You seem to replace your brain with your heart
You take things so hard and then you fall apart
You try to explain, but before you can start
Those cry baby tears come out of the dark
Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes
They're pouring out where everyone can see
Your heart's too big for your body, it's why you won't fit inside
They're pouring out where everyone can see
They call you cry baby, cry baby
But you don't fucking care
Cry baby, cry baby
So you laugh through your tears
Cry baby, cry baby
'Cause you don't fucking care
Tears fall to the ground
You just let them drop
-"Crybaby" by Melanie Martinez
tuesday
Alex sighed as she untied her pointe shoes. She had always wanted to learn Giselle's variation from act one, ever since she saw the ballet when she was eight, but god, she was tired. At least her teacher didn't mind letting her go a little early if she was doing well and wanted to open the library a little early.
Today, though, she wasn't going to the library quite yet. She changed out of her leotard and tights back into her school uniform, leaving her hair pinned up in a neat bun, and swapped her dance bag for her school bag in her studio locket. The hallways were quiet, and she leaned against the wall outside the ninth grade English composition classroom, listening to the teacher's voice through the closed door. She played idly on her phone as she stretched out her aching calves. Usually JJ or Penelope would walk him to the library, but JJ had soccer practice and Penelope had ukulele club, and Alex wasn't willing to let Spencer walk the hallways alone, not when everyone was talking about all of the suspensions and the expulsion. He already wasn't recovering well, no need to make it worse.
The bell rang and she dropped her phone in her blazer pocket as the door opened. Spencer tripped into the hallway, his half-zipped backpack dangling on one shoulder. "Alex!" he said.
"Slow down, darling, slow down," she laughed. She shifted his backpack to sit properly and zipped it shut the rest of the way. "You ready to go?"
He nodded and grabbed her hand. The hall was beginning to flood with other students spilling out of their classrooms, and in the sudden rush of movement and sound Spencer pressed himself tightly against her hip, making himself as small as possible.
"Alex, you have him?" JJ called over the chatter. Penelope waved anxiously at them, already separated in the crowd.
"I have him," she called back. "You two have fun, we'll see you at dinner." She looked down at Spencer and squeezed his hand. "You're okay, sweetheart. Let's go."
At first she'd been pleased to see that he'd made it through classes, but now she wasn't sure if that was a sign of progress or just sheer stubbornness. Yesterday it had been terrifying to get the text from James that Spencer was having a panic attack. She'd unlocked the library early, hoping that some peace and quiet would help him. It seemed to help, but by the time class was over and the rest of the kids came to join them he'd cried himself to sleep in her arms.
She unlocked the library doors and ushered him inside as she turned on the lights. "Go get a snack before everyone else gets here," she said. "Do you have any homework?"
He shrugged his backpack off and set it down at their usual table. "Just some math problems," he said. "I don't think I want a snack, though, thanks."
Alex frowned. He'd barely eaten breakfast and even less at lunch. "Well, we'll go to dinner as soon as we can," she said.
She put her things away at her desk and took off her blazer, rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. It didn't take long before students began to file into the library; James and Dave walked in with cup trays from the Honeybean in their hands. "Coffee two days in a row?" Alex said. "What's the occasion?"
"Dave wanted coffee, and I gave in to peer pressure, and then I figured it wouldn't be fair if we didn't bring drinks back for everyone else," James grinned. He set his carrier down on the table and placed a cup in front of Spencer, then handed her an iced chai latte.
"Did you get him decaf?" Alex asked. "Please tell me you got him decaf."
"It's a hot chocolate," James reassured her as he pulled out a cold brew cup and set it down at Hotch's usual seat.
Dave placed a little paper bag in front of Spencer. "Please eat that, passerotto," he said. "You barely ate anything at lunch."
Spencer made a face, but peeked inside and brightened. "Thank you!" he said, plucking gingerly at the cupcake wrapper.
James ruffled his hair lightly. "The haircut looks good on you, kiddo," he said.
"It's a lot easier to maintain than long hair, I have to admit," Spencer said. He tore off a bit of the pink-frosted cupcake and popped it in his mouth. "It's a lot less tangled."
His sunburn was faded now too; spots of white peeling skin and a brand new crop of freckles scattered over his nose and cheeks were the last reminders on his face. But she'd seen him wince on more than a few occasions, so the burns probably still lingered on his shoulders and back.
Hotch walked in and threw his backpack down on the floor. "Guess who has detention?" he said.
"You?" Dave asked as he set up his macbook.
"No, Prentiss," Hotch said. "Turns out she hasn't done any of her trig homework since the semester started."
"Oh, yikes," James said. "That's not good."
"She's been in a bad mood for a couple of days now," Dave said. "Hayden invited me to a bonfire on Thursday night, maybe I'll take Emily along with me. That might cheer her up."
"That seems like the opposite of a good idea to me. She needs to stay and get her homework done." Hotch paused and looked down at the cold brew on the table. "Is this for me?" he asked, surprised.
"No one else drinks that stuff, so yeah, I guess it's yours," Dave said.
Hotch picked it up and surveyed it warily. "There's nothing in it, right?" he said. "No sugar, no milk?"
"Nope, just cold bean water," James said. "How can you drink it like that?" Hotch just shrugged and downed a quarter of it in one gulp.
Alex got up from the table. "I'm going to go shelve for a little bit," she said. "Call me if you need me."
Spencer tilted his head back. "Do you need help? I can come with you," he said.
She bent over him and kissed the tip of his nose. "No, stay here and do your homework, and eat your cupcake," she said. "I'm sure Bubba and Jamie can help you if you get stuck on proofs."
"Why can't I help?" Dave protested. "And why don't I have a cute nickname?"
"Because you can't do math without a calculator, and you don't strike me as the cute nickname type," Alex said. "I'll be back."
She grabbed the cart and dragged it along with her up and down the aisles. It was easy, repetitive work, and she never minded it. Shelving was almost meditative after a long day of classes, a steady rhythm and a comforting sense of order as she put each book back where it belonged. The pins in her bun were jabbing into her scalp; she idly picked them out one by one in between books.
She placed a book on a bottom shelf and straightened up, and found herself staring directly at a person who wasn't there a second ago. "Oh my god!" she shrieked.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," John said hastily, his blue eyes wide. "I'm so sorry."
Alex leaned back against the shelves, her hand against her wildly thumping heart. "Jesus, John, you scared me," she gasped.
"I'm so sorry, Alex, I honestly didn't mean to, I just saw you over here, and- really, I'm so embarrassed," he stammered. "I finished Human Croquet and was wondering if you had any other recommendations."
She pulled the elastic out of her hair and shook it loose. "Oh," she sighed. "Yeah, sure...let me think." She tied her hair into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck. "Um...The Night Strangers by Chris Bohjalian is a pretty good read. Not quite as in depth as Human Croquet, but it's got a really good twist."
Suddenly a small blur darted down the aisle and flung himself against her. "Alex, are you okay?" Spencer demanded. "What happened?"
"Nothing, nothing, I'm fine," she said. Spencer wrapped his arms tight around her waist and buried his face in her stomach. "Sweetheart, what's wrong? Are you crying?" She looked up at John. "Sorry, he's...he's upset."
"Aw, it's all right, I was a crybaby at that age too," John said, clearly attempting to be helpful.
Alex pressed her hand to the back of Spencer's head. "He's not a crybaby," she said. "Do you still need my help?"
"No, don't worry about it," John said. "I can find the book on my own. Bohjalian, right?" She nodded. "Thanks. I'll see you around."
As soon as he walked away Alex knelt down, pulling Spencer away just enough so that she could see his face. "I'm fine," she said softly. "John just startled me, that's all."
Another student walked by and Spencer jumped, grabbing onto her shoulders and pulling her hair in the process. She glanced back at the student frowning at the shelves, and then turned back to Spencer, switching to Russian. "Did it scare you?" she asked. He nodded. "Did you think somebody hurt me?" He nodded again, his chin trembling. Alex pulled him into a tight hug. "I'm okay, I promise. Nobody's going to hurt me. And nobody's going to hurt you, okay? We won't let anybody hurt you again, ever."
She caught Hotch's eye as he walked into the row. "I thought that was you," he said. "You sound like a bird chattering like that." He knelt down beside them and rested his hand against Spencer's back. "You okay, kid?"
Spencer nodded, his breath catching in sharp quick sobs. She slid to sit crosslegged on the floor and tugged him down to sit on her lap, his cheek pressed against her chest. "Can you hear my heartbeat?" she asked. He nodded. "Then just do that for right now. Listen to my heartbeat."
It took longer than she liked, but slowly he began to quiet, his breathing lengthening and relaxing. Hotch sat beside them, silent and still. After a while Spencer inhaled deeply and shifted his weight. "I'm not a crybaby," he said.
"No, you're not," Hotch said firmly. "You ready to go back?" He smiled at him. "You've still got half a cupcake to finish, you know."
Spencer sort of smiled at that, and Hotch picked him up to set him on his feet, then held out his hand to Alex. "Come on, Birdy," he said.
Alex frowned. "What?"
"I told you I'd have to come up with a nickname for you," Hotch said, grinning. "Come on, Birdy." She grinned back and grabbed his hand.
wednesday
Derek jogged down the stairs to the ninth grade hallways. He'd been tasked with taking Spencer from his fourth period math class to his new tenth grade history class- the same class he was in. Alex had spelled everything out for him exactly- what classroom he would be in, which textbook he needed to turn in and which one he needed to pick up, which students to avoid. That, at least, Derek knew already.
He'd gone back to football practice to find his teammates in an uproar over all of the changes. It really was a lot to process- Maclain's demotion from quarterback, the teammates who were suspended, losing Thornton entirely. He still heard whispers here and there about Spencer, but no one dared to say it to his face, not now that he'd been moved front and center at football practice. The coaches liked him. Everyone knew it. And no one could deny that he was a good player. One of the best, maybe.
"Hey, pretty boy!" Derek called. "C'mere." Spencer caught up to him, his small hands holding tight to the straps of his backpack. "You ready for your new history class?"
"Uh-huh," Spencer said. "Hopefully it'll be a little more challenging than the class I've been in."
"Well, I think this class is pretty tough, but for you it'll probably be a walk in the park," Derek laughed. "How many history books have you read?"
Spencer scrunched his nose. "That's too broad a question," he said. "I've read a lot of books that could be considered history. You'll need to narrow it down."
"I'll just take your word for it," Derek said.
Spencer bit his lip as they approached the classroom. "You've got my new textbook?" he said.
"Yep, it's in my backpack," Derek said. "And there's an empty seat next to me, so don't worry about finding a desk." He squeezed Spencer's shoulder lightly, but the younger boy didn't seem assured. "You'll like it, it's a good class. You'll be fine."
He walked into the classroom and nudged Spencer forward. "You're sure you have my book?" Spencer asked.
"Positive, Alex put it in my bag herself," Derek promised. "She even got you a new folder so you don't have to look at the old one." He dropped his backpack in his usual desk. "Put your stuff on the one next to mine, and then go talk to the teacher."
Spencer obeyed, and Derek unpacked the new book as Haley Brooks sat down in the desk at his other side. "Hey, Derek," she said as she unpacked her Vera Bradley backpack. "I forgot to tell you yesterday, you did great at the game on Friday."
He flashed a smile at her. "Thanks," he said. "It was, uh...kind of a crazy night."
Haley set her monogrammed pencil case on her desk, then paused. "Oh, is that Aaron's little brother?" she asked.
Derek frowned and looked around in confusion. "Who?" he said. "You mean Spencer?"
"Yeah, somebody said that's his brother," Haley said as she set two pencils on her desk. "And his sister's a senior."
"His sister?" Derek echoed.
"The redheaded librarian girl," Haley explained. "Somebody said they're twins, she just skipped a grade."
"Yeah, no, they're-" Derek started to say.
"All right, everybody, take your seats," the teacher called. Spencer slipped into the desk beside Derek. His feet dangled a good couple of inches off the floor. "We're going to start on chapter three. I hope everybody remembered their books. Tobias, honey, where's your book?"
"I forgot it, ma'am."
The teacher sighed. "See if someone will share with you," she said. "All right, everybody else ready?"
Derek caught Spencer's eye and flashed him a smile and a thumb's up. Spencer tentatively smiled back.
thursday
Emily dropped her phone on her lap and leaned her cheek on her hand, staring out the window at the sea of trees rolling past. They were in the middle of the dead zone on the way into town, no use wasting her battery.
Dave glanced at her as he drove. "You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said.
He took a sip of his energy drink and dropped the can back into the pristine cupholder. "You wanna talk about what's bothering you?" he asked.
"Nothing's bothering me, Grandpa," she shot back.
There wasn't any point in talking about what was bothering her. Mostly because she wasn't sure what was bothering her. Maybe it was family weekend coming up. Maybe it was detention (again). Maybe it was the stack of missing math homework that she had to get done by Friday (or else).
Dave frowned. "Grandpa?" he said. "Not even Dad, you went right to Grandpa?"
She grinned. "It seems to suit you better," she said. Dave grumbled something under his breath. "So how's it going with Hayden?"
"Fine, I guess," he said. "Why? You hear otherwise?"
"James just said that he's never seen you stick with one girl for this long before," she said. "Other than...what was her name? Caroline?"
"It was Carolyn, and don't listen to James, he's been waiting for the right time to ask out Alex for three years, he has no idea what he's talking about," Dave scoffed. He glanced over at her. "What about you? Seems like that one guy last time was paying a lot of attention to you."
Emily shrugged and examined her hands, picking at the fresh black polish she'd hastily slapped on her nails on the way out the door. It didn't look great, but that was fine. She felt more like herself with sloppy black polish and her piercings back in place.
"So what happens at a bonfire, anyway?" she asked, changing the subject.
"It's a bonfire."
She frowned. "That's...that's it?" she said. "Just a fire?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Dave said. "It's a big fire, everybody hangs out, there's drinks...sometimes people bring stuff for hot dogs and s'mores."
"Hold on, those are real things?" she said, sitting up as the seatbelt pulled at her shoulder. "I thought they just got made up for movies."
"What, s'mores? Yeah, they're real," Dave said. He turned his car down a bumpy dirt road. "Too much sugar for my taste, though."
"I don't care, I'm trying them," Emily said.
Dave pulled over into a stream of crookedly-parked cars in a field full of mashed grass. The sun was just barely beginning to set, turning the edges of the sky pink and purple, and she could see groups of people in twos or threes hanging out just past a fence marking off a pasture.
"Remember, we need to leave by nine-fifteen if I'm going to get you back to campus by room checks," Dave warned as he got out of the driver's seat and closed the door. "Alex is still on thin ice with Strauss, I'm not going to put her in more trouble by making her cover for you if you're missing."
"All right, Grandpa, I won't forget," Emily said.
"Stop calling me that," Dave grumbled.
She smirked behind his back as he stomped away, but she didn't follow him. The old feelings crept in, that unsettling sense of loneliness, everything so clear and so sharp that it had to have been written all over her face. It didn't matter where she was with or who she was with- she never found a place to fit in. She shouldn't have come here in the first place.
"Hey, Emily!" a voice called.
She glanced up to see Ian striding over towards her. "Hey," she said, tucking her hair behind her ears and crossing her arms over her stomach. "I didn't know you were coming to this."
"I didn't know you were coming either," he said. He smiled at her. "You haven't been answering my texts."
"School's been kicking my ass," she said.
He laughed. "Is American school that much harder than school in Europe?" he teased. "I figured a smart girl like you could sweep in and outdo everybody."
"Yeah, you'd think that, but my roommate has read every book ever written and hasn't gotten a grade lower than an A- in her life," Emily said dryly.
"Well, I can guarantee you're smarter than everybody here," Ian said. "Come on, I'll prove it to you. Come meet my friends."
She hesitated. "You're sure about that?" she said.
"Positive," he said, and when he held out her hand she took it, his fingers lacing through hers.
He held her hand for most of the night, gripping hers in an almost reassuring possessiveness. She met his friends, and he laughed at everything she said, and when she told stories about Rome and the Ukraine she was peppered with questions, as if she was the most fascinating person they'd ever met.
She sat with them around the bonfire as the sky faded to dark velvet, scattered with stars that she never saw in the cities she'd lived in across the ocean, hip to hip with Ian with a bottle of something cold and somehow sour in her hands. The night's humidity faded to something softer, and the heat of the fire was alluring rather than oppressive. Ian taught her how to roast marshmallows, helping her untwist the coathanger and covering his hands with hers as she held it tentatively towards the flames, and she shrieked with laughter as her first attempts dripped and oozed into the fire. The scent of woodsmoke soaked into her hair and her thoughts went fuzzy as the alcohol buzzed in her veins, and when Ian leaned in to kiss her she kissed him back, his lips sugar sweet and sticky with chocolate against hers.
friday
Hotch jerked awake as his phone buzzed inches away from his head. His heart raced for a split second, but as he blinked rapidly the darkness settled into the familiar shadows of his own dorm room. He sank back against his pillows and rubbed his eyes as he squinted at his phone screen.
Derek Morgan
1:48am
SOS kids in trouble
"What the fuck does that mean?" he mumbled as he forced himself to get out of bed.
It had to be Spencer. But he wasn't sure what kind of trouble he meant. A nightmare, probably. Maybe he threw up again. He really hoped he hadn't thrown up again.
He walked down the silent barely-lit hallways and made his way over to Derek and Spencer's room. Carefully he opened the door, trying not to make too much noise.
He wasn't sure what he expected to see, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he was surprised to see Spencer out of bed, pulling at the covers. Derek seemed to be asleep, his back turned towards them.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Hotch whispered. "Are you okay?" Spencer jumped back, stumbling away from him. "Hey, hey, it's just me. What's wrong? Did something happen?"
Spencer shook his head vehemently. Hotch frowned. "Get back into bed then, get some sleep," he said. "Why are you taking the covers off? Did you get sick?"
Spencer shook his head again, turning away from him and yanking viciously at the blankets. Hotch knelt down beside him. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" he asked. "I don't care what it is, I'll help you."
In the dim light he could see the bright tear tracks on Spencer's cheeks as he went completely still. Hotch looked over at the bed and the rumpled sheets, and his heart sank. "Oh," he said. "Did...did you have an accident?"
Spencer's face crumpled and he hid behind his hands, his shoulders shaking. Hotch leaned against him gently until Spencer dropped his head to his shoulder. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's okay, kiddo."
He pressed his hand to his back, letting him sob silently into the crook of his neck as he wracked his brain about what the hell he was supposed to do. This was too far out of his league.
"You want me to call Alex?" he asked. "I know she'll come over if-"
Spencer shook his head, a sob catching in his throat, and Hotch squeezed him gently. "Okay," he said. "Okay, I won't call her."
He needed to figure out something to help the kid. He just wasn't sure what. "Let's do this," he said, leaning back and tugging Spencer just far enough away so he could see his face. "Go grab some clothes, and you can get cleaned up in my bathroom. I'll take care of this. Can you do that?"
Spencer nodded and scrubbed at his tearstained cheeks before pulling away from him. Hotch tilted his phone screen so he could see enough to dig through his dresser and pick out clean clothes, then sent him out into the hallway.
As soon as he was out of the room, Derek sat up and turned on his bedside lamp. "God, I'm glad you got here," he said.
"What happened?" Hotch asked, squinting the sudden surge of light.
Derek rested his arms on his knees. "Not totally sure," he said. "I woke up because the kid was talking in his sleep. I was just about to go over there and wake him up when he jumped up and started crying."
Hotch started stripping the sheets off the bed. "I'm glad you texted me," he said. "Jesus. This is gonna set him back even farther, won't it?"
"He was doing so well," Derek said. "He's doing great in his new history class with me."
"Yeah, well, they won't take him out of gym or move him to a different English class," Hotch said.
Derek was quiet for a moment. "Is this...is this because he's still upset?" he ventured.
"It's not an upset thing," Hotch said. "It's trauma. It's a trauma thing. He's a little kid trying to process that a bad thing happened to him." He tossed Spencer's favorite blanket over his shoulder and gathered up the wet sheets. "And let's be honest, if he's not talking about what happened to him before he got here, it might not be the only thing he's trying to process." He wadded the sheets up under his arm. "It goes without saying that we're not talking about this to anybody else. Nobody needs to know. Maybe Alex, but only if he chooses to tell her."
"Yeah, yeah, for sure," Derek said.
"I'll be back," Hotch said. "Get some sleep."
He went out into the hallway and closed the door behind him, then headed back to his room. The bathroom door was closed but he could hear the shower running. Spencer had left his clothes in the smallest pile possible on the floor.
The laundry room was empty but the white fluorescent lights were too bright for it to possibly seem creepy. He threw everything into the nearest washer, poured in the detergent, and turned it on.
When he got back to his room, Spencer had just stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in clean pajamas and his short hair damp. He shrank back at the sight of him, and Hotch pretended not to notice. "Hey, kiddo," he said. He sat down on his bed and patted the space beside him. "C'mere."
Spencer sidled closer to him, but didn't sit down. "Do you feel better?" Hotch asked. A slight nod. "And nothing else is bothering you- no headaches, stomachaches, anything like that?" He shook his head. Hotch touched the back of his hand lightly to his forehead. "You don't feel warm. That's good."
Spencer still hadn't spoken. Hotch pulled the blanket off his shoulders and draped it around him. "Come here," he said, and he picked Spencer up and set him beside him on the bed. "You know you're not in trouble, right? I'm not going to yell at you. I'm not mad."
He dropped his gaze, knotting his small hands together on his lap. "I promise," Hotch said. "These things happen, okay? It's a trauma response."
Spencer's eyes welled up. "I'm not traumatized," he said, bitter and raspy. "I just got bullied."
"Hey," Hotch said, a little too sharply. "Hey, don't talk like that. You-" He broke off midsentence. He wasn't qualified for this. Especially as his mind helpfully supplied him with reminders of his own memories he'd never properly dealt with.
Now was not the time for his own issues.
"Listen. It's two in the morning. All I need you to know right now is that you're okay, and I'm not mad at you, and nobody's going to know about this except you and me."
He didn't need to know about Derek.
"You can tell Alex if you want to, but you don't have to," he continued. "We can deal with the rest of this stuff later, but right now you just need to get some sleep. Do you want to stay with me, or do you want to go back to your own room?"
Spencer rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. "With you," he said in a small voice.
Hotch sighed. "Move over, then."
He turned off the lights and laid down. Spencer curled up beside him, holding tight to his blanket, and for a brief moment he was reminded of Sean crawling into his bed to sleep with him after a bad dream.
"Goodnight, kid," he said aloud, and Spencer mumbled a goodnight back, pressed close to his side.
saturday
"I call shotgun!"
"No! I have shotgun! I always call shotgun!"
Spencer hung back as the bigger kids bickered, leaning against Alex. "Children, children, why are we fighting?" Penelope asked, sliding her pink heart-shaped sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose.
"Hotch always gets shotgun!" JJ complained. "It's my turn."
"I have to get shotgun," Hotch said. "It's a permanent claim."
"Why? Why do you have a permanent claim on shotgun? That's not fair!"
Hotch shifted his weight. "You know, it's...I mean, I'm the oldest-"
"No, you're not, you're a middle child at best!"
Derek slipped past them to climb into the backseat of Dave's car. "He has to call shotgun because he's the most carsick motherfucker you'll ever meet," he called before slamming the door.
Emily turned on her heel, smirking at Hotch. "Are you serious?" she said.
The back of Hotch's neck turned bright red. "No!" he said. "I mean...no, well, I-"
"Okay, okay, stop picking on him," Dave interrupted. "JJ, you can ride in the front seat with me. Hotch, go ride shotgun with Blake. His car is already a disaster."
The red had traveled all the way up to Hotch's ears. "I do not get carsick," he protested.
"My car's not that much of a disaster," James said. He glanced over at his Nissan Versa. "Well...it's kind of a disaster."
"Okay, now that we have this settled, can we go?" Emily said. "I'm starving."
"Yeah, yeah, let's go," Dave said, herding Penelope and JJ towards his car.
Spencer climbed into his booster seat in the back of James's car and clicked the belt into place. "Dude, do you really get carsick?" James asked as he dropped into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition.
"Shut up," Hotch grumbled. "Is the air on?"
"Oh, hang on," James said. He smacked the radio a few times and the air rattled on. "There we go."
Alex buckled her seatbelt in the seat next to Spencer as James backed the car out of its space. "Are you doing okay, darling?" she asked softly. "You've been really quiet lately."
Spencer nodded, and when she held out her hand he took it. She was right, he hadn't said much over the past day or two. He also hadn't told her what had happened, or that the next night he'd woken up gasping for breath, feeling the summer heat burning his skin and the ropes cutting into him, and had had to run down the hall to Hotch's room to feel safe again. Maybe he'd tell her at some point. Or maybe he could just forget about it for now.
James and Hotch chatted in the front seat, their voices blurring with the indie playlist on the stereo. The AC blew ice cold and soothing, and Alex rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand as she read her book. A shuddering sigh broke from him, and he leaned his head against the window.
The exhaustion pulled him under so fast it was like drowning, and he didn't realize he'd fallen asleep until he felt someone lift him out of the car. "Did he fall asleep?" he heard James ask.
"Yeah, poor baby," Alex said, and he realized she was the one holding him, setting him on her hip and leaning his head on her shoulder. "He fell asleep about five minutes into the drive and he's still out like a light."
"He hasn't been sleeping well," Hotch said quietly.
"That doesn't surprise me. He's gone through a lot. And it's only been a little over a week sinceā¦" James's voice trailed off. "He just needs some more time."
Alex adjusted Spencer on her hip. "He's so much heavier when he's sleeping," she said. "Jesus. It's like he turns into a lead weight."
"I can carry him," Hotch offered.
"No, no, I've got him."
Spencer kept feigning sleep as they left the parking lot and joined up with the rest of the group. He really was tired. And it was safer to sleep in the middle of the day, nestled in the safety of Alex's arms, than it was to try to fall asleep in his own bed in the dark.
"So where are we going first?" Emily asked. "When you said we were going into town, I thought it was going to be another Target trip. This...is not Target. This is not what I was promised."
"No, this is historic downtown Auden's Ridge," James said, a smile in his voice. "It's cute, right?"
"Yeah, sure," Emily said. "Super cute."
Spencer cracked one eye open to take a peek while the rest of the kids argued about where to go. Downtown Auden's Ridge looked like it was straight out of a Normal Rockwell painting, all small quaint shops and old oak trees and red brick sidewalks. He raised his head to get a better look.
"Good morning, sunshine," Alex said. "Did you have a good nap? You slept the whole drive."
"Uh-huh," he said, still faintly sleepy.
"Really, Birdy, I can carry him," Hotch said.
"I can walk on my own, I'm awake," he said, and Alex let him slide to the ground. "Where are we going?"
"Not sure," JJ said, kicking at a rock. "Penelope won't shut up about going to the bubble tea place, though."
"I love bubble tea!" Penelope exclaimed, clapping her hands for emphasis. "We need to go."
"I don't want to chew my tea," JJ countered.
"I want to go over there," Derek said, pointing to a bakery across the street. "Everybody says that place has the best pies."
Dave laughed. "James, you want to take this one?" he said.
"No, I think we should just go over there," James said. "But yeah, I agree. Definitely the best pies."
Spencer trailed behind the other kids as they crossed the street, still a little drowsy. It was a pretty day, with a gentle breeze that ruffled his short hair, and the leaves on the trees were beginning to spike into gold and orange at the edges. Alex took his hand as they walked into the bakery, the brass bell jingling overhead.
The bakery was small, but the air smelled like freshly baked bread and cinnamon sugar. "I'll be there in a second!" a man called from the back.
"Oh my god, this place is so cute," Penelope said. "I'm in love."
"I just want to eat everything," JJ said as she peered into the glass case full of cakes and pies and cookies.
Derek leaned in next to her, their shoulders touching. "Yeah, those peanut butter cookies are great, that's what I usually get," he said.
"You're still not going to tell them, James?" Alex said.
"No, no, I'm waiting," James said. He went over to the counter and slapped the hotel bell repeatedly. "This is fun for me. I'm usually terrible at surprises."
A tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy brown hair walked out of the back in a black tee shirt smeared with flour, wiping his hands on a towel. "Hi, sorry, I had brioche I had to get out of the oven, and they know what they say about brioche," he said.
Emily made a face. "Do they say things about brioche?" she said.
"Not sure, actually. How can I help you?" the man said. He stopped when he saw James. "Oh! It's just you."
"Really, Dad, that's all you have to say?" James laughed. "You're not excited to see your favorite child?"
"You're my only child, unless there's something your mother hasn't told me in the last twenty years," the man said.
"Wait, wait, wait," Penelope said. "Your dad? This is your dad?"
"Don't you see the resemblance?" James said, leaning his elbows back against the counter. "Everybody, this is my dad, Ned. Ned, this is everybody."
"Please don't call me Ned, it's very weird hearing you call me by my first name," Ned said. He surveyed the gaggle of kids in the shop. "I know a couple of you. David, Alexandra, nice to see you again." He squinted as he looked at everybody else, an expression that Spencer had seen James make dozens of times. "I'm not sure about the rest of you."
James ran through roll call, pointing them each out in turn. Ned peered around the counter. "Which one is Spencer?" he said.
Spencer raised his hand and stood on tiptoes so he could be seen. "Marie Antoinette probably didn't say 'let them eat cake,' she probably said 'let them eat brioche' instead," he said. "Actually, it's more likely that she didn't say it at all."
Ned grinned. "Ah, so you're Spencer," he said.
"Where's Mom?" James asked.
"She's in the back, sorting googly eyes by size," Ned said.
"Your mother is what, now?" Penelope said.
"She's a kindergarten teacher," James explained. "This is pretty par for the course for her."
Ned folded the dishtowel in his hands. "You guys want some cookies?" he asked. "I've made too many gingercakes."
JJ brightened. "Yes, please!" she said. "Thanks, Mr. Blake."
Emily froze and grabbed James's arm. "Oh my god," she said.
"Ow?" he said.
"Your parents have a bakery," she said. "You. The Blakes. Have a bakery."
"Yeah, they opened it before I was born, I didn't have much of a say," James said. "Can you please stop squishing my arm?"
"James," Emily said solemnly. "It's a Blakery."
Alex burst out laughing. "Oh my god, how did we not think about that before?" she said.
A slim woman with dark hair tied into a ponytail leaned out of the door to the back. "Oh, no, I thought of that, and Ned said no," she said.
"I thought of a different pun," Ned objected.
"Yes, well, the Blakery is still a better pun," the woman said.
"How are the googly eyes going, Mom?" James asked.
"Oh, it could be worse," she said, leaning her arms on the counter. She was a good foot shorter than her broad-shouldered husband, and she wore a yellow apron over her clothes. "Hi, everybody. I'm Jamie's mom, I'm Charlotte. Well, Charlie, actually, nobody calls me Charlotte. Who wants pie?"
"Me!" Derek said. "I'm starving."
"You're always starving."
"It's because-"
"Football, yes, we know you play football."
Spencer tried to step around the bigger kids, but they crowded around the glass case and he couldn't see. "Hotch, do you want something?" James asked.
Hotch took a step back. "No, no, I'm okay, thanks," he said.
"Oh, come on, you don't want anything?" Dave said.
Spencer grabbed onto Hotch's arm to pull himself up and see better. "I can't see, can you pick me up, please?" he asked.
"Just a second, kiddo," Hotch said. "Yeah, Dave, I'm sure. I don't really like sweets."
"Oh, we have lots of not-sweet stuff," Charlie said, leaning her elbows on the countertop as Ned started pulling things out of the case. "What kind of stuff do you like? I hope you like bread, we have a lot of bread."
"Hotch, I can't see, they're in the way," Spencer said. Frustration bubbled in his chest. "Please?"
"Spencer, you're fine, stop pulling on him like that, just give him a second," Alex said.
"I'm okay, Mrs. Blake, really," Hotch said, taking a step back from the counter. "Thanks, though."
They weren't listening to him, and he didn't know why they weren't listening to him. "Hotch," he whined, pulling on his sleeve again.
"Oh, come on, passerotto, stop fussing," Dave teased as he ruffled his hair. "Don't be such a crybaby about it. What do you want, I'll get it for you."
He jerked back as if he'd been slapped. "I'm not a crybaby," he said, his lower lip trembling. "I'm not. I'm not a crybaby."
"I'm just teasing," Dave said. "C'mere. Which one do you want?"
"I'm not a crybaby!" he insisted, but it was too late, and the first tear rolled down his cheek. He hid his face in his hands.
"Spencer, what's wrong?" Alex asked, shocked, and he fumbled for her blindly, gripping tight to her arm. "Why are you crying? Dave was just teasing."
He didn't know why he was crying. But he also couldn't stop. He was so tired. He was so tired of being upset all the time, and being scared, and he was so tired of crying.
Alex picked him up and he didn't fight her. "Charlie, can I take him in the back office?" she asked. "Just until he calms down?"
"Absolutely, sweetheart, take all the time you need."
He held onto her tightly as she carried him behind the counter and into a cozily cluttered back office. She sat down in a comfortably worn-out armchair and settled him on her lap, leaning his head on her shoulder.
He tried to stop crying. He really did. But he bawled into her shoulder instead, gripping the shoulders of her dress, sobbing until he didn't have any energy left in his body. Alex rocked him slowly.
The door creaked open and he heard gentle footsteps. "Everything okay?" he heard Charlie ask.
"Uh-huh," Alex whispered. "I think he's asleep."
He wasn't, but he was right on the verge, and he kept his eyes closed. He heard the faint clink of a plate and cup placed on the desk and the squeak of Charlie sitting down at the desk chair. "I figured he could use a snack once he wakes up," she said. "I see this with my kindergartners all the time. A nap and a snack works wonders after a bad cry."
"He's not in kindergarten, though," Alex said. "Is this...is this normal?"
Charlie laughed softly. "Kids cry," she said. "How old is he?"
"He'll be ten at the end of the month."
"That's at a hard age," Charlie said.
"But it's so strange," Alex countered. "One minute he's able to talk like an adult and he's doing trigonometry, and the next he's melting down."
"That would be the trauma," Charlie said. "James told me what's been happening to him. It's absolutely horrific. What did his mother say?"
Alex was quiet for a moment. "I don't think he has a mother," she said. "He...he doesn't talk about his parents. He's never once cried for her, not even at his worst. He cries for me or for Hotch."
"Oh, that worries me," Charlie said. "A baby that little usually would want his mom."
Spencer kept his eyes closed and said nothing. Alex hugged him a little closer. "He's been crying so much," she said. "He panics a lot, and I can't...I don't know what I can do to help him."
She cleared her throat, the sound thick and wet, and Charlie leaned across the desk. "Honey, don't beat yourself up," she said. "You're seventeen years old. You're still a baby yourself. You're doing your best, and that little boy clearly trusts you."
"I'm trying," Alex sighed. "What can I do? What can help him?"
"Well, time, most importantly," Charlie said. "Time helps. He'll bounce back eventually, especially if he knows he has you and the other kids to rely on. He needs boundaries, things that make him feel secure." She paused. "Lord, can you imagine if he didn't have any of you kids to look out for him?"
The thought passed through his mind and involuntarily he curled towards Alex, his nose pressed into her collarbone. She kissed the top of his head lightly. "Is there anything else we can do other than time and boundaries?" she asked.
"Give him time to calm down, just like you're doing now," Charlie said. "He needs breaks. James says he's in ninth grade- what does he do when he's not in class or does homework?"
"He reads, mostly," Alex said. "We got him some Legos too, he'll play with those sometimes."
"Oh, he needs more than that," Charlie said. "He's a little kid! He needs to run around and play with other kids his age."
"Spencer isn't exactly the run around and play type," Alex said.
"You'd be surprised," Charlie said. The office chair squeaked in protest as she got up. "Time, attention, rest, socialization. He'll be okay eventually, I promise. Even if it doesn't seem like it now." Charlie stepped closer to Alex and squeezed her shoulder. "And I'm proud of you, honey. Seems like yesterday James was bringing his new school friends over to watch cartoons and work on homework. You've grown up so much."
"Thanks, Charlie," Alex said.
"Take as much time as you need, sweetheart," she said. "Make sure he eats, okay? Tell me or Ned if you want more."
"I will."
Spencer kept feigning sleep as the office door clicked shut. Alex sighed heavily, as if she was trying to ease a heavy load from her shoulders. "We love you, okay?" she said aloud. "We all love you. And you're going to be okay. No more doing this alone."
She shifted him around so she could cuddle him closer and he leaned into her. Later he could try harder, work harder to get past everything, but right then he just wanted to be held while everything was peaceful and quiet, the only sound in the room Alex's heartbeat and her soft humming, the vibration of her collarbone soothing under his cheek.
Author's Notes:
WHEW this chapter is a lot. and this is only half of what I originally outlined. I hit the halfway point and realized it was 7500 words long, so I cut it in half. because. so long.
a lot of this is still very Spencer-centric, but I'm introducing a lot of plotlines with the other kids too- a lot of things that I am REALLY excited to write. Hopefully you can see where I'm laying the groundwork. And family weekend is coming up soon! I just really wanted to introduce Ned and Charlie Blake a little sooner, I love them so much.
Let me know what you think! Thank you so much for reading!
