The next morning Reid walks out of the bathroom freshly shaved, wearing his newly supplied school uniform. Having stared long and hard at his reflection before presenting himself to the others even he had to admit Garcia had been right. If it wasn't for his height he doubted anyone would believe he was a day over twelve.
"Oh my god you look adorable." Emily coos proudly like a true socialite mom the second she claps eyes on him.
"It's itchy." He throws back, tugging at the skinny tie hanging crookedly from his neck.
Hotch enters their family room with all his usual seriousness on an active case, but catching sight of his trimmed hair, wearing a dark blue blazer which hangs from his skinny frame making him look like a preteen playing dress up in his Dad's clothes, Reid swears he tries to smoother an amused smile.
"Well you certainly look the part."
Opening his mouth to reply Reid finds he's suddenly blinking, the flash of Emily's camera phone leaving bright dots dancing across his retinas.
"Come on, you know Garcia will kill me if I don't get any pictures." She responds to his disbelieving look.
Fingers still linked around his tie Reid forces a thin smile and tries to slide away, face turning red, from embarrassment or suffocation he can't be sure. Hotch stops him by the door taking command of the tie, undoing the material and starting over without hesitation. Reid nervously summits to Hotch invading his personal space and puts all his focus into standing still, doesn't even realise he's holding his breath until the camera flashes again startling him into exhaling.
"You ready for this?"
Their eyes meet. Hotch is only an inch taller, but standing so close that inch gives him all him the advantage needed to make Reid feel like the vulnerable child he's playing. Eventually, despite not receiving an answer, warm hands drop from around his neck where the tie is now resting neatly.
"I'll wait for you both outside." Reid offers a shy smile and avoiding anymore direct eye contact slips out the room.
Managing a controlled escape from Hotch's overt concern and Emily's happy snappy clutches Reid shuts the door swiftly behind him. From his obvious avoidance tactics they'll know not to try and follow, but he moves through the unremarkable motel corridors quickly anyway, his goal to make it out to the SUV unchallenged. He nearly succeeds too, the parking lot exit sign in sight, only to run into Morgan on his final turn.
Reid deflates and instantly slows his pace, trying not to look like he's just run away from Hotch and Emily. Though by the faux casual lounge against the wall, Morgan definitely has the look of someone pre-warned of the situation. Why run after him when a call will ensure his eventual capture without breaking a sweat? Talking of sweat, the jogging bottoms and hoodie certainly allow Morgan to look like himself, which is comforting since Spencer definitely doesn't feel like his self right now.
"Pretty boy, looking young."
Reid huffs coming to a halt, looking everywhere but at the man now walking slowly towards him. "Morgan I'm nearly thirty."
"So are the cast of Glee, your point?" Derek responds with a light chuckle which only enrages Reid because it confirms what he knows they're all thinking, this is one big joke.
"My m-my point is no one will believe I'm seventeen! And what the hell is Glee?"
Morgan ignores the opening and placing both hands on his trembling shoulders forces Reid to face him.
"Calm down," he speaks softly, trying to get him to match his own annoyingly steady breathing, "You can do this. JJ and I will be there with you the entire time, you're not alone."
Reid nods, he's an FBI agent he can do this. Even if the thought of calling Hotch dad, Emily mom and Rossi grandpa sends odd chills down his spine for reason's he doesn't understand right now.
Morgan slings an arm over his shoulder. Reid looks up sharply, studying his friend's intense expression.
"I know this feels weird to you, but trust me... it's a good thing." Morgan holds his gaze for longer than even Reid knows isn't the social norm. "And twenty-six is definitely not nearly thirty," he continues lightly, as if the cryptic pensive moment had never happened. "Don't even think of letting Prentiss hear you say that."
"Why not?" Reid frowns, instantly forgetting why he'd been running away in the first place and letting Morgan guide him back the way he'd came.
"Because kid, that would mean thirty-six is nearly forty."
...
"Where's the kid?"
Rossi looks fresher than he has a right to when the elder profile walks into the bright late February sunshine, greeting them with a soft smile and spring in his step.
"You look like you had a good night." Leaning against the hood, SUV holding her up, Prentiss speaks the words Hotch is thinking.
"I slept well. With a little help from my friends, Jack and Daniel." His smile broadens, verging on a full blown grin.
So not fresh, just a well disguised hangover. That explains the sunglasses. Hotch doesn't comment on the drinking, they're not actively working the case yet and whatever helps his people to prepare is up to them. However, being the astute profile he is Hotch gives Rossi a look that says he knows exactly what's on Rossi's mind and he's fooling no one with the 'nothing bothers me' attitude.
Rossi looks right back, removing the sunglasses to push for an answer to his original question, unintentionally revealing the tiredness in his eyes. Aaron knows from looking in the mirror this morning his look no better.
"Still inside." The stare doesn't drop. "We had a -unsettled night."
The explanation is enough for now it seems. Rossi nods sagely and moves to climb in the car. Leaving Prentiss to fill Rossi in Hotch goes back inside to retrieve Reid.
"Spencer a word," Hotch asks pulling him away from Morgan and JJ who are saying discrete goodbyes before heading for their own vehicles, the plan of course being to arrive at the school separately.
"Are you ready?" He asks once they have privacy.
"Yes, sir," Hotch tips his chin, giving him a steely eyed look, "Yes dad." Reid concedes with an eye roll. It still feels weird, but thankfully rolls off his tongue easily. However, seeing his compliance hasn't improved Hotch's glare any he drops the cocky attitude. "I'm sorry, I really don't mean to be awkward."
"You're fine," Hotch speaks honestly. "I'd be lying if I said this wasn't a little strange for me too."
Reid looks up shyly, matching his small smile grateful for the understanding.
"I just want you to be aware, we didn't discuss it last night but there's a good chance this unsub…"
"I'm bait aren't I?" Reid blurts before he can stop himself.
"You could be a target," Hotch's gaze dips briefly to the floor, "but by no means are we putting you in as bait, if there's any contact with the unsub I expect you to find Morgan or JJ immediately, do not approach by yourself do you understand?" His tone is harsh, much harsher than Reid thinks necessary considering.
"You know I'm not really seventeen right?" He shoots back, again without really thinking.
"Reid," Hotch rolls his eyes this time.
"Spencer," he corrects with bite.
"Spencer." Hotch raises both eyebrows, assuring him he'd let his tone slide, just this once. "Be careful."
The words are the same Hotch said to him over the phone in Chula Vista and the out of the blue reminder of that case knocks the fight right out of him.
Sensing the change Hotch doesn't say anything more, just hands him a cell phone.
Taking the cell in surprisingly steady hands Reid scrolls through the contact names of Mom, Dad, Grandpa and Auntie Penelope.
"Thanks H- Dad."
...
At the school the principle welcomes them in the driveway. "Mr. and Mrs. Hotchner, it's good to finally meet you."
Hotch and Emily shake hands while Rossi climbs out the car, followed reluctantly by Reid.
"And this must be Spencer?"
After being pushed forward by Rossi's firm hand in the middle of his back Reid gives his customary wave, not really noticing until now how childlike it makes him look. No wonder the others haven't a problem believing him to be a teenager.
"Good to finally meet you too," Emily takes on the role of socialite easily, smiling brightly and ending every sentence with a pretentious laugh.
Hotch stands at her side and let's her take the lead on introductions. Playing the strong silent type, isn't that much of a stretch for him.
"This is Miss Abby Henderson." Principle Gables turns, addressing the stranger hanging back, watching the group with barely contained excitement. "She'll be Spencer's homeroom teacher."
She's unaware of their rouse obviously, which explains why the Principle looks so stressed and is doing his best to pretend all is normal.
"Pleased to meet you," a woman about JJ's age, about his own age really steps forward and shakes hands with the adults, Reid once again giving a little wave. Now not being the time to change "Mr Rossi I'm a big fan of your books, very insightful."
"Well I do try."
She giggles and Reid immediately understands why she's so jittery and sporting the stupid grin.
"I would love for you to talk to my theology class, I've used your account of the Portland Ripper as a basis for the doctrine of atonement. It would be wonderful if you could explain some of the questions you raised about the ripper's catholic upbringing."
"Sounds ambitious, but I'm sure something could be arranged, we were planning to stay in town for a few days anyway." Rossi and Hotch exchanged subtle glances.
While Abby gushes her thanks Spencer narrows his eyes, trying to fathom what might be their motivation. Sure having easy access to the school was the goal, but somehow this feels more like a chance to spy on him, not seek out the unsub.
"Spencer, are you ready to see your new bedroom?" She smiles widely at him. Startled out of his thoughts he stares widely back. Unfazed by his silence Abby turns her attention back to his so called parents. "Well not that we want you to leave so soon, but we find it best if you don't stay long on the first day, makes it easier for them to settle in." She says in a mock whisper, tilting her head at Reid.
"I can hear you and they can go I'll be fine." Reid snaps, in role perfectly, distancing himself from the gathered group disgruntledly.
Emily smiles politely at Abby, giving her what Reid would consider a patronising shrug. The kind parents give to strangers when embarrassed by their child's behaviour but unwilling to chastise in public. Hotch and Rossi both manage to give him the evil eye without detracting their main focus from Principle Gables who is insisting they must return to take a proper tour of the school. They really have no room to complain. The file he was ordered to memorise described Spencer Hotchner as an average student with discipline problems. Excluded from two high schools in as many years. For once he has the chance to mouth off and play dumb without consequence. It might actually be fun, if it wasn't for the whole serial killer thing.
Conversation run out Gables looks at Hotch anxiously. "I don't mean to rush you but morning classes will be starting soon."
Back in the briefing room Reid had pictured a younger man in charge of the school, someone with a passion for education who still had the drive to challenge the hierarchy, hence the request for them to investigate. Studying Gables now he can well imagine the events of the past few months, the loss of four of his students and fear there could be more has aged him profoundly. Reid knows how that feels. He may look the same on the outside, but it won't be long before the regret for opportunities missed eating at his insides consumes him entirely, manifesting in the physical symptoms he can see in the sad looking man nervously tapping his watch before them.
"I guess we better get going then." Emily steps forward first, giving Reid a hug, one which he has no problem reciprocating.
Holding on a little too tightly, likely alerting Emily to his nervousness more than he wants her to know, she squeezes back and gives him a kiss on the cheek, making him blush.
Rossi steps forward next. "Don't ruin your grandpa's good name you hear kiddo,"
He winks and also gives a little hug, pressing his lips lightly to Reid's forehead long enough to feel the heat emanating from him. Reid blushes a deeper shade of pink, eyes glued to the floor hating the stupid tears pricking his eyelids. He knows Rossi's only acting, but it gives him a sense of comfort that someone cares about him. Comfort is something he really needs right now. It's been a long time since he's been alone anywhere other than his apartment. On cases a team member is always down the hall. Out here, even with Morgan and JJ being around in the day, he'll be all alone at night and that feels so isolating he can't breathe just thinking about it.
Hotch steps forward next, strong hands pressing into his back drawing him close, removing all distance between them. Reid jumps, having not expected the intimate contact. Like most alpha males Hotch leans more towards handshakes or a shoulder squeeze. A hug fits in this scenario though he surmises as he tries to relax, after all he hugs Jack so of course he'd hug his pseudo son too. Not all fathers hug their sons, not all fathers stick around, but Spencer knows without question Hotch is neither of those.
His hug isn't as tight as Emily's or as natural as Rossi's, but it's lasting longer than either, almost like Hotch is the one afraid to let go. As the youngest, over the years he's adjusted to being coddled, with Garcia he hasn't really had a choice, but when it comes to Hotch he doesn't feel coddled, he feels protected. Returning the hold Spencer hopes that feeling goes both ways, because right now Reid hates the idea he's making Hotch feel afraid.
"Parent's day is this Friday, for the super bowl weekend, hopefully you'll be able to make it?" Abby Henderson jumps in enthusiastically the second they separate.
Spencer glares at her, doing what he feels is a damn good Hotch impression as the others return to the car.
"That sounds lovely." Emily smiles again, cheeks now aching under the constant stain.
No one comments on the super bowl. Reid waves as Hotch, Emily and Rossi drive away, leaving him behind, alone and feeling more than a little vulnerable. Weirdly he feels like he is going to school again, which is terrifying on its own given past experiences.
"Shall we?" the principle asks nervously, eyes shifting between him and the still manically smiling Abby Henderson.
Giving the poor man a cursory nod Spencer silently agrees, and with his gaze remaining glued to the car until it disappears in the distance Reid turns, walking into the school looming like a predator waiting to eat him.
...
Between dropping the kid off and arriving at the Sheriffs station Rossi was in desperate need of a caffeine hit. Walking back to their assigned briefing room with fresh coffees he ponders on the details Prentiss gave him in the car. His night had not been as restful as he'd made out. Having a room to himself being both a blessing and a curse, allowing too much time to think about things he shouldn't be thinking when on an active case. That had been why he'd turned to the JD in his minibar. Wondering if the kid was okay with the sleep arrangements given his obvious issues recently was one thing, how he was dealing with the 'family' situation another. And the golden ticket question, was he dealing any better than him?
In the end though it didn't matter who did what, when or better, all they needed to do was survive the case, catch the killer and return to their normal everyday roles as friends and co-workers.
Stepping through the briefing room doors quietly, not wanting to interrupt his colleagues thinking process, Rossi notices two things. One, Prentiss was gone and two Hotch is finding it just as easy to concentrate on solving these murders as he was sleeping last night apparently.
"Okay out with it," Dave drops the coffees down with a clunk, sloshing steaming liquid through the holes in the tops of the plastic safety lids.
"What?" Hotch visibly jumps.
"Oh wow," Dave perches on the table, picking up one of the paper cups and wiping off the spilt coffee before taking a sip, "it's worse than I thought."
"I'm fine." Hotch snaps, folding his arms across his chest. "Is Prentiss back with the final autopsy reports yet?"
"Not seen her, I assume she's still visiting the coroner then," Rossi mirrors Hotch's arm folding action, "which means you have a few minutes to tell me what's bugging you. And don't you dare tell me its nothing."
Hotch opens and closes his mouth, retracting the disallowed statement of denial completely. He sighs. "I'm not sure."
Since he knows Hotch is rarely this unsure about anything Rossi hands him his coffee and takes an educated guess. "Reid's okay. Even if he does come into contact with the unsub I'm sure he won't be fooled into taking the drugs like the other kids."
"We still don't know how they come into contact with each other or how the drug is administered. Assuming it's self inflicted is dangerous. Besides, it's not the job side of this that has me worried," Hotch's tone calms, falling distant on his last few words.
"Then what?"
"I don't know." One shaking hand runs through his hair and over his face. "Maybe I just need some sleep."
"Maybe." Rossi drawls, mind working overtime to put the pieces together in record time. "Or maybe having the kid out of your sight for so long is affecting you more than you want to admit."
"I wouldn't have sent him if I thought he couldn't do it."
"Of course." Rossi agrees immediately. "Professionally."
Arms still crossed Hotch turns on him.
Now it's Rossi's turn to sigh. "Look I'm not calling Reid's skills into question, but would you be feeling like this if it was Morgan or Prentiss we left out there today?"
Hotch takes a sip of coffee, gaze fixed to the white board before them.
Rossi stands, moving into his eye line so they're face to face. "We all know what the date is. No one here is happy about the timing of this case."
"If I didn't think Reid could do it I wouldn't allow him to," Hotch repeats, sounding like a broken record.
"Can do it and wanting him to do it are completely different and you know it," Rossi challenges. "Personally I'm a nervous wreck right now."
Hotch snorts, a small smile forming, the first real smile since this case started. "You hide it well."
"Thinking of the kid alone out there, knowing how he is sometimes, especially now" Rossi huffs comically, finding a chair and slipping into it. "This is hard anyway, but it's harder because it's the kid and I don't care how that sounds."
"Hankle's just the tip of the iceberg." Hotch copies his action and drops back. "Witnessing that execution in Chula Vista..."
"He spoke a bit about that on the way up to Philadelphia, tried to distract me with his damn tapes, but... its a long trip." Rossi swallows, the prolonged pause adding weight to his next words. "Then Texas happened."
He isn't sure he wants to share the rest, not sure if Hotch wants to hear it. When the kid had walked into the briefing late that night he'd thought nothing of joining Morgan in teasing him about the obvious lie. Unfortunately the thrill of revealing the truth overrode any sensible brain cell he had. If he'd truly thought before he spoke he should have been able to put two and two together much earlier.
"I know he wasn't watching a movie." Hotch breaks the silence, reading his mind. "I should have done something sooner."
"I knew the same as you, I didn't do anything at all."
Hotch nods, looking thoughtful.
"Look we can't change the past," Rossi sits up straighter. "But if three Mrs Rossi's have taught me anything, it's that we have only so many chances to get things right. This time we'll know the signs and we won't fail him."
"I'm not sure we haven't already. You saw him out there, he looked so young. I can't imagine how he dealt with everything the first time. Did you pick up on anything?" Hotch asks, watching him closely for a reaction.
Rossi looks openly back at him, his instinctual answer is yes, yes damn it he did, but the well thought out answer is what he says. "He's handling it. Better than us I think. Looking out for him is one thing, but we can't hold the kid back forever because we want to wrap him in cotton wool. He wouldn't thank us."
"Sure," Hotch nods, understanding completely before staring Rossi dead in the eye. "But what if I'm wrong?"
