leave it?"

Rossi raised an eyebrow at Hotch who just shook his head.

"This isn't our fight anymore."

"This is Spencer's biological parents, of course it's our fight," Dave said, frustration clinging to his voice.

Aaron ran a hand through his hair. "What are we supposed to do with that information?" he asked. "Spencer's already traumatised, do you really want to make it worse?"

Dave shook his head, sitting heavily into his office chair. "We won't involve Spencer. I'll record him saying what he saw but I won't have him dragged to court," he said and Aaron breathed out a sigh of relief. He thumbed over some photos littering Dave's desk, glancing up at Dave to continue. The older man looks weary, his feature riddled with guilt.

"And I'll confront Reid, see if he will confess."

Aaron raised his gaze to Dave's determined eyes. "I don't think he'll go for that."

Dave snorted. "Perhaps not, unless I suggested tipping those loan sharks to his new location."

Aaron swallowed thickly but nodded, knowing it was what the man deserved. He looked back up at his partner with a sad smile and reached across the desk to take David's hand into his. Dave looked up. "I will stay here," Aaron said. "Jack, Spencer, and I will be fine here if you're sure about this. The boys need stability so you need to decide."

Dave looked panicked suddenly and he stammered something unintelligible before he said, "If I'm right about this you know I have to go."

Aaron smiled and nodded, squeezing Dave's hand. "I know. But I'm staying here."

They were silent for a long moment, just watching each other, exchanging words through their looks to one another. Finally, Aaron let go of Dave's hand.

"You better be back Saturday, Spencer's meeting Henry and Michael and you can't leave me and JJ with four boys."

Dave chuckled. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Aaron turned to go but Dave grabbed his wrist quickly, forcing Aaron to look back at him. "Aaron, you know I have to finish this. We need to be able to draw a line under it, for Spencer's sake and we can't do that until-"

"You need closure," Aaron said while Dave stuttered.

"W-What?"

"Dave, I know you. You can't leave this case when you know it's not finished. I understand."

Aaron smiled and gently pulled his arm away from Dave.

"I'm doing this for Spencer," Dave said.

"I know."

"Where's papa going?" Jack asked, watching after Rossi's car which had just left the driveway. He hopped off the window ledge and walked over to his father who was at the hall window, Spencer clutching at his leg.

"He's sorting some things out, nothing to worry about, boys."

Spencer clenched his fingers into the fabric of Hotch's pants and looked down guiltily.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" he mumbled. "I sent him away." Spencer bit the inside of him gum hard so as not to cry.

Aaron looked down sharply, shaking his head as he did. "No, Spencer. Dave just has to sort some things out. He'll be back in a few days, okay."

Spencer poked his lip out and looked down at the door again. Aaron reached down and carded his hand through Spencer's hair.

"Sorry," Spencer whispered.

"Buddy, you have nothing to be sorry about. I promise." Aaron glanced up at the window again, wishing Dave hadn't gone after all.

Jack glanced at Spencer who had his face pressed into his dad's leg. The older boy felt a swell of sadness inside him when his dad leaned down and shushed Spencer.

Jack stood for a moment, thinking. He was a big brother now, which meant he had to look out for his little brother.

Jack walked over to Spencer who was wiping his tears against Aaron who was trying to hug him.

Jack stepped behind him and put his hands on Spencer's shoulders. "Why don't we do something fun?" suggested the older boy. Spencer sniffled and looked up.

"Like what?" he mumbled and Jack grinned.

"Whatever you want."

Spencer rubbed his red cheeks and glanced behind them, his eyes narrowing on his red boots waiting at the back door. Jack followed his gaze.

"You wanna go outside?" Jack asked. Spencer looked up sheepishly, then at Aaron.

"You can tell us, Spencer," Aaron said. Spencer pointed at his boots.

"Can we take Mudgie for a walk?" Spencer whispered. The whole walking thing had become less of a chore in their household. Spencer seemed to find a sense of calm from it and he looked forward to doing it each day.

Jack grinned and grabbed Spencer's hand. "Come on then, let's get our boots."

Spencer sniffled again before smiling and following Jack with a spring in his step.

Rossi took Morgan with him, explaining his suspicions on the short flight to William Reid's prison which, as Dave had promised, was away from Nevada.

Morgan was angry by the time they'd gotten a car to take them the rest of the way. He was gripping the wheel intensely while he drove, glaring at the road ahead of him while Rossi shuffled through some files.

"Right under our noses," Morgan muttered, his fingers momentarily flexing before encircling the steering wheel once again with their clammy grip.

Dave glanced up, nodding slightly at Morgan who wasn't watching.

"I knew," Derek said. "There was just something off with him, aside from the ordeal with Spencer and his sister. I knew he had something else hidden."

"I had the same feeling but we were so preoccupied with Spencer."

"How is he, by the way?" Morgan glanced at Dave who smiled.

"Much better than he was. He's comfortable with me, Aaron, and Jack. Oh, and Mudgie. His hands almost healed too, it's just his foot."

Morgan grunted. "Still bothering him? Animal bites are nasty," he said and Dave sighed in agreement.

"Yea. Rat near took his toe off. And the infection was terrible. Kiddo's gonna have a bad scar," said Dave and he shook his head. "We should have left William Reid in Vegas, let the loan sharks have him."

Morgan eased up on the steering wheel. "I would have been more than happy to leave him there."

They spent the rest of the drive in silence, Rossi occasionally mentioning the case when a particular factor came up from his files.

"Reid!"

William looked up from his book. It wasn't particularly thrilling, it was the only reading material available to him and despite not liking autobiographies, William wasn't about to pass it up.

The guard was stood in front of his bunk, sneering down at him. He held up a pair of cuffs.

"You've got a visitor," he said and William dropped the book and sat up.

"Visitor?"

William scowled across at the guard who just shrugged.

"Yea, get up."

William slid himself to the edge of his bottom bunk. "But I haven't got anyone to visit," he said.

"Just get up. Come on, they're waiting," the guard said, his voice snappy.

William turned, putting his hands behind his back and scowling. They? he thought.

He was walked out of his cell and down a flight of stairs before they came to a locked door. The guard waited for the buzzer to sound and the door to open before pulling William into a hallway. They walked to the end of the hall, past the visitors room. William looked back at it before he was yanked on.

"Here." The guard had stopped in front of a door. He pushed the handle and it opened, but before William could get a look inside he was being forced forward.

He was about to complain when he raised his head and his mouth hung open at the sight before him.

"William Reid, I'd say it's a pleasure but we both know that's not true."

William stared at Rossi who had his lips pressed into a straight line. The other agent was there, his dark hands folded and pressing into his thick and threatening biceps.

"Agents," William managed to say on an exhale.

The guard was back in the room and he grabbed William's arm. "Sit," he snarled, pushing William into the chair opposite the agents. His hands were forced onto the table and the cuffs reconnected there.

"Thank you," Rossi said, smiling briefly at the guard who only grunted and stepped out. Rossi turned his head to glare at William. "It seems you weren't so honest with us," he said.

William shifted uncomfortably, swallowing around an intrusive lump in his throat. "W-What?"

"I said, you weren't entirely honest with us, were you, Reid." Rossi lifted his arms and motioned around them. "We gave you the privilege of a transfer and you couldn't tell us the whole story."

"That was the whole story."

"What was?"

William pulled his gum between his teeth, biting hard before answering. "About Spencer... Ashley."

Morgan cocked an eyebrow. "Not them."

William felt cold suddenly, a chill ran down his back.

"I don't know w-what you're talking about," he said, stammering the words through gritted teeth.

Rossi sighed and he took a seat, Morgan followed into the one beside him.

"Alright," said the older agent. He pulled open a file and looked down at it thoughtfully. When he looked up he managed a smile. "Let's start at the beginning. How did your first wife die?"

"Nooo!" Aaron yelled, gazing mournfully at the two fours he had in his hands Spencer was grinning, waiting for the cards to be handed over.

"Any fours dad! Come on!"

"Fine!" Aaron said, dropping his pair of fours on the table. Spencer picked them up quickly, adding them to his fours to make a set.

"That's six sets!" Aaron said, looking down at all the cards Spencer had collected. Jack laughed, pulling his own sets closer.

"We're just way better than you, dad," Jack said.

Aaron folded his arms. "Well I'm out anyway. I'm the loser," he said dismally, looking down at the pitiful cards he'd collected. He had all the queens and all the tens. Jack had five sets and Spencer had six, totally outshining Aaron's wins.

Aaron looked over at Spencer who was squinting at his cards, holding them away from his face to see them better. "It's your go again, pal," he said.

Spencer looked up before smirking at Jack. "Got any sevens?"

Jack stared at Spencer for a long moment before slowly pulling a seven from his hand.

Spencer beamed and took the seven, making another set. His small hands fiddled with his cards for another moment. "Got any eights?"

"Go fish!" Jack said with a triumphant cry, grinning as Spencer picked up a card from the practically empty stack.

Spencer looked down at his cards. He had three eights. He looked back up at Jack, his expression unchanged, though he desperately prayed Jack didn't ask for an eight. Jack was smirking too, arranging his two cards as if he had a grand variety to choose from. Spencer watched as he puckered his lips. "Go any..."

Spencer held his breath. Not eights, not eights, not eights!

"Twos?"

Spencer nearly burst with excitement but he schooled his expression. He looked down at his three cards, making sure his eights hadn't become twos.

Jack looked excited and Spencer felt pretty proud to have fooled the older boy.

Spencer looked up with a sad smile.

"Go fish."

Jack's smirk fell while Aaron's rose.

"Go on, Jacko," Aaron said, grinning across at Spencer. "Grab another card."

"How is he so good!?" Jack said, grumbling slightly as he picked up another card. He craned his neck to try and look over Spencer's skinny little fingers but the boy held his cards close to his chest.

Spencer didn't let Jack have a moment to mourn his loss before asking, "got any eights?"

"How!?" Jack cried, pulling out the most recent card he'd pulled and passing it to Spencer who neatly shuffled them together.

Aaron laughed, shaking his head at his boys. Spencer was smiling sheepishly, his one hand lay proudly over his stacks.

"He's from Vegas, Jack."

Jack shrugged, tossing his twos down onto the table. "So?"

"Vegas is full of people who know their way around a card game," said Aaron, winking at Spencer who was pushing his hair from his face, his cheeks red.

Aaron stood up from the table and pushed his cards into the middle. "Right, bedtime I think."

Jack and Spencer looked up at him, their childish features contorting slighting, Spencer's with worry and Jack's with irritation.

"It's still early!" Jack whined.

"You still have school tomorrow."

Jack groaned, pushing his cards into the middle.

Spencer was still watching Aaron with a frown. "Where's papa?" he whispered. Aaron looked down at the boy, a frown of his own in place while Jack slumped off the chair.

"What was that, buddy?"

Spencer licked his lips. "Is Dave coming back tonight?" he asked, wondering if the slip in Dave's name had been noticed. Aaron smiled and leaned close to Spencer.

"He'll be home soon. He has some work to do. He'll be back before you know it."

Aaron held his hand out to Spencer who looked down at it.

"Come on, we can give him a call in the morning. Does that sound good?"

Spencer stared at Aaron's hand. The fingers were long and thin, calloused along the ridges of his index finger and the side of his thumb. Spencer reached out with his own hand, bandaids still stuck to the broken skin, and placed it into Aaron's much bigger, much warmer hand.

He looked back up into Aaron's kind eyes and he raised his chin up.

"T-That sounds good," Spencer said. Aaron wrapped his hand around Spencer's and stood up, helping the boy off his chair. He caught Jack by his collar and stopped him sneaking off the the front room.

All the while, Aaron couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Spencer had called Dave Papa.

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