A/N: So, hello everyone. This is my first foray into the Criminal Minds fandom. I'll admit it's a bit different from my usual fare, since I normally write for fantasy fandoms, but I've been massively hooked on Criminal Minds ever since I discovered it. I really enjoy the show's focus on character development and and the familial bonds between the team.

I've read a few fics with the premise of Reid suddenly gaining custody of a teenage half-sister, and I like the general idea enough that I decided to write my own. However, I also like the idea of William Reid spending the rest of his life alone as penance, so I tweaked the premise a bit. Plus, I always try to put my own unique spin on any premise I write that's been done before.

Disclaimer: I am not deaf, nor do I know anyone who is deaf. I've done some research and I've done my best to be as accurate as possible, but if I misrepresent deaf people in some way, then I apologize. No offense is intended.

I will update every Saturday. I actually have several seasons' worth of this fic pre-written, so this fic will be quite lengthy. On the other hand, I've been writing in one long, unbroken document, so I'm now having to add in chapter breaks after the fact. So if it seems like a chapter has a weird stopping point, that's why.

There will be no ships apart from canon. I will not budge on that. And in case the summary wasn't clear: this story starts in March 2005, roughly six months prior to Season 1.

And last but not least, I do not own Criminal Minds. Happy Halloween!

Things began going wrong even before the case started. Reid woke up to the sound of disembodied voices, and it took ten terrifying minutes for him to figure out that the neighbors had left their TV on and he wasn't having a schizophrenic break. Haley informed Hotch that her pregnancy test came out positive, only for his phone to go off seconds later and call him away on the new case. McLean arrived late because her son had kept crying and clinging to her and refusing to go to daycare. Morgan tripped over a box left out in the bullpen, hit his head on a nearby desk, and broke his wrist landing on the floor. Morgan was carted off to the hospital while the rest of the team finally gathered to hear the details of Boston's serial bomber.

Once in Boston, the team worked up a profile, only to find themselves revising it when the next bomb didn't go off where they expected it. And then another bombing forced another revision. But after three days, they were finally getting somewhere.

And then Reid's phone went off with the call that would change his life forever. "This is Dr. Spencer Reid," he answered.

"Hello Dr. Reid, my name is Cynthia Evarts with Child Protective Services."

"Yes, how can I help you?" Reid responded, confused as to why CPS would be calling him.

"First, I need to ask a few questions to verify your identity. You are Spencer Reid, son of Diana Reid née Williams, correct?"

"Yes?" Reid confirmed. It slowly dawned on him that this call had nothing to do with the case, and he hurriedly excused himself and stepped outside.

"And your mother had a younger sister named Vivian, married name Warner, correct?"

"Vivian is real?!" Reid exclaimed incredulously before he could stop himself.

"I beg your pardon?"

Reid awkwardly cleared his throat. "Sorry. My mother is a…is a paranoid schizophrenic. She's mentioned someone named Vivian several times, but…I always thought Vivian was one of my mother's delusions. No one else has ever mentioned her, and I've never met her."

"Ah. I see," Ms. Evarts said, sounding uncomfortable. "Then I presume that you are unaware that Mrs. Warner and her husband were recently killed in a car accident, leaving their twelve-year-old daughter Jessica without a guardian?"

"I-I was unaware, yes."

"We have been attempting to track down Jessica's relatives. At the moment, it appears that you are the only relative who can take her—if you are willing, of course."

"I…I…" Reid stuttered, dumbfounded. He was only twenty-three years old, working a highly dangerous job that required a considerable amount of travel, and suddenly he was expected to take care of a middle schooler? It was only five years ago that he'd freed himself from the role of caretaker—and he felt incredibly guilty that the phrase 'freeing himself' had even crossed his mind.

"I understand that this is a great shock, and I expect that you will need some time to think this over," Ms. Evarts continued. "But for Jessica's sake, I urge you to consider taking her. You're her only hope of avoiding foster care."

"Right, I'll…I'll consider it," Reid managed to say. Finally, another important detail occurred to him. "Ah…where are you located, precisely?"

"We are located in Somerville, Massachusetts, just outside of Boston."

"Somerville," Reid repeated in surprise. Not only was his cousin nearby, but he was familiar with the area from his days at MIT. "Could I get an exact address, please?"

"4247 Kingsland Drive."

"Thank you. I'll…I'll get back to you." Reid hung up the phone, then stared at it. He had a cousin. Just like that, he had a cousin. And they wanted him to take her in and raise her. How on earth was he supposed to do that? There had to be some other relative that they'd missed, surely? Reid was hardly a suitable candidate to be anyone's legal guardian. Not with his job. He couldn't spend half his time flying around the country while raising a kid.

But he could transfer to another department, one that didn't involve so much travel. He just didn't want to. And honestly, wasn't that rather selfish of him?

But…but he was too young for this!

He might be below the mean age to become a father, but he would hardly be the youngest parent ever.

And what if he turned out like his mother? If he had a schizophrenic break, it would almost certainly happen before Jessica turned eighteen. Could he, in good conscience, risk putting her in the exact same position he'd been in? Surely that was a valid reason not to take her. She'd be better off in foster care.

Reid shifted and frowned, mentally chiding himself for making excuses. How many times had he gone out of his way to avoid Child Protective Services during his own childhood? He'd known his mother wasn't fit to raise him, and still he'd decided that staying with her was a better option than going into foster care. And he'd been two years younger than Jessica was now when he'd made that decision. She deserved the chance to make that same choice for herself, especially since Reid wasn't schizophrenic at the moment and might never be. Jessica deserved the opportunity to avoid foster care, and she deserved to meet the man who currently held her fate in his hands. As much as Reid didn't want the responsibility of guardianship, he'd never be able to live with himself if he rejected his cousin outright.

Reid went back into the field office and asked for the rest of the day off, saying only that he had a family emergency. Permission was granted, and Reid took the T out to Somerville, pondering all the things he would need to do if Jessica really wanted to live with a potential schizophrenic. He'd need to find a suitable school, he'd need to get a bigger apartment, he'd need a job with less travel…

At last, Reid reached his stop, and he walked the rest of the way to the address he'd been given. Nervously, he walked in the front door and approached the desk. "Hello, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid, I received a phone call about an hour ago?"

"Oh!" the receptionist exclaimed in surprise. "We didn't expect you so soon, Dr. Reid, I could have sworn we'd been told you lived in Washington DC."

"I do, I just happened to be in town for work."

"Oh, well, excellent timing, then." The woman smiled. "Have you made your decision, then?"

"I'd like to meet Jessica and discuss a few things with her before deciding anything, if you don't mind."

"Ah." The woman's smile seemed to drop a little. "Of course." She stood up and moved out from behind her desk. "Right this way."

The woman led Reid down a darkened, messy hallway and up a staircase. At the top of the stairs, she opened the first door on the right without knocking. Inside, a miserable-looking girl was curled up on a bed with a book. She had long curly blonde hair, brown eyes, and a frame even skinnier than Reid's. He wondered if they were giving her enough to eat.

"Jessica, this is your cousin, Spencer," the receptionist said loudly and slowly.

Jessica stared dully at them. Then, a trace of defiance in her expression, she signed a reply. "Hello. My name is J-E-S-S-I-C-A. My name sign is Jessica."

Reid started in surprise. "Hello, Jessica," he signed in reply. "My name is S-P-E-N-C-E-R. I don't have a name sign."

Jessica's jaw dropped, and she slowly broke into a smile. The receptionist stared at Reid. "Dr. Reid, you sign?"

"Yes," Reid confirmed, signing along for Jessica's sake. "Why was I not informed that…" He paused, turning to Jessica. "Are you deaf?"

Jessica nodded, shooting a look of annoyance at the receptionist.

"I'm terribly sorry, Dr. Reid, I had no idea you had not been informed of Jessica's condition," the receptionist apologized. Something in her expression made Reid question whether the omission had really been an accidental oversight, but he decided not to press the matter.

"It's a very good thing I studied ASL in college, then," Reid replied. He looked at Jessica again. "Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked, gesturing to a chair opposite her bed.

"Go ahead."

"I'll just…leave you two to get acquainted, then," the receptionist said, looking mildly uncomfortable. "You know the rules, Jessica, the door must be open if there is a male in the room."

Jessica nodded, and the receptionist left. Jessica turned back to Reid, her expression one of mingled hope and relief. "How well can you sign?"

"I'm fluent," Reid assured her.

Jessica heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank god. No one here knows how to sign. Everyone keeps making these really exaggerated mouth movements that actually make it harder to read their lips."

"I'm sorry," Reid signed sympathetically. "And I'm sorry about your parents."

"Thank you," Jessica signed sadly.

Reid looked around the rather shabby room. "Apart from the exaggerated mouth movements, are they treating you well?"

Jessica shrugged. "I think they're desperate to get rid of me. They tried to give me to Uncle John—my dad's brother—but he wouldn't take me. Dad said he used to come around when I was really little, but he stopped after I got sick and became deaf. I was two."

Reid winced, unpleasantly reminded of his father. "I'm sorry."

Jessica sighed. "At least he had the decency to tell these people that Mom had mentioned a crazy sister named Diana. I guess that must be your mom."

Reid grimaced at Jessica's use of the word 'crazy'. "Yes." He steeled himself, then plowed on. "My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic. She was diagnosed before I was born; I never knew a time when she was what you might consider 'normal'. And Jessica, you need to know—schizophrenia is genetically passed. Most schizophrenic breaks occur between the ages of 16 and 30, and I'm 23 right now. There's a chance I'll have a schizophrenic break before you reach the age of majority. If you want to come live with me, you need to be aware of and prepared for that possibility."

Jessica swallowed, but didn't hesitate. "You're family, and you know how to sign. I want to live with you."

Reid nodded. This would be difficult, but after seeing this place, he knew he couldn't in good conscience leave Jessica here. "There are some other logistics that we'll have to work out too. My job involves a lot of travel, and I currently live in a one-bedroom apartment. I'll have to make arrangements at my job and find a bigger apartment for us to live in. And I'll have to find a school for you. I don't know if they told you, but I'm not actually from the Boston area. I live in Washington, DC."

Jessica looked crestfallen. "So…I can't come live with you right away?"

Reid didn't need to be a profiler to see that she was desperate for ASL-fluent company. "Well…if you don't mind not having your own room yet, I could talk to my boss about bringing you back with us when we finish up here. There will still be paperwork to process, though."

"Please," Jessica begged.

"All right," Reid relented. He was about to pull out his phone and call Gideon right then and there, but Jessica signed again.

"So, what is your job, anyway? Are you a super secret spy? Is that why you call yourself a doctor but wear a gun?"

Reid moved his hand away from his phone. "Not quite. I have PhDs, three of them, and I work for the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. We study criminal behavior in order to build a profile and figure out the kind of person we're looking for."

"But you chase criminals and shoot people?" Jessica persisted, clearly not ready to give up on the idea of her new guardian being some kind of action hero.

"Well, I can do that if I have to, but mostly I leave that part to my team," Reid admitted. "I've never actually shot anyone."

Jessica looked disappointed. "That's still cool, I guess." She glanced at the book she'd been reading when he came in. "Do you like to read?"

Reid smiled. "Jessica, I read 20,000 words per minute, and I have an eidetic memory. I remember everything I've ever read, and I read a lot. Most of my walls are covered in bookcases."

"What about action movies? Do you have a TV with closed captioning? Are there any good parks near where you live? I love nature. Do you have any pets? I had a gerbil once, but he died." Jessica suddenly stopped, looking embarrassed. "Sorry, I haven't had anyone to sign to in a long time."

"It's okay. Sometimes I ramble too. I don't watch many movies apart from science fiction and foreign films. I don't have a TV at the moment, but if you really want one, I could look into getting one. There aren't any good parks near my apartment, but we'll be moving anyway. No, I don't have any pets."

"Okay." Jessica swallowed, then surged forward and hugged a very surprised and flustered Reid. He awkwardly patted her before she pulled away. "I'm glad they found you. And you need a name sign. How about…Spencer?"

"Okay, Spencer it is," Reid agreed. "But I need to make some phone calls now, and deal with the paperwork for adopting you."

"Okay. Nice to meet you, Spencer." Jessica pulled out her book again.

Reid exited her room and pulled out his phone, dialing Gideon's number. He went downstairs and out to the front porch of the house while he waited for Gideon to pick up. The phone went to voicemail. Frowning, Reid dialed Hotch's number. No response. McLean didn't pick up her phone either. Finally, Reid called Garcia.

"Office of knowledge, speak and your questions shall be answered."

"Hey, Garcia, has something happened on the case?" Reid asked worriedly. "No one is picking up their phones."

"We tracked Adrian Bale to a warehouse downtown," Garcia explained. "They went to arrest him about half an hour ago."

"Oh," Reid said with a sigh. It seemed he would have to wait, then. He debated whether or not he should go through all the adoption paperwork before he got official permission to take Jessica with him on the jet.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Garcia asked, concerned. "McLean said something about you having a family emergency?"

Reid sat down on a nearby bench. "I've just found out that I have an orphaned twelve-year-old cousin named Jessica, and I'm the only relative who can—or will—take her." He shook his head in disbelief. "I spent three years at MIT, never knowing I had family in the area."

There was a long silence before Garcia spoke again. "Sweetie, I honestly can't tell if that was a joke or not."

"It's not."

"Uh, wow. Okay. That's…that's big. You sure you're up for the task?"

"No," Reid admitted. "But I can't just leave her to foster care. She's deaf, and they're hardly doing anything to accommodate her."

"She's deaf?!" Garcia gasped. "Oh, that poor baby! I'm online ordering a book of sign language as we speak. Actually, make that six."

"Thanks, but I actually don't need one. I learned ASL in college," Reid informed her.

Garcia laughed. "Of course you did. Why did I ever assume you wouldn't have?"

"Well, it's an understandable assumption. The majority of US citizens do not understand ASL. It's difficult to determine an exact percentage because the US census—"

"Reid. Reid!" Garcia cut him off. "Rhetorical question, boy wonder."

"Oh. Sorry," Reid murmured sheepishly.

"You'll do great," Garcia said encouragingly. "And I'll be around for those times when she desperately needs a woman to talk to."

"Why would she desperately need a woman to talk to?"

Garcia laughed again. "For such a talented profiler, you can be so adorably clueless sometimes. Trust me on this. She's about to become a teenager, and there are things she will not want to discuss with a guy."

"Um…okay." Reid glanced into the house and cleared his throat. "Well, if you hear from the rest of the team, tell Gideon I need to talk to him. I've got to go deal with paperwork."

"Will do. Good luck." Garcia hung up.