The Power of Love

Dave pinched his nose and closed his eyes. He leaned back in the jet's leather seat. He missed field work, but the high altitude of the flight made his stomach spin. There was no denying he wasn't feeling well, but the team didn't need to know about it.

"Dave, are you alright?" Hotch asked with concern. The week off he ordered had backfired, forcing Dave into a classroom. He still looked a little gray and as hard as he tried to hide it, Dave lacked his usually infectious vigor.

"It's nothing-" Dave muttered, absently rubbing his shoulder. "Reid, do you have any more antacids?"

"I thought you were a good flyer." Reid said, passing him the bottle from his bag.

"I am," Dave argued. "Bad shrimp. Heh. That's the last time I order room service from a place with polyester blend sheets," he griped and tossed three of the chalky tablets in his mouth.

"Serves you right," Reid rambled. "Cross contamination runs wild at late night buffets. It's usually due to lack of proper temperature control and monitoring "

"That's enough, Pretty Boy," Morgan cut in. "We thank you for the health and safety lesson," he quipped sarcastically.

"But, it's common sense." Reid muttered under his breath.

"No one else got sick." JJ chimed in.

"Well, the immune system tends to get weaker as we age," Reid recited from memory. "The viruses and contaminates that we can throw off tend to attack older people."

"Thanks, Reid," Dave muttered, "I really needed that." He pulled his briefcase onto his lap. "I think I'll work on my manuscript."

Dave gave an annoyed sigh at the knock on his office door. "Hey, Dave," Hotch popped his head through the door, "you got a minute?"

"Hotch, I have a lesson plan to write up," he bit out, without a glance in his friend's direction.

"This won't take long," Hotch took a seat in front of his friend and mentor and waited for him to close the laptop.

"What is it?" Dave closed the laptop irritably.

"When is the last time you had a good night's sleep?"

"Last night, as a matter of fact. I had a 70 pound dog on my arm and slept like a baby..."

"So, you woke up every two hours?" Hotch quipped. "You had some bad shrimp, did you ever get that checked?"

"It's nothing to worry about," Dave protested. "When I say I'm fine, I'm fine."

Hotch gave him a scathing look. "So, you put it off."

"Put what off? It's nothing."

"Then you won't have a problem getting a check-up," Hotch threw back. "I was a prosecutor, Dave, we can do this all day."

Dave huffed, knowing when he was beat, "Fine. But look how your last order turned out. I was dumped in a classroom."

"Strauss will get over it, and if she can't, she can take it up with the director. I'm ordering you to see a physician. If you drop dead, I will write you up for dereliction of duty. Is that understood?"

"You're the boss."

"And don't you forget it." Hotch took out his phone and scanned the calender. "Call me when you get an appointment."

"Paige!" Erin called, letting herself inside her ex husband's house. She called Mark and gave him a brief synopsis of the situation. How their daughter refused her phone calls and all text messages went unanswered. He handed over the key and left for work. If not for her convenience, then to get the teenager out of his house. He was a free man who fulfilled his court ordered obligations.

Paige stormed down the stairs, the pulsing beat of heavy metal music echoed from the bedroom."What are you doing here?!"

"It's been three weeks, Paige," Erin said sternly, leveling the teenager's stony glare. "We need to talk."

"Uh, no we don't," Paige dismissed in her usual flat tone. "Besides, we have nothing to talk about."

"What the hell?" Erin reached out to touch her daughter's newly dyed blonde hair. "Purple?! Have you lost your mind?"

"It's in my color chart. Look, it was either this or green. Okay?" Paige shrugged indifferently.

Erin shook her head. "Good call," she muttered, trying to bridge the rift between them. "If you wanted green hair you could have put your head in a swimming pool for half the price."

"My friend did it for free. Does that make it better?" Paige drawled sarcastically. "God forbid that I spend any of your money for my wants; you might need it for your baby."

"That's not what I meant, Paige and you know it."

"So what did you mean?" Paige's voice choked as she failed to hold back her emotions. "What are you even doing here?"

"I just...I want..." Erin stammered. "Please come home."

"I don't want to." Paige's jaw jutted stubbornly. Instead, she focused on the flies circling the pizza box on the counter.

"Is that your dinner?" Erin inquired. Her eyes didn't miss the grease stained cardboard and the insects trying to get inside. And her heart dropped at the thought of her child starving.

"And if it is?" Paige challenged with faux stubbornness.

"Aren't you tired of pizza? McKenzie told me that's all you eat now."

"If I was tired of it, why would I eat it?" Paige felt her stomach clench in hunger.

Erin shrugged. "It looks to me that you're out of options." She glanced at the take-out menus that littered the counter. "Did your dad leave money?"

"Why do you care?"

"I'm still your mother, and I'm going to take you to my home for a hot meal." If nothing else, she would appeal to her daughter's appetite.

"Oh really," Paige gave a snort, "who's cooking?"

"Come home and find out," Erin offered. "Your cat is going crazy without you."

"Is Paul cleaning the litter box?" Paige asked, worriedly.

"Every day."

"Oh." The teenager's eyes dropped to the floor. "Good."

Erin looked around her surroundings: dirty dishes were piled sky-high and the smell in the kitchen was enough to turn her stomach. "It's Friday, come with me for the weekend."

"No. I don't want to be there."

Erin felt her heart crack at her child's rejection. "Why?"

"Be-because- I can't stand it there," she stammered childishly. "I can't stand the thought of you having a baby; people will think it's mine!"

"What do you suggest I do, Paige? Put the baby up for adoption because it might embarrass you?" Erin returned with just a bit of anger in her tone.

"Women still have the right to choose," Paige volleyed back in spite. "And I'm sure it isn't too late."

Erin sucked in a breath sharp breath. "How can you be so cruel?"

"It's not cruel, Mom. It's...it's...benefiting."

"For whom? You?" Erin tried not to throw up.

"Everyone!" Paige stormed angrily. "You go and get yourself knocked up, and you expect me to accept it like it's a great thing."

"It is a great thing," Erin said, without conviction.

"Oh really?" Paige challenged. "Good luck convincing Paul. Remember the last time something like this happened? He was kicked out of school because you couldn't keep it together! You got to run away to rehab and I got stuck holding the bag."

Erin felt her blood run cold at the mention of the case that nearly ended her career. Her golden boy threw his first punch at the son of the Police Commissioner. "You weren't alone in that," Erin argued. "We all suffered."

"Yeah, Mom, keep telling yourself that." Paige sniffed indifferently and rolled her eyes. "Dad didn't. He took off as soon as you were gone. He paid the bills and left a credit card on the table. We didn't see him again until the day you came home."

"So, what are you doing here? Why do you insist on living with him when he abandoned you when you needed him most?" Erin said hotly.

"Because you can't handle the kids you already have!"

"Clearly," Erin fired back, resting her hip against the counter. "I thought I raised you better than this."

"Don't start, Mom. The poor pitiful me act is getting old."

-There are times when parenthood seems nothing but feeding the mouth that bites you.
Peter De Vries

Author's note: Criminal Minds is owned by CBS and affiliates.