Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds
A/N: Thanks to everybody who continues to read and review. It's great to hear from you all.
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"What a surprise, I had no idea you all would be here." Allie said to the group assembled in her parents' living room.
"Well sis," Dylan said, "You don't come home all that often and Mom said you were bringing this guy you're always talking about."
"Oh my gosh, Spencer," Allie turned to find Reid standing in the entrance where she had left him. She took his hand and squeezed it. "Come meet my family."
Reid found himself being pulled into the living room. It was a homey room with a comfortable looking couch and love seat upholstered in black leather but with brightly colored quilts and afghans resting on the back, giving the room a punch of color as did the bold artwork on the walls. A stone fireplace graced one wall, flanked on both sides by floor to ceiling mahogany bookcases that were filled to capacity and his eyes were immediately drawn to them. Two comfy rocking chairs sat in front of the fireplace. A plush oversized armchair sat invitingly on the other side of the couch. In the daytime light spilled in from a large bay window at the front of the house. There were family pictures on the mantle while plants and personal ornaments adorned the room and Reid could tell that this room was often occupied and much loved by those living in the home. The room was occupied now by more Grahams than Reid had expected.
"Everybody, this is Dr. Spencer Reid." Allie indicated Reid with her hand. "Spencer, this is my Dad, Lloyd and my Mom, Joan."
Reid shook hands with Allie's father, "Pleased to meet you sir," he turned to Joan Graham, "Nice to meet you too Mrs. Graham."
"There'll be none of that around here son, I'm Lloyd and this is Joan."
Joan took one of Reid's hands in both of hers. "Oh my, we are so glad you've come to our home at last. We've so wanted to meet the young man our daughter's so fond of."
"Oh, can we please get on with this, I'm seventy-eight years old, I don't have forever," the elderly man said, breaking in on Joan's greeting and taking Reid's hand. "I'm Charlie, Lloyd's Dad, that's my wife Marion," he pointed to the small elderly woman with gray hair, who stepped forward and smiled and nodded at Reid. "Those two scalawags over there are Lloyd and Joan's other two, Chelsea and Dylan." Allie's siblings approached Reid and shook hands.
"Nice to meet you," Chelsea said, "My sister has told us all about you."
"Now, you come and sit down. I'll go make some coffee. Allie says you love your coffee. You could probably use it after that drive. Have you eaten?" Joan asked, while leading Reid to the black leather couch.
"Please, Mrs. Graham, don't go to any trouble on my account. We had dinner in Clarksburg."
"Oh, don't you worry about her, my boy, she's never happier than when she's looking after people," Lloyd explained to Reid. He looked at Allie and added, "Why don't you go help your mother while we get acquainted with your beau."
Allie seemed about to refuse her father as she looked at the obviously uncomfortable Reid whose facial expression was that of a man who'd been thrown to the wolves. "Go on Honey, we won't eat him, I promise."
Allie went in the direction her mother had gone, leaving Spencer to face the inquisition. "So, Allie tells us you're an FBI agent," Charlie enquired.
"Yes sir," Reid replied, "I'm a behavioral analyst."
"What exactly is that," Chelsea wanted to know?
"Well, we study crimes and try to predict through analyzing the criminal's behavior, where he would likely strike next and try to prevent that from happening. It's more commonly known as a profiler."
"So, you deal with like serial killers and what not," Dylan asked?
"Yes, we deal mostly with serial killers, sometimes with child abductions, that sort of thing," Reid said, starting to feel more comfortable when he was talking about his work, an area where he felt confident.
"Allie, stop pacing about and put some cups and small plates on that tray for me, what is the matter with you." Joan looked questioningly at her daughter, who seemed more interested in what was going on in the living room than helping get the coffee ready.
"It's just that I wish I was in there. Spencer is a really shy guy and you know how Dad can be. Sometimes when he talks to people he forgets that he hasn't got them under oath on the witness stand."
"Honey, I'm sure your young man can handle it. He handles pretty heavy stuff every day in his job, I'm sure he can handle Lloyd and Charlie."
"Allie says you're from Las Vegas," Charlie looked at Reid.
"Ah, yes sir, that's correct." Reid said, hoping this was not going any further.
"Are your family still out there dear," Marion questioned, "It's an awfully long way from home for you."
"My mother is still in Las Vegas but my father is no longer there."
Chelsea spoke from one of the rockers beside the fireplace, "So where does he live, your Dad?"
"My Dad," Reid looked around for the nearest exit, an open window, anything, but escape seemed impossible and Allie would be upset to return from the kitchen to find he'd bolted. "My Dad is presently living in Kansas."
"Whereabouts in Kansas. I was there for a while as a young man before Marion and I moved to Columbus. A nice place is Kansas. So where does your Dad live in Kansas?"
"Um, my father is in Leavenworth." Reid mumbled hoping that no one would pick up on it.
"Did you say Leavenworth," Dylan asked, "You mean where the penitentiary is? Does your Dad work in the prison system?"
"Ah, no, he doesn't. I guess you could say he's a guest at Leavenworth." Reid kept his eyes on his shoes, hoping the Grahams did not see the red that he knew had crept into his face.
"He's an inmate," Lloyd said, shock evident as his voice rose.
"Yes," was all Reid could bring himself to say.
"Leavenworth," Lloyd continued, "That's maximum security. He must have committed a major offense to wind up there."
"He tried to kill someone," Reid informed Allie's father.
"Attempted murder, but that doesn't usually constitute incarceration at Leavenworth. He must have tried to kill somebody important. Who did he try to kill?"
Reid continued to look at the floor, "Me!"
The silence in the Graham living room was so loud, it was deafening. The family all looked from one to the other. What did you say to someone who just told you his father tried to kill him? Everything that came to mind seemed inadequate. Finally Marion spoke. "That must have been very hard for you dear, how about your Mom, you said she's still in Las Vegas," Marion considered she was moving on to a more comfortable topic.
Reid glanced briefly at the elderly woman. Bless her heart, he thought, she had no way of knowing that this avenue of questioning headed down the same slippery slope as the last. "Yes," Reid decided to get it over with now. If these people were so eager to learn about his family then by God, they would know. "My mother is a patient in a sanitarium in Las Vegas, Bennington Sanitarium. She's been there for the last eight years. She suffers from paranoid schizophrenia and needs around the clock care."
Reid heard the silence once again and saw the looks on the faces of the Graham family. He had seen those looks all his life. People never knew what to say. If you said your mother had cancer or MS or some other disease they would be appropriately sympathetic but they would talk to you about it, but mental illness held such a stigma that no one wanted to broach the subject with you. As a child, he'd seen children cross to the other side of the street to avoid walking in front of their house. He'd seen the looks he got from people, looks that said 'Dude lives with a crazy person'.
The women returned from the kitchen to find the living room in silence, everyone seeming to find the floor interesting. Allie carried a tray with cups, plates, cream and sugar and a large dish of the much anticipated chocolate fudge brownies while Joan carried the coffee pot. Allie stopped dead, looking around the room, "What, what," she put the tray down on the coffee table and sat next to Reid, taking his hand and looking at her family. "What did you all say to him?"
"Boy was just telling us about his parents." Charlie told his granddaughter.
"Well, that's nice," Joan interjected, unaware of the conversation that had played out in her absence, but wondered why everyone looked so sullen.
Allie stood up saying to her father, "You couldn't leave well enough alone, could you. You had to go meddling into his life like it was some cross examination."
"Now just a minute young lady, we just asked about his parents, we didn't know it was off limits. How were we supposed to know his father was in prison and his mother was in a mental institution?" Lloyd stood in front of his irate daughter getting a little hot under the collar himself.
Joan stood, still holding the coffee pot, watching the exchange and trying to remember if she'd ever heard Allie speak to her father like that. Her mouth was gaping open at the revelation about Spencer's parents.
Reid finally stood up, taking Allie's hand. "Allie, it's okay, your Dad's right, they had no way of knowing I had such a dysfunctional family. I don't want you to fight with your father over me." He turned to Joan, "Mrs. Graham, thank you for the thoughtfulness of the coffee but I think it would be better if I left now. I really don't want to cause any dissention in the family. It was nice to meet you all." His look swept to the others in the room. He turned and left the living room and they heard the front door close quietly.
Tears started to cascade down Allie's face and her father reached out to her. She backed away from his touch like she'd been burned. "Don't touch me," she screamed. "I hate you. I hate you all." She turned and ran from the room.
Reid was pacing by the driver's side of the SUV when Allie came out the front door. "I'm so sorry. They should never have treated you that way."
"You have nothing to be sorry for and neither does your family. How were they supposed to react? The reaction to my mother is one I've seen all my life. I guess the reaction about my father is one I'm going to have to get used to. Don't blame your family, it's not their fault my family is so strange." He took her hand and looked her in the eye, "I think you should stay here and I'll stay at the hotel."
"Spencer, no, why would I do that. I want to be with you. I want to sleep with you. I want to wake up with you," she put her hand on his cheek.
"Look, you have to make up with your family and they have to know that I have your best interests at heart. If you come with me your Dad will spend the night pacing the floor wondering if at some point I'll turn into a psychotic murderer. You have to stay with them and talk to them even if it's just for tonight. I don't want to come between you and your family." He clicked the remote and the back of the SUV opened. He removed Allie's bags and put them on the front step, "I'll talk to you in the morning." He kissed her briefly on the lips. She watched as he got in the SUV and drove into the night, tears falling down her cheeks unchecked. She stood there for a long time before eventually collecting her bags and entering her parents' home.