A Voice Cries Out

Chapter 23

"How is he?" Aaron Hotchner was checking in on his two youngest agents and their lone, amnesiac, witness, as the others pursued information on the Albrecht clan.

"He's all right. Or, he seems to be. I think it hasn't all hit him yet. He's sort of in that place between treating his dad as a witness, and then remembering that it's actually his father." JJ related, because she was feeling much of the same thing.

Hotch probed more deeply. "And how does he feel about his father, just now?"

"That's the thing, Hotch. William doesn't seem to remember that they're still estranged. He actually apologized for not coming to our wedding."

His brows came together as the unit chief frowned. "I take it Reid's father wasn't invited to the wedding?"

She shook her head. "I would have done it. But Spence wasn't ready. I didn't even bring it up, actually. It was so soon after New Orleans, and…well, I didn't want to do anything to upset him."

Hotch nodded a grim acknowledgement. He was more than familiar with what she'd been feeling. "You were so grateful to have him back, you didn't want to challenge him."

She flashed a brief, sad smile. "I didn't want anything to put a shadow on that time. We'd spent entirely too much of our lives in the dark those days. If it meant not bringing up the subject of his father, I was more than willing to go along with it."

Aaron Hotchner was adept at keeping up a certain level of professionalism in his relationships with those who served under him. It was expected of him, and he recognized the need for some degree of distance among them. But he also realized that they often worked side by side with him, one taking the lead on a certain aspect, another on a different aspect. It was all a give-and-take. As was the case with their relationships.

"It would be understandable if he was still conflicted. I'm sure he's relieved that William will likely recover, but…."

"But that doesn't erase everything that came before. I know. And yet…."

"Yet?"

"It's easier to hate an image than it is to hate a person who's right in front of you. Especially when he's not coming across as an ogre at the moment."

Emotionally, it was all so complex. Reid had hated his father for so long. Yet he'd forgiven him. But not reconciled. He was relieved that the man had survived, but not sure why he was relieved. He was having trouble hating the real, non-threatening human being in the bed, yet troubled that he wasn't hating him, even If that made no sense. It felt disloyal, somehow, to Diana, and to the child Reid had been.

"I think he kind of feels like he's in one of those 'damned if you do, damned if you don't situations," explained JJ.

Having been in exactly that position more times than he wished to count, Hotch understood.

"So, where is he now?"

They'd met in the conference room, but Reid was missing. William was being transferred to a private room, and no visitors were permitted during the transition time.

"He went for a walk. Said he wanted to clear his head."

JJ had recognized the plea for solitude, and respected it. She'd let him go, with only a short word of caution. "Make sure you pay attention to where you are. And look both ways before you cross the street."

The latter had come out as such a reflex statement that they were both taken by surprise. Reid saw JJ's hand go to her mouth in embarrassment, and chuckled.

"Yes, Mom. And, you're right. Sometimes I don't even notice. So, yes, I'll look both ways when I cross the street. If I'm good, can I have some cookies and milk when I get back?"

She laughed. "Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to." Because sometimes you and Henry are so alike. "And I'll see if I can rustle up a treat of some kind for you when you get back."

His hand went under her chin to bring her lips near. When he'd taken advantage, he managed a grin.

"Delayed gratification isn't everything it's cracked up to be."

He was in an unfamiliar part of the city. The University Medical Center was separated from the main university campus, as well as from the casinos. When he started out on his walk, Reid made a conscious effort to empty his mind of enough of the turmoil to allow it to note his surroundings. Even an eidetic memory had its limitations. It couldn't recall information that had never been assimilated.

Some people tended to meander as they worked through problems. Not so Spencer Reid. His mind moved at lightning speed anyway, and his stride kept pace. In truth, he didn't know exactly how he felt. He knew only that he was being bombarded by conflicting thoughts and emotions. He hated his father, yet pitied the man in the hospital bed. He'd created an image of his father as a loner, a misanthrope, yet the man had clearly loved his brother. Reid resented William's abandonment of them, and had yet to reconcile that with the news that his father had kept up a relationship with his mother.

So maybe it was really only me he abandoned. He could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue.

Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was too strange for him, something he couldn't relate to. Maybe, if it hadn't been for me, he would have stayed with Mom. Was it all my fault?

Part of him knew it was the child's voice speaking inside his brain. The immature part of his psyche. He'd worried, from time to time, that his emotional growth had been stifled in his youth, that there were aspects of him that would forever react in childish ways, as though part of him had ceased to develop when his family fell apart. Each time, his brain would present him with a series of images of him lashing out at someone verbally, or making a rash, immature decision. And he would be ashamed.

Becoming a parent had been intimidating. In addition to all the usual fears, Reid had been terrified that his gaps in maturity would surface at just the wrong times, that he would forever mar Henry by making the wrong comment, or the wrong choice. From that, and so much else, JJ had saved him. She'd seen his anxiety, and soothed it.

"No one is the perfect, parent, Spence. Mine weren't yours weren't, we won't be. I guess I'm a couple of years ahead of you in getting used to that. I had to learn to forgive myself, and you'll have to learn to do the same. And, I guess, Henry will have to learn to forgive both of us, someday."

Forgiveness. Forgiving a parent. Was that something everyone had to do? But some sins were small, weren't they? And some were monumental. Inevitably, his mind had wandered back into his own dilemma with his father.

But I did forgive him, didn't I? I know I did. I felt it, I felt the release. Do I have to do it again? Will I have to keep doing it, over and over? Will it never end? What if I can't? What if I can't find it in myself again? Is that my failing? Or his?

He'd walked for blocks, and blocks, and blocks. In the near distance, he could see some of the casino high rises, their neon signs blaring even in full daylight. Feeling a familiar tug on his heart, he turned, and headed back. For a long time now, his only anchor in a sea of self-doubt had been his wife. He headed back to JJ.

"Oh….I thought Dr. Reid would be in here."

JJ turned from gazing out the window. "He's taking a little break. Can I help you? I'm his wife."

A woman roughly JJ's age entered the room, hand extended. "I'm Mr. Reid's nurse, Rosaline. He's settled now, so you can visit him, if you like."

The young profiler hesitated a moment, not sure she should be talking to William without Spence. Not certain how her husband would react. And realizing how strange that uncertainty felt.

Her nurturing side declared victory when JJ smiled and followed Nurse Rosaline down a long hallway to William's new room. She lingered outside the door for a few seconds, fortifying herself, and then knocked softly on the door jamb, and entered.

"Hi. Spence is out for a little walk, so I'm afraid I'll have to do for now. Is that all right?"

William's features seemed to have undergone a significant change in the time it had taken to move him from the ICU. He looked strained, troubled, exhausted. JJ was immediately concerned.

"I'm sorry, Mr….William. We upset you with the news about your brother, didn't we?"

He stared at JJ for a long beat before responding, his eyes scanning her face as though studying it for artifice.

"You…I…..I remember. Talking about Danny, and everything else. It jogged my whole memory. All of it. I remember. You didn't say anything, and neither did Spencer. But I remember."

She wasn't quite sure what he remembered. "You remember?"

"What I did. How I left him. Left them. I remember it. I was never invited to your wedding, was I?"

JJ chewed on her lips while she prayed for the right response. It felt like a crisis point in her family's relationship with her father-in-law. When she finally spoke, it wasn't exactly in answer to his question.

"He's forgiven you. He doesn't understand, but he's chosen to forgive. Spence is a good, good man, William."

The elder Reid's eyes looked away, out the window. "He takes after his mother, then."

An internal debate took place before JJ decided to probe. "He knows about the flowers."

William's eyes flew back to hers. "The flo…how? When?"

"It was a part of the investigation. They looked at the charges on your credit card. Mr. Yazzie showed him receipts, and then Spence went to Bennington and spoke with Dr. Norman. He knows you were sending Diana flowers all that time."

William's eyes went to the window, his vision to the past. "Diana loved flowers. And she wasn't to blame for being ill. How could I not try to give her a little pleasure now and then?"

JJ pulled a chair up to sit more comfortably at her father-in-law's bedside. She expected their conversation might be a long one. She still wasn't sure how her husband would feel about her probing. But she was absolutely certain she needed to ask.

"William….why did you leave them? If you knew your wife was ill, why did you leave her? And why did you leave Spence all alone to care for her?"

Several hours later, JJ closed her phone, now officially worried about her husband. Reid hadn't responded to any of the three texts she'd sent, and her phone calls had all gone directly to voice mail. For a while, she'd been too distracted to notice. She'd begun her effort yesterday evening, but it was only reaching culmination today. Her afternoon had been busy enough to serve as a distraction, but it was now early evening, and there was no sign of the man she loved.

She'd finally decided to try calling him from outside the building, hoping it was just spotty cell service that had gotten between them. Except that doesn't explain why he's been gone so long. Remembering her semi-facetious caution to him this morning, JJ began conjuring images of Spence lying in the street, or on a gurney, a hit-and-run victim of his own lack of focus.

Maybe I should swing by the Emergency Department on the way. She was about to change direction when she spotted a tousled head just beyond a few intervening bodies.

"Spence! Spence!"

The tousled head turned. He spotted his wife and made his way across the lobby to her.

"Hi. Sorry, I see it's getting dark. I guess I was gone longer than I thought."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just…you know."

And then some. But she would tell him later. There was a more pressing matter now.

"Come upstairs with me."

He was immediately concerned. "Is my father all right?"

"He's fine. Well, you know, as fine as he can be. He's settled into his room all right. I just…..I thought you should have something to eat." She tried to sound like she was genuinely concerned about his nutrition.

It wasn't all that far off the mark. Reid hadn't eaten all day.

"I'm still not all that hungry, JJ. Maybe just a little, okay?"

"Whatever you want is fine with me."

They exited the elevator and made their way down the hall. JJ opened the door of the conference room they'd been using, and motioned Reid to go in ahead of her.

"After you."

"All right, brains before beauty." It was an old rag, and it earned him the expected punch on his shoulder. But it was followed by something entirely unexpected.

Reid entered the room anticipating pizza, or a sandwich. What he actually found was nourishment of a completely different sort.

A rain of giggles was followed by an exclamation. "Surprise, Daddy! We're here!"