Here it goes...
Derek fell back on his couch. They're taking him from me. They're taking my Spencer.
He didn't realize when he'd become so attached to the child, but now, the thought of not having him right next to him made Derek feel a physical pain. His heart ached and he felt like he was going to throw up. This must be what all the parents we have to talk to feel like when their kid is taken from them...
He wanted to do something about it. Go to Child Services and scream and argue until they agreed with him and let him keep Spencer, but he couldn't. Legally, they were right. When he agreed to take Spencer in, it was under the assumption that if a living and willing relative was found, custody would change hands. This sucked.
And how was he going to tell Spencer? He'd just now gotten the child to trust him, and only him, mind you, how was Spencer going to react when it came time for Derek to tell him that he couldn't stay anymore? God, the kid was going to be heartbroken. He might never trust anyone again. Well, except his uncle, hopefully. And, who knows, maybe he'll see his mother more with his uncle, and it's sure to be a more stable environment.
With those thoughts, Derek managed to fall asleep, until his blaring alarm woke both him and Spencer the next morning.
He went to Spencer and helped the tired boy up. He was rubbing at his eyes and yawning. He clearly did not want to be up this morning.
"Hey, buddy?" asked Derek.
Spencer looked up at him through sleep clouded eyes. Why was he using that tone? Was something wrong?
"Yeah?" he murmured suspiciously.
"I need to talk to you about something important for a second, alright?" he said softly.
Spencer looked at him and slowly nodded. What could he possibly want to talk about right now? What had happened? No one talked like that unless something was wrong.
"Here, sit down," Derek said, and helped Spencer sit on the bed. "This is really important, so I need you to listen. I'm not really sure how to tell you this, so I guess I'll start at the beginning. Last night, I got a phone call from a woman at the hospital you were at back in Vegas. She said that they've been looking for family members of yours and they found an uncle in Washington." Spencer began to shake. He hoped to God that it didn't mean what he thought it meant. "I'm sorry, Spencer, but you have to go live with him. In about a week."
Spencer started crying. No. No. No! The word was on repeat through his head. He looked up at Derek, trying to see through all the tears in his eyes. "Please, no. I'm sorry. Please don't send me away! I can be good! I promise. I'll be better!" Spencer slid off the couch to his knees in front of Derek and started trying to get his pants undone. Maybe if I make him happy... this always made Sir so happy. I can be good. I'll be good for Derek and I can stay. "I'll be good for you, Derek. I'll do anything you want. I'll-"
"Whoa there, bud!" said Derek loudly, and in shock. He picked Spencer off his knees and sat on the bed, balancing Spencer on his lap. Spencer dug his head into Derek's shoulder and continued crying.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I can be good. I'll be good for you Derek, I promise. Whatever you want, just don't send me away please!" Spencer kept sobbing into Derek's shoulder, saying anything that he thought might make Derek let him stay. He didn't want to be sent away.
"There, there, bud. It'll be okay. I promise. It's not about you being good or bad. If were up to me, you could stay with me as long as you like, but they've been looking to see if you have any family and they want you to stay with them, all right? I know it sucks, it really does, but there's not anything either of us can do about it. I'm sorry. You've done nothing wrong. You're a very good person, you know that, Spencer? Very good. That's got nothing to do with this at all," Derek tried to reassure the distraught boy.
Spencer looked up Derek. "Really?" he asked.
"Yes, really," Derek said with a smile, and ruffled Spencer's long hair. Hm, maybe they should get him a haircut before he moved...
Spencer sniffled again and dug his head back into the crook of Derek's shoulder. Well, maybe I should've waited until tonight for this... probably am gonna have to take off of work. Hotch'll understand.
Spencer and Derek spent the morning sitting around and not really doing anything, until around noon when they decided (well, Morgan decided) that it was time to get lunch. While they were eating, Derek asked Spencer if he would like getting his haircut.
Spencer nodded up and down vigorously. He hated having long hair and was ready for it all to be gone.
"Okay then," Derek said kindly, "I'm taking off work today. We can get it done. I think there's a pretty good barber down the road. That sound good?"
Spencer nodded again.
Derek smiled real big at him, then patted his leg, loving like, not anything like Sir had when he touched his leg, and walked pulled out his cell phone.
"I'm just gonna call Hotch real quick and see if I need an appointment to get you into the barber's shop."
Spencer nodded again, and watched as Derek rounded the corner of his house and went to make the call in private.
Derek opened his flip phone and held down the "1" button, until the words "Calling Hotch" appeared above a picture he'd gotten Prentiss to take and Garcia to photoshop of Hotch when he wasn't looking. He held the device to his ear, and it stopped ringing almost immediately.
"Hotchner."
"Hey, Hotch. It's me, Morgan," said Derek. Stupid he berated himself. He has Caller-ID... he knows who you are! Morgan had never quite got the hang of how to start non-case related calls. On a case, you were efficient and there was no time for introductions and fluffy crap... well, unless it was with Garcia, but that's a special case.
"Is anything the matter?" asked Hotch, letting his concern he had for the team sink into his voice. Hotch really was an extremely caring man and boss, although he only let a few people see it.
"Um, actually, yeah. Kinda," replied Morgan.
"What is it?" Morgan could practically see his unit chief leaning up from his desk and abandoning everything, almost as if he'd had someone walk in the door right then and was talking face-to-face.
"It's about Spencer. I, uh, got a call last night from the hospital he was in, and, um, the lady said they'd found an uncle for him to stay with." Damn! Thought Morgan. Why am I stuttering and messing up so much? I never sound like this!
"I thought it was almost positive that he had no living relatives," Hotch said, almost monotonously.
"Yeah, well, they found one. There's nothing really I can do about it, but God," Morgan sighed and ran a hand over his bald head in frustration, "it's just... I don't know. Messin' me up."
"I can imagine. Kids have a way of... growing on a person quickly. More quickly than seems possible, but the second you have a child, your own or not, there's a connection. It'd be like losing Jack..."
Hotch trailed off, in an unusual show of sentimentality and genuine emotion.
"Yeah, I suppose so..." Derek agreed. "Anyways, I was calling to ask for the day off."
"Of course!" said Hotch. "Take as much as you need. That goes without saying. When is he supposed to be leaving?"
"One week." Derek felt the bitterness rise in his tone, unwelcome.
"Then take the week off. Be with him. It can't be easy for Spencer either.
"Well, I'll let you go now. Need to make a few other calls," said Derek.
"Sure. Bye," said Hotch, and then there was the dial tone. That was the good thing about talking to Hotch. He didn't fill space with fluff and sentimental shit. He said what was needed and was done with it.
After he was finished with the call to Hotch, he found the number for his barber and scheduled Spencer an appointment, explaining his special needs to the barber. Morgan hated that phrase. Special Needs. It wasn't like Spencer was retarded or slow, on the contrary he was extremely bright, but he still had to use that phrase, which was usually associated with mentally disabled people, because some bastard of a pervert decided that he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Fuck it, Derek decided I'm going to go out and have a good day with Spencer and enjoy our week together!
Spencer was going to get his hair cut at noon, so Derek went ahead and cooked the two of them breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and juice. Spencer ate the pancakes and bacon. Derek ate eggs and bacon. He wasn't a pancake person. Too sweet.
They enjoyed their breakfast then just spent the morning goofing off and watching Spongebob reruns, until it was time to go.
The place was right up the street from where Derek lived and took very little time to drive to, so Derek took that chance to talk to Spencer and try and make sure he would be okay with a stranger cutting his hair. Coming near him with a blade.
"Spencer?" he asked gently.
"Yes, Derek?" he responded, more politely than most seven-year-olds were capable of.
"Can I talk to you about the barber?" he asked again, trying to make sure it was phrased as a question so it sounded gentler.
Spencer bit his lip and nodded.
"His name is Mr. Winston Stark, although you can just call him Winnie. He's about eighty years old and couldn't hurt a fly if he wanted to. And even if he did, I could take him and will be standing right there next to you the whole time. I'm just telling you this, so you don't get scared, alright?"
Spencer nodded again, and turned to look out the window. Derek sighed and soon enough they arrived at a brick building in a plaza with a red and white striped pole in front of it. A classic barber shop.
They walked through the doors and a bell rang. Everyone turned towards them, then back towards what they were doing, except for Mr. Stark. He greeted Derek happily and joked with Spencer for a second, crouching down to appear even less intimidating than his grey hair, blue eyes, permanent smile, and laugh lines made him look.
He led Spencer to a chair, and Derek held his hand the whole time. Mr. Stark only used scissors, knowing that Spencer would freak out if a razor touched his head, and finished quickly.
Spencer's hair was cut in a style befitting a little boy, with bangs just above his eyebrows and hair that stopped above his ears and only came to the bottom of head, as opposed to below his collar and almost touching his shoulder, as it was prior to this trip.
Spencer saw it and smiled. He ran his hand through it to feel the clean softness of his new hair. He hadn't had his hair cut in almost three years. His mother hadn't taken him to get one because she was sick and Sir liked his hair real long. Spencer liked this style though. It was nice. He looked back at Morgan and made sure he could see his smile. He might not be able to say thanks, but maybe this would be enough...
Morgan's heart sang when he saw Spencer wearing his wide smile. He'd been tense while he was getting it cut, but it wasn't too bad. He tended to be a good judge of character, as are many children. They walked out to Morgan's car and went to grab lunch, and Morgan swore to himself that Spencer and he would have an amazing week together...
The week, well, actually 8 days, went by way too quickly for Morgan. They went out together and saw a couple movies. Derek took Spencer toy shopping and ate out when they decided a restaurant would be good and ate in when Derek was up for making a home cooked meal.
Spencer proved as smart as Garcia said he was, but Derek wasn't able to ever get him tested. They didn't have time, but Derek decided that was something he should do when he got to Washington anyways. If that's where he was going to go to school, it would be less trouble to just find out where he lay intelligence wise there. Derek felt a pang in his chest that he quickly pushed away when he realized he couldn't see Spencer start school. Surely this Uncle John wouldn't be opposed to Derek occasionally visiting...
And finally, the day for Spencer to leave came, and both boys were freaking out.
"Spencer," said Derek. "Spencer!"
"Hm," said Spencer, his leg bouncing uncontrollably and involuntarily.
"You okay?" asked Derek, who was getting nervous. Partially from the move and partially from Spencer's reaction. Eventually, he just crushed one of his anti-anxiety pills that the doctor prescribed and dropped it in his drink. Spencer seemed to calm after that.
"Come on, bud. We're gonna miss our flight," encouraged Derek. He grabbed a couple of Spencer's suitcases and Spencer started pulling a small rolling one.
They hopped in Derek's car and got to the airport. Spencer about had a panic attack at security, when they insisted on scanning everything thoroughly, but he made it through okay at the end. Probably thanks to the pill Derek had snuck him.
At the gates, they met Spencer's case worker, an overly cheerful blonde woman named Sherri that reminded Derek of morning show host.
The three boarded the plane and took what felt like the longest plane ride ever to Derek before they finally touched down in Washington.
Sherri informed Derek that John Reid knew about Spencer's case already was extremely sympathetic, so Derek didn't need to go through any of that while they walked through the airport, looking for John.
Eventually, they found him. He looked to be around forty, with dark hair just starting to turn grey and the beginnings of a bear belly. Morgan immediately turned on his profiler mode and started watching for any signs of not being completely and totally devoted to Spencer's well-being.
"Hello, there," he said when they approached him, and crouched down to a child size. Derek was impressed he could that with his gut. "You must be Spencer. I've heard so many things about you. I'm sure we'll be great friends." He wore a large smile and spoke in that tone that people used when speaking to small children that was supposed be sweet, but eventually got annoying. Well, at least he was trying. Derek had to give him points for that.
Spencer buried his head into Derek's side and wrapped his arms around Derek's middle.
Sherri looked up at John and smiled, trying to be reassuring. Derek was immediately reminded of a used car salesman. "He's a bit shy. Aren't you, Spencer?" she said, changing her tone and looking down at Spencer during that last part. Spencer just clutched Derek more tightly.
Sherri looked at her watch and exclaimed, "Oh my! Look at that. We're on a schedule and I've got places to go. Okay, Spencer. Say bye to Derek before his flight leaves."
Spencer forced himself away from Derek, knowing that Derek wanted him to do this. He had to be brave.
"Bye, Derek," he whispered, trying to not let the moisture he felt building in his eyes fall.
"Bye, buddy. I can visit if we ever come up here for a case, alright?"
Spencer nodded and tried to smile, before giving Derek one more big hug. Sherri cleared her throat and they eventually pulled apart.
"Well, bye, then," said Derek and reluctantly started backing away.
"Come on, Spencer," said Uncle John, "let's go." He grabbed Spencer's small hand and led him out of the airport while Spencer tried to keep himself from pulling his hand away.
Derek just watched him leave.
Spencer and John walked outside and found where John had parked his car, managing to get pretty close to the building. He drove a four door sedan of sort, implying he made okay money. Upper-middle class, Spencer guessed.
Spencer hopped in the front seat and pulled his legs up to his body.
He jumped when he felt a light stinging slap to his leg. "Feet off the seat."
Spencer felt tears run down his face. The slap hadn't been that hard (too hard to simply be a gesture to tell his to move his feet) but it was shocking.
"I've got a couple rules and expectations," said Uncle John, "that I expect to be followed. Do that, and we'll get on fine. You'll figure out the rules. They're not too complicated."
Spencer nodded and wiped his nose on his sleeve.
They drove for a good hour, before arriving at Uncle John's two story suburban house and pulled in. Uncle John made Spencer some ramen noodles and told Spencer that he'd need to figure out how to do that himself. It wouldn't be hard. He'd done it for his mom and him for a long time before any of this mess happened.
He tried to cross paths as little as possible with his Uncle and stay quiet.
He managed pretty well, although he was bored out of his mind, until dinner. He made himself some more of the noodles, and then was going back upstairs to quietly entertain himself.
"Come here, Spencer," said Uncle John in his gruff voice. Spencer turned with one foot on the first stair and the other on the ground. He turned back and looked at Uncle John with a question in his eyes.
"Well, don't be shy. Come 'ere," he said again, and gestured.
Spencer sighed and walked over to the couch, where John was watching football and drinking a Budd Light. He stood awkwardly by the couch, biting his lip while considering rather or not to sit. The decision was made when he was pulled onto his uncle's lap.
Spencer stiffened and wanted to scream. No one could touch him. If they touched him, he would freak out. He didn't want to feel those hands again. Not ever again...
And there they were. Spidery, crawly hands moving across his body. He squinted his eyes closed and tried to relax, but they were still there, exploring his lap, almost innocently.
Except the hands he remembered could never be called innocent, even if it was a messed up and warped almost innocent.
"Please, no. Don't," Spencer unconsciously begged, salty tears running down his face.
"S'Okay, boy," a gruff voice said next to him. He felt a scraggly chin against his face. "Gonna be good."
Spencer choked on a sob when he realized he wasn't caught in a memory, and life with Uncle John was going to be anything but 'okay', like everyone had promised. That sentiment was exemplified when he was led up to Uncle John's room that night to be informed that they were sharing. That's when Spencer Reid decided, rather consciously or not, that people were liars and he was done talking to them. Another word would never leave his mouth.
So, um... yeahhhh. Don't hate me too much please?