Upon the Son, for nebula99, Hotch/Reid, R
Title: Upon the Son
Author/Artist: daylyn
Recipient: nebula99
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Rating: FRM / R
Word Count: ~ 9,750
Warnings/spoilers: References to events in episode 4.07 "Memoriam" specifically and to Season 5 (and 6) generally. Case fic - violence, sex, mentions of past neglect and abuse.
Summary/prompt:
Prompt 4: Something post-Memoriam. Reid hasn't forgiven his father for leaving and he never will. Maybe a confrontation with William or a discussion with someone else - but no joyful reunion please.
Also a little bit of:
Prompt 5: Reid being pissy, angry, bitchy - he lashes out at someone, shocking other team members. Hotch is not impressed.
A/N: Many thanks to my awesome betas for their invaluable suggestions. You all seriously rock. Happy holidays to nebula99; I hope you enjoy!
Aaron Hotchner suppressed a sigh as he looked over the case file once more. He knew this case was going to be bad; someone was murdering fathers and sons. Three pairs so far. Young boys, all around five. (Jack's age, his mind supplied unhelpfully.) He wondered if the desperate fathers had to watch their son's die. Based on the preliminary profile the team had compiled, they believed so.
Hotch glanced around the jet at his team. They seemed on edge. Cases involving children were always difficult, always upsetting. His gaze was returned by Spencer Reid, his lover of the past six months. Spencer's look was concerned, questioning. Aaron knew that most people believed that Spencer did not pick up on social cues and that he sometimes lacked an understanding of emotions outside the workings of a case. But Aaron had found that Spencer read him better than anyone had ever done in his life. Part of that was terrifying - to be so well known to someone else; yet most of it was comforting - to know that someone saw him for whom he really was and was there for him regardless.
Aaron gave Spencer a slight reassuring nod and a hint of a smile. Spencer nodded in return. They both returned their attention to the files in front of them.
This time Aaron did sigh. He wondered how his team would cope, how much they were being asked to sacrifice, emotionally, again and again. It was December 21st and it looked like it would be yet another holiday that they spent away from home, focused on someone else's family and far away from their own. He knew that it was only a matter of time that someone on the team would 'lose it' during case.
He just had no idea that it would be Spencer Reid.
*
The jet arrived in Reno, Nevada. With a population 220,500, it was the fourth most populous city in Nevada, Reid had earnestly supplied. Known as "The Biggest Little City in the World", it was famous for its casinos. Hotch made a mental note to try and keep Prentiss out of them once the case had wrapped. If the case wrapped up, that was.
Reno was across the California border and 22 miles away from Lake Tahoe (Reid had informed them) and thus also boasted a slew of outdoor recreational activities including skiing. Two of the fathers had been dressed in ski jackets, and all the families had been skiing on the day of their disappearance, although they had not been to the same resort. It was unclear if this was a coincidence or an important crucial link, since many winter visitors to the Reno/Tahoe area were there for the skiing.
The FBI field office had provided the requisite black SUV's and the team drove to the police station. The lead detective, Robert Gastin, was waiting for them.
"We're glad you're here," he said as he shook Hotch's hand, and Hotch could hear the sincerity in his voice. No one liked cases involving children, which was why the local Reno police probably sought federal assistance.
"Anything we can do to help," Hotch assured him.
As Detective Gastin was showing them where they could work, Hotch made the introductions, ending with, "… and Doctor Spencer Reid."
Reid gave his awkward little wave, already looking at the whiteboard with longing, ready to set up.
The detective frowned. "You're William Reid's son?"
Every member of the BAU froze, their eyes flicking back and forth between the local officer and Reid. As for Reid, he spun around, eyes wide. He licked his lips nervously. "Excuse me?" he asked quietly.
The only one who did not seem affected by the rise in tension was Detective Gastin. "William Reid? He's an attorney in Vegas. I used to work down there. We were neighbors. We went to church together; he came to a few of my barbeques, helped out at some of my son's Little League games. He's a good man. He told me his son was with the FBI. That must be you. He'll be so excited to hear that I finally got to meet you in person."
Hotch glanced at his team. Prentiss seemed to be shrinking back. Morgan was taking a deep breath. Rossi frowned as he looked at Reid, who in turn looked horrified.
Hotch could see anger spark in Spencer's eyes.
"William Reid spoke about me?" Reid asked, slowly and carefully.
"Of course. Your father is very proud of you."
"Oh Christ," Morgan muttered under his breath. Hotch was sure that he was the only one who caught it.
"How about we just get set up?" Rossi said firmly, right before Aaron managed to. Rossi stepped toward the conference room, obviously hoping that Reid would follow.
Reid stood as if frozen. The detective frowned. "What is it?" he asked, finally picking up on the tension.
"William Reid has no right to be proud of me," Reid said, his voice low, controlled. Hotch could hear the suppressed anger in his words.
"He's your father," Detective Gastin said, obviously confused.
"He forfeited any right to that title a long time ago."
"Now look. I don't know what your issues are with your dad, but he's a good man who always spoke highly of you. He has valuable insights; he even helped me out with a few issues I was having with my own boys. I'm sure that if you just bothered to talk to him this could all be worked out, son."
"Don't. Call. Me. Son. You have no right to do so, nor does William Reid. The decision to 'talk to him' was taken out of my control when he abandoned my mother and I when I was 10 years old. The only interaction I have had with him after that was to accuse him of being a murdering pedophile while investigating a cold case. In fairness, he wasn't, although he did have information about the case. Anything he told you about me is because he looked it up on the Internet, since he has had no communication with me."
The detective stood silently, surprised by Reid's vehemence.
Rossi gently touched Reid's arm. "Come on, Reid, let's get set up. We have a case that needs our attention. I'm sure your father didn't mean anything wrong when he spoke of you."
Reid yanked his arm away. "You too? You're going to defend him? You were there during that whole Riley Jenkins debacle. I would have thought that you, of all people, would support me." Reid shook his head, his expression one of betrayal as he pressed on. "I thought you would have my back. I thought you would care. I thought better of you, Dave."
Rossi opened his mouth to say something. Hotch knew he had to put a stop to this before it got completely out of hand. "Reid," he snapped authoritatively, effectively ending all conversation. Hotch looked around quickly and saw an empty, private office. He stepped toward it. "In here. Now."
Reid looked like he was going to argue but instead released his breath explosively. He slowly made his way to the office. Hotch shut the door once they were both inside.
"Don't you dare," Reid snapped as Hotch turned to face him. "Don't you dare tell me that I shouldn't be pissed off."
Hotch said nothing. He was torn between wanting to be the comforting lover and needing to be the strict boss. He thought that in some ways letting Spencer vent his anger might be the best way to handle both.
"What? Am I supposed to be fucking grateful that William Reid kept tabs on me?" Spencer continued, his agitation growing. "He's not a 'real father', not one who cares. He donated his biological makeup, nothing more. Thanks to you and Jack, I now know how a father is supposed to act. And William Reid is far from it." Spencer finished, his chest heaving, and he glared at Hotch.
Hotch stood there, a part of him admiring his lover for his passion and anger. But he knew that this was not the time or place. They had a case. Personal emotions had to be put aside. Hotch knew from first-hand experience just how hard that was. They needed Reid's mind in the game, not going over past hurts that could not be easily resolved.
"Are you done?" Hotch asked, his voice stern.
Spencer looked at him, hurt, anger, bewilderment, betrayal reflected in his eyes. Then, suddenly, sadness and resignation. Reid seemed to almost deflate. "This really isn't the right time for me to be in a crisis, is it?"
"No."
Reid squared his shoulders although Hotch could see that it took an immense amount of effort. "Let me get back out there and build a geographical profile. We have enough information and…"
"Spencer," Hotch said gently and stepped toward the younger man. He grasped Reid's upper arms and could feel the almost instinctive flinch. He refused to let go. He stroked Spencer's cheek, unable to watch his lover struggle alone, again. "For what it's worth," Hotch said softly, "I agree with you. I have a great deal of anger toward your father for what he did to you. But we can't fix it here."
Spencer nodded and then suddenly embraced Aaron, squeezing him tightly. "I didn't realize I was still so upset, that I still let him affect me so much," Spencer said, his voice muffled against Aaron's neck.
"It's all right. It's understandable. We just can't address it now."
Spencer nodded and pulled away. He headed toward the door.
"Reid," Hotch said, his voice again taking on the authority of the Unit Chief. "I'm going to have to insist that you apologize to Detective Gastin. We need his cooperation on this case."
Reid nodded, almost absently. "I was planning to."
Hotch felt his heart warm with pride.
"And to Rossi," Reid continued. "I… can't believe I snapped at him." He gave a snort, half amused, half disgusted. "Talk about transference."
"I'm sure he'll be fine," Aaron said gently.
*
Later, much later, the team had reconvened back in the conference room at the police station. They had examined the sites where the bodies were found, spoken to the victims' families who were still in the area, and tried to determine what the victims had been doing the day prior to their disappearance. Garcia checked for overlapping employees between the different ski resorts and, while there were some, none of them seemed to fit the preliminary profile of the UnSub that they had created. Furthermore, those employees had not worked on the days that the dead families had visited the resorts.
Hotch could feel the frustration and exhaustion emanating from his team.
Reid kept staring at the map as if he expected it to tell him something. Hotch realized that he probably did.
"C'mon," Hotch said tiredly. "Let's head over to the hotel and get some sleep."
The team rose slowly. Reid continued to look at the map.
"Reid? You coming?"
"What? Oh, yeah."
"What do you see?" Rossi asked, because they all learned to pay attention when something caught the younger agent's attention like that.
"Nothing, really. There's an overlap in the in this area, but that could just be because of the concentration of retail shops and hotels."
"You think there's some connection there?" Morgan asked.
Reid shrugged. "I don't know."
"Let's all get back to the hotel and get some sleep," Hotch said decisively. "Maybe it will make more sense in the morning."
Reid nodded and stood, reluctantly. Prentiss was about to open the door to the conference room when Reid said, "Rossi?"
Rossi turned to look at Spencer. "Yeah, Reid."
Hotch noticed that the rest of the team was trying to look as unobtrusive as possible.
"I'm sorry," Reid stammered, "about… before. I'm just… you know… sorry." Reid looked everywhere but directly at Rossi.
Rossi came over and clasped his shoulder. Spencer looked up, startled. "It's okay," Rossi said with a slight smile. "Really. It's fine."
Reid gave him a half smile.
Rossi squeezed Reid's shoulder and then let go. "Just know that I've got your back, kiddo. Whenever you need it."
Reid bit his lip and nodded. "Thanks."
*
Rossi and Prentiss returned from the hotel front desk, room key cards in hand. "They only had three rooms available," Prentiss explained, "seeing as it's the beginning of the skiing season and only a few days before Christmas."
"Morgan, you're with me," Rossi said in a tone that brooked no argument, handing the other man a key card. Morgan blinked, but followed Rossi nonetheless.
Prentiss handed Hotch and Reid each a key. "These are for you."
When they got to the room, Hotch was surprised to find that there was only one bed. While the team knew about his relationship with Reid, it was something that they never spoke about. He was a bit taken aback by the obvious acknowledgment.
Reid stopped at the door, blinked in surprise, and then shrugged. "Do you want the bathroom first, or should I get ready for the night?"
"You go first. I have some paperwork to fill out."
Reid nodded and took his go-bag into the bathroom. Hotch heard him run the shower.
Hotch called Prentiss. "You want to explain the sleeping arrangements?" he asked her without preamble when she answered.
"They had three rooms, Hotch. Two with one bed, one with double beds. Rossi and I figured it was better this way. It was either this or you could share a bed with Rossi."
Hotch snorted. "No thank you. He snores and probably kicks. But still, I…" He was unsure how to express his discomfort.
"Don't worry about it, Hotch. Reid could probably use someone to talk to and, with this type of case, you probably could too."
Sometimes, Hotch thought, it sucked working with profilers. "All right," he said instead of answering. "Good night then."
"So, they set us up," Reid said, coming into the room. He was wearing a tee-shirt and sweats, and his hair was damp from the shower, glasses perched on his nose.
"Prentiss claims this was the only room available."
"I'm sorry. If you're uncomfortable, we can call Rossi and Morgan and…"
"No, Reid. I'd definitely rather share a room… and bed… with you."
"But still, it's the team knowing."
Hotch nodded. They were both private men after all. Hotch looked a little more closely at Reid. He looked tired and a bit dejected. "Are you all right?" Hotch asked.
Reid shrugged. "I'm fine."
He gave a half smile. It appeared that Reid had the same definition of 'fine' that Hotch had, the one he used over and over again when things were, in fact, not 'fine'. "You sure?"
Reid nodded.
Hotch walked over and kissed Reid softly. He could feel Reid's momentary surprise, and then he melted into the kiss.
"Why don't you get ready for bed?" Reid said, pushing Hotch away gently when they finally broke apart.
Hotch took a quick shower and returned to find Reid lying in bed, already asleep. Hotch took a moment to observe him. Despite their relationship, they actually had not shared a bed for the night all that often. Reid would not stay the entire night at Hotch's place, both of them deciding that they were not ready to address Jack's inevitable questions if Spencer was there in the morning. Hotch had only been to Reid's place rarely, as he usually preferred to spend the night at home if they were in town so he could have Jack there. And they never spent the night together when they were on a case. Well, until tonight.
Hotch sighed and crawled into bed, turning off the lamp.
Spencer murmured and shifted closer, then froze as if almost unsure of his welcome.
Hotch kissed him and drew him closer, enjoying the other man's warmth. Reid relaxed and nestled into Hotch's shoulder, letting out a contented sigh. Hotch settled into a comfortable position. He briefly regretted that he and Spencer didn't share a bed together more often, but then sleep overcame him before he had a chance to think more.
The ringing of his phone a few hours later caused him to jolt awake unpleasantly. "Hotchner," he said groggily.
"It's Gastin. Another father and son are missing."
Hotch suppressed a curse under his breath. "I'll round up my team. We'll be there shortly."
Spencer had put on his glasses and was blinking at Hotch owlishly. "More bodies?" he asked in a flat voice.
"Not yet. But we've got two more missing people."
"He's escalating. And going far too fast as it is. Three abductions about a week apart, and now this one with only a few days of a cooling off period."
"He's devolving," Hotch said.
"Damn."
*
Within 45 minutes, the BAU team met with Detective Gastin at the police station. "Harry Merino and his eight-year-old son Kevin disappeared from the Mt. Rose Ski Resort parking lot yesterday evening. His wife, Cynthia, was waiting for them to get the car so they could pack in their ski equipment, but they never came back."
"Had they spent the day at the resort?" Morgan asked.
"The afternoon. They had gotten into town late last night from Los Angeles and had a late start this morning."
"What did they do prior to skiing?"
The detective consulted his notes. "Breakfast at a diner. Shopping to pick up some necessities since they were renting a cabin. It looks like they stopped at a ski store and then headed out to the slopes."
"This is the first time someone has gone missing from a resort, right?" Prentiss asked.
"Yes, two of the other pairs disappeared while out on the street. One pair went missing from their hotel garage."
"So, is the UnSub targeting these fathers and sons specifically, or is it a question of opportunity?" Rossi mused.
"And is there a skiing connection?" Prentiss added.
"None of the overlapping resort employees seemed to have any connection to the Merinos. Two of them were working at other resorts, and the other one was working in ski rentals. It seems that this family had their own skis; in fact, they had even gotten some additional equipment when they went shopping earlier in the day."
"Where did they shop?" Reid suddenly chimed in.
"Reno Sports and Skis," the detective informed him. "Located right next to Fitzgerald's Casino, which is closed down."
Reid blinked and then went to the map to check out the location. "Had any of the other families been there?" he asked.
"I… don't know," Detective Gastin admitted. "You think there's a connection."
"I'm not sure. But this location is right in the center of all the disappearances."
"Reid, check and see if the other families went to that store and work on that link," Hotch stated. "Detective, how long does the UnSub keep his victims alive after abducting them?"
"We found the other victims about two to three days after they had gone missing, and it seems that he keeps them alive for one to two days."
"Is it one or two?" Hotch demanded. "That makes quite a difference."
"About 36 to 48 hours."
"All right. We don't have much time. We need to give the profile."
"How?" the detective asked. "What do we know?"
"Well," Rossi said, "we know that the UnSub's organized. He has to be to abduct the victims from public places and to keep them for a few days."
"How is he abducting them?" Gastin asked.
"Probably by threatening the son, which would render the father more tractable," Prentiss said. "The fathers would probably try to do anything to protect their children."
Hotch appreciated that no one from the team looked at him after Prentiss' statement.
"We also know that the UnSub is white, based upon the victimology," Morgan added. "He's probably young, 20 to 30 years old, and likely has major 'daddy issues'."
"There's no sign of sexual abuse, so this isn't sexually motivated" Prentiss said.
"Small mercies," Rossi added.
"The UnSub has another reason for what he's doing," Prentiss continued. "There are different methods of killing for the two victims. The fathers are bound, beaten, and then shot, while the sons have their throats slit. Different methods, different reasons."
"He might view the throat slashing as a mercy killing," Reid added, "as it is quicker. He seems to want to torture the fathers more than the children. That definitely plays into his psychological disorder concerning his father and suggests a background of domestic abuse."
Hotch stood. "Prentiss and Reid, I want you to give the profile with me and then determine the ski shop connection, if there is one. Rossi and Morgan, you head out to the latest abduction site and see what you can find."
*
About an hour later, Reid approached Hotch. "All the families visited that same ski shop within a day or two before disappearing," Reid said. "Garcia is running down the information on all the employees and vendors now, and Prentiss is talking to Mrs. Merino to see if she noticed anything out of the ordinary there."
"Good job. Let me know what you find."
Prentiss came up to them. "I think we may have something." A scared-looking woman stood beside her. "Just tell them what you told me, Mrs. Merino."
"I don't see how this is important," she protested. "It's not as if Harry did anything wrong."
"We're not saying he did, ma'am. We're just trying to determine if anything unusual happened. Just tell them about the ski shop."
"Well, you know, Harry was a little tired from the long drive from L.A., and Kevin, he was a bit rambunctious. He's eight; he can be a handful. And he was full of energy, running around. Harry just wanted him to stop, you know. So, he yelled at him a bit and grabbed him. Nothing too hard. But then this sales guy came up to us and told Harry to leave Kevin alone, that he didn't know the damage he was causing, that he'd make Harry stop if he had to. Harry got pissed and threatened to call the manager, but the guy just took off."
"Did you get his name?" Hotch asked.
Mrs. Merino shook her head no.
"Can you describe what he looks like?"
"Maybe. It was pretty quick."
"Thank you," Hotch told her. "You've been most helpful. Prentiss, have Detective Gastin set Mrs. Merino up with a sketch artist."
"Are you going to get my family back?" the mother asked, her fear evident.
"I promise you, ma'am, that we are doing everything we can."
Prentiss led her away.
Hotch looked over at Reid. "I'm going to have Morgan and Rossi stop by the shop. I take it Garcia is running background information on the employees."
Reid nodded. "Prentiss and I will follow up with the families of the other victims. They all went to that shop; I want to find out if something happened."
"Tactfully."
Reid blinked. "Of course."
He headed to the conference room where the BAU team had set up. Detective Gastin stopped Reid as he got to the door and it was obvious that Gastin had something personal to say to the younger agent. Hotch moved closer so as to monitor the situation.
"Dr. Reid," the detective said. "I just wanted to let you know that I spoke to your father to let him know I met you. He'd like to speak to you."
Hotch could see Reid still and then take a deep breath. "Detective, please. While I appreciate your concern, it's really inappropriate. This is not a good time."
"I know. But I thought, you know, ''tis the season' and all that. Working on a case with fathers and sons, maybe it was time to reconcile."
"I've worked on plenty of cases involving children and their parents. None of them have ever made we want to have contact with William Reid, including this one."
"But-"
"Detective Gastin, a father and son are at the mercy of a spiraling psychopath. We have less than 24 hours before the UnSub kills his latest victims. Our focus here is on the Merinos, not the Reids." Spencer quickly walked away.
Hotch followed him into the conference room and touched his arm. Reid shot him a quick look and gave him a wan smile. His phone rang.
"It's Garcia." Reid answered. "You're on speaker, Garcia."
Prentiss stepped into the office as Garcia began to speak. "I've been going over the employee rosters and I think I have your psychopath du jour. Tommy Brimmer was placed into foster care when he was 12. Seems that his father was imprisoned for beating Tommy almost to death. Oh, and his mother disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Her body was found years later with her throat slit. Tommy's father was the prime suspect, but they were never able to connect the crime to him."
"Beating and throat slitting? Sounds like our guy," Prentiss said.
"I'll tell Rossi and Morgan to look for him specifically," Hotch said. "Keep digging, Garcia."
"On it, sir." Garcia hung up.
"So why is he physically assaulting the fathers?" Prentiss mused.
"The UnSub wants the fathers to experience what he went through," Reid answered. "The helplessness, the vulnerability. Especially if they were trying to protect their sons, they would feel especially powerless if they couldn't."
Hotch swallowed hard, refusing to acknowledge to himself how he felt with Jack. "And the throat cutting?" he asked instead.
"The UnSub probably witnessed his mother's death. He's trying to recreate that somehow."
Hotch's phone rang. "Go ahead, Rossi," he answered.
"Tommy Brimmer isn't at the shop. His manager said he had been working today, but it seems he slipped out when we got here. He must have seen us walk in or something. He's got to be in the general area."
"Okay, hold tight. Let me get Garcia to find out his car make and possible location."
Reid was already dialing. "Garcia, Tommy Brimmer just took off. Any idea what he would be driving or where he's going?"
"He doesn't have a car registered in his name," Garcia's voice said through the phone. "But… here's the thing. His home address is in an apartment complex."
"Not convenient for keeping victims," Hotch said.
"That's what I thought," Garcia agreed. "So I was checking out other possibilities. Seems that the father owned a warehouse which shut down a few years ago due to the economy. It's abandoned. Oh, and Daddy Dearest died a few months back from lung cancer; Tommy Brimmer was listed as his only kin, but there are actually police reports of the father threatening to shoot the son because he was pissed off about the quality of his medical care."
"His father's death… that's the stressor," Prentiss pointed out.
"That and the repeated abuse. Brimmer has all sorts of unresolved issues," Hotch agreed.
"I've sent you the address for the warehouse location," Garcia informed them.
Hotch looked at Reid and Prentiss. "Let's go. I'll go tell Gastin and have Rossi and Morgan meet us there."
*
Hotch drove the black SUV with Prentiss beside him and Reid in the backseat. They had donned their Kevlar vests and were strategizing over the best methods to enter the building based on blueprints that Garcia had sent them. Reid's phone rang.
He answered it absently. "Reid," he said, still concentrating on the blueprints. He dropped the blueprints and gasped in surprise. "Dad?"
Hotch and Prentiss exchanged a quick look.
"What are you doing calling this number?" There was silence as Reid listened to the response.
"Detective Gastin gave it to you? That's… interesting." There was another pause followed by, "No, this really isn't a good time to talk…"
The one-sided conversation went one, with brief silences when William Reid was obviously speaking. "You're upset that I spoke to Gastin?" Spencer said. "Actually, Father, he spoke to me.… Let me see if I understand this. You're annoyed that I might be ruining your reputation?… Then how did you mean it?… Dad, while I appreciate that you want to catch up on family business which you've ignored for the past 19 years, I wasn't kidding when I said this isn't a good time. I'm about to infiltrate a warehouse where a serial killer is holding a father and eight-year-old boy hostage. My first priority is to get the victims out alive, if they're not already dead. Then I'm concentrating on getting my team out alive. Unhurt would be fantastic, but not dead is pretty damn important. I'd prefer it if the UnSub also made it out alive, but that's not always an option. So, Dad, I don't really have time to chat right now. I'm a little busy at the moment." Reid hung up the phone.
Hotch looked at Reid in the rearview mirror, and could clearly see the agitation in the younger man's face. "You all right, Reid?"
"Fine."
Prentiss shot Hotch a look of disbelief. Hotch hated what he was about to do, but knew he had no choice. "Reid, I need to know that your head is in this current situation and that you're not distracted."
"I said I'm fine."
"I need to know that you can put aside that phone call. I need you to assure me that you can." Hotch watched in the mirror as Reid took a deep breath and then stilled his features into a blank mask.
"What phone call?" Reid asked, his voice relatively calm.
"I'm sorry, Spencer," he said softly, his voice that of a lover instead of a strict boss. "I wish…" he trailed off.
"I know, Aaron," Spencer replied, matching his tone. "I'll process it later. Right now we have a job to do." He then smiled briefly at Prentiss, who reached back and squeezed his hand. Hotch was warmed by the fact that Spencer let her.
They arrived at the warehouse, Rossi and Morgan a few moments behind. Detective Gastin was there with two patrol cars. "SWAT's on its way," he said, "but it will take a few minutes."
"We'll go in first," Hotch told him. "Send in SWAT on my signal."
Hotch looked at his team, looked at Reid. All of them were focused, all ready to go. "Morgan, Rossi, you take the back. Prentiss, Reid, you're with me."
They all nodded. Morgan and Rossi took off.
Hotch waited until they indicated they were in place. He looked at his two companions. "Let's do this."
Hotch, Reid, and Prentiss slipped in through a side door. The corridor was dark and musty smelling. Hotch held a flashlight with his gun, illuminating the deserted area.
He looked at Reid, whom he knew had memorized the blueprints. Reid pointed to the left. Hotch headed in that direction, Prentiss and Reid close behind. They came to another hallway; Reid indicated that they should follow it.
There was a door at the end of the hall. "This should open up into the main warehouse," Reid breathed. "Beyond it should be a storage area; there shouldn't be any structural barriers."
Hotch nodded. Prentiss grabbed the door and yanked it open. Hotch swiftly entered and saw a large space, with shelves and assorted debris that looked like it had been left behind when the company folded. There seemed to be a source of light straight ahead, as if it were coming from a single bulb. He could hear voices.
Reid and Prentiss acknowledged silently that they could hear it too.
Suddenly a scream rang out. "Daddy! No! Leave him alone!"
"Go," Hotch commanded. "Rossi, Morgan, southwest quadrant," he informed them as he ran toward the sound. They rounded the corner to find one man chained to a wall while another wielded a baseball bat. A young boy was tied to the wall a few feet away and sobbing.
"FBI!" Prentiss shouted as they charged into the room. "Tommy Brimmer, drop your weapon."
Tommy Brimmer quickly dropped the bat and brandished a long, sharp knife that had been lying on the floor. He grabbed Kevin as a shield, yanking him to his feet and pressing the knife to the boy's jugular. "Don't move, kid, or else you die," Brimmer told him. Hotch could see the little boy was shaking.
"Leave my son alone," Harry pled, trying to move his broken body toward his child. "Please, just leave him alone."
"Shut up!" Brimmer shouted.
"Tommy Brimmer," Hotch's tone was calm yet icy, "drop your weapon and let the boy go."
Hotch could sense Rossi and Morgan arrive. All of his agents had their guns trained on the UnSub.
"No!" Brimmer shouted. "I'm saving him."
"You're doing no such thing," Morgan said.
"Yes, I am. Saving him from a fate far worse than death."
"What fate is that?" Hotch asked, trying to keep the UnSub calm, to keep him talking.
"From growing up with an abusive, abandoning, son-of-a-bitch father."
"I would never-" Harry Merino began to protest.
"Shut up!" the UnSub yelled again, moving the knife tighter on Kevin's neck. The little boy cried out in pain. A trickle of blood ran down his neck.
"Tommy, you don't know that Mr. Merino is abusive," Reid said, his voice soothing, calming.
"I do. I saw him. He was just like all the others."
"The others, Tommy?" Reid asked. Hotch could see Brimmer getting agitated from the questions. They might be able to use that distraction.
"The others," Brimmer said, focusing on Reid. "I saw them in the shop, yelling at their sons, shaking them, scaring them. They had to die. I could see what the fathers were going to do to their kids, the hurt and pain they would cause. I only took the ones who needed saving. The ones whose fathers would abuse and abandon the boys until there was nothing but an empty shell left."
"I wouldn't," Harry Merino whimpered.
"Why did the boys have to die?" Reid asked with genuine interest, keeping Brimmer's attention on him while Hotch and the others inched closer.
"I couldn't leave them abandoned in this world, could I? Do you even know what happens when you're abandoned? The fear, the loneliness, the other abuse? It was kinder this way. There's always pain, always terror."
"I know what it's like to be abandoned," Reid confessed. He holstered his gun and held his hands up.
Brimmer gaped at Reid, obviously stunned at Reid's admission and actions, the knife slipping slightly away from Kevin's neck. The boy closed his eyes and tried not to move. Hotch could see he was stifling his sobs.
"Your father abandoned you?" Tommy asked Reid.
"Yes."
"It's always the father, isn't it? Did he hit you? Yell at you?"
"No, not like yours. I was lucky in that respect."
"Then you don't know what it's like," Brimmer said dismissively, pulling Kevin tightly to him. He suddenly noticed that the other agents were approaching. "Don't come any closer," he warned.
"I do know what it's like," Reid insisted, his voice surprisingly calm. "Did my father hit me? No. But my father just ran out on me and my mother when I was 10, leaving me to care for her. She was very sick. She couldn't take care of herself. We had no other family in town. I was all alone. I was scared. No one came to help me. The worst part? I found out, years later, that he lived 10 minutes from me but he never tried to help."
"I didn't like being alone," Tommy whispered brokenly.
"I know. I didn't like it either."
"That's why I went back to my Dad. When he got out of jail, I thought it would be different. I just wanted him to be proud of me, but he never was."
"I know," Reid said softly. "I kept hoping that my father would hear about my accomplishments, tell me he was proud, let me know that he was thinking of me. But he never did. Years later I found out that he did know what I had done. But he still couldn't be bothered to find me, to tell me."
"All I wanted to do was protect these boys from what I went through."
"This isn't the answer, Tommy. You know it's not."
"My father killed my mother, you know. I watched him slice her throat. It was a mercy killing, he said. It was quick and then the pain was gone. I always envied her that escape. He told me I wouldn't die that way. If I told anyone, he would beat me and abandon me in the woods until I died out there, lost, lonely, alone. That's what he said. And he meant it."
"I know, Tommy. But this dad isn't going to hurt his son."
"All fathers are the same," Tommy insisted.
"No, they're not," Reid said gently. "I've seen that they can be different. Very different. I've seen dads who protect their sons with every ounce of their being."
Brimmer shook his head. "No."
"Yes," Reid insisted. "I bet if you let Kevin go, he'd run right to his dad. Would you have done that? Would I have? No. But Kevin?" Kevin looked at Reid pleadingly. "He will."
"I'm just trying to save them," Tommy whispered. "From a horrible fate."
"I know," Reid told him. "But this isn't the way. You know that you're not getting out of here. You know that we're not going to let you hurt anyone else."
Brimmer looked around and blinked as if just noticing how close the FBI team had gotten to him, and how many guns were pointed at his head.
"Let Kevin go," Reid said, very softly. "Give him the chance you never had."
Tommy complied and crumpled to the floor as Kevin ran, as Reid predicted, to his father.
Morgan and Hotch moved in to secure the UnSub, kicking the knife away and pulling him to his feet. He offered no resistance. Rossi and Prentiss rushed to the father, releasing him from his bindings and calling for the paramedics. He threw his arms around his son, ignoring his own pain to hold the boy tightly.
Hotch informed Detective Gastin that the UnSub was captured and that they needed an ambulance for the father and son.
Brimmer looked at the hugging pair. He then looked at Reid. "I wish he had killed me," he said. "My father. I wish he hadn't left me with this all-consuming emptiness. It's all I have, my hate. It's the only thing that kept me alive. But it destroyed me."
"And it destroyed many others, too," Reid said quietly as the police led Brimmer off.
Hotch went up to him. "Are you all right?"
Reid nodded and then looked over at the Harry Merino and his son. The father was now on a stretcher, paramedics tending to his wounds. Kevin lay on top of him and Harry wouldn't let anyone separate them.
"That's what's important, isn't it?" Spencer said to Hotch, nodding at the family. "That's why we do what we do."
"You did well, Dr. Reid," Hotch said, giving his agent a rare at-work smile.
The father had the paramedics stop as they were wheeling him out. He grabbed Reid's hand; Reid started but didn't pull away. "Thank you," he croaked. "Thank you for saving my son. And me."
*
The team returned to the police station to clean up their base of operations, grateful that they were not being forced to take the red eye back to Quantico, especially as it had started to snow. Hotch noticed that Reid went out of his way to avoid Gastin.
Finally the detective had approached Hotch. "Look, I know it isn't my place-"
"No, it isn't," Hotch said firmly.
"I'm just trying to help," Gastin insisted. "William Reid is a good man. I'm sure if they just talked, they could work things out."
"I know you think you're trying to help, but your actions were far from appropriate. They actually created a distraction which threatened to actively interfere with this case. This is Dr. Reid's life and his complicated relationship to resolve, or not, as he sees fit. He's entitled to make his own decisions, without interference or unnecessary pressure."
Gastin swallowed hard. He glanced over to where Reid was standing with Morgan, packing up the files. "He seems like a good guy."
"He is. One of the best I know," Hotch said.
"He really should get to know his father."
Hotch gave the detective a hard stare. "That's not your place, or even my place, to decide."
The detective nodded, but wouldn't meet Hotch's eyes. "Thanks for all your assistance." They shook hands quickly and Gastin walked away.
When they reached their hotel that night, Spencer stood by the window in their room, watching the falling snow. Hotch went up to him and put his arms around his waist, pressing his chest into Spencer's back. Spencer relaxed into his lover's embrace. Hotch kissed his neck gently and then placed his chin on Spencer's shoulder, looking out at the snow with him.
"You all right?" Hotch asked quietly.
Spencer nodded. "Sometimes it still surprises me, all the violent patterns that abuse perpetuates. It can be a never-ending cycle."
"It can be broken," Hotch insisted.
Spencer kissed his cheek. "Yes. But you're also incredibly strong, Aaron. And a very good man." He went back to looking out the window.
Hotch knew that the team had deduced his own abusive past; they were profilers after all, and some behavior patterns just couldn't be hidden. However, he never spoke of it with any of them, not even Spencer. Now, he just pulled him closer.
Spencer's phone rang. "Are you kidding me?" he groaned.
"Your father?" Hotch asked.
"Yeah."
"You don't have to answer it."
"I'm better off just handling it now. Otherwise he'll continue to bother me."
"I'll give you some privacy." Hotch made to walk away.
Spencer grabbed his arm. "No. Stay." Spencer's eyes suddenly looked exceptionally vulnerable. "Please."
"Of course."
Spencer flipped open the phone and hit the 'speaker' button so that Hotch could listen in. "Reid."
"Spencer, it's your father."
"What do you want?"
"When I spoke to you today, you made it sound like your life was in danger. I thought you would let me know what happened. That would have been the polite thing to do. I had to find out from Detective Gastin that you were okay."
Spencer closed his eyes. "You've never inquired as to my well being before."
"Is your life frequently in danger?"
"Yes, Dad, actually it is. I catch serial killers. It's a dangerous job. I've been kidnapped, held hostage, and exposed to explosives, various firearms, and knives. I've even been shot. So, yes, my life is frequently in danger which, if you actually knew me, you'd know."
There was a moment of silence.
"I had no idea," William Reid eventually said.
"I know," Spencer replied.
"Don't you think your job is too dangerous?"
"Dad, you don't get to question my life choices in a five minute phone conversation more than 19 years after you walked out on me. Again, what do you want?"
"I was thinking that maybe we should try and clear the air between us."
"Why now?"
"Well, Detective Gastin said you seemed at bit… resentful… toward me. I'd like to let him know that I took his advice and am trying to work this out."
Spencer stared at the phone for a few moments. Hotch squeezed his shoulder.
"You're worried about your reputation, aren't you, Dad? You want to be able to tell Gastin that you did everything to solve the problem."
"It's not my reputation I'm worried about!"
"Then what is it? You had no interest in 'clearing the air' two years ago when I saw you. Or at any other time, for that matter. Why now?"
"Spencer, I did the best I could. I don't expect you to understand that."
"The best you could? You did nothing at all."
"That's not fair."
"Yes, it is."
"Look, when you come see your mother for Christmas, why don't we meet and try and resolve some of this?"
Spencer looked stricken. He looked directly at Hotch, and then quickly down at the floor. "I hadn't been planning…"
"You're not going to see your mother for the holidays?"
Hotch could see Spencer's face tighten. His eyes turned hard and fiery. "Don't you dare question my relationship with Mom."
"Spencer, this is futile. Next time you're in Vegas, come and see me." William Reid hung up.
Spencer was actually shaking slightly, whether with anger, frustration, or hurt Hotch couldn't tell. He drew his lover in for a hug, holding Spencer tightly. Spencer resisted for a moment and then squeezed back just as hard. "He's never even said he was sorry," Spencer whispered into Hotch's neck. "Not once. He's never apologized for what he did."
Hotch kissed Spencer and then pulled him tight again. "You know, I sometimes wonder which is worse: abuse or abandonment. Both leave terrible wounds."
Spencer pulled back slightly, a puzzled look on his face. Hotch could tell that he was seriously considering the question. Before he could say that it was rhetorical, Spencer answered, "Abuse, I think, although they're often combined together. But abuse often perpetuates a continuing cycle of violence. Abandonment more often leads to feelings of worthlessness, but the damage is usually to oneself."
"Not always, though."
"No. Both definitely create problems."
"What are you going to do, Spencer?"
"I don't know. But maybe he's right that I should see Mom for Christmas. Especially since I'm here in Nevada. I could fly there for a few days and then head back to Virginia."
Hotch suppressed a pang of disappointment that Spencer was talking about missing their first Christmas together as a couple. He knew that Spencer's relationship with his mother was complicated, and he knew that Spencer would now spend the holiday feeling guilty if he didn't go and see her.
"You won't mind?" Spencer asked hesitantly.
Hotch shook his head. "Of course not. You need to see her."
"But you and Jack…I don't want to disappoint either of you."
Hotch kissed him. "We'll see you when you get back."
Spencer squeezed him tightly.
"Are you going to see you father when you're in Vegas?"
"I don't know. Part of me doesn't want to see him, the other part wants to march up to him and demand an apology and an explanation that makes sense. I don't think I'll ever get either. I did understand what the UnSub meant when he said he just wanted his father to be proud of him. I used to look for my father at my graduations, big events in my life, hoping that he would show. He never did."
"Sons are always looking for their father's approval. It hurts when you don't get it. No accomplishment was ever good enough for my father, either. I go out of my way to make sure that I never do that to Jack."
"May I ask you a question?"
"Of course. I don't know if I'll be able to answer it, emotionally anyway. But I'll try."
"Your brother Sean doesn't seem to have the same opinion of your father. That always struck me as… odd."
"And you want to know why?"
Spencer nodded. "Yes. But only if you want to tell me."
Hotch sighed. "You have to remember that Sean is quite a bit younger than me. He's actually closer to you in age than to me. I took to… protecting… Sean almost immediately, since my mother essentially lived in denial as to my father's habits of drinking and womanizing. And, of course, hitting me. I made sure that Sean was never alone with Dad. A few years after Sean was born, while I was still in high school, Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. He had no interest then in Sean, or even me. His heart gave out a few years later. Sean was, maybe, five. He really doesn't have many clear recollections of our father."
"So you essentially raised him."
Hotch nodded. "I would create stories for him about what Dad was like. I would even create 'family traditions' to follow so he'd feel a connection to his father. Our mother never questioned it. I think she was lost in her own grief and sense of denial for a long time and by the time she came out of it the behaviors were firmly ingrained."
"You created the father you always wanted for your brother."
"Yes. But I couldn't be the father he wanted. It was hard to live up to an ideal."
Spencer leaned over and kissed Hotch gently. He then pulled back and ran his fingers through Hotch's hair, down his cheek. "You are the best man I know, Aaron Hotchner."
Hotch snorted slightly. "Hardly."
Spencer shook his head. "You'll never convince me otherwise." Spencer then kissed him. Hotch found himself being maneuvered slowly but surely toward the bed. He lay down when they reached it, pulling Spencer on top of him.
"I don't want to talk about fathers anymore," Spencer breathed into his ear.
"Good plan."
"I've never identified with you as a father figure, by the way. Gideon, obviously. But you? I had a crush on you from the first moment I saw you."
"Oh," Hotch breathed and hitched his leg around Spencer's waist, flipping them over. "Still have a crush."
"Mmmm…" Spencer moaned. He thrust his hips up, seeking friction, their growing erections rubbing through their clothes. "It's far deeper than that now." He pulled Aaron toward him. "Far deeper."
"Subtle, Dr. Reid." Then Hotch unbuttoned Spencer's collar and started sucking, just below the collar line.
Spencer moaned and writhed underneath him. "Aaron," he whimpered. "Please. Don't stop."
They made love almost frantically, hurriedly removing each other's clothes. Aaron had taken a little time to kiss the surgical scars on Spencer's knee, nibble on his thighs, suck on his cock, but Spencer pulled him up so that Aaron was on top of him, stretched out, skin-to-skin. Spencer surprised Aaron by carrying lube in his messenger bag ("Hey, you never know when it might come in handy," was the explanation, and Aaron could hardly disagree since it was very handy indeed at that moment.) Aaron looked into Spencer's eyes as he pushed inside him and was surprised by the feelings overwhelming him. There was lust, surely, but also a strong sense of protectiveness toward the vulnerability he saw in Spencer's eyes. And, if Aaron was honest with himself, he felt love too, although he would not yet admit it out loud.
When they were done, he maneuvered until Spencer lay partially draped on top of him. Their breathing slowly headed back to normal. Aaron ran his fingers through Spencer's hair.
"Thank you," Spencer whispered, his voice already beginning to slur with sleep.
"For what?"
"For being here, with me, now, today. For supporting me."
"Always." Aaron kissed him. Spencer snuggled into Aaron's chest, his breath evening out as sleep overcame him.
Aaron felt warm and satisfied and, surprisingly, happy. He decided that he and Spencer really needed to share a bed more often.
*
Spencer stood outside the door, hesitating before reaching for the knocker. It was Christmas morning and Spencer was unsure of his welcome. He hadn't called the other man to let him know he was coming. Spencer forced himself to knock.
He waited for a few moments, wondering if he should have at least told the other man he was on his way. Spencer really didn't know what plans he had and was certain that he would be busy.
The door opened. He could see the look of surprise on Aaron's face. Spencer smiled awkwardly.
"Spencer," Aaron said. "I thought you were still in Vegas with your mom."
Spencer held up the presents he was carrying. He licked his lips nervously. "I didn't want to miss Christmas with you and Jack."
Spencer heard a voice from inside Aaron's home. "Who's at the door, Aaron?"
"If I'm interfering…."
"No!" Aaron said hurriedly. "Of course not." He opened the door and invited Spencer in.
Sean Hotchner was standing in the living room near the Christmas tree. "Spencer," Sean said warmly. "My brother said you were going to be in Las Vegas for the holiday."
"I took a red eye flight last night to get here. I just stopped by my place long enough to pick up the gifts and then I came here."
Aaron looked at him quizzically, but before he could ask any questions there was a commotion on the stairs. "Spencer," Jack cried out and ran down the stairs, flinging himself on Spencer's legs. Aaron reached out to steady him. "Did you bring me any presents?"
"Jack," Aaron admonished.
"What? He's carrying presents. Some of them must be for me."
"Of course they are," Spencer assured him.
"Why don't you go with your Uncle Sean to the kitchen for a moment," Aaron suggested, "and check on the cookies? Then we'll open the gifts a little later."
Jack ran into the kitchen in a way that only a kid hyped up on Christmas can manage. Sean shot Spencer and Aaron a quick smile and followed his nephew.
Aaron looked at Spencer, who was attempting not to squirm under the intense gaze. "Is everything all right?" Aaron asked.
Spencer nodded. "Yes."
"How's your mother?"
"Good, actually. She was fairly coherent most of the time I was there."
"Is that not always the case?"
"No, not always. But this time she was good."
"So… not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but why are you here?"
"You know, mom asked me the same question when I visited her. I'm beginning to think I'm not wanted."
Aaron gave him a steady look. "You're avoiding the question."
"Mom was happy to see me. She helped me to sort out some things concerning how I felt about my father. It was a good visit. But then… she reminded me that Christmas is about family. And children. My 'new family', she said. You. And Jack. She made me promise to get on a plane and come here. Since I really wanted to be with you, it all worked out."
Aaron looked at him for a moment and then drew him in for a quick embrace. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too."
Sean came back in and smiled at Spencer. "You're just in time for the tree ceremony."
"Tree ceremony?" Spencer asked as he followed the two brothers into the living room.
"Yeah. Aaron said it's a tradition my father used to do. The youngest one here - that's you, Jack," he said as he picked up his nephew, "puts the angel on top of the tree on Christmas morning." He handed Jack the ornament and lifted him so that he could place it on the tree. He then put Jack down and hit the lights. The tree and the angel shone brightly. Jack looked up at it in wonder. "It reminds us to stop and think about the true meaning of Christmas."
Spencer smiled. "This is something your father used to do?"
"That's what Aaron said."
Spencer met his lover's eyes. Aaron looked away quickly.
"That's a very nice tradition," he murmured. Aaron mouth quirked into a slight smile.
"Hey, Jack," Sean said, "you want to help me in the kitchen. The cookies are almost done."
Jack ran back to the kitchen.
Aaron and Spencer sat on the couch. Aaron took his hand. "So did you see your father?"
Spencer shook his head. "No. I decided not to this time. If I do decide to see him, I want it to be my decision, on my terms. I really don't owe him anything."
"No, you don't."
"But… I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days."
Aaron snorted. "When are you not?"
"True. But this time there were no dead bodies involved. I've come to some realizations, however."
"Which are?"
Spencer swallowed but then met Aaron's eyes. "I'm all in."
"With what?" Aaron asked, obviously confused.
"You. This. Us. Jack. I'm all in, Aaron. I was holding back, I think, scared that I would mess up, scared that I was like my dad. But I'm not. I'm not like my father. My mom tried to tell me that, but I came to the same realizations as well. I'm not going to abandon you. I'm not going to walk away, no matter how bad things get. I want you. I want this. I want us."
Aaron blinked a few times as if utterly surprised and then reached out and kissed Spencer fiercely.
"Do you have your go-bag with you?" Aaron asked when they finally broke apart.
"Of course. It's in my car. Why?"
"Stay here tonight."
"Um… isn't Sean going to be in your guest room?"
"Yes. Stay with me in my bed. I liked sleeping with you. I slept better with you beside me."
"But… what about Sean? Jack?"
"You're part of my family, Spencer. I want you here. We'll answer any questions they might have."
This time it was Spencer who pulled Aaron in for a kiss.
They heard the sound of a throat being cleared. They broke apart to find Sean watching them with a smirk on his face. Aaron just glared at his brother, which made Sean's grin wider.
Jack came up to Spencer and clambered into his lap, a battered book in hand. "Would you read me a story?" Jack asked, handing Spencer A Christmas Carol.
Spencer blinked in surprise. "Of course. This is a classic, you know."
"Aaron used to read it to us every Christmas," Sean said. "From the time I was five." The brother's exchanged a long gaze and a smile.
"I want Spencer to read it," Jack insisted.
"Of course," Aaron said. "I want to hear Spencer read it too." He put his arm around Spencer's shoulders, and Sean sat on the chair across from them.
Spencer looked at the tree, at the little boy in his lap, at his lover. He was happy. He was home. He opened the book and began to read.
Author/Artist: daylyn
Recipient: nebula99
Pairing: Hotch/Reid
Rating: FRM / R
Word Count: ~ 9,750
Warnings/spoilers: References to events in episode 4.07 "Memoriam" specifically and to Season 5 (and 6) generally. Case fic - violence, sex, mentions of past neglect and abuse.
Summary/prompt:
Prompt 4: Something post-Memoriam. Reid hasn't forgiven his father for leaving and he never will. Maybe a confrontation with William or a discussion with someone else - but no joyful reunion please.
Also a little bit of:
Prompt 5: Reid being pissy, angry, bitchy - he lashes out at someone, shocking other team members. Hotch is not impressed.
A/N: Many thanks to my awesome betas for their invaluable suggestions. You all seriously rock. Happy holidays to nebula99; I hope you enjoy!
Aaron Hotchner suppressed a sigh as he looked over the case file once more. He knew this case was going to be bad; someone was murdering fathers and sons. Three pairs so far. Young boys, all around five. (Jack's age, his mind supplied unhelpfully.) He wondered if the desperate fathers had to watch their son's die. Based on the preliminary profile the team had compiled, they believed so.
Hotch glanced around the jet at his team. They seemed on edge. Cases involving children were always difficult, always upsetting. His gaze was returned by Spencer Reid, his lover of the past six months. Spencer's look was concerned, questioning. Aaron knew that most people believed that Spencer did not pick up on social cues and that he sometimes lacked an understanding of emotions outside the workings of a case. But Aaron had found that Spencer read him better than anyone had ever done in his life. Part of that was terrifying - to be so well known to someone else; yet most of it was comforting - to know that someone saw him for whom he really was and was there for him regardless.
Aaron gave Spencer a slight reassuring nod and a hint of a smile. Spencer nodded in return. They both returned their attention to the files in front of them.
This time Aaron did sigh. He wondered how his team would cope, how much they were being asked to sacrifice, emotionally, again and again. It was December 21st and it looked like it would be yet another holiday that they spent away from home, focused on someone else's family and far away from their own. He knew that it was only a matter of time that someone on the team would 'lose it' during case.
He just had no idea that it would be Spencer Reid.
*
The jet arrived in Reno, Nevada. With a population 220,500, it was the fourth most populous city in Nevada, Reid had earnestly supplied. Known as "The Biggest Little City in the World", it was famous for its casinos. Hotch made a mental note to try and keep Prentiss out of them once the case had wrapped. If the case wrapped up, that was.
Reno was across the California border and 22 miles away from Lake Tahoe (Reid had informed them) and thus also boasted a slew of outdoor recreational activities including skiing. Two of the fathers had been dressed in ski jackets, and all the families had been skiing on the day of their disappearance, although they had not been to the same resort. It was unclear if this was a coincidence or an important crucial link, since many winter visitors to the Reno/Tahoe area were there for the skiing.
The FBI field office had provided the requisite black SUV's and the team drove to the police station. The lead detective, Robert Gastin, was waiting for them.
"We're glad you're here," he said as he shook Hotch's hand, and Hotch could hear the sincerity in his voice. No one liked cases involving children, which was why the local Reno police probably sought federal assistance.
"Anything we can do to help," Hotch assured him.
As Detective Gastin was showing them where they could work, Hotch made the introductions, ending with, "… and Doctor Spencer Reid."
Reid gave his awkward little wave, already looking at the whiteboard with longing, ready to set up.
The detective frowned. "You're William Reid's son?"
Every member of the BAU froze, their eyes flicking back and forth between the local officer and Reid. As for Reid, he spun around, eyes wide. He licked his lips nervously. "Excuse me?" he asked quietly.
The only one who did not seem affected by the rise in tension was Detective Gastin. "William Reid? He's an attorney in Vegas. I used to work down there. We were neighbors. We went to church together; he came to a few of my barbeques, helped out at some of my son's Little League games. He's a good man. He told me his son was with the FBI. That must be you. He'll be so excited to hear that I finally got to meet you in person."
Hotch glanced at his team. Prentiss seemed to be shrinking back. Morgan was taking a deep breath. Rossi frowned as he looked at Reid, who in turn looked horrified.
Hotch could see anger spark in Spencer's eyes.
"William Reid spoke about me?" Reid asked, slowly and carefully.
"Of course. Your father is very proud of you."
"Oh Christ," Morgan muttered under his breath. Hotch was sure that he was the only one who caught it.
"How about we just get set up?" Rossi said firmly, right before Aaron managed to. Rossi stepped toward the conference room, obviously hoping that Reid would follow.
Reid stood as if frozen. The detective frowned. "What is it?" he asked, finally picking up on the tension.
"William Reid has no right to be proud of me," Reid said, his voice low, controlled. Hotch could hear the suppressed anger in his words.
"He's your father," Detective Gastin said, obviously confused.
"He forfeited any right to that title a long time ago."
"Now look. I don't know what your issues are with your dad, but he's a good man who always spoke highly of you. He has valuable insights; he even helped me out with a few issues I was having with my own boys. I'm sure that if you just bothered to talk to him this could all be worked out, son."
"Don't. Call. Me. Son. You have no right to do so, nor does William Reid. The decision to 'talk to him' was taken out of my control when he abandoned my mother and I when I was 10 years old. The only interaction I have had with him after that was to accuse him of being a murdering pedophile while investigating a cold case. In fairness, he wasn't, although he did have information about the case. Anything he told you about me is because he looked it up on the Internet, since he has had no communication with me."
The detective stood silently, surprised by Reid's vehemence.
Rossi gently touched Reid's arm. "Come on, Reid, let's get set up. We have a case that needs our attention. I'm sure your father didn't mean anything wrong when he spoke of you."
Reid yanked his arm away. "You too? You're going to defend him? You were there during that whole Riley Jenkins debacle. I would have thought that you, of all people, would support me." Reid shook his head, his expression one of betrayal as he pressed on. "I thought you would have my back. I thought you would care. I thought better of you, Dave."
Rossi opened his mouth to say something. Hotch knew he had to put a stop to this before it got completely out of hand. "Reid," he snapped authoritatively, effectively ending all conversation. Hotch looked around quickly and saw an empty, private office. He stepped toward it. "In here. Now."
Reid looked like he was going to argue but instead released his breath explosively. He slowly made his way to the office. Hotch shut the door once they were both inside.
"Don't you dare," Reid snapped as Hotch turned to face him. "Don't you dare tell me that I shouldn't be pissed off."
Hotch said nothing. He was torn between wanting to be the comforting lover and needing to be the strict boss. He thought that in some ways letting Spencer vent his anger might be the best way to handle both.
"What? Am I supposed to be fucking grateful that William Reid kept tabs on me?" Spencer continued, his agitation growing. "He's not a 'real father', not one who cares. He donated his biological makeup, nothing more. Thanks to you and Jack, I now know how a father is supposed to act. And William Reid is far from it." Spencer finished, his chest heaving, and he glared at Hotch.
Hotch stood there, a part of him admiring his lover for his passion and anger. But he knew that this was not the time or place. They had a case. Personal emotions had to be put aside. Hotch knew from first-hand experience just how hard that was. They needed Reid's mind in the game, not going over past hurts that could not be easily resolved.
"Are you done?" Hotch asked, his voice stern.
Spencer looked at him, hurt, anger, bewilderment, betrayal reflected in his eyes. Then, suddenly, sadness and resignation. Reid seemed to almost deflate. "This really isn't the right time for me to be in a crisis, is it?"
"No."
Reid squared his shoulders although Hotch could see that it took an immense amount of effort. "Let me get back out there and build a geographical profile. We have enough information and…"
"Spencer," Hotch said gently and stepped toward the younger man. He grasped Reid's upper arms and could feel the almost instinctive flinch. He refused to let go. He stroked Spencer's cheek, unable to watch his lover struggle alone, again. "For what it's worth," Hotch said softly, "I agree with you. I have a great deal of anger toward your father for what he did to you. But we can't fix it here."
Spencer nodded and then suddenly embraced Aaron, squeezing him tightly. "I didn't realize I was still so upset, that I still let him affect me so much," Spencer said, his voice muffled against Aaron's neck.
"It's all right. It's understandable. We just can't address it now."
Spencer nodded and pulled away. He headed toward the door.
"Reid," Hotch said, his voice again taking on the authority of the Unit Chief. "I'm going to have to insist that you apologize to Detective Gastin. We need his cooperation on this case."
Reid nodded, almost absently. "I was planning to."
Hotch felt his heart warm with pride.
"And to Rossi," Reid continued. "I… can't believe I snapped at him." He gave a snort, half amused, half disgusted. "Talk about transference."
"I'm sure he'll be fine," Aaron said gently.
*
Later, much later, the team had reconvened back in the conference room at the police station. They had examined the sites where the bodies were found, spoken to the victims' families who were still in the area, and tried to determine what the victims had been doing the day prior to their disappearance. Garcia checked for overlapping employees between the different ski resorts and, while there were some, none of them seemed to fit the preliminary profile of the UnSub that they had created. Furthermore, those employees had not worked on the days that the dead families had visited the resorts.
Hotch could feel the frustration and exhaustion emanating from his team.
Reid kept staring at the map as if he expected it to tell him something. Hotch realized that he probably did.
"C'mon," Hotch said tiredly. "Let's head over to the hotel and get some sleep."
The team rose slowly. Reid continued to look at the map.
"Reid? You coming?"
"What? Oh, yeah."
"What do you see?" Rossi asked, because they all learned to pay attention when something caught the younger agent's attention like that.
"Nothing, really. There's an overlap in the in this area, but that could just be because of the concentration of retail shops and hotels."
"You think there's some connection there?" Morgan asked.
Reid shrugged. "I don't know."
"Let's all get back to the hotel and get some sleep," Hotch said decisively. "Maybe it will make more sense in the morning."
Reid nodded and stood, reluctantly. Prentiss was about to open the door to the conference room when Reid said, "Rossi?"
Rossi turned to look at Spencer. "Yeah, Reid."
Hotch noticed that the rest of the team was trying to look as unobtrusive as possible.
"I'm sorry," Reid stammered, "about… before. I'm just… you know… sorry." Reid looked everywhere but directly at Rossi.
Rossi came over and clasped his shoulder. Spencer looked up, startled. "It's okay," Rossi said with a slight smile. "Really. It's fine."
Reid gave him a half smile.
Rossi squeezed Reid's shoulder and then let go. "Just know that I've got your back, kiddo. Whenever you need it."
Reid bit his lip and nodded. "Thanks."
*
Rossi and Prentiss returned from the hotel front desk, room key cards in hand. "They only had three rooms available," Prentiss explained, "seeing as it's the beginning of the skiing season and only a few days before Christmas."
"Morgan, you're with me," Rossi said in a tone that brooked no argument, handing the other man a key card. Morgan blinked, but followed Rossi nonetheless.
Prentiss handed Hotch and Reid each a key. "These are for you."
When they got to the room, Hotch was surprised to find that there was only one bed. While the team knew about his relationship with Reid, it was something that they never spoke about. He was a bit taken aback by the obvious acknowledgment.
Reid stopped at the door, blinked in surprise, and then shrugged. "Do you want the bathroom first, or should I get ready for the night?"
"You go first. I have some paperwork to fill out."
Reid nodded and took his go-bag into the bathroom. Hotch heard him run the shower.
Hotch called Prentiss. "You want to explain the sleeping arrangements?" he asked her without preamble when she answered.
"They had three rooms, Hotch. Two with one bed, one with double beds. Rossi and I figured it was better this way. It was either this or you could share a bed with Rossi."
Hotch snorted. "No thank you. He snores and probably kicks. But still, I…" He was unsure how to express his discomfort.
"Don't worry about it, Hotch. Reid could probably use someone to talk to and, with this type of case, you probably could too."
Sometimes, Hotch thought, it sucked working with profilers. "All right," he said instead of answering. "Good night then."
"So, they set us up," Reid said, coming into the room. He was wearing a tee-shirt and sweats, and his hair was damp from the shower, glasses perched on his nose.
"Prentiss claims this was the only room available."
"I'm sorry. If you're uncomfortable, we can call Rossi and Morgan and…"
"No, Reid. I'd definitely rather share a room… and bed… with you."
"But still, it's the team knowing."
Hotch nodded. They were both private men after all. Hotch looked a little more closely at Reid. He looked tired and a bit dejected. "Are you all right?" Hotch asked.
Reid shrugged. "I'm fine."
He gave a half smile. It appeared that Reid had the same definition of 'fine' that Hotch had, the one he used over and over again when things were, in fact, not 'fine'. "You sure?"
Reid nodded.
Hotch walked over and kissed Reid softly. He could feel Reid's momentary surprise, and then he melted into the kiss.
"Why don't you get ready for bed?" Reid said, pushing Hotch away gently when they finally broke apart.
Hotch took a quick shower and returned to find Reid lying in bed, already asleep. Hotch took a moment to observe him. Despite their relationship, they actually had not shared a bed for the night all that often. Reid would not stay the entire night at Hotch's place, both of them deciding that they were not ready to address Jack's inevitable questions if Spencer was there in the morning. Hotch had only been to Reid's place rarely, as he usually preferred to spend the night at home if they were in town so he could have Jack there. And they never spent the night together when they were on a case. Well, until tonight.
Hotch sighed and crawled into bed, turning off the lamp.
Spencer murmured and shifted closer, then froze as if almost unsure of his welcome.
Hotch kissed him and drew him closer, enjoying the other man's warmth. Reid relaxed and nestled into Hotch's shoulder, letting out a contented sigh. Hotch settled into a comfortable position. He briefly regretted that he and Spencer didn't share a bed together more often, but then sleep overcame him before he had a chance to think more.
The ringing of his phone a few hours later caused him to jolt awake unpleasantly. "Hotchner," he said groggily.
"It's Gastin. Another father and son are missing."
Hotch suppressed a curse under his breath. "I'll round up my team. We'll be there shortly."
Spencer had put on his glasses and was blinking at Hotch owlishly. "More bodies?" he asked in a flat voice.
"Not yet. But we've got two more missing people."
"He's escalating. And going far too fast as it is. Three abductions about a week apart, and now this one with only a few days of a cooling off period."
"He's devolving," Hotch said.
"Damn."
*
Within 45 minutes, the BAU team met with Detective Gastin at the police station. "Harry Merino and his eight-year-old son Kevin disappeared from the Mt. Rose Ski Resort parking lot yesterday evening. His wife, Cynthia, was waiting for them to get the car so they could pack in their ski equipment, but they never came back."
"Had they spent the day at the resort?" Morgan asked.
"The afternoon. They had gotten into town late last night from Los Angeles and had a late start this morning."
"What did they do prior to skiing?"
The detective consulted his notes. "Breakfast at a diner. Shopping to pick up some necessities since they were renting a cabin. It looks like they stopped at a ski store and then headed out to the slopes."
"This is the first time someone has gone missing from a resort, right?" Prentiss asked.
"Yes, two of the other pairs disappeared while out on the street. One pair went missing from their hotel garage."
"So, is the UnSub targeting these fathers and sons specifically, or is it a question of opportunity?" Rossi mused.
"And is there a skiing connection?" Prentiss added.
"None of the overlapping resort employees seemed to have any connection to the Merinos. Two of them were working at other resorts, and the other one was working in ski rentals. It seems that this family had their own skis; in fact, they had even gotten some additional equipment when they went shopping earlier in the day."
"Where did they shop?" Reid suddenly chimed in.
"Reno Sports and Skis," the detective informed him. "Located right next to Fitzgerald's Casino, which is closed down."
Reid blinked and then went to the map to check out the location. "Had any of the other families been there?" he asked.
"I… don't know," Detective Gastin admitted. "You think there's a connection."
"I'm not sure. But this location is right in the center of all the disappearances."
"Reid, check and see if the other families went to that store and work on that link," Hotch stated. "Detective, how long does the UnSub keep his victims alive after abducting them?"
"We found the other victims about two to three days after they had gone missing, and it seems that he keeps them alive for one to two days."
"Is it one or two?" Hotch demanded. "That makes quite a difference."
"About 36 to 48 hours."
"All right. We don't have much time. We need to give the profile."
"How?" the detective asked. "What do we know?"
"Well," Rossi said, "we know that the UnSub's organized. He has to be to abduct the victims from public places and to keep them for a few days."
"How is he abducting them?" Gastin asked.
"Probably by threatening the son, which would render the father more tractable," Prentiss said. "The fathers would probably try to do anything to protect their children."
Hotch appreciated that no one from the team looked at him after Prentiss' statement.
"We also know that the UnSub is white, based upon the victimology," Morgan added. "He's probably young, 20 to 30 years old, and likely has major 'daddy issues'."
"There's no sign of sexual abuse, so this isn't sexually motivated" Prentiss said.
"Small mercies," Rossi added.
"The UnSub has another reason for what he's doing," Prentiss continued. "There are different methods of killing for the two victims. The fathers are bound, beaten, and then shot, while the sons have their throats slit. Different methods, different reasons."
"He might view the throat slashing as a mercy killing," Reid added, "as it is quicker. He seems to want to torture the fathers more than the children. That definitely plays into his psychological disorder concerning his father and suggests a background of domestic abuse."
Hotch stood. "Prentiss and Reid, I want you to give the profile with me and then determine the ski shop connection, if there is one. Rossi and Morgan, you head out to the latest abduction site and see what you can find."
*
About an hour later, Reid approached Hotch. "All the families visited that same ski shop within a day or two before disappearing," Reid said. "Garcia is running down the information on all the employees and vendors now, and Prentiss is talking to Mrs. Merino to see if she noticed anything out of the ordinary there."
"Good job. Let me know what you find."
Prentiss came up to them. "I think we may have something." A scared-looking woman stood beside her. "Just tell them what you told me, Mrs. Merino."
"I don't see how this is important," she protested. "It's not as if Harry did anything wrong."
"We're not saying he did, ma'am. We're just trying to determine if anything unusual happened. Just tell them about the ski shop."
"Well, you know, Harry was a little tired from the long drive from L.A., and Kevin, he was a bit rambunctious. He's eight; he can be a handful. And he was full of energy, running around. Harry just wanted him to stop, you know. So, he yelled at him a bit and grabbed him. Nothing too hard. But then this sales guy came up to us and told Harry to leave Kevin alone, that he didn't know the damage he was causing, that he'd make Harry stop if he had to. Harry got pissed and threatened to call the manager, but the guy just took off."
"Did you get his name?" Hotch asked.
Mrs. Merino shook her head no.
"Can you describe what he looks like?"
"Maybe. It was pretty quick."
"Thank you," Hotch told her. "You've been most helpful. Prentiss, have Detective Gastin set Mrs. Merino up with a sketch artist."
"Are you going to get my family back?" the mother asked, her fear evident.
"I promise you, ma'am, that we are doing everything we can."
Prentiss led her away.
Hotch looked over at Reid. "I'm going to have Morgan and Rossi stop by the shop. I take it Garcia is running background information on the employees."
Reid nodded. "Prentiss and I will follow up with the families of the other victims. They all went to that shop; I want to find out if something happened."
"Tactfully."
Reid blinked. "Of course."
He headed to the conference room where the BAU team had set up. Detective Gastin stopped Reid as he got to the door and it was obvious that Gastin had something personal to say to the younger agent. Hotch moved closer so as to monitor the situation.
"Dr. Reid," the detective said. "I just wanted to let you know that I spoke to your father to let him know I met you. He'd like to speak to you."
Hotch could see Reid still and then take a deep breath. "Detective, please. While I appreciate your concern, it's really inappropriate. This is not a good time."
"I know. But I thought, you know, ''tis the season' and all that. Working on a case with fathers and sons, maybe it was time to reconcile."
"I've worked on plenty of cases involving children and their parents. None of them have ever made we want to have contact with William Reid, including this one."
"But-"
"Detective Gastin, a father and son are at the mercy of a spiraling psychopath. We have less than 24 hours before the UnSub kills his latest victims. Our focus here is on the Merinos, not the Reids." Spencer quickly walked away.
Hotch followed him into the conference room and touched his arm. Reid shot him a quick look and gave him a wan smile. His phone rang.
"It's Garcia." Reid answered. "You're on speaker, Garcia."
Prentiss stepped into the office as Garcia began to speak. "I've been going over the employee rosters and I think I have your psychopath du jour. Tommy Brimmer was placed into foster care when he was 12. Seems that his father was imprisoned for beating Tommy almost to death. Oh, and his mother disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Her body was found years later with her throat slit. Tommy's father was the prime suspect, but they were never able to connect the crime to him."
"Beating and throat slitting? Sounds like our guy," Prentiss said.
"I'll tell Rossi and Morgan to look for him specifically," Hotch said. "Keep digging, Garcia."
"On it, sir." Garcia hung up.
"So why is he physically assaulting the fathers?" Prentiss mused.
"The UnSub wants the fathers to experience what he went through," Reid answered. "The helplessness, the vulnerability. Especially if they were trying to protect their sons, they would feel especially powerless if they couldn't."
Hotch swallowed hard, refusing to acknowledge to himself how he felt with Jack. "And the throat cutting?" he asked instead.
"The UnSub probably witnessed his mother's death. He's trying to recreate that somehow."
Hotch's phone rang. "Go ahead, Rossi," he answered.
"Tommy Brimmer isn't at the shop. His manager said he had been working today, but it seems he slipped out when we got here. He must have seen us walk in or something. He's got to be in the general area."
"Okay, hold tight. Let me get Garcia to find out his car make and possible location."
Reid was already dialing. "Garcia, Tommy Brimmer just took off. Any idea what he would be driving or where he's going?"
"He doesn't have a car registered in his name," Garcia's voice said through the phone. "But… here's the thing. His home address is in an apartment complex."
"Not convenient for keeping victims," Hotch said.
"That's what I thought," Garcia agreed. "So I was checking out other possibilities. Seems that the father owned a warehouse which shut down a few years ago due to the economy. It's abandoned. Oh, and Daddy Dearest died a few months back from lung cancer; Tommy Brimmer was listed as his only kin, but there are actually police reports of the father threatening to shoot the son because he was pissed off about the quality of his medical care."
"His father's death… that's the stressor," Prentiss pointed out.
"That and the repeated abuse. Brimmer has all sorts of unresolved issues," Hotch agreed.
"I've sent you the address for the warehouse location," Garcia informed them.
Hotch looked at Reid and Prentiss. "Let's go. I'll go tell Gastin and have Rossi and Morgan meet us there."
*
Hotch drove the black SUV with Prentiss beside him and Reid in the backseat. They had donned their Kevlar vests and were strategizing over the best methods to enter the building based on blueprints that Garcia had sent them. Reid's phone rang.
He answered it absently. "Reid," he said, still concentrating on the blueprints. He dropped the blueprints and gasped in surprise. "Dad?"
Hotch and Prentiss exchanged a quick look.
"What are you doing calling this number?" There was silence as Reid listened to the response.
"Detective Gastin gave it to you? That's… interesting." There was another pause followed by, "No, this really isn't a good time to talk…"
The one-sided conversation went one, with brief silences when William Reid was obviously speaking. "You're upset that I spoke to Gastin?" Spencer said. "Actually, Father, he spoke to me.… Let me see if I understand this. You're annoyed that I might be ruining your reputation?… Then how did you mean it?… Dad, while I appreciate that you want to catch up on family business which you've ignored for the past 19 years, I wasn't kidding when I said this isn't a good time. I'm about to infiltrate a warehouse where a serial killer is holding a father and eight-year-old boy hostage. My first priority is to get the victims out alive, if they're not already dead. Then I'm concentrating on getting my team out alive. Unhurt would be fantastic, but not dead is pretty damn important. I'd prefer it if the UnSub also made it out alive, but that's not always an option. So, Dad, I don't really have time to chat right now. I'm a little busy at the moment." Reid hung up the phone.
Hotch looked at Reid in the rearview mirror, and could clearly see the agitation in the younger man's face. "You all right, Reid?"
"Fine."
Prentiss shot Hotch a look of disbelief. Hotch hated what he was about to do, but knew he had no choice. "Reid, I need to know that your head is in this current situation and that you're not distracted."
"I said I'm fine."
"I need to know that you can put aside that phone call. I need you to assure me that you can." Hotch watched in the mirror as Reid took a deep breath and then stilled his features into a blank mask.
"What phone call?" Reid asked, his voice relatively calm.
"I'm sorry, Spencer," he said softly, his voice that of a lover instead of a strict boss. "I wish…" he trailed off.
"I know, Aaron," Spencer replied, matching his tone. "I'll process it later. Right now we have a job to do." He then smiled briefly at Prentiss, who reached back and squeezed his hand. Hotch was warmed by the fact that Spencer let her.
They arrived at the warehouse, Rossi and Morgan a few moments behind. Detective Gastin was there with two patrol cars. "SWAT's on its way," he said, "but it will take a few minutes."
"We'll go in first," Hotch told him. "Send in SWAT on my signal."
Hotch looked at his team, looked at Reid. All of them were focused, all ready to go. "Morgan, Rossi, you take the back. Prentiss, Reid, you're with me."
They all nodded. Morgan and Rossi took off.
Hotch waited until they indicated they were in place. He looked at his two companions. "Let's do this."
Hotch, Reid, and Prentiss slipped in through a side door. The corridor was dark and musty smelling. Hotch held a flashlight with his gun, illuminating the deserted area.
He looked at Reid, whom he knew had memorized the blueprints. Reid pointed to the left. Hotch headed in that direction, Prentiss and Reid close behind. They came to another hallway; Reid indicated that they should follow it.
There was a door at the end of the hall. "This should open up into the main warehouse," Reid breathed. "Beyond it should be a storage area; there shouldn't be any structural barriers."
Hotch nodded. Prentiss grabbed the door and yanked it open. Hotch swiftly entered and saw a large space, with shelves and assorted debris that looked like it had been left behind when the company folded. There seemed to be a source of light straight ahead, as if it were coming from a single bulb. He could hear voices.
Reid and Prentiss acknowledged silently that they could hear it too.
Suddenly a scream rang out. "Daddy! No! Leave him alone!"
"Go," Hotch commanded. "Rossi, Morgan, southwest quadrant," he informed them as he ran toward the sound. They rounded the corner to find one man chained to a wall while another wielded a baseball bat. A young boy was tied to the wall a few feet away and sobbing.
"FBI!" Prentiss shouted as they charged into the room. "Tommy Brimmer, drop your weapon."
Tommy Brimmer quickly dropped the bat and brandished a long, sharp knife that had been lying on the floor. He grabbed Kevin as a shield, yanking him to his feet and pressing the knife to the boy's jugular. "Don't move, kid, or else you die," Brimmer told him. Hotch could see the little boy was shaking.
"Leave my son alone," Harry pled, trying to move his broken body toward his child. "Please, just leave him alone."
"Shut up!" Brimmer shouted.
"Tommy Brimmer," Hotch's tone was calm yet icy, "drop your weapon and let the boy go."
Hotch could sense Rossi and Morgan arrive. All of his agents had their guns trained on the UnSub.
"No!" Brimmer shouted. "I'm saving him."
"You're doing no such thing," Morgan said.
"Yes, I am. Saving him from a fate far worse than death."
"What fate is that?" Hotch asked, trying to keep the UnSub calm, to keep him talking.
"From growing up with an abusive, abandoning, son-of-a-bitch father."
"I would never-" Harry Merino began to protest.
"Shut up!" the UnSub yelled again, moving the knife tighter on Kevin's neck. The little boy cried out in pain. A trickle of blood ran down his neck.
"Tommy, you don't know that Mr. Merino is abusive," Reid said, his voice soothing, calming.
"I do. I saw him. He was just like all the others."
"The others, Tommy?" Reid asked. Hotch could see Brimmer getting agitated from the questions. They might be able to use that distraction.
"The others," Brimmer said, focusing on Reid. "I saw them in the shop, yelling at their sons, shaking them, scaring them. They had to die. I could see what the fathers were going to do to their kids, the hurt and pain they would cause. I only took the ones who needed saving. The ones whose fathers would abuse and abandon the boys until there was nothing but an empty shell left."
"I wouldn't," Harry Merino whimpered.
"Why did the boys have to die?" Reid asked with genuine interest, keeping Brimmer's attention on him while Hotch and the others inched closer.
"I couldn't leave them abandoned in this world, could I? Do you even know what happens when you're abandoned? The fear, the loneliness, the other abuse? It was kinder this way. There's always pain, always terror."
"I know what it's like to be abandoned," Reid confessed. He holstered his gun and held his hands up.
Brimmer gaped at Reid, obviously stunned at Reid's admission and actions, the knife slipping slightly away from Kevin's neck. The boy closed his eyes and tried not to move. Hotch could see he was stifling his sobs.
"Your father abandoned you?" Tommy asked Reid.
"Yes."
"It's always the father, isn't it? Did he hit you? Yell at you?"
"No, not like yours. I was lucky in that respect."
"Then you don't know what it's like," Brimmer said dismissively, pulling Kevin tightly to him. He suddenly noticed that the other agents were approaching. "Don't come any closer," he warned.
"I do know what it's like," Reid insisted, his voice surprisingly calm. "Did my father hit me? No. But my father just ran out on me and my mother when I was 10, leaving me to care for her. She was very sick. She couldn't take care of herself. We had no other family in town. I was all alone. I was scared. No one came to help me. The worst part? I found out, years later, that he lived 10 minutes from me but he never tried to help."
"I didn't like being alone," Tommy whispered brokenly.
"I know. I didn't like it either."
"That's why I went back to my Dad. When he got out of jail, I thought it would be different. I just wanted him to be proud of me, but he never was."
"I know," Reid said softly. "I kept hoping that my father would hear about my accomplishments, tell me he was proud, let me know that he was thinking of me. But he never did. Years later I found out that he did know what I had done. But he still couldn't be bothered to find me, to tell me."
"All I wanted to do was protect these boys from what I went through."
"This isn't the answer, Tommy. You know it's not."
"My father killed my mother, you know. I watched him slice her throat. It was a mercy killing, he said. It was quick and then the pain was gone. I always envied her that escape. He told me I wouldn't die that way. If I told anyone, he would beat me and abandon me in the woods until I died out there, lost, lonely, alone. That's what he said. And he meant it."
"I know, Tommy. But this dad isn't going to hurt his son."
"All fathers are the same," Tommy insisted.
"No, they're not," Reid said gently. "I've seen that they can be different. Very different. I've seen dads who protect their sons with every ounce of their being."
Brimmer shook his head. "No."
"Yes," Reid insisted. "I bet if you let Kevin go, he'd run right to his dad. Would you have done that? Would I have? No. But Kevin?" Kevin looked at Reid pleadingly. "He will."
"I'm just trying to save them," Tommy whispered. "From a horrible fate."
"I know," Reid told him. "But this isn't the way. You know that you're not getting out of here. You know that we're not going to let you hurt anyone else."
Brimmer looked around and blinked as if just noticing how close the FBI team had gotten to him, and how many guns were pointed at his head.
"Let Kevin go," Reid said, very softly. "Give him the chance you never had."
Tommy complied and crumpled to the floor as Kevin ran, as Reid predicted, to his father.
Morgan and Hotch moved in to secure the UnSub, kicking the knife away and pulling him to his feet. He offered no resistance. Rossi and Prentiss rushed to the father, releasing him from his bindings and calling for the paramedics. He threw his arms around his son, ignoring his own pain to hold the boy tightly.
Hotch informed Detective Gastin that the UnSub was captured and that they needed an ambulance for the father and son.
Brimmer looked at the hugging pair. He then looked at Reid. "I wish he had killed me," he said. "My father. I wish he hadn't left me with this all-consuming emptiness. It's all I have, my hate. It's the only thing that kept me alive. But it destroyed me."
"And it destroyed many others, too," Reid said quietly as the police led Brimmer off.
Hotch went up to him. "Are you all right?"
Reid nodded and then looked over at the Harry Merino and his son. The father was now on a stretcher, paramedics tending to his wounds. Kevin lay on top of him and Harry wouldn't let anyone separate them.
"That's what's important, isn't it?" Spencer said to Hotch, nodding at the family. "That's why we do what we do."
"You did well, Dr. Reid," Hotch said, giving his agent a rare at-work smile.
The father had the paramedics stop as they were wheeling him out. He grabbed Reid's hand; Reid started but didn't pull away. "Thank you," he croaked. "Thank you for saving my son. And me."
*
The team returned to the police station to clean up their base of operations, grateful that they were not being forced to take the red eye back to Quantico, especially as it had started to snow. Hotch noticed that Reid went out of his way to avoid Gastin.
Finally the detective had approached Hotch. "Look, I know it isn't my place-"
"No, it isn't," Hotch said firmly.
"I'm just trying to help," Gastin insisted. "William Reid is a good man. I'm sure if they just talked, they could work things out."
"I know you think you're trying to help, but your actions were far from appropriate. They actually created a distraction which threatened to actively interfere with this case. This is Dr. Reid's life and his complicated relationship to resolve, or not, as he sees fit. He's entitled to make his own decisions, without interference or unnecessary pressure."
Gastin swallowed hard. He glanced over to where Reid was standing with Morgan, packing up the files. "He seems like a good guy."
"He is. One of the best I know," Hotch said.
"He really should get to know his father."
Hotch gave the detective a hard stare. "That's not your place, or even my place, to decide."
The detective nodded, but wouldn't meet Hotch's eyes. "Thanks for all your assistance." They shook hands quickly and Gastin walked away.
When they reached their hotel that night, Spencer stood by the window in their room, watching the falling snow. Hotch went up to him and put his arms around his waist, pressing his chest into Spencer's back. Spencer relaxed into his lover's embrace. Hotch kissed his neck gently and then placed his chin on Spencer's shoulder, looking out at the snow with him.
"You all right?" Hotch asked quietly.
Spencer nodded. "Sometimes it still surprises me, all the violent patterns that abuse perpetuates. It can be a never-ending cycle."
"It can be broken," Hotch insisted.
Spencer kissed his cheek. "Yes. But you're also incredibly strong, Aaron. And a very good man." He went back to looking out the window.
Hotch knew that the team had deduced his own abusive past; they were profilers after all, and some behavior patterns just couldn't be hidden. However, he never spoke of it with any of them, not even Spencer. Now, he just pulled him closer.
Spencer's phone rang. "Are you kidding me?" he groaned.
"Your father?" Hotch asked.
"Yeah."
"You don't have to answer it."
"I'm better off just handling it now. Otherwise he'll continue to bother me."
"I'll give you some privacy." Hotch made to walk away.
Spencer grabbed his arm. "No. Stay." Spencer's eyes suddenly looked exceptionally vulnerable. "Please."
"Of course."
Spencer flipped open the phone and hit the 'speaker' button so that Hotch could listen in. "Reid."
"Spencer, it's your father."
"What do you want?"
"When I spoke to you today, you made it sound like your life was in danger. I thought you would let me know what happened. That would have been the polite thing to do. I had to find out from Detective Gastin that you were okay."
Spencer closed his eyes. "You've never inquired as to my well being before."
"Is your life frequently in danger?"
"Yes, Dad, actually it is. I catch serial killers. It's a dangerous job. I've been kidnapped, held hostage, and exposed to explosives, various firearms, and knives. I've even been shot. So, yes, my life is frequently in danger which, if you actually knew me, you'd know."
There was a moment of silence.
"I had no idea," William Reid eventually said.
"I know," Spencer replied.
"Don't you think your job is too dangerous?"
"Dad, you don't get to question my life choices in a five minute phone conversation more than 19 years after you walked out on me. Again, what do you want?"
"I was thinking that maybe we should try and clear the air between us."
"Why now?"
"Well, Detective Gastin said you seemed at bit… resentful… toward me. I'd like to let him know that I took his advice and am trying to work this out."
Spencer stared at the phone for a few moments. Hotch squeezed his shoulder.
"You're worried about your reputation, aren't you, Dad? You want to be able to tell Gastin that you did everything to solve the problem."
"It's not my reputation I'm worried about!"
"Then what is it? You had no interest in 'clearing the air' two years ago when I saw you. Or at any other time, for that matter. Why now?"
"Spencer, I did the best I could. I don't expect you to understand that."
"The best you could? You did nothing at all."
"That's not fair."
"Yes, it is."
"Look, when you come see your mother for Christmas, why don't we meet and try and resolve some of this?"
Spencer looked stricken. He looked directly at Hotch, and then quickly down at the floor. "I hadn't been planning…"
"You're not going to see your mother for the holidays?"
Hotch could see Spencer's face tighten. His eyes turned hard and fiery. "Don't you dare question my relationship with Mom."
"Spencer, this is futile. Next time you're in Vegas, come and see me." William Reid hung up.
Spencer was actually shaking slightly, whether with anger, frustration, or hurt Hotch couldn't tell. He drew his lover in for a hug, holding Spencer tightly. Spencer resisted for a moment and then squeezed back just as hard. "He's never even said he was sorry," Spencer whispered into Hotch's neck. "Not once. He's never apologized for what he did."
Hotch kissed Spencer and then pulled him tight again. "You know, I sometimes wonder which is worse: abuse or abandonment. Both leave terrible wounds."
Spencer pulled back slightly, a puzzled look on his face. Hotch could tell that he was seriously considering the question. Before he could say that it was rhetorical, Spencer answered, "Abuse, I think, although they're often combined together. But abuse often perpetuates a continuing cycle of violence. Abandonment more often leads to feelings of worthlessness, but the damage is usually to oneself."
"Not always, though."
"No. Both definitely create problems."
"What are you going to do, Spencer?"
"I don't know. But maybe he's right that I should see Mom for Christmas. Especially since I'm here in Nevada. I could fly there for a few days and then head back to Virginia."
Hotch suppressed a pang of disappointment that Spencer was talking about missing their first Christmas together as a couple. He knew that Spencer's relationship with his mother was complicated, and he knew that Spencer would now spend the holiday feeling guilty if he didn't go and see her.
"You won't mind?" Spencer asked hesitantly.
Hotch shook his head. "Of course not. You need to see her."
"But you and Jack…I don't want to disappoint either of you."
Hotch kissed him. "We'll see you when you get back."
Spencer squeezed him tightly.
"Are you going to see you father when you're in Vegas?"
"I don't know. Part of me doesn't want to see him, the other part wants to march up to him and demand an apology and an explanation that makes sense. I don't think I'll ever get either. I did understand what the UnSub meant when he said he just wanted his father to be proud of him. I used to look for my father at my graduations, big events in my life, hoping that he would show. He never did."
"Sons are always looking for their father's approval. It hurts when you don't get it. No accomplishment was ever good enough for my father, either. I go out of my way to make sure that I never do that to Jack."
"May I ask you a question?"
"Of course. I don't know if I'll be able to answer it, emotionally anyway. But I'll try."
"Your brother Sean doesn't seem to have the same opinion of your father. That always struck me as… odd."
"And you want to know why?"
Spencer nodded. "Yes. But only if you want to tell me."
Hotch sighed. "You have to remember that Sean is quite a bit younger than me. He's actually closer to you in age than to me. I took to… protecting… Sean almost immediately, since my mother essentially lived in denial as to my father's habits of drinking and womanizing. And, of course, hitting me. I made sure that Sean was never alone with Dad. A few years after Sean was born, while I was still in high school, Dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. He had no interest then in Sean, or even me. His heart gave out a few years later. Sean was, maybe, five. He really doesn't have many clear recollections of our father."
"So you essentially raised him."
Hotch nodded. "I would create stories for him about what Dad was like. I would even create 'family traditions' to follow so he'd feel a connection to his father. Our mother never questioned it. I think she was lost in her own grief and sense of denial for a long time and by the time she came out of it the behaviors were firmly ingrained."
"You created the father you always wanted for your brother."
"Yes. But I couldn't be the father he wanted. It was hard to live up to an ideal."
Spencer leaned over and kissed Hotch gently. He then pulled back and ran his fingers through Hotch's hair, down his cheek. "You are the best man I know, Aaron Hotchner."
Hotch snorted slightly. "Hardly."
Spencer shook his head. "You'll never convince me otherwise." Spencer then kissed him. Hotch found himself being maneuvered slowly but surely toward the bed. He lay down when they reached it, pulling Spencer on top of him.
"I don't want to talk about fathers anymore," Spencer breathed into his ear.
"Good plan."
"I've never identified with you as a father figure, by the way. Gideon, obviously. But you? I had a crush on you from the first moment I saw you."
"Oh," Hotch breathed and hitched his leg around Spencer's waist, flipping them over. "Still have a crush."
"Mmmm…" Spencer moaned. He thrust his hips up, seeking friction, their growing erections rubbing through their clothes. "It's far deeper than that now." He pulled Aaron toward him. "Far deeper."
"Subtle, Dr. Reid." Then Hotch unbuttoned Spencer's collar and started sucking, just below the collar line.
Spencer moaned and writhed underneath him. "Aaron," he whimpered. "Please. Don't stop."
They made love almost frantically, hurriedly removing each other's clothes. Aaron had taken a little time to kiss the surgical scars on Spencer's knee, nibble on his thighs, suck on his cock, but Spencer pulled him up so that Aaron was on top of him, stretched out, skin-to-skin. Spencer surprised Aaron by carrying lube in his messenger bag ("Hey, you never know when it might come in handy," was the explanation, and Aaron could hardly disagree since it was very handy indeed at that moment.) Aaron looked into Spencer's eyes as he pushed inside him and was surprised by the feelings overwhelming him. There was lust, surely, but also a strong sense of protectiveness toward the vulnerability he saw in Spencer's eyes. And, if Aaron was honest with himself, he felt love too, although he would not yet admit it out loud.
When they were done, he maneuvered until Spencer lay partially draped on top of him. Their breathing slowly headed back to normal. Aaron ran his fingers through Spencer's hair.
"Thank you," Spencer whispered, his voice already beginning to slur with sleep.
"For what?"
"For being here, with me, now, today. For supporting me."
"Always." Aaron kissed him. Spencer snuggled into Aaron's chest, his breath evening out as sleep overcame him.
Aaron felt warm and satisfied and, surprisingly, happy. He decided that he and Spencer really needed to share a bed more often.
*
Spencer stood outside the door, hesitating before reaching for the knocker. It was Christmas morning and Spencer was unsure of his welcome. He hadn't called the other man to let him know he was coming. Spencer forced himself to knock.
He waited for a few moments, wondering if he should have at least told the other man he was on his way. Spencer really didn't know what plans he had and was certain that he would be busy.
The door opened. He could see the look of surprise on Aaron's face. Spencer smiled awkwardly.
"Spencer," Aaron said. "I thought you were still in Vegas with your mom."
Spencer held up the presents he was carrying. He licked his lips nervously. "I didn't want to miss Christmas with you and Jack."
Spencer heard a voice from inside Aaron's home. "Who's at the door, Aaron?"
"If I'm interfering…."
"No!" Aaron said hurriedly. "Of course not." He opened the door and invited Spencer in.
Sean Hotchner was standing in the living room near the Christmas tree. "Spencer," Sean said warmly. "My brother said you were going to be in Las Vegas for the holiday."
"I took a red eye flight last night to get here. I just stopped by my place long enough to pick up the gifts and then I came here."
Aaron looked at him quizzically, but before he could ask any questions there was a commotion on the stairs. "Spencer," Jack cried out and ran down the stairs, flinging himself on Spencer's legs. Aaron reached out to steady him. "Did you bring me any presents?"
"Jack," Aaron admonished.
"What? He's carrying presents. Some of them must be for me."
"Of course they are," Spencer assured him.
"Why don't you go with your Uncle Sean to the kitchen for a moment," Aaron suggested, "and check on the cookies? Then we'll open the gifts a little later."
Jack ran into the kitchen in a way that only a kid hyped up on Christmas can manage. Sean shot Spencer and Aaron a quick smile and followed his nephew.
Aaron looked at Spencer, who was attempting not to squirm under the intense gaze. "Is everything all right?" Aaron asked.
Spencer nodded. "Yes."
"How's your mother?"
"Good, actually. She was fairly coherent most of the time I was there."
"Is that not always the case?"
"No, not always. But this time she was good."
"So… not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but why are you here?"
"You know, mom asked me the same question when I visited her. I'm beginning to think I'm not wanted."
Aaron gave him a steady look. "You're avoiding the question."
"Mom was happy to see me. She helped me to sort out some things concerning how I felt about my father. It was a good visit. But then… she reminded me that Christmas is about family. And children. My 'new family', she said. You. And Jack. She made me promise to get on a plane and come here. Since I really wanted to be with you, it all worked out."
Aaron looked at him for a moment and then drew him in for a quick embrace. "I'm glad you're here."
"Me too."
Sean came back in and smiled at Spencer. "You're just in time for the tree ceremony."
"Tree ceremony?" Spencer asked as he followed the two brothers into the living room.
"Yeah. Aaron said it's a tradition my father used to do. The youngest one here - that's you, Jack," he said as he picked up his nephew, "puts the angel on top of the tree on Christmas morning." He handed Jack the ornament and lifted him so that he could place it on the tree. He then put Jack down and hit the lights. The tree and the angel shone brightly. Jack looked up at it in wonder. "It reminds us to stop and think about the true meaning of Christmas."
Spencer smiled. "This is something your father used to do?"
"That's what Aaron said."
Spencer met his lover's eyes. Aaron looked away quickly.
"That's a very nice tradition," he murmured. Aaron mouth quirked into a slight smile.
"Hey, Jack," Sean said, "you want to help me in the kitchen. The cookies are almost done."
Jack ran back to the kitchen.
Aaron and Spencer sat on the couch. Aaron took his hand. "So did you see your father?"
Spencer shook his head. "No. I decided not to this time. If I do decide to see him, I want it to be my decision, on my terms. I really don't owe him anything."
"No, you don't."
"But… I've been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days."
Aaron snorted. "When are you not?"
"True. But this time there were no dead bodies involved. I've come to some realizations, however."
"Which are?"
Spencer swallowed but then met Aaron's eyes. "I'm all in."
"With what?" Aaron asked, obviously confused.
"You. This. Us. Jack. I'm all in, Aaron. I was holding back, I think, scared that I would mess up, scared that I was like my dad. But I'm not. I'm not like my father. My mom tried to tell me that, but I came to the same realizations as well. I'm not going to abandon you. I'm not going to walk away, no matter how bad things get. I want you. I want this. I want us."
Aaron blinked a few times as if utterly surprised and then reached out and kissed Spencer fiercely.
"Do you have your go-bag with you?" Aaron asked when they finally broke apart.
"Of course. It's in my car. Why?"
"Stay here tonight."
"Um… isn't Sean going to be in your guest room?"
"Yes. Stay with me in my bed. I liked sleeping with you. I slept better with you beside me."
"But… what about Sean? Jack?"
"You're part of my family, Spencer. I want you here. We'll answer any questions they might have."
This time it was Spencer who pulled Aaron in for a kiss.
They heard the sound of a throat being cleared. They broke apart to find Sean watching them with a smirk on his face. Aaron just glared at his brother, which made Sean's grin wider.
Jack came up to Spencer and clambered into his lap, a battered book in hand. "Would you read me a story?" Jack asked, handing Spencer A Christmas Carol.
Spencer blinked in surprise. "Of course. This is a classic, you know."
"Aaron used to read it to us every Christmas," Sean said. "From the time I was five." The brother's exchanged a long gaze and a smile.
"I want Spencer to read it," Jack insisted.
"Of course," Aaron said. "I want to hear Spencer read it too." He put his arm around Spencer's shoulders, and Sean sat on the chair across from them.
Spencer looked at the tree, at the little boy in his lap, at his lover. He was happy. He was home. He opened the book and began to read.