Snuck one more in before the year ended

Chapter Twenty-Five

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A weary Dave was just rubbing his eyes and wondering if the paperwork would ever end when he heard a light rap on his office door. He looked up to see Hotch.

"Sorry to interrupt, Dave, but have you got the Follett file?"

"Probably," Dave sighed, eyeing the piles spread out all over his desk like tottering snow drifts. "Is it just me, or has there been some kind of population explosion in the serial killer community of late? If feels like we've had nothing but non-stop cases."

Hotch grimaced as he came in. "I don't think it has anything to do with more cases. I'm afraid the problem is that it's taking us longer and longer to solve each one and so now they're tending to run one into another more often."

Dave understood immediately. "So where are we on the search for our next genius?" he asked as he sorted through files, looking for the missing one.

"Let's just say I never truly respected how vital Reid was until I had to try and replace him."

"No luck at all?"

Hotch sat down. "The only person who matched Reid's genius - on paper anyway - said, 'Ooh, icky!' and fainted when I showed him a crime scene photo. When he came to, he tried to assure me he wasn't crazy by insisting that 'his mother had had him tested'. Turns out he wasn't even in the F.B.I. and had only come in because someone named Wolowitz had dared him after hacking into our database and putting him on the short list of candidates. Garcia's tracking this 'Wolowitz' down now."

"You're kidding!"

"Sadly, no. But the entire event does serve to highlight the problem: Reid was unique. I'm trying to be realistic - I know we're not going to be that lucky and manage to get the same mix of intellect, inner strength and innate understanding of unsubs again - but I was at least hoping for someone able to take over the geographical profiling. The only decent prospect that way, however, is still a cadet and I'd prefer someone more experienced."

"How much experience did Spencer have when Gideon recruited him?"

Hotch looked hesitant. "To be honest, Dave, Jason and I pushed Reid too far too fast. The fact that he managed to hang on, let alone thrive and become an asset, is all down to his tenacity. But I'm not going to do that again. Not if I can help it."

Dave nodded. "Fair point. Still, we're going to need someone soon if we're not going to work ourselves into the ground."

"I've been looking at Kate Callahan. She's nothing like Reid, but she's an excellent agent with undercover experience and I'd scoop her up in a second if she was replacing one of the others…"

"But Reid was unique," Dave finished for him.

"Indeed he was. Speaking of which, how's he been lately?"

Dave snorted. "You know, out of all the things I pictured becoming in my later years, being the team's 'Reid expert' wasn't even on the list."

"You're the only one who still sees him everyday," Hotch gently pointed out.

"Yeah," Dave said softly, looking away.

"Dave?"

"He's… I don't know. I thought things would be a little easier now that Ma and Pop have gone home, and he did seemed a little relieved at first, but now he's… subdued? Withdrawn? I don't know how to describe it. Even his body language is tense and practically screams, 'Don't touch!' But he is avoiding me - that I know for sure. He sleeps in until after I leave for work, and when I'm home he's either in his room studying or doing laps in the pool."

Dave slumped with a sigh. "And he's having nightmares," he finished ominously.

"Nightmares? About what?"

"He won't tell me."

"I'm sorry."

"I just don't know what to do, Aaron. It's driving me crazy! I mean, I've been enjoying the hell out of this new thing between us. I wasn't sure that I would, but it's been great. For me. But it's coming at what cost to him?"

"Has something happened?"

Dave massaged the bridge of his nose. "It seems Diana didn't take the news well when he told her a few months ago. She's refused to talk to him ever since, and… well, she's been doing worse."

"Damn."

"Yeah. So basically, I've had something wonderful added to my life, but I've caused my son to have something taken away from his."

Hotch leaned forward, making sure his old friend was looking at him. "Dave, this isn't your fault."

"No, it isn't. But I still can't help but feel that I am somehow the cause. If people didn't know my name from my books - "

"Reid still would've had to tell his mother. Unless he planned on living with the constant threat of her finding out by accident, which I don't see for a second, he had to break it to her, and sooner rather than later."

"I suppose you're right. Doesn't really help, though."

Hotch didn't know what to say, so he changed the subject. "Garcia wants to throw Reid a surprise party for his birthday."

"Seriously? Why, because the last one wasn't enough of a life-scarring disaster?" Dave snapped.

Hotch held up a hand. "Don't worry. I put her off. I told her that this was your first chance to celebrate your son's birthday - well, at least since finding out that he is your son - and so the two of you might have special plans."

"God, I hadn't even thought about it! Well, I guess I can rule out getting a picture of him smashing his face in a birthday cake like most kids on their first birthday."

"Smart bet," Hotch added dryly.

-x-

Spencer knew Dave was surprised when he agreed to let Garcia throw a party. He could also tell from the older man's swiftly hidden look of deep disappointment that Dave had also noticed that he'd chosen the party only after being offered the option of a quiet meal out with just the two of them, but he couldn't help that. Truthfully, what Spencer really wanted more than anything was to get into bed and hide under his covers until the whole damn day had passed, but he knew that this year his birthday wasn't just a special day for him, but for Dave too, and so he steeled himself to go through with at least some kind of celebration.

Therefore he pretended not to look as Dave handed his wallet over to Garcia, and tried not to shield his eyes from the chaotic explosion of brightly coloured balloons and streamers assaulting them when the big day came (the thirteenth, he noticed, and not the ninth like he was used to), and when everyone pretended not to notice that the birthday boy looked as uncomfortable and ill-at-ease as someone undergoing badly done acupuncture, he dutifully did his bit and gamely put on a smile for every one of their greetings of 'Happy Birthday!'

And, when the sight of Jack and Henry playing with Mudgie brought on a flashback of his last party, he calmly and quietly slipped into the kitchen to be alone before dashing outside, falling to his hands and knees and vomiting all over Dave's flower bed.

Lost in physical misery, he flinched violently when suddenly a cool hand was placed against his forehead and another at his waist. He moaned and tried to pull away involuntarily.

"Easy, Reid. Easy. It's just me."

"No! Don't! Let go."

"Shh, shh," Hotch soothed. "Let me help." Spencer couldn't do anything as his body hunched and emptied itself again. The hand holding him up at his waist moved and started rubbing comforting circles against the small of his back.

When it seemed to be over, Hotch wordlessly lead him over to the steps of Dave's back deck and had him sit down. The cool mid-October air felt good against his face and helped alleviate the dizzy, dull ache in his head. Hotch, after fetching his cane for him (which thankfully had been hurled far enough away to avoid the mess), sat down next to him. Leaving him sometime to recover, several minutes went by before Hotch said anything.

"When Haley and I were sophomores in college, she, Jessica and their folks threw me a surprise birthday party," the older man began, as if he were just casually telling an inconsequential anecdote around the lunch table while on a case. "It was the first one anyone had given me in years, and certainly the first one anyone had thrown for me for any reason other than obligation and keeping up appearances. All our friends from school were there, and there were drinks and food and music and dancing. And everyone brought presents. I received more presents in that one night than I had for the ten years before that. It was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for me up to that point.

"And when it was over, I kissed Haley and thanked her profusely, and then I went off and got black-out drunk for the first time in my life."

He looked at Hotch, stunned, but Hotch continued staring at some far off point beyond Dave's back fence.

"I don't like to think why it bothered me so much, why I couldn't be grateful or happy," Hotch went on. "After the life I had had growing up, I suppose there were a myriad of reasons. Being overwhelmed. Feeling like I didn't deserve it. Or maybe it was being confronted by how things should have been. Of course, you can't tell people that, because then you're fed the line about how bad things should make you appreciate the good times more, which only adds to the guilt and feeling that something is terribly wrong with you. But it's hard, isn't it? Hard to get past all the old anger and brokenness. The resentment at having to gibber with gratitude for the slightest scrap of happiness while watching others enjoy so much of it they can afford to be complacent, all the while knowing they'll never really understand why kindness brings you more pain and confusion than anything else.

"And then there's the fear of wondering if you'll ever be able to act normally, to feel normal, when people show you their love."

Hotch looked at him then. "You will, you know. It may take years, but you will."

"Did you know Carolyn's mother had a memory like mine?"

Hotch didn't say anything. Instead he waited patiently until Spencer was ready to go on.

"I've been video-chatting on the computer with my cousin Caitlin. She's been researching our Grandma Lucy and thinks she might have worked at Bletchley Park during the war, breaking codes. It's really quite interesting. And Caitlin said that Grandma Lucy is probably where my eidetic memory comes from." He turned away, unable to look at Hotch. "How? How can I ever get past knowing that this was the life I should have had? With loving parents to protect me and doting grandparents to spoil me, one of whom might have understood me better than anyone else ever has. That all of this was robbed from me and now I'm a freak who can't even deal with basic warmth and affection."

He looked down at his knees. "I thought I was there. I was happy and the past was behind me and I had accepted it. Yes, bad things had happened to me and my life was harder than some, but how else could it have been?" He waved a hand backwards, towards his father's house. " But then this happens and it all comes back, because this was how it all could have been!"

"Are you giving up?" a voice asked softly from behind them.

Spencer tensed, but was too scared to turn around. He heard footsteps approaching, then Hotch got up and silently departed at the same time Spencer felt a strong, warm hand squeeze his shoulder. "I thought that making the decision to try and be your son would be the hard part. That once that was done, everything else would be, I don't know, easier," he explained without looking back.

He felt another squeeze of his shoulder. "I know. But just don't give up," he heard his father plead. "Please."

-x-

Spencer stayed. It wasn't easy. There were tense days, many long discussions, and the occasional blow-ups. Things were hard for Dave as well; hearing stories of Spencer's life - the goalpost story and the full details of what happened in that cabin with Tobias Hankle among them - filled the older man with an impotent rage that even the counselling they had decided to take (one session a week for each on his own and one together) couldn't quite get rid of it.

Kate Callahan joined the team, but in the end she was Blake's replacement and not Reid's. Not long after Spencer's birthday, Alex came over one day while Dave was at one of Jack's soccer games and explained how she had decided to leave the Bureau and join James in Boston. It was a hard blow, but seeing as he had already left the team himself, Reid could hardly fault her for it and he was at least grateful for the chance to say a proper goodbye. (He also had to admit to himself, that petty though it seemed, he was also grateful that she had told him before anyone else.)

But there were bright moments too. Kate and her niece Meg got an unusually candid introduction to the new father and son dynamic when Rossi picked them and Garcia up to attend Henry's birthday party. They had just pulled out of Kate's driveway when Dave's phone rang. Since he was driving, Spencer picked it up.

"Oh, hi Fran," they heard him say. "No, he can't talk right now. Can he call you back in a few minutes? Sure. All right. Goodbye."

"So did Fran have to say?" Dave asked, not quite succeeding in hiding his interest.

"She was just calling to say hi. She'll call you back tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Sooo, is there something you want to tell me?" Reid asked.

"Like what?"

Garcia jumped in eagerly. "Like is there something between you and our Goddess of Peach Cobbler?"

"No! What? We're just friends!"

"Friends like you and Bossman are friends or friends like you and Chief Strauss were friends?"

"Garcia!"

"Technically, that's not an answer," Spencer pointed out.

"Friends like… like me and Fran are friends!" Dave protested.

"Hmmm, a very telling answer," Garcia smirked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dave stated.

"Okay, but you will give me a head's up if I'm getting a new Mommy, right?" Spencer joked. Dave just barely kept himself from gaping with amazement; he didn't think Spencer had ever teased him before.

"Saputello."

"Well, I do seem to have a surplus already. There's Mom, Carolyn, two step-mothers I don't even know the names of, nearly Chief Strauss, that lady at the jazz club - "

"Ooh, what lady at the jazz club?" Garcia asked.

"I only dated her three times!"

"Being more careful now that you need your kid's approval?" Garcia questioned.

"Dave can marry whomever he wants," Spencer said.

"Except his sister-in-law?"

"Thanks, Garcia," Dave groused. "Kate and Meg here are going to think I come from the cast of Deliverance."

"What's Deliverance?" Meg asked.

"I'll explain it tonight," Kate told her.

"Anyway, Dave can marry Floria if he wants," Spencer said. "I just won't ever come home then."

"Aw, don't be like that, Polpetto," Dave poked at Spencer in return.

"Polpetto?" Kate asked.

"It's a term of endearment Italian parents use with their children," Dave explained. "It means 'meatball'."

All three ladies in the back laughed at that. "Oh, Polpetto!" Garcia gushed. "That's so cute!"

"There's also Patatino, which means 'little potato'."

"And Kusojijii," Spencer shot back.

"What does that mean?" Dave demanded.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," Spencer smirked.

"That's nice. What are you, about seven?"

"Weren't you there when I was born?"

"How do you spell it, Doctor Reid?" Meg asked, tapping on her phone. Spencer spelled it out and grinned when the three ladies in back burst into laughter.

"What? What does it mean?" Dave asked. "I swear to God, I'll stop this car right now - "

"We're only a block from Will and J.J.'s," Spencer pointed out. "I don't think it matters. And by the way, I am well aware of what saputello means."

Despite the laughs at his expense, Dave was in a happy mood as they all watched Henry tear into his presents. The very fact that Spencer could tease him was the sign of a welcome shift in their relationship and he grinned at the younger man's growing acceptance of him as his father.

At least, that is, until Morgan called Spencer Polpetto and Spencer asked him, "Are you sure you want to go down that road, Sugar-Winkie?"

"How do you know about that?" Morgan demanded.

"Ask Dave. He talks to your Mom about four times a week."

"Really," Morgan said dangerously. "I think you and I need to have a little talk, Rossi."

Dave glared at Spencer. "Traitor."

-x-

It was just before Christmas - the 23rd, or Christmas Eve Eve as Jack called it - when David Rossi officially got the gift of a son.

Not that it was easy. Apart from Spencer's sudden reluctance to let Dave sign the final affidavit (Dave had gently taken his son's hand away and spent several minutes reassuring the younger man that he wanted to do it for the both of them), there had also been the problem of Spencer having three birth certificates.

There was the one of course issued for James Rossi, but that also came with a matching death certificate. Then there was the certificate William Reid had filed during the adoption process, using the information Janine Rutherford had provided at the time, all of which had turned out to be false. Not only were the date and birth mother's name incorrect, but his birth father was listed as "John Bell" and place of birth as Oregon.

And finally, there was the certificate Diana had filed - for whatever reasons of her own - when Spencer was ten, listing her and William Reid as Spencer's birth parents. Perhaps because it was in a different state, or because she had changed Spencer's middle name from Daniel to William, it had not come up as a duplicate of the one already filed. (Both Spencer and Dave were astonished it had also never come up in the countless background and security checks done when Reid first joined the Bureau.) Ironically, it was this certificate Spencer himself would use eight years later to prove his filial relationship to Diana in order to have her committed.

But Dave's lawyers, aided free of charge by the firm of Hughes, MacCauley and Broadbent, found the top law specialists in adoption and, fittingly, nine months after Spencer Reid had found out he was David Rossi's son, he was officially "born" again and given a final certificate, annulling all others.

There was only one moment of hesitation, and that was when Spencer was asked what he wanted to use as his legal name. Having thought no more about the idea since the first night after he'd found out he was Dave's son, Spencer had been taken aback. Blinking at the wall of lawyers facing him from across the table, he had hesitantly asked for a day to think about it.

Dave had been quiet as he had driven the two of them back to his house. He couldn't help but shoot Spencer the occasional worried glance, but apart from that, he was determined to remain silent on the subject until Spencer brought it up himself.

It wasn't until a few hours later when they were doing dishes and watching Henry play outside with Mudgie (the team had been doing a lot of baby-sitting so that J.J. and Will could talk things out and repair their relationship a bit), that Spencer finally asked Dave if he wanted him to become a Rossi.

Dave paused and thought carefully before he said anything. "I would be thrilled and immensely honoured if you did, but I don't know if that's the best thing for you. So, if you want to stay a Reid, I'll understand."

"I've been thinking about it. While it would be a hassle to change the name on my degrees, the professional reputation I've built is no longer as important now that I've left the Bureau."

Dave passed him a plate to dry. "Don't say that. It's still important and it's still an accomplishment to be proud of. But the paperwork wasn't what I was talking about. I don't think it's the best thing for you because Spencer Reid is who you are."

Reid bit his lip and looked away.

"And," Dave added, "I don't think you want to change it, do you?"

"Honestly, no. Do you mind?"

"I'm a little sad, but I'll get over it. And Hell, I'm used to calling you Spencer Reid."

"Are you sure? I mean, can you really keep calling me that, knowing all the time that it was the name someone else gave me?"

Dave nodded towards the little boy in his backyard, tossing snowballs in the air for Mudgie to bite at. "Look at Henry," he said. "His last name is Lamontagne, but he's the spitting image of J.J. A name is only a label denoting one parent. You could equally be as justified in changing your name to Matheson as to Rossi. Perhaps even more so, since you take after your mother's side so much. And William and Diana Reid are your parents as well. Maybe not biologically, but they did shape who you became. Though I hate some of the ways it happened, without the things they did - good or bad - you wouldn't be the man you are today.

"And besides, I don't think of 'Reid' as their name, I think of it as yours." He looked at the younger man beside him, not finding the relieved expression he expected. "What is it? I thought you'd be happy."

"I am. It's just…well, will you still feel the same way if I have children some day? It's one thing to be okay with calling me Reid because that's what you've always called me, but when you hear your grandchildren not being called Rossi and know that your descendents will carry a different name…"

Rossi smiled, relaxing at the homey sound of dishes clunking gently together in the water. "Kid, I didn't expect to ever have a child after I thought you died, let alone grandchildren. This - this right here, me enjoying a quiet evening with my son - that's more than I could have hoped for a year ago. As far as I'm concerned, any more family members you end up giving me will be a bonus. What their last name will be is completely irrelevant. It might not even be Reid, if you end up having kids with someone who doesn't want to get married or wants them to have her name or a hyphenate or whatever. So don't worry about any of that, for heaven's sake!"

Spencer finally smiled.

"That's better," Dave said. "Now go call Henry inside and I'll make some hot chocolate. I think the kid is turning blue."

And so the next day, Spencer Reid signed a forest's worth of papers to officially become 'Spencer Reid' (a thing he found immensely ridiculous, but was used to as a former government employee). There was one change, however.

Rossi was speechless when Spencer showed him his new birth certificate.

"Do you approve?" Spencer asked.

Dave swallowed down a lump and nodded shakily. "Spencer James Reid," he read out. "Does your father…?"

"I talked to him this morning and told him about it. He didn't even know Mom had changed my middle name to William, so he didn't mind that, but I think he was a little sad to know it wouldn't be Daniel since that was his brother's name. However, he seemed to think it was a more than fair exchange when I explained that I was keeping the name Reid."

"And," Reid continued shyly, "well, as for James, it just seemed like a good name that deserved to be used. Even if I'm not going to be called by it, it was the name you and my mother wanted. And it is a part of me, even if I didn't know it for so long."

David Rossi embraced his son. "Thank you," he whispered hoarsely. "Your mother would have been so happy right now."

-x-

The subject of names wasn't finished though. Later that night, as Dave was watching television and Spencer reading not far away, Spencer asked out of the blue:

"Dave, why does your father want me to call him Pops and not Nonno?"

"Pop grew up with both of his grandfathers nearby. His Pop-Pop, or Pops as he got older, was his favourite. His Nonno on the other hand was hard, stern man."

"Oh. Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"Is there anything special you would like me to call you?"

Dave shut off the tv and turned to him. "What?"

"You know, Dad or Pop or Father or - "

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Dave said hurriedly before Spencer could list every option available. "I just… it's strange, but I never considered this."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"So do you have any preferences?"

Dave thought about it. "Not Father," he said. "It's too formal. Besides, I grew up with too many priests around for me to not picture a man in a black robe when hearing that word."

"Pa?"

"Too 'Little House on the Prairie.' "

Spencer looked slightly confused by that answer, but instead of asking about it, he made another suggestion. "Papa?"

"Maybe if I'd been hearing it from you since you were a little boy, but for some reason I think it would sound strange now."

"So Pop or Dad?"

"I'm used to Pop, but there's also something about Dad. Do you have any preferences?"

Dave could see Spencer mulling it over. "Let me think about it," he said.

-x-

There were presents galore under the tree - Dave even outdid his parents, who had arrived a few days before and were now asleep upstairs - but the best gift he himself got that day was when he came upon his son standing in front of the tree and was greeted with, "Merry Christmas, Dad."

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* I got all of these words off translation sites on the net, so no promises as to veracity. But, according to the web at least, saputello is Italian for "Smart Ass", and kusojijii is Japanese for "Old Fart".

Oh, the ending! So sappy, I know! Anyway, that is not the ending of the story. There will be at least one more chapter before the proper end, and, no promises, but there might be several more after that as sort of "DVD extras". There are a lot of conversations that I wanted to put in (not the least of which is why Morgan is called Sugar-Winkie), but that didn't quite fit, and yet you should still get them because of course there are still a lot of unresolved issues and missing things that would explain the various changes of heart, etc. So we'll see.

In any case, I hope you all had a happy holiday - whatever you celebrate - and all my wishes for a fantastic New Year!