Spencer sat in the driveway for what seemed like forever, debating whether or not to go inside. It seemed ridiculous to him, coming to Hotch's house at, God, was it 2 in the morning already? But he was really desperate.
Sighing heavily, he unbuckled himself and the basket in turn, and hurried to the door. He hesitated a moment, finger poised above the doorbell, before a whimper sounded from inside the basket, effectively startling him into action.
Ringing could be heard through the door, and mid-Clang, the infant in the basket began to wail. Upon hearing the screeching, Spencer nearly dropped the basket. He lifted the screaming child, holding it awkwardly away from his body. As the infant's sobs grew steadily in volume, he began to panic, bouncing him slightly, in hopes that the tears would stop.
He almost didn't hear the click of the door over the baby's cries. He glanced up, noticing Hotch standing there, wearing flannel bottoms, naked from the waist up, looking sleepy and shocked. Spencer held the baby out.
"Help?" He asked, wincing as his voice cracked. He cleared his throat self-consciously, and Hotch sighed, reaching for the hysterical newborn. Some of the sleepiness cleared from his face as he held the baby close to his body and rocked him gently. The yowling diminished slowly, and then stopped altogether as the child drifted off to sleep.
Hotch looked up from the slumbering innocent. Making eye contact with Spencer, he gestured inside. Spencer shuffled uncouthly from one foot to the other, before nodding slightly. Hotch smiled gently before stepping aside to allow Spencer's entrance into his home.
Spencer had been to Hotch's house before, briefly, when Haley died, and he was sad to see it was almost exactly the way it was all those months ago.
"Your jacket and basket can go over on the couch," Hotch whispered, "then follow me,".
Spencer complied, dropping the basket on the seat of the black, leather couch, before following Hotch up stairs, down the hall, and up the stairs again to the attic. Spencer looked around disgustedly; he hated attics. Though, as far as attics went, this one was relatively clean—cluttered and a little dusty, but not moldy or anything.
"Er, Hotch? Why are we in here?" Spencer grimaced as he tripped on a bookcase, watching Hotch move around the space with ease—while holding a baby, to boot.
"Looking for Jack's old baby things. Haley always kept them, in case she ever had another baby, and when she—," here he tooka a steadying breath, "when Foyett... Happened, I couldn't bear to throw them away,".
He stopped in front of a multitude of boxes, a cradle, a folded playpen and changing table, and to the far right, against the wall, the disassembled crib. Hotch turned to Spencer with a slightly amused look.
"Alright, so, you're going to have to hold him while I take the cradle downstairs. Then we can leave him there with a monitor and sift through these boxes for some of the necessities," He said, softly. Spencer began to panic again. His eyes widened.
"What! But what if I drop him? What if I break him? What if he starts crying again!"
Hotch almost laughed at Spencer's apparent fear of babies. He put a warm hand on Spencer's shoulder and he relaxed almost instantly. His gaze softened slightly.
"Here, hold out your hands, I'll show you how to hold him," Hotch gently put the child in Spencer's arms, carefully arranging them just so. He chuckled lightly at the look of sheer terror on Spencer's face.
"Relax, or he'll start crying again. Don't worry about dropping him, just take comfort in him. Hear his breathing, look, he's not dead yet—you're doing fine," He gave Spencer a small smile. He then began sifting through the box labeled "room stuff", coming out with two monitors. Turning them on, he dropped them in the cradle, which he then began to wheel toward the stairs.
Spencer swallowed before following carefully. He picked his way around the odd ends and boxes. When he got downstairs, Hotch was waiting for him. They set off again down the hall, this time at the same pace until Hotch steered the cradle into a room to the right.
"Welcome to the guest bedroom! This is where you'll be staying tonight—er... This morning. After we're done, you can borrow something to sleep in. So vamonos!" Hotch grabbed the monitors, placing one on the table near the cradle, and taking one with him. Spencer gently lay the sleeping child down, before hurrying after Hotch.
As they walked down the hallway, again, Spencer realized that Hotch was much more jovial, one could say insane, when woken up at 2am by a near paedophobic genius with a baby. Speaking like Dora, smiling, he was even chuckling for god's-sake! This was ridiculous! But not unwelcome: he wasn't about to turn down help when Hotch seemed so willing. He cataloged these experiences away for later contemplation.
"D'you mind telling me where the kid came from?" Hotch's voice sounded from beside him. Spencer looked at him, startled by the sudden question, but reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter. Hotch read quickly, his eyebrow raising at the second post-script. He looked up at Spencer, but he just shrugged. "Well, have you at least given any thought to what you'll call him?" Hotch looked at Spencer curiously. He thought about it for a moment.
"Well, Benjamin would make sense. It was a name typically given to boys without mothers, usually ones who died in child birth. Since I know nothing about his family or where he came from, and for the time he'll be staying with me he won't exactly have a mom, so... " Spencer realized he was rambling and cut himself off quickly, snapping his mouth shut. They had by now ascended the stairs to the attic, and were making their way back to the baby things. Once they reached their destination, they each took a box, Hotch grabbing "clothes", while Spencer took "bath". They searched in silence for about an hour, Spencer coming up with an unopened bag of diapers, a baby bath, and six unopened bottles of Johnson baby wash, whereas Hotch had obtained a considerable amount of clothes for newborns. Hotch stood up, groaning as his back popped loudly.
"Alright, it's, god, 3:30 already. I think it's time for bed. Get the diapers and whatever else you've got there, we'll have to change Ben's diaper before we actually sleep. You have to change their diaper pretty frequently, or they'll get a rash," They both went downstairs. After a very awkward diaper change, which included Spencer getting peed on, Hotch laughing hysterically, and Spencer giving him a very rude hand signal, Spencer had changed into a pair of too big, flannel, pijama bottoms and an old F.B.I. t-shirt that was falling off his shoulders. He got into bed in Hotch's guest bedroom at 4:02am, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, wondering how his life had turned out this way.
Well, this is considerably longer than both chapters one and two. This will probably be the last update for a few days, because I have finals on Wednesday and Thursday, and I have 2 projects due Monday, so there won't be much time. But after finals I'll have a 4 day weekend, so I'll hopefully get more updated then. Don't forget to review. :)