AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yay, a new chapter! Morning Gift will be the one WIP I update as I write. I'm super proud of the other WIPs that I'm taking my time on to write more chapters at a time before posting but I'm taking longer than I'd like and I don't wanna leave y'all waiting indefinitely for MG. So since I'd been posting as I go with it, I'm just gonna continue along that trend with this one. I hope the slightly longer chapter makes up for the wait.
Still not fond of the title now that it's more than the one-shot I thought it would be but I still have no other ideas for one, haha.
The warm bath and a full belly lulled Michaela back to sleep. Once the three of them were dry, dressed, and with Michaela tucked into her bassinet, Spencer and Derek quietly made their way through the house to find Fran. They found her in the kitchen at the stove. A gentle sizzling filled the kitchen and when she turned to greet them, they noticed a pan on the stove and a teaspoon in her hand.
"Everything alright again?" she asked with a warm smile as the two settled at the island.
Spencer nodded, giving her a small smile. "Yes. She is fed and asleep again. Thank you for the suggestion."
Fran waved a dismissive hand, spoon still in hand, and turned back to the pan, using her spoon to push around its contents. "I'm glad you're okay again."
"What are you making, Mama?" Derek asked, attempting to peer into the pan from where he sat.
"Well, no one but Michaela has had breakfast. I thought I'd make some scrambled eggs," she explained as she pulled the pan from the hot burner. Moving seamlessly through the kitchen, she pulled plates out of a cupboard and silverware from a drawer, placing them on the island in front of her boys.
The three ate in silence for several minutes before Spencer finally had the courage to speak up.
"Fran," he said quietly, pushing his hair back behind his ears as he met her eyes. "Derek and I wanted to talk to you about something."
Fran nodded in encouragement but didn't say anything, letting Spencer say what he needed to.
"Derek told me you offered to move here," Spencer continued. He began pushing the remainder of his eggs around with his fork, suddenly not as hungry. "You'd look after Michaela if we wanted to keep our jobs?"
Fran nodded, setting her own plate aside. She didn't rise to begin cleaning while they talked, fearing any change would break Spencer's confidence to discuss something important with her.
"Would you..." He sighed and pushed his plate away, the uneasiness rolling in his stomach chasing away his appetite. He was a trained FBI agent and he suddenly felt anxious speaking to a woman that was practically family! "Would you consider moving to be near us even if we quit the BAU? I think that's what we're going to do and it would make the both of us feel safer knowing you were the one looking after Michaela. We just..." He sighed and began fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt, gaze focused on the counter between them. He felt Derek place an encouraging hand between his shoulder blades. "I'm afraid something would happen to one or both of us on the job and I can't orphan Michaela like that..."
Fran was silent for a moment and Spencer feared she'd say no, that her offer was only if they went back to work. But she reached across the island and gently gripped both of his hands in hers.
"Spencer," she said, voice pitched low in a soothing tone. "Firstly, yes, I would move to Virginia to help no matter what you chose to do. Michaela is my first grandbaby and I want to be around to spoil her. But," she added, her tone a little firmer to convey the serious nature of what she was about to say. She didn't miss the way he winced at the tone and gently gave his hands a reassuring squeeze. "Spencer. If I'm being honest, I think you're rushing making this decision. Michaela is only a few days old. I fear you're making your decision based on the emotions you're feeling rather than with the logic I know you can. Right now, it would do you good to not worry about work and just focus on yourselves and Michaela. But if you must make your decision now – and I hope that you will wait before you do – yes, I want to come live here and help no matter what you choose to do."
Spencer finally lifted his gaze to meet Fran's and tugged a hand from hers to wipe at his eyes. "You will no matter what?"
She nodded and gently took his hand once he'd dropped it again. "But I want you to think long and hard about your decision. Both of you," she added, giving her son a stern glare. "This is a big decision and Spencer's emotions aren't balanced out just yet. I don't want you to regret your decision because it was made out of emotion rather than logic. You've got plenty of time to decide and it doesn't have to be decided before going back. Honestly, I think it would be a good idea if you two worked a couple of weeks or more to see how things worked out with the jobs you have. I'll gladly stay here to look after Michaela; even if you get a case that takes you out of state for several days."
Spencer stared at his hands still clasped in Fran's then glanced at Derek to gauge his reaction. His boyfriend seemed to be mulling the idea over as well. He could tell by the calm expression on the older man's face, Derek seemed to be agreeing with the idea. Spencer couldn't shake the fear of something happening to either of them and leaving Michaela without her parents though. But no matter how badly he wanted to quit to find a safer job, he couldn't deny the pang of sadness that stabbed at his heart at the thought of not working with his team anymore. He realized this was a harder decision than he'd thought and Fran was right in making them take the time to let things settle and to properly think about it.
"Alright," he agreed, nodding. "That sounds fair."
"Good," Fran said, giving Spencer's hands a reassuring squeeze before letting go to stand and begin cleaning up the breakfast dishes. "I'm going to do a bit of shopping for you today. I should only be gone a couple of hours. Then maybe if you're feeling up to it later, you two can get out of the house as well. Maybe go do some shopping to finish personalizing the nursery."
~oOoOo~
The next several days passed in much the same fashion. Fran took care of her boys and her granddaughter while Derek and Spencer were allowed the time to bond with their baby. Spencer even worked out his frustration with pumping and tried it several more times in the following days. He managed to fill a few smaller bottles to be used at night which Derek readily agreed with. He reveled in the pure rightness of having his daughter in his arms and feeding her, knowing his boyfriend was getting the rest he very much needed.
Michaela's bassinet was moved out of the guest room and back into the master bedroom though. That was one thing Spencer was not willing to give in on. He would pump to allow Derek to feed her in the night but he could not shake the uneasiness he felt when his daughter was not right there. And with Fran helping out so much during the day, it felt wrong to make her wake up with the baby each night no matter how much she assured them she didn't mind it.
As the week passed, Spencer found himself looking forward to feeling like himself more and more. But as the days went by and one week turned into a week and a half since he'd given birth, he didn't feel like he used to. In fact, he began feeling the opposite of himself.
Before Michaela was born, he could pluck facts from thin air, recalling things he'd read in a book he hadn't touched in years. Now, he found he'd walk into a room then promptly forget what it was he needed in that room to begin with. He used to be able to read a book in no time but one afternoon when Michaela was napping, he had tried settling down to read but couldn't focus. It took him several minutes to realize he'd reread the same paragraph ten times and couldn't recall what it said.
Anger had coiled in the pit of his stomach at his inability to focus and he'd tossed the book onto the coffee table with far less car than he had ever shown his books. Derek, who had been watching television in the adjacent chair, gave him a curious look and Spencer had felt his anger shift toward his boyfriend. Why could Derek do what he liked to do with no trouble focusing?! Why was Spencer the one on an emotional roller coaster just because he had been the one to give birth?! It wasn't fair!
He'd snapped at Derek to "stop looking at me like that" which had earned a soft, concerned "pretty boy?" and that had just grated on Spencer's nerves. He fled to the nursery but at soon as he was surrounded by the familiar scent of his baby, his anger melted away, leaving a hollow void in his chest. Curling himself into the glider, he tugged his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his knees as sobs overwhelmed him. The deep, penetrating sadness he felt in his chest prevented him from even being annoyed at crying again.
As Spencer cried into his knees, he felt confusion and fear prodding at the edges of his mind. Wasn't he supposed to be getting better? He was supposed to be feeling more like himself. Why did it feel like he was getting worse? What if this was who he was now? No longer the bright mind he used to be but an emotional mess that felt lost in a fog.
The fear that who Spencer used to be was lost to him forever quickly morphed into anxiety. He couldn't bear the thought of not being himself again. Sure, there were things about himself he wished were different but in general, he loved who he was and loved how his life had turned out now. He had a job he liked doing and was good at, he had a boyfriend he loved more than he'd been able to love anyone before and who loved him in return, and now he had a baby girl that he couldn't imagine his life without no matter if he hadn't known she existed two weeks ago.
The anxiety that he was never going to get better tied his stomach into knots and he shoved his hands between his thighs and his abdomen to wrap around his middle. But he would get better, wouldn't he? He had to. Babies were born every day and if everyone who'd given birth spiraled so out of control, chaos would erupt. This was just what being a new parent was like. Things would settle down again. Especially once Michaela slept through the night and Spencer could get more sleep, too. He was only emotional because he was tired.
When the crying stopped, Spencer was left with a headache, stinging eyes, and a weariness that made him want to curl up in bed for several hours. Slowly uncurling himself and rising from the glider, he wiped at his eyes. He felt a little better than when he'd first shut himself away in the nursery but didn't feel up to sitting with Derek and Fran again. Derek would watch him and even though Spencer knew it was only because his boyfriend would be worried, the thought of being stared at like he was going to fall apart any second grated on his nerves.
Maybe now was a good time to write that letter to his mother to explain that she had a granddaughter.
Spencer quietly made his way down the hall back to the master bedroom. Careful not to wake the baby, he pulled open the drawer to his nightstand and collected the stationary he used for letters to his mother. He made himself comfortable in the center of the bed and closed his eyes for moment, just listening to the reassuring sound of his baby's gentle breathing.
Later, when Derek was sure enough time had passed that Spencer wouldn't be angry anymore, he went in search of his boyfriend, finding him in their room. Spencer was lying across the middle of their bed facing Michaela's bassinet, asleep. His stationary was scattered across the bedspread, a pen still loosely held in one hand. Derek noticed a few sheets stacked together, the top filled with Spencer's handwriting. Picking them up, he thumbed through them and was pleased to see Spencer had written a letter to his mom. He smiled, hoping Spencer's chance to write his mom a letter had eased some of the emotional distress his boyfriend had been in for the last several days.
Derek carefully set the pages on the nightstand then collected the blank papers and put them back in the drawer. He eased the pen from Spencer's hand and set it aside as well then sat on the edge of the bed and lightly ran his hand up and down Spencer's thigh. He watched the gentle rise and fall of the smaller man's chest for a few beats then diverted his gaze to Spencer's sleeping face, relaxed with sleep.
This was his boyfriend. Peaceful. Not the pure anger that had been hurled at him earlier in the living room. In the time since Michaela's birth, Derek had watched Spencer battle emotions he wasn't used to showing. But he had never seen a flare of anger that intense come from Spencer before and if Derek were being honest with himself, it frightened him a little bit. Because Spencer wasn't an angry man. Yes, he got angry at things but never to the point of snapping at Derek like that.
His mama had assured them that Spencer's emotions would balance out again after a week or two, that Spencer wanting to cry more often and getting a little snippier was normal. But Spencer seemed to be getting worse. Anger hadn't been one of his strongest emotions; it was always the sadness and crying that the younger man had been battling most. Yet Derek had found himself the target of pure rage earlier in the living room. He hadn't done anything but ask if Spencer was okay because his boyfriend and thrown his book – something Spencer never did.
Derek trusted his mother, of course. But he also knew his boyfriend like no one else did. Despite his mother's reassurances, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was really off with Spencer. But what could he do? He wasn't sure what it could be and for all he knew, his mother was right all along and Spencer's emotions would settle again. Feeling uneasy, he decided he'd wait a few more days. If the two week mark came and went and Spencer was still not himself, Derek would do something about it.
Spencer shifting on the bed pulled Derek from his thoughts and when he refocused on the man lying in front of him, he was met with sleepy brown eyes. His hand stilled on Spencer's thigh but he didn't pull it away, and he offered a calm smile.
"Hey, sleepy," he whispered.
Spencer pressed his fingertips into his eyes then scrubbed his hand down his face before blinking at his boyfriend again. "Hey," he whispered then pushed himself up to sit beside Derek. "I'm sorry for getting angry," he mumbled, staring down at his hands. His hair fell forward but he made no move to fix it, letting it hide his face from Derek.
"It's okay," Derek assured, brushing Spencer's hair back behind his ear the way he liked it. "I've been expecting reactions that aren't like you and I knew you didn't mean it. I was more worried about you than you being angry at me."
Derek's fingertips skimmed down Spencer's cheek and the smaller man shivered at the touch, lifting his hand to clasp around Derek's. He held it between both of his in his lap, running his fingers over Derek's own fingers and palm; the older man let him fiddle with his hand. When Spencer finally spoke, he kept his eyes on their joined hands.
"I'm scared," he admitted. "That anger wasn't me. I mean" - he paused to dart his tongue out to wet his lips before continuing - "I was frustrated that I couldn't focuson my book but the way it just seemed to evolve into such an anger that consume me and the intensity of it aren't like me. And I know you were only asking if I was okay out of concern but it suddenly felt oppressive and the sound of your voice – which I usually love – just grated on my senses." He finally lifted his gaze to meet Derek's. "I really am sorry, Derek."
"I know, Spencer," Derek assured, letting his fingertips trail down Spencer's jaw and back around his neck to gently draw him closer. When Spencer willingly wiggled closer and leaned his head against Derek's chest, he wrapped his arms securely around his boyfriend and began rubbing his hands up and down Spencer's spine with firm touches. "I see you wrote a letter to your mom. Did that help you?"
Spencer nodded against Derek's chest. "Yes. I still wish I could see her but at least this way, she'll know she's a grandmother. And I told her about some things that worry me, too. I'm hoping she'll have some advice."
Derek nodded against Spencer's temple. "That's a good idea."
For a moment, sitting there with Spencer in his arms, calm and quiet, Derek wondered if maybe he'd been worried for nothing. Spencer was going to be alright. He had Derek and Fran and he could always write to his mother anything he wasn't ready to share with Derek. He had the support he needed to help himself feel better and everything would calm down as they settled into a routine with Michaela.
~oOoOo~
The two week marker came and went and the three had found a routine with Michaela. Things felt calmer around the house even if Spencer still felt out of control inside. He hadn't felt the anger that scared him in the last few days which made him feel both relieved and worried that it would happen again. Now, he felt a little more like himself aside from bouts of depression that would overwhelm him. He was afraid to tell Derek or Fran that he still felt that way sometimes when he was supposed to be better by now.
He also found himself feeling anxious over everything. Every time he was alone with Michaela even though he knew the others were just in the next room, he found himself worrying. What if something happened to her while he was alone with her? What if she just stopped breathing and Derek blamed him? What if he dropped her because he couldn't stop shaking?
The development of this new terrifying feeling scared him into silence as well. If he told the other two that he was feeling something new that was out of the norm for him, surely they'd think something was wrong with him. What if they decided he couldn't be a parent? Logically, he knew Derek would never take their daughter from him, but it still scared him that he'd lose his baby if he told them how he felt.
Then it became too much for Spencer to handle.
That morning and afternoon had passed like every other day had and Spencer found himself feeling more like himself than he had in the last couple weeks. In hindsight, he realized this was the calm before the proverbial storm.
Fran had taken over most of the cooking for the two of them though Derek would help when he could, not wanting her to have to do everything for them. That was how, that Saturday afternoon, he'd volunteered to join his mother grocery shopping. She'd told him he didn't have to, that she didn't mind, but he insisted he go along to help her at least this once.
Afraid to show weakness, Spencer had put on a brave face as he assured them he'd be fine, assuring himself they'd only be gone a couple of hours. He'd forced a small smile and promised Derek he'd call if he needed him to come home for anything; a promise he knew he wouldn't keep.
He had been fine for the first half an hour. Then, later into the afternoon, Michaela had woken crying. As he made his way into the bedroom to check on her, Spencer told himself he could handle being alone with her. She'd just need a new diaper or to be fed and then she'd want to be held for a little while until she fell asleep again. He could do this.
"Hey," he cooed as he gently lifted her into his arms and rocking her. "Hey, it's okay. Da-" He hesitated, the word "daddy" caught in his throat, realizing he and Derek never discussed what their daughter would call each of them. "I've got you," he said instead, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
He continued to murmur soothing nonsense in an attempt to calm her as he took her into the nursery. A quick diaper check and change later, he was settling into the glider with her, using the pillow to help hold her up. He removed her onesie and his shirt and used her blanket to cover her as she rested against his bare chest.
Relief settled over him when she immediately began to suck. He could do this; he could handle a few hours while Derek was out. He wasn't a bad parent.
Then she pushed at his chest and let go to resume wailing once more and any relief he felt turned to stone in the pit of his stomach.
"Come one, Michaela," he cooed, gently guiding her back toward his chest. She had seemed so hungry at first and couldn't be full that quickly. All he had to do was calm her and she'd finish and then everything be okay again.
Just as he'd thought, she frantically latched on and sucked hungrily for a few seconds. Then she pulled away and began screaming again.
Spence caught his lower lip between his teeth in worry as he carefully shifted her up to his shoulder to rub and pat her back. She didn't need to burp but she did calm a little. He kept at it until she was down to whimpering then carefully shifted her back against his chest to try to feed her again. As before, she latched and sucked for a few seconds then pulled away. She scrunched her nose and began to wail.
Spencer couldn't stop the small whine of frustration at that as he carefully stood with her and redressed her and himself. Once he had her cradled in his arms once more, he began to pace with her, gently rocking and bouncing her.
"What's wrong, Michaela?" he cooed though it came out more like a whine. She wouldn't stop crying and he was out of ideas and Derek wasn't back yet!
Of course, the baby didn't answer him. She continued to wail, balling her fists up and scrunching her eyes. Her little feet kicked out and then she curled them up toward herself. She stopped crying long enough to hold her breath for a few seconds then continued to wail.
This odd behavior didn't help Spencer at all. Normally, he could think things through and he'd find the solution. On cases, time was usually against them, making them all worry and causing stress but he always found the solution they needed. He could always focus. But not when it was his own daughter that was suffering. He found that his worry and inability to easily soothe her overwhelmed him.
What if she knew how bad a parent he was? What if she was suffering some way he couldn't fix because he couldn't think in order to help her?
He felt tears fill his eyes and a sob catch in his throat as he continued to pace with her. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's upsetting you and I can't fix it. Your grandmother will be back soon, okay? She'll know and it'll be all better."
Except that feeling just made it all worse. Of course Fran would know. Fran always knew what to do with the baby. Spencer didn't know anything. Everything he knew about all sorts of useless subjects and nothing could help his own baby! If he were on a case, he'd easily figure this out but he wasn't. He was at home with his screaming daughter and he didn't know what to do!
Unable to figure out what to do and feeling restless and anxious just pacing in the nursery, Spencer moved through the house with her. As they moved from room to room, he rocked her and tried to soothe her with hushed nonsense but his voice seemed to do little for her. The longer she cried, the more anxious he became and after several circuits through the living room and kitchen, he felt tears fill his eyes and slip down his face.
"Please stop crying," he whined, taking a deep breath that hitched a little bit. "I don't know what you need and I'm sorry. Just please stop crying, Michaela."
As he reentered the living room, he noticed the time on the clock. Michaela had been crying for almost two hours by now! And where were Derek and Fran?! He needed help! Clearly he wasn't a good parent because his baby had been crying for two hours and he couldn't do anything about it!
Sniffling and whining in frustrated helplessness, Spencer frantically searched the room for his phone. He finally found it on the kitchen counter where he'd left it charging and quickly scrolled through his contacts. He'd promised Derek he'd call if he needed help and he hadn't intended to fulfill that promise, wanting to prove that he could take care of the baby himself. But as Michaela's screaming continued and his breaths came out in sobs more often than not, he decided he needed help from someone.
Passing by Derek's name for now, he scrolled down until he got to Hotch's name. The team had returned from their last case the night before and were likely in the office now. He knew if he asked, Hotch would come help him. But the idea of taking his boss away from work for him made him feel more like a burden. And what if Hotch judged him for not knowing how to help his own daughter?
When Jack was a baby, he could hear Hotch hissing in his head, he was always peaceful and we never had any trouble with him. You must be doing something wrong! You're a terrible parent, Reid!
He whimpered at the thought and quickly shoved his phone away. The tears slid down his cheeks and he let the sobs come.
"I'm so sorry, Michaela. I don't know what you want and I'm so sorry," he whimpered.
As he made his way back into the living room, sobbing and rocking Michaela in a desperate attempt to calm her, the front door pushed open. He immediately froze, turning a desperately hopeful gaze toward the door. Relief flooded him so quickly he almost felt dizzy when he saw his boyfriend entering the house. The older man immediately dropped the grocery bags he'd been carrying near the couch and moved to wrap his arms around his boyfriend and daughter. Fran was right behind him with her own bags, eyeing the crying pair with worry.
"Derek," Spencer whimpered, feeling more tears slide down his cheeks. "Help… Please. She's been crying for almost two and half hours and I already changed her and I tried feeding her but she wouldn't eat and I don't know what else to do!"
"Hey, hey, Spencer, calm down," he soothed, brushing his thumb across one of Spencer's to brush away tears that were immediately replaced with more. "We'll figure this out. But she needs you to calm down, too, okay?"
Spencer nodded and sniffled, focusing on Derek's strong, calming presence. "I-I know. Okay." He sniffled again then took a deep breath, lifting a hand to wipe at his face. "What do we do? I don't know what's bothering her…"
"You said you changed her and you tried feeding her but she wouldn't?" Derek clarified.
"Yes. She latched and would suck then pull away to continue crying," he explained.
"Let me hold her," Derek offered, gently taking their daughter from Spencer's arms and rocking her. He noticed her curl her legs up and hold her breath, squinting, before resuming her wailing.
"She did that earlier, too," Spencer pointed out when he saw her doing it. "I don't know what it means."
Fran, who had taken the groceries into the kitchen while she let the two figure things out for themselves, paused to watch as Michaela curled up again. She had an idea of what could be bothering the baby and was slightly surprised that Spencer hadn't figured it out. But before she could offer her suggestion, her son beat her to it.
"I think her stomach may be upset," Derek said, watching her kick her feet out only to curl them back up again. And then he realized he knew exactly what to do. The tummy that was hurting may be smaller, but he realized he knew how to soothe it. He gently pressed his fingers into his daughter's lower abdomen and began rubbing in circles, applying gentle pressure.
Spencer's eyes widened as he watched his daughter calming down, her wailing turning into hitching, unsure sobs, caught between wanting to continue crying and relief. As Derek continued to rub, her legs slowly uncurled and her fists loosened.
"She'll be okay," Spencer breathed in relief. He still felt like an inadequate parent because he'd let her suffer for three hours but at least she was okay again.
"Spencer," Derek said softly. "Why don't you go lie down? You're probably stressed after spending three hours with a screaming baby. I've got her for a while," he assured.
Spencer hesitated, feeling like he didn't deserve that because he hadn't helped anything. Derek had done it all. But he realized how exhausted he felt and he could feel the beginnings of a headache forming.
Rubbing at his temples, he nodded. "Yeah, okay." He offered Derek a small smile then made his way to their room.
Once he was cocooned under their blankets in the darkened room, he felt tears sliding down his cheeks. He'd let his baby girl suffer for three hours because he couldn't do anything about it. Then Derek had waltzed in and fixed it. Derek was a better parent than he was, clearly. Spencer didn't deserve to be a parent. If he'd just been more careful, he wouldn't have gotten pregnant to begin with.
And that thought sent more tears spilling down his face as his heart throbbed because what kind of parent thought like that?! His daughter meant everything to him and he'd never want harm to come to her. The idea that he'd think things would be simpler if she'd never been born scared him more than any of the other abnormal thoughts he'd been having.
Spencer curled up tighter and shoved his face into his pillow as he sobbed harder, terrified of what was happening to him and positive that he couldn't tell anyone about the thoughts in his head.