.

Chapter Fifteen

.


.

The party had been in full swing for all of seventeen minutes - banner, balloons, music, a smiling Reid in the guest of honour seat - before Garcia made the opening salvo. When Reid got up to go to the table where the drinks were set up to get some more lemonade, she impulsively hugged him from behind.

"Ooooh, my beautiful, brainy lollipop! I'm going to miss you so MUCH!"

Rossi, the only subdued party-goer that day, still nearly smiled to himself as he saw Reid mouth "Beautiful, brainy lollipop?" to himself and sneak a covert look at his drink, as if someone might have spiked the punchbowl with something. He also saw something else. It might have looked as though no one was paying attention, either talking amongst themselves or watching Jack and Henry play with Clooney as they all sat in the backyard of Morgan's new house, but by the glances out of the corner of their eyes, three people were paying close attention, two pleased and one worried.

"I'm going to miss you too, Garcia," Reid said, oblivious to the notice he was getting.

"What are we going to do without you?!" Garcia sniffled, squeezing her quarry again. "I feel like the family is breaking up!"

Rossi saw Spencer bite his lip. "I'm sorry, Garcia. I'm not doing this to make you sad. We can still be a family. It's just well, families don't live together forever, do they? Eventually, you leave home, right? But they write and call each other and get together for reunions. Just because you don't see them everyday doesn't mean they stop being family, not if they're a strong one."

Garcia pulled back and nodded, wiping at her eye surreptitiously. "And that's what we are! So you better write and call me, 187! At least once a week!"

Reid smiled, "I will."

"Spencer," Blake called, waving him over, "Come back and sit down and finally tell us all about this new job of yours."

Rossi raised an eyebrow as his son eagerly went back to the circle that included the Blakes, Hotch and Beth, Will, Sam, Savannah, and Fran Morgan. Something was going on here. He saw Morgan and J.J. come out from where they'd been hiding in the doorway to the house, and whisper to Garcia as they laid down their plates and bowls of pickles, potato salad and sliced tomatoes and onions.

J.J rolled her eyes. "I thought we were going for subtle, Garcia."

"It was a little over-the-top, Baby Girl."

Garcia smacked him on the arm. "It was not! I meant every word! I just don't do subtle, that's all."

Morgan chuckled, "You got that right," causing Garcia to smack him again. "Anyway, I'm going to put the barbecue on and get those burgers started. You two go sit down for a bit and talk to the others."

Rossi moved closer to the group, hovering unobtrusively, though a bit morosely, on the perimeter.

"An old professor of mine from Cal Tech introduced us," Reid was saying. "Hey, Garcia, did you ever meet Andrew Ito when you were there?"

"Sorry, Junior G-man, but then, I wasn't there very long," the tech analyst said as she sat down.

"Anyway, he met Carter Lewis - "

"The billionaire?" James Blake asked.

"That's him. So Professor Ito met Carter Lewis at some charity dinner and started telling him about this program they have over at Stanford.* It's an engineering course that takes students to different places in the developing world and has them work on coming up with products or solutions to specific problems there. A lot of relief efforts fail because well-meaning groups will donate equipment or build something intricate, only to find that they don't work for the people because the parts are too expensive or hard to find, or it breaks down in the climate, or it costs too much to run and so the majority can't make use of it, or simply because the power or local infrastructure isn't there to support it. Sometimes it's even a cultural thing. So the goal is to find solutions that will be low cost, easy to maintain, etc. For instance, one thing the Stanford group was working on was building a lower cost infusion pump to help babies with pneumonia."

"You're going to be working on saving babies? Ooooh..." Garcia asked, melting a little.

"Uh, well not exclusively, but hopefully yes. I'd like to think we're going to help save lives, or at least make them a little better."

"So how does Lewis come into it?" Hotch asked.

"Well, he wants to start a foundation to expand the idea and provide more co-ordination. We'd work in tandem with Stanford and Caltech, who also wants to get a program going, not only to go more places at once, but also to be more able to follow through on funding and development. I'd work in the field with both other engineers and students and I'd also evaluate projects done independently, to see if we should be funding them as well."

"That sounds like a marvellous opportunity, Reid!" Blake gushed. "You must be excited."

"I am. I really am."

"Are you sure you want to go to Africa, though, Reid?" J.J. questioned.

Reid blinked, a little puzzled by the slight negativity in her tone. "Well, it'll be an adjustment. But like my mother said when I told her, it'll be an adventure."

"It's just that you're… you know, fastidious. How are you going to cope with living in such primitive conditions?"

Reid gazed at her for a moment, not quite sure what was going on. Then he turned to the Blakes. "Actually, I'd like to pick both of your brains about that, especially you, James, if you don't mind. So many of the projects the foundation wants to get started on are medical in nature, so first-hand knowledge from a doctor who's treated people in adverse conditions would be invaluable. What I really need to know is: what are the main obstacles keeping the solutions we already have in place from working? And Alex, I'd love to talk to you about what you know of the languages and culture over there."

"Of course, Spencer," Alex said, and James nodded. "Why don't you come over tomorrow for coffee? Or do you have things to do?"

"No, tomorrow would be great. Everything in my apartment is packed up and ready for storage. I've cancelled the phone, the tv and all the utilities. The rest of my preparations I can do from San Francisco."

"Are you sure you don't want to keep your place, Spence?" J.J. asked with what - to Rossi's eyes - looked like studied casualness.

"Why?"

"Well, in case you don't like your new job. Then you could always come back."

"I'd just get a new place then. That's presuming of course that I came back to Washington."

Morgan stepped up just then, plate in hand. "Okay, who's ready for their burger?" Two high, piping voices rang out, "Me! Me!" and the conversation ended as Jack and Henry dashed up, Clooney on their heels.

-x-

As the afternoon and early evening wore on, it was clear to most what J.J. and Morgan were doing (Garcia having apparently jumped ship at the idea of Reid saving little babies), the most transparent attack being when a sad and wide-eyed Henry came up to Reid and told him that he'd miss him more than even Sprinkles, his class's pet hamster, that he "wouldn't get to see no more cause I'm in the first grade with the big kids now!"

"Oh, buddy, I'll miss you too!" Reid told him, pulling the boy up to sit on his lap.

"Then why are you going? I don't want you to!"

"I know, little man, but just think about all the neat souvenirs I'll be able to send you and Jack!"

Henry gasped. "COOOOOL!" he breathed out in awe. He jumped off his godfather's lap and raced up to where Jack was waiting. "Okay, bye," the little boy called, not even looking back.

While the three co-conspirators slumped in defeat, the rest of the gathering was chuckling at the exchange. "Really, you didn't see that coming?" Blake asked Garcia, sotto voce.

But while that incident momentarily lightened the atmosphere in the room, more and more the group were struggling to maintain the convivial atmosphere in the face of Morgan and J.J.'s increasingly less hidden manoeuvres.

Morgan, to his credit, limited himself to reminding Reid of all the good times they had together as a team - the parties, the nights out at one club or another, the victories they'd had in the field - but J.J. seemed to be taking the alternate route and focusing on the negative. She was sly, phrasing each little question and dig and working it into the conversation so that they all sounded as natural - and even deceptively supportive - as possible, but it was a constant barrage nonetheless. In his excitement - and he was genuinely excited, Rossi noted with sorrow - Reid had not quite caught on (or he was being too polite to fight back), but he was thrown off-step with every hit, his glow of his enthusiasm dimmed a little more each time.

It was after the adults had moved back inside for drinks, and J.J. asked Reid if he seriously thought he could deal with the emotional toll of aid work, that the entire room stopped being able to ignore what was going on.

But Reid smiled and shook his head, pretending to be a little confused by the question. "I've been around victims and the families of victims of the country's most violent serial killers for the last decade."

"Well, sure, but you don't really deal with them directly, do you?" J.J. pointed out. "I mean, you're almost always back at the police station working on colouring in your maps."

Will placed a hand on her upper arm. "Can we speak together in the kitchen for a moment, Cher?"

"Will, I'm asking a legitimate question."

He bent over and whispered in her ear. "No, you're not. Now either follow me to the kitchen or we're leaving."

While Sam and Garcia, backed by Savannah and both Morgans, put the music on and tried to get the others interested in a party game, Spencer rose to his feet.

"Leave it, Reid," Hotch advised from his chair, grabbing the other man's arm and holding him back.

"Let go of me, Hotch."

Rossi, unobtrusively following three feet behind, followed Reid to the entrance of the kitchen just as J.J. was telling Will that all they were doing was protecting Spence.

"Cher, there's a fine line between protecting someone and crippling them."

"You don't understand, Will!"

"I understand that he loves all of you and he usually does what you tell him because he doesn't understand that you'll still love him even if he doesn't."

"He needs us, Will. He needs people to look after him!"

"Does he? Or do you just need to be in control?"

"What? Where are you getting that from?"

"This isn't the place for that. But from what I can see, you seem hell-bent on confinin' him and keeping him stuck here, no matter what might be best for him."

"Look Will, the simple fact is, Reid can't take care of himself!" J.J. snapped.

"Are you some sort of idiot?"

Will and J.J whipped around, spotting Reid for the first time. Rossi, behind and off to the side, tensed. Spencer almost never alluded to the differences in I.Q. between he and his team-mates, not even obliquely, and certainly never as an insult.

"Spence, now I know ya'll are upset, and you've got reason to be, but that's my wife you're talking to."

Behind him, Rossi heard James Blake suggesting to the other non-team members that they all go outside to finish cleaning up. Fran, Beth, Sam and Savannah quickly followed him out. Will remained standing next to J.J. in the kitchen.

"I didn't mean like that, Spence. It's just… well, you know how you are."

"Enlighten me."

"Okay. For a start, you're emotionally…" J.J. paused, struggling for a word. "Immature," was what she finally came up with.

"Yeah, okay," Reid said, then pointed to each of his team-mates in turn. "Three divorces, divorced, till recently worked on a separate continent as her spouse, in the first relationship that's lasted longer than a night since I've known him, unable to commit between Kevin and Sam, and thank your lucky stars Will at least knows what he wants because you sure as hell never seem to!"

"Just what in the hell is that supposed to mean?" J.J. shouted indignantly.

"It means let's stop pretending that I'm the only broken one here."

"Fine, you want to know what else? You haven't thought this through. You're jumping into this because you can't deal with what's going on. I mean, have you even considered how in the hell you're going to be an engineer when you can't even use a computer?"

Reid laughed, a harsh bark that was alien coming out of him. "I think you're confusing can't and don't, Jennifer. I don't like using computers because scrolling through screen after screen only slows me down, when I can simply spread papers out and take all the information in at once."

"Sure, sure."

"For Pete's sake - I've got doctorates in Mathematics, Engineering and Chemistry! You don't think using a computer came into my studies somewhere? Oh wait, no, because you're too lazy to look past first impressions and think!"

"Reid, man, cool down!" Morgan said.

"Oh, and like you're any better with all of your maudlin reminiscences!" Reid snapped, turning to him.

"That wasn't what it was about!" Morgan protested.

"No, no. I get it. I do. This isn't a farewell party, it's an intervention. It's not to say goodbye, or wish me well or tell me what an exciting adventure I'm going to have. It's all about emotionally manipulating the deluded little boy into keeping him exactly where you want him."

"For your own good, Spence!" J.J. argued. "Just for your own good."

"For my own good?" Reid repeated incredulously.

"Let's face it, Spence, you're running away only because finding out Rossi is your father has thrown you for a loop and you can't handle it."

"She's right, you know," Morgan said. "And what's worse is how you're throwing away something half this team would give their eyeteeth for!"

"What?"

"You think me or Baby Girl or J.J. or Will wouldn't kill to have our fathers back? Or Blake her mom?"

"That's unfair," Reid growled.

"Hey, I call'em like I see'em, Pretty Boy."

"Oh, really? And were you thinking about Blake or Garcia or me when you were going on and on last week about how you didn't want your Mom to come because she only wanted to 'scope out Savannah' and 'give you grief about not having grandbabies yet'? Did I say to you, 'Gee, Morgan, don't you understand how nice it is to have a Mom who can come and visit you whenever you wanted or remembered your birthday or even goddamned knows who you are?' "

"Look, I'm sorry about your Mom's condition - "

"I wasn't just talking about her, you insensitive prick!" Reid shouted, the sheer volume stunning them all.

"What?" a confused Morgan asked.

"Do you see Carolyn Rossi anywhere around? Do you? No. You know why? Because she died before I ever even got to meet her! So don't lecture to me about all the things I'm getting that you don't have when you at least got ten years with your Dad!"

"I'm sorry for that Spence, I really am," J.J. began, "but it still doesn't change the facts. You're just not… not…"

"What, capable? Competent? Why? Just because I don't know what Twilight or 'BFF' or the 'Kissing in a tree' song are? You know, I don't think that will be too much of a hindrance. I'm pretty certain they let other people besides thirteen-year-old girls into Africa."

J.J. straightened. "You want me to be honest then, Spencer? You're not tough. You won't survive a minute out there."

"Right. I forgot. I need people to take care of me. I can't take care of myself or, presumably, others. Is that it?"

"Truthfully, yes."

"Do you remember a few years ago when you were looking for a baby-sitter for Henry?"

J.J was confused. "Uh… sure."

"But you were hesitant to let me do it because I'd never watched Henry on my own before. So I reassured you by telling you I'd watched an episode of Mr. Belvedere."

"Right."

"I said that because it was easier. I said that because I didn't want to say, 'No, I haven't, but I did spend eight years taking care of paranoid schizophrenic, you shallow dingbat, so maybe, just maybe, I can handle a three-year-old for a few hours.' "

"It's not the same," J.J. started to explain.

"Well, let's see, I was the one who had to talk her out of bed, to convince her to eat and take her medicine, and to have a bath once in awhile. I was the one who got her to her doctor's appointments, who nursed her when she got sick, who treated her cuts and bruises - and there were a lot, because delusional episodes are really not conducive to remaining injury free. I cooked, cleaned, did the laundry, fixed the drywall when she busted a hole in it, made her take the car in when the brakes weren't working, made sure the grass was cut, called the repairmen when things weren't working, dealt with the toilet when it overflowed and a million other things involved in keeping a house going. I was the one who locked the doors at night, made sure she didn't leave the appliances on and start a fire, who made sure the bills got paid and did the taxes every year. I was also the one who calmed her down during her episodes, soothed her nightmares, and kept the neighbours from calling Social Services on us.

"Sound familiar in any way? Maybe like being a parent? But, oh hey, there's more. I've also supported her financially since I was sixteen and Dad stopped putting money in our accounts. At first it was just to keep us fed and put shelter over our heads, but I've been paying for full-time medical care since before I could legally drink.

"And then there was the gruelling emotional and logistical nightmare of having to have her hospitalized - a decision most children don't have to make about their parents until they're in their fifties or sixties and their parents in their eighties! I had to gain power of attorney. I set up a trust fund. And I had to make a will before I was nineteen years old because - what was the point again? - oh, yes, I had a dependent and I had to think of who would take care of her if something happened to me!

"Plus, there's the minor point that I also spent this time earning three doctorates. High I.Q or not, they don't hand those things out in Cracker Jack boxes!

"But you know, you're right, there are a couple of differences between what I went though and what you do as a parent. For one, you have help. And two, there's the very relevant fact that Henry's not a foot taller than you and able to throw you to the ground if you ask him to do something he doesn't want to do.

"So don't you dare stand there, J.J. and tell me that I'm not tough enough! That I won't last or I can't survive! And don't you for a minute think that I can't take care of myself or others, because I started doing that right around the same time you were starting junior high!"

Reid, breathing heavily, glanced around at his stunned team. They could actually see the anger draining out of him, leaving only sadness and disappointment behind. "Well, I suppose your plan back-fired," he said. "All this has done is convince me that I made entirely the right choice. Perhaps I'll have co-workers in my next job who can look a little deeper and find some confidence in me after ten years."

J.J., tears welling in her eyes, tried to grab him, but she wasn't quick enough.

Rossi stepped in front of him, suspicious moisture pricking at his own eyes. "Don't go, Spencer. Not like this," he pleaded.

Reid looked him in the eyes. "Was it you?"

"What?" Rossi asked, taken aback.

"Did you put them up to this?"

"No, of course not!"

"But you didn't mind them doing it. You didn't think to stop them."

Dave hesitated, unable to lie.

"Of course. Why should I have expected differently?" Reid said, before making his way out the door.

-x-

It happened before anyone could blink. Reid was half way down the front walk before their stupor lifted and, Dave in the lead, they jogged out after him. The younger man was just stepping onto the sidewalk when Clooney suddenly dashed passed, followed by an unthinking Henry.

Several things happened at once. J.J. screamed Henry's name so loudly her throat would be sore for days, there was a horrifying screech of brakes, every adult both indoors and out raced towards them in the foolish hopes that they could stop what was about to happen, while Doctor Spencer Reid lunged desperately forward like an Olympic sprinter.

If he'd been able to do a quick grab and go, pulling Henry to him and then running to the other side of the road, they might have been fine. But the road, quiet normally, was also subject to the occasional street racer and so - more swiftly than even his magnificent brain could consciously think - when he saw the second car coming up the other side, Reid's body instinctively reacted. Pivoting in an almost breathtakingly beautiful move, he turned around on one foot and hurled Henry from him and towards Morgan's lawn. The little boy went flying just as the car was slamming into Reid. Will, the first to get there, caught Henry in his arms and they both fell heavily to the ground.

Rossi, at the same time, could only watch in horror as his son was struck by a full ton of speeding metal. Like a rag doll, the force of the collision knocked Spencer's body violently through the air. Coming down brutally against the curb, Reid lay unmoving.

.


* As I was telling one of my reviewers, I ironically got the idea for Reid's new job from - indirectly - Matthew Gray Gubler himself. Not long after I started this story, I watched a PBS documentary on the Stanford course (which is indeed a real thing), that Mr. Gubler was narrating. It's called "Extreme By Design" and it is extremely fascinating. I was unable to watch it again on the net because of location restrictions, which was a pity because I wanted to check some of the details before writing, but if you're able to, I highly recommend trying the PBS website or elsewhere to see if you can catch it. As for Caltech, maybe they have the same thing, but I don't know.

Anyway, I spent nearly the entire program listening to MGG and thinking, "Holy Cow, if your character ever left the FBI, this would be the perfect job for him!" Et voila!

Okay, about all the angst try and hang on, because it won't last much longer now! A bit in the next chapter (maybe two, but it's unlikely), and then things are going to start turning around. Trust me. And yes, I know, hitting Spencer with a car smacks of unnecessary drama, but the whump does have a purpose. Really!

Also, my apologies to J.J. and Morgan fans. I didn't really mean to let things get this vicious because that makes them both a little OOC, but if the next chapter goes how I want it, J.J.'s behaviour at least will be explained a little.

And a little shout-out to tannerose5 for the thing about Diana. I included it because you're absolutely right - she would totally call it an adventure and tell him to go!

Oh, and one last thing - does anyone know if Savannah is a doctor or a nurse or something else? She was wearing medical scrubs the one time, but I missed if the ever specified what job she did.