vita non est vivere, sed valera vita est
(life is not about living, but to live a good life)
Penelope hesitated for a split second before knocking. There was always something slightly weird about visiting her coworkers at their homes for the first time. Not that she wasn't excited to spend some quality time with Alex, it was just...an initial burst of uncomfortableness to see someone out of work and in their natural habitats.
It took a second for Alex to answer the door. "Hi!" she said. "Come in, it's cold out." Penelope stepped into the entryway, trying not to track snow onto the hardwood floor. "Thank you so much for helping with this, I really appreciate it. I had no clue what to do."
"No problem!" Penelope said. She held out her heavy tote bag and gave it an enticing little shake. "I came prepared. Plus, I've been doing my own hair since I was in high school, and I can't tell you how many girls came to my dorm room salon in college." She shrugged off her pink coat and Alex hung it up in the hall closet. "Where's the little angel?"
"Living room," Alex said. She closed the closet door. "James thinks he's finally over the flu, but we've been letting him take it easy. And we didn't really want to take him out in public, not until we'd done something to change his appearance."
"Well, I'm here to help," Penelope said.
Alex offered a smile that seemed stretched a little thin. "Thank you," she said. "I'm glad you're here."
Penelope followed her into the living room. It was a cozy space, with comfortable mismatched furniture and soft carpet and shelves lined in neatly displayed books. A weekday morning game show played quietly on the TV, but Spencer was paying more attention to his book than the screen. He curled up in the corner of the couch, cuddled up in a blanket with his thumb in his mouth and the book open on his knees, and he glanced up as they walked into the room.
"Hi, angel!" Penelope said. "How are you feeling?"
He slipped his thumb quickly out of his mouth. "Much better, thank you," he said politely. "Alex said you're going to change my hair so I'm less recognizable."
"That's right," Penelope said. "Are you excited?"
Spencer scrunched his nose. "Not particularly, but it's been a while since I've gotten my hair cut, so it'll probably less annoying when it's shorter," he said.
"Less annoying is good," Penelope said, nodding solemnly.
Alex switched off the TV. "Let's get set up in the kitchen," she said. She touched Spencer's shoulder lightly. "You can bring your book if you want." He nodded, but he closed it carefully and left it behind.
Penelope set up her supplies on the kitchen counter as Alex pulled one of the barstools from the breakfast bar to the middle of the floor. "I grabbed a few different options," she said. "Any thoughts? Ginger? Bleach blond? Teal?"
Alex laughed. "I think bleach is a little much for a nine-year-old," she said. "Teal might be fun though. But a little too attention-grabbing."
"I don't think I have much of a preference," Spencer said as he climbed into the chair. "Is it going to take a while?"
"A bit, but don't worry," Penelope promised him. "We'll get it done fast, it'll sit for thirty minutes, and then we'll wash it out. Not bad at all. And trust me, I do this all the time."
She picked up the color she thought would work best, a coloring conditioner in a deep chocolatey brown, and pulled on a pair of gloves. "Don't worry about the shirt, it's one of James's old ones," Alex said as she leaned back against the kitchen counter. She smiled as she crossed her arms. "This brings back memories. I used to dye my hair red when I was a teenager. Every two months, like clockwork. My dad got so mad that I kept spilling dye in the bathroom."
"Oh, you must've been so cute as a redhead," Penelope said. She picked up a wide toothed comb and gently untangled Spencer's thick, tangled hair. "I've been red before, but I always end up coming back to blonde. I feel like I was born to be a blonde."
Spencer squirmed a little bit as the comb caught on a particularly bad knot. "Do I have to have my hair this color forever?" he asked.
"No, sweetheart," Alex reassured him. "This is just temporary."
"It'll fade on its own," Penelope said, working as carefully as she could to keep from tugging too much. "But don't worry, I'll keep it up until you don't need it anymore." She set the comb down. "All right. Are you ready?"
"I suppose," Spencer sighed.
Penelope started working the dark color through his light brown hair. Alex started asking Spencer about the book he was reading, drawing him into a conversation to distract him from Penelope's work. When she was done she closed the tub of conditioner, started a timer on her phone, and rinsed out her brush. She didn't join into the conversation; instead, she found ways to busy herself so she could observe quietly while they talked.
It was odd to see Alex in her own home like this. Penelope was used to seeing her at work in her sharply tailored jackets and precise minimal makeup. Now she had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her face scrubbed clean, and she wore a soft long-sleeved top and dark jeans. She looked like any other mother spending a winter weekend at home. And she was so gentle talking to Spencer, listening carefully to what he had to say. It was clear that the two of them had clicked, that they understood each other, even if she wasn't his mother and he didn't belong to her.
The timer chimed and Penelope switched it off. "All right, my little jellybean, you're done," she said. "Do you want to wash your hair yourself?"
"I can manage," he said, sliding gingerly down from the chair. "I'll be right back."
Alex sighed as soon as he left the room. "Thank you so much for doing this," she said. "I'll be a lot less stressed about taking him out of the house."
"It's my pleasure," Penelope said. "He's the sweetest kid. How's he doing?"
"Better," Alex said. She pulled the hair tie out, raked her fingers through her dark hair, and tied her ponytail again. "He's slept a lot, mostly. James says he's not sure if Spencer actually had the flu, or if all the exhaustion and stress just caught up to him. Either way, he's been down for the count."
"Well, he's looking better already," Penelope reassured her.
Alex crossed her arms, digging her fingers into the sleeves of her soft sweater. "We're going to get him some clothes and get his room set up," she said. "And we're going to take him to a doctor to get fully checked out before he starts school."
"Oh, that's right, what are you guys doing about school?" Penelope asked.
"We're not quite ready to cross that bridge," Alex confessed. "We're looking at options, we just want to make sure he's in a completely different school district. And we want it to be a good school."
"He's so smart," Penelope said. "He talks like a little college professor already. It's so cute."
"Hopefully we can figure out a good situation for him," Alex said. "I don't know how long we'll have him, but as long as he's with us we want to do the best we can for him."
"How long are you thinking?" Penelope asked. "Are you thinking short term? Long term?" She paused. "Keeping him? I know I'm making him sound like a stray kitten you found in a parking lot, but...do you think you'll keep him?"
Alex hesitated, but before she could answer Spencer walked in, his long wet hair combed straight and dripping on his shoulders. "I think I got all the stuff out," he said.
"I'm sure you did," Penelope said. "Come on up here, young man. Is it still artist's choice for your haircut?"
Spencer shrugged as he sat down. "Just shorter, I guess," he said. Penelope draped a towel over his shoulders. "Did you know that it's a myth that your hair grows back faster after you cut it? It's actually that the frequent cutting eliminates split ends, which makes your hair look healthier, and healthier ends make it look longer."
Penelope picked up her scissors. "Where do you learn all these things?" she asked.
"I don't know, I just...do," he said. "I read a lot." He squirmed a little. "Are we done?"
"Not yet, my angel, but I'll work fast," she promised. "I used to cut all my brothers' hair. And I never nicked anybody with the scissors, if that's what you're worried about."
She worked as fast as could, cutting off big chunks of his thick silky hair that littered the kitchen floor. Spencer sat very still, almost as if he was holding his breath.
"There," she said. "All done. And you look even more handsome now."
She handed him her hot pink mirror and stepped back to admire her handiwork as Spencer regarded his reflection solemnly. "You look very nice," Alex reassured him, stepping beside him to brush a stray curl back from his forehead.
There was a definite wave to his hair now that it was cut shorter, and the darker color made his hazel eyes seem brighter. But more than that, side by side with Alex, it suddenly became entirely plausible that he was her child. The same dark hair, the same sharp cheekbones, the same tilt to their mouths. Penelope swallowed hard. She hadn't bargained on that.
She cleared her throat. "Just let me know whenever you need the color fixed or another trim, and I'll come right over," she said.
"Thank you so much for coming over," Alex said.
Penelope smiled. "Any time."
He was with the Blakes for a little over a week when they started talking about taking him out to get new clothes. It shouldn't have been a surprise- he wasn't sick anymore and he couldn't stay in the house indefinitely- but it still made irrational panic spike in his chest.
He slept very little on Saturday night and woke up early Sunday morning with a slight headache pushing at his temples. But he got up and made his bed and got dressed in his old clothes anyway, waiting for someone to come get him.
Alex knocked lightly as he was struggling to lace his old sneakers. "Good morning," she said. "Oh! You're already awake?" He nodded and she slipped into the room. "James will be ready soon and then we'll go. Are you hungry?"
He wasn't sure. Maybe he was hungry. Maybe he was too nervous. "No, I'm fine," he said.
Alex sat down on the edge of his bed. "Is there anything you want to look for while we're out?" she asked. He shook his head. "Well, today we'll just look for basics and winter clothes. We can worry about summer clothes later. And I'm sure it'll be a pretty hectic day, so we'll take care of getting things for your bedroom on another shopping trip."
He frowned. "My room is fine," he said.
"This is just the guest room, darling, we have a whole room that we'll set up to be just yours," Alex said. "Didn't we...come here, I'll show you."
She stood up and he followed her down the hall, confused. "This is going to be your room," Alex said, opening the door. "It just wasn't ready when we brought you home."
He peeked inside. It was a much larger room than the space he'd been staying in, hardwood floors and clean white walls with a big bay window and a cushioned bench. There were tall built in shelves that ran from floor to ceiling too, and he could already picture them filled with books.
"We'll paint the walls whatever color you'd like," Alex said.
"Purple?" he said without thinking.
She smiled. "We can do purple," she said.
He glanced around the room, wondering what it would look like when he was moved in. Other than books, he couldn't picture it. "Alex?" he asked. "How long am I staying here?"
She sighed. "I'm not sure," she said. "There's a lot of things that need to be taken care of."
She didn't elaborate, but he was smart. He could figure it out. They needed to catch Mr. Michaels. They needed to find his mom. They needed to make sure he didn't end up back in the same place they'd found him.
"Listen, Spencer," Alex said softly. "I don't know how long you'll be with us. But James and I want to take really good care of you as long as you're here. We want to make sure you have nice clothes and a nice room and a good school. And we want to keep you safe. We'll do everything we can. Okay?"
He didn't answer, still staring at the empty room, and she didn't press him for an answer. The other shoe was going to drop at some point, he knew it- some rule or stipulation, or they'd get tired of keeping him around. But it couldn't be that bad in the meantime. "Okay," he said at last.
"Hey, there you guys are," James said, leaning through the doorway. "Spencer, what do you think about your new room?"
"It's nice," he said.
James grinned. "It'll be nicer when you have furniture," he said. "Are you two ready to go?"
"I think so," Alex said.
Spencer followed them down the stairs. He hadn't been out of the house yet, and the nervousness began to build in his chest again. James got the borrowed coat from the hall closet and held it out to him. "We'll get you your own coat today," he promised as Spencer struggled to pull it on.
Alex slid her hands into her coat pocket. "We should go over ground rules," she said quietly.
"Yeah, we should," James said as he closed the closet door.
"First rule," Alex said. "We'll call you Ethan if we need to call you by name. And you'll need to address us as your parents. What do you want to call us?"
The idea of calling Alex mom made a lump rise in his throat. "I can call James Dad, if that's okay," he said. "Can...can I call you Mama, or something? Not Mom?"
"Dad and Mama are fine," James reassured him.
"Stay close to us while we're out," Alex said. "Don't go off by yourself. And tell us immediately if you see or hear anything that worries you. Okay?" He nodded. Alex smiled at him, but he couldn't muster a smile back.
They went out to James's car; Alex set the alarm and locked the door behind them. There was a new booster seat in the backseat and Spencer frowned. "That's for you," James said. "I know, it sucks. But for your size, it's safer."
Spencer sighed. "I guess you're right," he said. And James was right, the booster seat kind of sucked, but the seatbelt fit him a lot better now.
The drive was pretty quiet. James drove, and Alex chatted with him from her spot in the front passenger seat. Spencer stared out the window. It was a sharp pale gray winter morning, the sun a little too bright but not hot enough to melt the snow. For a sudden sharp moment he missed winters in Las Vegas, warm enough to go without a jacket but cool enough to not feel sweat rolling down the back of his neck.
Maybe, if everything worked out right, he'd be back in Las Vegas with his mother by summer.
James parked in the quiet, mostly empty shopping plaza and turned off the car. "All right, let's get inside before we freeze," he said.
Spencer tried to unbuckle the seatbelt; it took a couple of tries but he managed it and climbed out of the car. James locked the car and dropped the keys in his pocket, then held out his hand to Spencer. He took hold hesitantly.
Dad, he thought. I need to call him Dad. And Alex is Mama. And I'm Ethan.
He wondered how they'd decided on the name Ethan. Probably from a book or something. Ethan Frome, maybe.
Inside the store it was warm enough to take off his borrowed coat. James grabbed a cart and stacked their jackets on the seat. "What should we look for first?" he asked.
"I need coffee," Alex said, nodding towards the Starbucks. "What about everybody else?"
"Yeah, I could use some, now that you mention it," James said. He looked down at Spencer. "What about you, Ethan? You want to go with Mama and get some hot chocolate or something?"
Spencer's mouth went dry. "Uh-huh," he said.
James smiled at him, warm and encouraging. "You guys go on ahead, I'm going to go grab a few things," he said. "I'll be right back."
Spencer trailed behind Alex towards the Starbucks. It was an early Sunday and the store was mostly empty; the barista was busying herself with prepping for the day. "Hey, what can I get for you?" she said cheerfully as they approached.
Alex drew Spencer closer to her side. "What do you want, sweetheart?" she asked. He shrugged. "Does hot chocolate sound okay? Do you want a snack? We're going to get breakfast after this, but maybe a little something."
"I don't know," he said, and he meant it. There were too many choices.
"Is it okay if I pick something for you?" she asked. He nodded. Alex stepped up to the counter to order. She knew exactly what to order for James, and somehow that seemed almost reassuring. Alex and James really seemed like they liked each other. His parents had spent the first six years of his life telling him they loved each other, but not once did he ever think that William and Diana Reid liked each other.
Alex handed him a crisp little paper bag. "There you go," she said. "I thought you might like that."
He peeked inside and found a chocolate croissant. "Thank you," he said. He tore off a little piece and nibbled it cautiously. It was delicious- warm and buttery, the chocolate melting on his lower lip. He hadn't been hungry much over the past week while he was sick, and for the first time in days his stomach rumbled. He ate the rest of it quickly, scarfing the pastry down before it had the chance to get cold.
"Are you still hungry?" Alex asked. "I can get you something else."
He shook his head. "No, that was fine," he lied. "Thank you so much."
Alex smiled and picked up a napkin. "Hold still for a second," she said, and she wiped the errant chocolate smears from his chin and lower lip. "You've got a major sweet tooth, don't you?"
"Kind of," he confessed.
"Dad does too," she said. "Unfortunately for both of you, I'm not very good at baking. But I'm sure Penelope will take care of that. She's always bringing baked goods to the office."
It took him a second to register that by Dad she meant James. Alex threw away the napkin, handed him a small cup, and picked up two larger ones. "Let's go get you some clothes, okay?" she said. "And once we're done we'll go out for breakfast."
He sipped his hot chocolate as he followed her. The drink was just warm enough and just sweet enough and the sugar buzzed in his veins. This was nice. This was okay. Everything was going to be fine.
Shopping for clothes turned out to be a little more difficult than he'd bargained, though. To their credit, James and Alex were calm about the whole thing, sorting through racks and asking him what he thought of everything before they put it back or put it in the cart. It was just so much. Too much.
It got worse when he had to try things on. Much worse.
Alex sent him into a dressing room with a couple of items and it was torture trying to wrestle in and out of shirts and pants to see if they fit correctly. And he wasn't ready to look at himself in the mirror yet; he wasn't used to his short dark hair and it was like looking at a stranger.
He heaped the clothes into two piles and unlatched the dressing room door. "I'm done," he called, and he froze.
There was a man jiggling the handle of the door across from him, average height and holding a couple of shirts. Spencer couldn't see his face, but he could see his dark green jacket, and his black sneakers.
"What's wrong?" Alex asked. She was so close to the man, and yet she didn't seem to notice him. He stumbled back. "Are you all right?"
Alex, he tried to say, but he knew it wasn't right and he struggled to correct himself. "Mama," he croaked instead, but it was like trying to scream in a nightmare. Almost no sound came out. He pointed a shaking hand at the man with the green jacket. "Mama…"
Alex looked from him to the man and back. "Honey, that's not him," she said in a low voice as the man went into the dressing room and closed the door behind him. "It's definitely not him."
Spencer swallowed hard. "Mama," he tried to say again, and this time he managed to make a sound, but he couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.
Alex ushered him back into the dressing room and latched the door. "It's okay," she said quietly, scooping him up in her arms and sitting down on the bench. "You're safe. You're safe, darling."
He wrapped his arms around her neck and hid his face in her shoulder, trying to muffle the sobs that broke from his throat. Alex held him almost too tight but he wished it was tighter. Panic made him dizzy, blacking out his vision and spinning him until he wasn't sure where he was or what was happening or how much time had passed. The only thing he was sure of was Alex's heartbeat against his cheek and her soft voice as she tried to soothe him.
"It's okay, my darling, I'm here, I'm right here, you're safe, no one's going to hurt you, I'll make sure of it…"
His breathing slowed into harsh ragged gasps as the panic attack began to subside and he relaxed his desperate death grip on Alex's shoulders. She kept rocking him, her voice still gentle and hushed, until he finally struggled to sit up, swiping at his cheeks.
"I'm sorry," he said, his shoulders twitching sharply as he hiccupped.
Alex ran the back of her fingers against his cheek, brushing tears away. "I got a good look at him, it wasn't Gary Michaels," she said. "But I know that was really scary. How are you feeling?"
"I'm okay," he whispered. He slid down from her lap, his knees wobbling. "These, um...these clothes were good, and these didn't, didn't fit…"
Alex picked him up. "Don't worry about the clothes right now," she said. "Let's go talk to Dad, he's right outside."
He let Alex carry him, mostly because he wasn't sure if he could walk right that second. His legs felt limp and shaky. James was standing with the half-full cart just outside the dressing rooms, sipping his coffee while he waited, and he set the cup down immediately when he saw them. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"He thought he saw him," Alex said quietly. "It wasn't him, he's safe. But…" Her voice trailed off.
James smoothed Spencer's hair back from his forehead. "Let's call it a day," he said. "We've got a good amount of stuff. And hey- we know what sizes you are, we can order clothes online for you from home. Does that sound good?" Spencer nodded, his lower lip wobbling despite his best efforts. "Do you want to go out for breakfast, or do you want to go home?"
He wasn't hungry. He could never eat again. "I want to go home," he whispered, and Alex hugged him tighter.
"Okay, buddy, let's go home," James said. "Alex, do you want to take him out to the car? I'll finish up here."
"Yeah, of course," Alex said, taking the keys from him.
She set him down long enough to get their coats on, and once he was taken care of she picked him up again. His first instinct was to fight, to insist he was big enough to walk, to squirm until she put him down. But she was stronger than she looked and she held him easily, and all he wanted was to lean his head on her shoulder. He was so tired.
Alex carried him out to the car as exhaustion rolled over him like a fast-moving fog. He was almost asleep already by the time she unlocked the car doors and lifted him into his booster seat. She must've thought he was asleep too, because after she buckled him in she leaned towards him and kissed his temple lightly.
"You're safe, my darling," she murmured, and for the first time, he thought he could believe her.
"I'm home," Alex called as she closed the front door behind her.
"Dinner's almost ready," James called back.
She smiled as she hung up her coat. James had always been a better cook than her, and she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed coming home to find he'd already made her dinner. It was funny how they could be apart for so long, and yet they fit back together so easily.
"What's for dinner?" she asked as she walked into the kitchen and tilted her face towards James.
He bent to kiss her lightly. "Just spaghetti," he said. "Hopefully Spencer will be able to eat it."
Alex frowned as she filled a glass with water. "I don't know what to make of his eating habits," she said. "Sometimes he eats like he's starving, sometimes he won't eat more than a few bites. And neither of us can get an explanation out of him."
"There could be a couple of reasons," James said as he lifted a saucepan lid and stirred the contents. "He's been living in a state of food insecurity for a long time now, he's probably trying to eat whenever he has the chance because he's not sure when he'll get another chance."
"But why does he avoid eating sometimes?" she pressed.
James was silent for a moment. "I'm not sure," he said. "Anxiety, maybe? Or sensory issues?" He put the lid back in place. "We'll have to talk about it at his doctor's appointment tomorrow."
"This is the doctor you know, right?"
"Yeah, I've known Rhys since I was in medical school," James said. "We can tell him the truth about Spencer. I think that's fair to be transparent with him if we want to get Spencer's medical issues straightened out."
"That's true," Alex said. She tapped her fingertips lightly against the side of her glass. "What should we expect from tomorrow?"
"Honestly? Not sure," James said. "We know almost nothing about Spencer's medical history. And it's been so long since he's seen a doctor, anything could have happened with him in the last three years. Plus we don't know what might have been left out from his records. It's unknown territory." He switched off the burner. "Do you want to go get him? Dinner's ready."
She set her glass aside. "Sure, I'll go get him," she said.
She headed up the stairs towards the guest room. Hopefully they could tackle his real bedroom soon and get him moved in. He deserved his own space.
The door to the guest room was left partially open, but she knocked anyways. "Hey, dinner's ready," she said. "Want to come help me set the table?"
Spencer raised his head. "Hm?" he said sleepily. He was curled up against the pillows, a blanket half pulled around him and a book propped open on his knees.
"Dinner's ready, let's go set the table," Alex said. She smiled. "What book are you reading?" He held it up. "Oh. Brave New World? That's...huh. We might need to get you some books of your own."
"But it's a classic," Spencer objected.
"Yes, but just because it's a classic doesn't mean you're the right demographic to read it," Alex said. "And at the moment you're stuck with whatever books you can find in the house. What kinds of books do you like to read?"
He slid down from the bed. "I don't know, I just read whatever I can get," he said. He frowned up at her. "My old teacher hated it when I read books that weren't on the class reading list. You're not going to make me read fourth grade books, are you?"
"What do you classify as fourth grade books?"
Spencer wrinkled his nose. "Like...Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Captain Underpants," he said. "I don't find them particularly enjoyable."
"No, I don't imagine you would," Alex said. "But there's lots of other books written for children that I'm sure you would like. What sorts of books did you read when you were little?"
"Whatever my mom was reading," he said as he followed her down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Idylls of the King was one of my favorites. Paradise Lost, Divine Comedy, Sir Gawaine and the Green Knight. Lots of Chaucer and Kempe. Edmund Spenser's Faerie Queen. That's how I got my name, you know."
"Really?" Alex said. She opened the silverware drawer and handed him three spoons and three forks.
"Mm-hm," he said as she picked up knives and napkins. He trailed behind her like a duckling, helping her set the table. "They argued a lot because my dad didn't want me to have a medieval name and my mom didn't want me to have a family name. So they each picked a middle name that they liked, and they agreed on Spencer. My dad didn't know it was a medieval name until I was two."
"Oh," Alex said, catching James's eye across the kitchen. She hadn't heard Spencer bring up his mother lately, and it was the first she was hearing of his father. "So what's your full name?"
"Spencer Walter Tristan Reid," he said. "One is from Tristan and Iseult and the other is my paternal grandfather."
"I think I can guess which one is is which," Alex said. She wanted so badly to press for more information, but she didn't want to push him too far and risk having him shut down. "Tristan and Iseult is lovely. But sad."
"My mom says happiness in stories is boring," Spencer said. "Tragedy is more interesting."
"Interesting, yes, but I like a little happiness in real life," Alex said. You could do with a little more happiness, she wanted to say. You've had enough tragedy in your little life.
I've had enough tragedy in my own life, she almost said.
"All right, everybody sit," James said, and she shook her head to clear the thought. "There's plenty on the stove, so if anybody wants more, it's there."
She knew that was directed to Spencer and she watched him out of the corner of his eye. He hesitated for a moment, as if he wasn't quite sure where to sit, but as they took their usual chairs he sat down in the remaining seat. James set a plate down in front of him. He just stared at it, biting his lower lip.
Just as she sat down her phone rang. "Sorry, just a second, it's work," she said, pulling it out of her pocket and walking out to the hallway. "Hello?"
"Blake, we need you in the office," Hotch said, his voice clipped. "We've got a case, we're leaving for South Carolina in an hour."
She hesitated. "Are you sure?" she said.
"Of course I'm sure," Hotch said. "Garcia is already sending the case information to your iPad, I'll fill you in on the rest on the jet."
She let out a measured breath. "Of course," she said. "I'm on my way."
"Good. See you soon."
She ended the call and stared blankly at the screen. It was sheer luck that she'd had so much time in the office since they'd brought Spencer home. She should have known that she'd be called out into the field. But she'd thought it would be so much easier.
She walked slowly back into the kitchen. "Did you get called on a case?" James asked quietly.
"Yeah," she said. "South Carolina. The jet leaves in an hour."
Spencer dropped his fork. "You're leaving?" he said.
"Only for a little while," she said. "As soon as the case ends, I'll be right back. I promise."
"Who's going to take you to my doctor's appointment tomorrow?" Spencer asked.
"I will," James said. "Is that okay to go with just me?"
Spencer hesitated, and Alex's chest ached. It wasn't fine. She could tell. It was the first time that she'd ever felt that Spencer actually wanted her- not just needed her, but wanted her- and she wanted to hug him so badly.
"It's okay," Spencer finally said.
Alex allowed herself to reach over and squeeze his shoulder lightly. "I really will be home soon," she told him softly. "And you're just as safe with James as you are with me. I'll call as often as I can, and if you need me James will text me right that second. Okay?"
He nodded. Alex cupped his chin in her hand and bent to kiss his cheek. "Eat your dinner and get some sleep," she said. "You'll do great at the doctor's tomorrow."
James got up from the table and kissed her. "Call me when you land," he said.
"I will," she said. He enveloped her in a tight hug. "And keep me updated with everything."
"I will," he said, kissing the side of her head. "Go catch some bad guys."
She got her coat back from the hall closet and picked up her keys. For a moment she considered turning back around and calling Hotch to tell him that she couldn't go. But she couldn't.
"I love you," she called.
"Love you," James called back.
She walked outside into the cold night, closing the door behind her, and she hoped Spencer knew that that was meant for him too.
"So what's your child's name?"
"Ethan Blake," James said automatically as he filled out the sign-in forms and it startled him at how easily the name came out of his mouth.
"All right, well, you and Ethan have a seat, we'll call you when we're ready," the receptionist said.
James handed the clipboard back and sat down next to Spencer. "Are you doing okay, buddy?" he asked softly. Spencer nodded, not looking up from his book.
He knew Spencer was anxious. They'd promised him he wouldn't go to the doctor until he was over the flu, and that they'd both go with him. But now Alex was in another state, and even though Spencer had obediently gotten ready for the appointment and got into the car without a fight, James knew without a shadow of a doubt that Spencer was terrified and wanted Alex there with him. He hadn't eaten dinner, he was wide awake every time James checked on him during the night, and he refused breakfast. And he had barely spoken a word since Alex had kissed him goodbye.
A nurse in mauve scrubs leaned out of the door. "Ethan Blake?" she called.
James got up and found himself instinctively reaching for the handles of his son's wheelchair. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets instead. "Come on, buddy," he said, trying to keep his voice as light and casual as possible. Spencer closed the book and slid down from the chair.
The nurse walked them into the back. "Okay, sweetie, I'm going to record your height and weight, so take off your shoes and step up there for me," she said. James craned his neck to get a good look as the nurse fiddled with the dials and recorded the results. "Perfect. All right, put your shoes back on and follow me."
James frowned. He wasn't happy with either of those numbers. Spencer was way too small for his age- too short, too skinny. Something had to be done about that.
The nurse opened an exam room door. "Okay, Ethan, come on in and sit up here for me," the nurse said, patting the examination table. "I'm going to take your vitals and ask your dad a few questions, and then the doctor will come in and see you."
Spencer did everything the nurse asked him, taking off his new coat so she could take his blood pressure and submitted to having his eyes, nose, and throat stared at. James watched him carefully.
The nurse handed him what looked like a wide plastic spoon. "Cover your left eye for me and read that chart over there, please?" she said. Spencer balked. "What's wrong?"
"That doesn't look like the chart my old school had," he said.
The nurse laughed. "Oh, yeah, some of them are different," she said. "Read the smallest line you can for me, please."
Spencer shifted his weight nervously and did his best. He read the letters aloud, slow and halting. James tried to keep his expression neutral, but alarm bells were ringing at top volume. "Now the other eye," the nurse said. The other eye didn't fare much better, but the nurse kept moving forward. "Dad, I have few questions for you now."
James went over Spencer's adapted file with her. He'd done his best to memorize the contents and the nurse didn't seem too concerned. "So no current prescriptions right now. Any allergies?" she asked.
"Not that we know of," James said.
She made a note. "All right, well, the doctor should be in pretty soon, okay?" she said. She pulled a fabric exam gown with an overly cheerful print out of a drawer. "Go ahead and put that one while you're waiting. I'll be right down the hall if you have any questions. Have a good day!"
James waited for the door to close. "Do you need a hand?" he asked.
"I'm fine," Spencer said. "Can you take my book please?"
James took it as Spencer slid down from the exam table and started to change clothes. He vaguely recognized the novel as one from Alex's shelves- she was right, they should get him some slightly more age appropriate books. A Stephen King anthology probably wasn't the best choice for a nine year old who already had enough trouble sleeping through the night.
Spencer fixed the velcro closures of the exam gown and folded his clothes neatly, setting them down on the chair beside James. "You're doing great so far," James told him. "Anything you're nervous about?"
"I don't want them to give me shots, or take blood," Spencer confessed. "I know it's not going to hurt me in the long run, but...it makes me anxious."
"Yeah, that makes a lot of sense," James said. "I'll stay with you as much as you want me, though. I'll be right here the whole time." Spencer nodded. He tried to climb up on the table but he couldn't quite make it; James picked him up and set him down carefully.
There was a sharp knock and a brief pause before the door opened. "James Blake, I haven't seen you in years," the doctor said, smiling as he closed the door behind him. "How are you?"
"Great, great," James said, getting up from his chair to shake his hand. "And you?"
"Can't complain," he said. He turned towards Spencer. "Now, according to your paperwork, you're Ethan Blake, but I understand that your name is Spencer. Is that correct?"
"Yes, sir," Spencer said in a small voice.
"Spencer, This is Rhys Lynch, I've known him since I was in medical school," James said. "He's one of the best pediatricians I've ever worked with. You're in good hands." Spencer nodded, but he didn't seem convinced.
James sat back and observed quietly as Rhys went through the steps of a full physical. Spencer's anxiety was palpable, but he knew it wasn't the first time Rhys had taken care of a scared child. He hadn't been lying- he really was one of the best pediatricians he'd worked with. For the first year of Ethan's life he'd been his doctor, before they needed to start taking him to specialists.
"You've done very well, young man," Rhys said at last. "We're not quite done yet, but you can go ahead and change. I'll have a word with James in the hallway."
He nodded towards the door and James followed him into the hall. "What are you thinking?" James asked as soon as the door closed.
"He's not in great shape, but it could be worse," Rhys said. "He's malnourished. He's behind in his development for sure. Clear signs of neglect, but no signs of abuse, thank god. And are you planning on taking him to a dentist?"
"It's on the to do list."
"Good. And while you're at it, I have an ophthalmologist I can refer you to. His vision is incredibly poor."
"Yikes," James sighed. Of all the things he'd considered, he hadn't thought about bad vision. "But…overall, he's okay?"
Rhys eyed him carefully. "No rare genetic disorders, if that's what you're inquiring about," he said, not unkindly. "But he needs a fair amount of TLC. He needs to eat, he needs to sleep. He could probably benefit from counseling." He paused. "You mentioned there was trauma involved. What kind of trauma?"
James glanced around, making sure no one was around to eavesdrop, and sketched out the situation as simply and quickly as he could. Rhys let out a low whistle. "Jesus," he said. "Yeah, get him counseling. And keep an eye out for regressive behaviors. Anxiety, mood swings, maybe even temper tantrums or accidents at night. He might struggle with academics when you put him back in school."
"Alex and I are both going to do our best to take care of him," James said quickly. "We had already applied to foster and adopt, we've taken all the classes."
"Well, feel free to call me if you ever need help," Rhys said. "At any time." He tilted his head. "Adoption, huh? You thinking about keeping him?"
"He's not a stray puppy we found behind a dumpster," James objected. "But no, we haven't really thought about adopting him. I think the current hope is reunification with his mother."
Rhys shook his head. "Sure," he said, clearly skeptical. James didn't press him for more information. He didn't want to pick a fight. "Well, let's go back in there."
Rhys opened the door again. Spencer was dressed again, sitting quietly on the examination table with his hands knotted on his lap. James offered him what he hoped was an encouraging smile.
"Well, young man, we're almost done, just one last thing," Rhys said. "A blood test and a couple of shots."
All the color drained from Spencer's face. "Do I have to do all of them at once?" he asked.
"Unfortunately, yes," Rhys said. "I'd like to run a full blood panel, and you're way behind on your vaccination schedule. I know it's intimidating, but it'll be over quickly. And if you want to sit with James, you are more than welcome to." Spencer nodded reluctantly. "I'll send the nurse in a second. Sit tight."
The door closed behind him. Spencer turned to James. "Do I have to?" he said desperately.
"Yeah, you do, buddy," James said. "But I'll be right here the whole time."
Spencer bit his lip, as if he was thinking about something and didn't know if he should say it. "My mom said I couldn't go to doctors because they were going to put chips under my skin so the government would track me, but that doesn't sound right," he blurted out. "But...my mom said it."
He sounded so scared and desperate that it broke James's heart. "C'mere, kiddo," he said, hoisting Spencer off the exam table and settling him on his lap. He half expected Spencer to wriggle away and sit next to him instead, or at least sit stiffly, but instead Spencer curled up against him, his head on his shoulder. "No one is putting microchips in your skin, and nobody is going to track you. Doctors help people. Especially this doctor. I know he wants to help take care of you. And doing a blood test and getting vaccinations are the best way to do that, even if it's scary."
Spencer nodded, his forehead tucked into his neck. "Can we wait until Alex gets back?" he ventured.
"I'm so sorry, kiddo, we're going to do it today," James said, rubbing his back. He was so thin. Way too thin. "Do you want to sit on my lap? I'll hold you the whole time if that'll help."
The nurse walked into the room before Spencer could answer. "Hi, sweetie," she said cheerfully. "We'll get this over with real quick, okay? Which arm do you want?"
Spencer silently held out his left arm. The nurse rolled up his sleeve briskly, tied a band around his upper arm, and pressed a blue stress ball in his hand. "Give that a good squeeze for me," she said.
James shifted Spencer on his lap. "Don't look at it," he said. "Just close your eyes."
Spencer closed his eyes tight as the nurse stuck the soft skin of his inner arm. James rubbed his back firmly as the nurse collected four vials. "There you go, good job!" she said. "All done."
Spencer opened his eyes, saw the tubes, and immediately turned gray. "Keep your eyes closed," James told him. "I've still got you."
The shots went better than the bloodwork. James kept him on his lap, letting him lean against his chest as the nurse injected three different shots into his upper arm. She offered to let him pick out his own bandaids but he didn't seem too excited about it, so she selected them herself and placed them on.
When the appointment was over he set Spencer on his feet and pulled his new coat back onto him. "You ready to go home?" he asked.
Spencer wavered a little bit. "Yeah," he said.
"We can call Alex in the car," James offered. He held out his hand. "C'mon, let's go."
Spencer stared down at the floor. "Can...can you carry me?" he asked. "I'm really tired."
"Yeah, of course I can," James said softly. He picked Spencer up carefully, letting him rest his cheek against his shoulder. "Let's get you home so you can take a nap."
"But we can still call Alex?"
James smiled. "Yeah, we can still call Alex," he said. "I bet she's been worried about you all day."
Author's Notes:
OOF I went on another accidental break. I don't even know what happened this time. Well, if you follow me on tumblr you might have seen my sporadic updates about how bonkers life has been lately, but I'm so glad to finally be writing and posting again!
please let me know what you though! I'd really appreciate it a whole lot!