Fic: "A Different Kind of Solitude" by kyrdwyn [Hotchner/Reid, NC-17/FRAO] 13 of 15
Title: A Different Kind of Solitude (13/15)
Author:kyrdwyn
Rating: NC-17/FRAO (For Adults Only)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Genre: Slash, Slight AU
Summary: When Aaron and Spencer are trapped together by an unsub, things change between them while the team searches for their lost friends.
Spoilers, Warnings, and Author's Notes located in Part 1.
All parts are located at This Tag
"What the hell happened to you?"
Morgan's bluntly cheerful greeting as he came into the bullpen caused Spencer to wince. "Las Vegas," he said with a shrug, deciding to leave the previous night's argument with Aaron out of the conversation. He hadn't slept very well the night before, replaying the argument over and over in his head.
"Right." Morgan's tone of voice made it clear that he wasn't buying it.
"God, you looked better when we rescued you from that underground residence," Prentiss said bluntly as she entered, coffee in hand. "What the hell happened?"
Spencer resisted the urge to throw his pen at the two of them. "Las Vegas," he replied again.
"Reid, you're a terrible liar." Prentiss perched herself on the corner of Spencer's desk, looking down at him. "The most exciting thing you did in Las Vegas was probably play video poker at the airport."
"Hotel bar, actually," he said. "Won a couple of grand."
"So why do you look like someone just ran you over with a truck?" Morgan said.
Spencer didn't answer, instead just sighing. "Can we drop this, please?"
"Drop what?" Rossi asked as he came into the bullpen. "Reid, you look like hell."
"Is there a broken record in here?" he asked, throwing his hands up in the air and managing to hit Morgan with his pen as it flew out of his hands, making him feel a bit better as Morgan let out a little exclamation of surprise and pain. "I took Morgan's advice, went to Las Vegas, got cleared to come back to work, and came back. Yes, I apparently look like hell. I'm sure I'll look better after chasing down our next sexual sadist or psychopathic serial killer. And no," he said, looking at Prentiss and Morgan, "I did not do anything that would require drug testing."
"No one said anything about drug testing, man," Morgan said, holding up his hands in protest.
"You were thinking it," Spencer said. He turned back to the file on his desk, feeling the other three exchange looks behind his head.
"We're just concerned for a friend, Spencer," Rossi said carefully.
"I'm fine," Spencer said in reply, not looking at them. The fact that Rossi had actually used Spencer's first name was an indication of the depth of his concern. He could feel them exchanging looks again. "Don't even threaten to sic Garcia on me," he said. "She'll wonder why I look like hell, I'll tell her I'm fine, and no, I won't say anything to her that I haven't said to the three of you."
"You don't need to say anything, Reid," Rossi said. "I think we just got our answer."
Spencer looked up in time to catch Aaron crossing the bullpen, looking as bad as Spencer felt. He glanced at the four of them, nodded, and headed up the stairs to his office, not saying a word. Spencer felt Morgan's hand settle on his shoulder. "Anytime you need a friend, man," he said softly.
"I'm fine," Spencer said again, this time without any real heat or emotion. He did glance over at his three team mates, his friends. "But thanks for the offer."
"You look like hell," Dave said with no preamble as he walked into Aaron's office and closed the door behind him.
"Good morning to you, too," Aaron said, flipping through the files on his desk. "I trust everything was fine while I was out on leave these past two weeks?"
"Caught a rather nasty serial arsonist in California," Dave told him as he dropped into one of the chairs in front of Aaron's desk. "But I didn't come here to discuss cases. I came here to discuss why two of my friends look like hell."
"I'm fine."
Dave snorted. "Reid said the same thing. I didn't believe him, either. What happened, Aaron?"
Aaron sighed, bringing his hand up to rub his temples with his thumb and forefinger. "Just a hard time adjusting to reality, I guess."
Dave was silent for a few moments, and Aaron went back to the files on his desk. "You break it off with him, or vice versa?"
Damn, when had Dave gotten so good at reading him? "We didn't break it off. We just . . . we had an argument, and he left to go back to his apartment," Aaron said, finally looking up at Dave, who was listening with a neutral expression. "He didn't want to be the reason that I lost Jack."
Dave nodded. "When was this?"
"Last night."
"So you were together before then?"
"After he got back from Las Vegas four days ago." Aaron sighed. "He didn't even want to go back to his apartment, Dave. Did you know that since we were rescued, he only spent two nights in his apartment, and one was last night? After Miranda Adams Harrison took him from his apartment, he told me he was practically jumping at every knock on the door."
"Understandable," Dave said.
"You think he was right to leave, that we should break it off." Aaron got up from his chair and walked to the window, looking out.
"I'm not saying that," Dave said. "But I can understand what Reid's thinking. He hasn't seen his father in, what, seventeen years? That's a long time to go without a father, Aaron. Then add in Gideon and his manner of leaving, and it's enough to make anyone not want to be the cause of another child going through those emotions, much less someone as perceptive and smart as Reid."
"I know, Dave." Aaron leaned against the wall, still looking out the window. "I'm tired of other people deciding what's best for me, for our relationships. Haley walked out, Spencer walked out. When do I get a say in things?"
Silence reigned in the room for several moments. Aaron heard Dave shift in his chair. "Are you willing to risk not getting to see Jack again to be with Spencer?"
"Maybe." Aaron loved his son more than anything, except Spencer. The love was different, but right now, Spencer would be in his life more often than Jack would. He wanted that, he needed that. "I need to talk to Haley."
"Aaron, if you tell Haley, she could easily turn around and tell Strauss. Your career would be finished, and I know Haley isn't exactly a fan of your work. Aren't you afraid she might do so out of spite?"
"It's always a possibility," Aaron admitted, "but I have to try, Dave. If I don't, I'm afraid that this will always be an issue between Spencer and I. Yes, I know we'll have problems, yes the job will be an issue, but I don't want my son to be an issue. I'd like Spencer to be able to be around when Jack is."
"I can't tell you what to do, Aaron, but I hope you know what you're doing, because this could blow up in your face so fast that you won't know what's happened."
"Well, at least I'll be leaving the unit in good hands," Aaron said with a wry smile at Dave.
"Oh hell no," Rossi said. "I'm more than happy to not be the boss."
"Then maybe you should hope that Haley takes this well," Aaron said. "Now, I think we have cases to brief," he said, looking out the window into the bullpen and seeing JJ hovering by Prentiss' desk, shooting glances toward Aaron's office.
Derek Morgan unlocked the door to the hotel room in a suburb of Des Moines, Iowa, and blinked as he realized someone was sitting on one of the beds already. Then he remembered there was a convention in town, and the team had to double up on rooms. Prentiss and JJ were sharing, obviously. Derek had assumed he'd been sharing with Rossi, but Reid was the person on the bed, the case file spread out in a semi circle around him. Reid looked up from the report he was reading. "Hey."
"What are you doing here?"
"Studying the case before I try to get some sleep," Reid replied matter of factly, turning the page. He shifted, uncurling one leg from underneath him and stretching it out.
"Shouldn't you be sharing with Hotch?"
Reid looked up and gave Derek a glance he couldn't interpret. "No, Rossi's sharing with Hotch."
Derek frowned, letting the door shut behind him. "Reid, what's going on with the two of you?"
"Nothing."
Derek sat down on the empty bed, facing Reid. "Come on, pretty boy, talk to me."
"Don't call me that." Reid's gaze was as cold as his voice. Derek leaned back as if Reid had threatened him physically. Then again, considering Reid's revolver was within arm's reach on the night stand, Reid very well could threaten him with bodily injury.
"I've called you that for years," Derek said carefully, surprised by the reaction. He briefly wondered if Miranda Adams Harrison had referred to Reid as that. He didn't think Hotch would have, or that Reid would have reacted so negatively to it.
"I've hated being called it for years," Reid responded, going back to the report.
"Then why didn't you say anything? I would have stopped using it." Derek might tease the younger man, call him 'kid' and 'genius boy' and 'pretty boy', but if Reid had ever seriously said anything to indicate that he didn't like the nicknames, Derek would have stopped.
"Because I wanted to be accepted. The use of nicknames in a closed society can be considered a sign of either acceptance or of dislike, and as much as I hated it, you never said it as if it were an epithet, or used it as an expression of sexual desire or other non-friendly purposes. Not the way some of the pedophile unsubs did when they called me that on custodial interviews."
Derek felt a chill go through his body. "Wait, who called you that?" He wanted to track down the unsubs and beat them into a pulp for daring to call Reid that. Granted, Derek knew some of them would have done it merely to try to disconcert Reid, but the fact that they did, and Reid hadn't told anyone, not even Hotch he'd bet, angered him.
Reid waved a hand dismissively. "It's not important, Morgan. I just don't want to be called it again. At least not by someone I consider to be my friend." He looked up at Derek, his hazel eyes reflecting an emotion Derek wasn't sure he'd seen before. "My best friend."
Derek swallowed. Reid had never said that before. "I promise, Reid," he said seriously, meeting Reid's gaze squarely. "I won't call you that again. And if I slip up and say it, you can smack me upside the head."
Reid gave him a grin. "I'm so totally going to hold you to that. In front of Hotch and Rossi if necessary. And Garcia."
Derek fell back on his bed with a mock groan. "I'm doomed. Garcia will have video of that on the FBI intranet three minutes after it happens."
"And I will replay it for years," Reid replied with a chuckle.
Derek raised his head, pleased by the smile on Reid's face. He pushed himself back up to a sitting position. "Seriously, though, Reid, you know you can talk to me about anything. I won't judge. You and Hotch went through something I don't think I can fully understand, you have a bond that I won't ever fully understand, but as your friend, I'm more than willing to listen."
Reid's smile faded, and he looked down at the case file. "I think I screwed up," he finally said. "I may have pushed him away to protect someone else, and I'm afraid that I can't fix it, because the problem will still be there."
Derek tilted his head. "You wanted to protect yourself from getting hurt?" he guessed.
Reid shook his head, looking up at Derek, and this time there was a deep sadness in Reid's eyes. "Protect Jack."
"Hotch's son."
Nodding, Reid looked away. "I've spent the last seventeen years wondering what was wrong with me that my dad didn't want me, didn't want to be around me, didn't even want to call or write or attempt any sort of communication. What if . . . what if Haley sees my relationship with Aaron as a reason to keep Jack away, to deny Aaron visitation? I don't want to be the reason that Jack grows up without his father, or the reason that Aaron can't see his son."
Derek noted the use of Hotch's first name. Reid had called the Unit Chief 'Hotch' while on the job today. He'd apparently compartmentalized the two - Hotch for work and Aaron for personal life.
"Don't you think that's a decision Hotch needs to make?" Derek couldn't bring himself to call the man Aaron, but then again, he wasn't the one sleeping with Hotch. Of course, it was likely that Reid wasn't either, at the moment, given that Reid and Derek were sharing this hotel room. "Yeah, he loves his son, but I've seen him look at you, Reid. I saw the two of you after we got you back from that underground residence. I've never seen him look at anyone else like that - not even Haley." Reid's head snapped toward Derek at that. "He loves you, man. Maybe losing Jack is a risk he's willing to take in order to be with the person he loves."
Reid was silent for a long time, his eyes sliding from Derek's to the wall behind Derek, not really seeing anything. "Jack needs his father," he finally said. He went back to the case file, and his body language changed, indicating to Derek that he was done talking about the situation.
Derek sighed, getting up and picking up the autopsy report that was on the verge of falling off Reid's bed. "So, find anything new?"
Reid gave Derek a grateful look at the change in conversation, and they dove back into the case.
The plane ride back to Virginia was quiet. JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss were at the main table, playing cards, while Dave was sitting back in one of the corners, a book open on the table in front of him. Spencer was stretched out on the couch, eyes closed and body loose in sleep. Aaron sat in one of the chairs and watched Spencer sleep. A soft noise from across the aisle got his attention, and he turned to see Rossi looking at him. "You should just go to him," Dave said, nodding toward Spencer.
"It's inappropriate," Aaron said, glaring at Dave for the suggestion.
"Hotch, it's just us on the plane. Nobody's going to say anything. You think we really care if you go sit by Reid?"
"He's right, man," Morgan said from the card game. "We don't. At least I don't."
"I don't," Prentiss said.
"I don't, and I'll even make sure Morgan doesn't take pictures to send to Garcia," JJ added before putting her cards down. "Gin."
"So you're not going to stop Prentiss from taking pictures? And you've been taking cheating lessons from Reid," Morgan accused.
"I wouldn't take pictures," Prentiss said. "Hotch would send me to the Anchorage Field Office if I did."
"Long term surveillance assignment in Montana, with no internet or bookstores, just cows. Maybe some sheep," Spencer replied from the couch, his eyes still closed. "Trust me, Kevin would help me ensure it."
Aaron couldn't repress the chuckle at Spencer's statement, especially given their conversation before their relationship had gone to hell. Then a thought from their time together in the underground residence came to him. "And moose from Canada following Molly the Moose Whisper?" he couldn't help asking. The team frowned at him, but after a moment, Spencer started laughing.
"It was Meg the Moose Whisperer, and yes, probably," he said, lifting his head up to give Aaron a knowing grin.
"I missed something," Morgan said, just as JJ asked "Moose?"
"Location joke," Spencer said. "You had to be there."
"There being underground?" Dave asked.
Aaron and Spencer both nodded, and the others exchanged glances. There was some relief in those glances, as if they were glad to see Aaron and Spencer on joking terms. There was also a little confusion, as Aaron rarely showed what little sense of humor he had. Not to mention, moose were not generally a topic of conversation in the United States. At least, not the lower forty-nine states, Aaron amended. Alaska was probably another story.
Spencer put his head down and closed his eyes again. Aaron settled back into his seat, looking at Dave, daring him to say anything. Dave merely looked back, and eventually Aaron looked away, closing his eyes and pretending to rest.
Once back at Quantico, Dave watched as Reid left with Prentiss, Morgan, JJ, and Garcia, heading out to get a drink before retiring to their homes. Aaron was still in his office, working on paperwork. Sighing, Dave knocked on Aaron's door. "Go home, Aaron."
Aaron didn't even look up. "I need to finish this paperwork," he said.
"You've been back, what, five days? You can take the night off, you know. It will still be here on Monday morning. Or," Dave mused, dropping into one of the chairs in front of Aaron's desk, "are you just not wanting to go home?"
Aaron glanced up at him, then went back to the paperwork. "Dave," he said warningly.
"Come on, Aaron, you can't work 24/7. You'll burn out, worse than I did, worse than Gideon did. I don't want to see that happen to you, my friend."
"You're assuming I won't be doing work if I go home," Aaron said, signing something and closing the folder it was in. He put in his out box and looked back up at Dave. "Really, Dave, I'm fine."
Dave got up and pulled the next folder out of Aaron's hand. "Go home. Call Spencer. He went out for a drink with the rest of the team, but still, call him and work this out. We've all got the weekend off." He held up the folder. "This can wait." When Aaron started to protest, Dave cut him off. "Aaron, go."
With a glare that promised severe retribution, Aaron stood and grabbed his jacket and briefcase. Dave tossed the folder on his desk and walked out with Aaron.
Author:kyrdwyn
Rating: NC-17/FRAO (For Adults Only)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Genre: Slash, Slight AU
Summary: When Aaron and Spencer are trapped together by an unsub, things change between them while the team searches for their lost friends.
Spoilers, Warnings, and Author's Notes located in Part 1.
All parts are located at This Tag
"What the hell happened to you?"
Morgan's bluntly cheerful greeting as he came into the bullpen caused Spencer to wince. "Las Vegas," he said with a shrug, deciding to leave the previous night's argument with Aaron out of the conversation. He hadn't slept very well the night before, replaying the argument over and over in his head.
"Right." Morgan's tone of voice made it clear that he wasn't buying it.
"God, you looked better when we rescued you from that underground residence," Prentiss said bluntly as she entered, coffee in hand. "What the hell happened?"
Spencer resisted the urge to throw his pen at the two of them. "Las Vegas," he replied again.
"Reid, you're a terrible liar." Prentiss perched herself on the corner of Spencer's desk, looking down at him. "The most exciting thing you did in Las Vegas was probably play video poker at the airport."
"Hotel bar, actually," he said. "Won a couple of grand."
"So why do you look like someone just ran you over with a truck?" Morgan said.
Spencer didn't answer, instead just sighing. "Can we drop this, please?"
"Drop what?" Rossi asked as he came into the bullpen. "Reid, you look like hell."
"Is there a broken record in here?" he asked, throwing his hands up in the air and managing to hit Morgan with his pen as it flew out of his hands, making him feel a bit better as Morgan let out a little exclamation of surprise and pain. "I took Morgan's advice, went to Las Vegas, got cleared to come back to work, and came back. Yes, I apparently look like hell. I'm sure I'll look better after chasing down our next sexual sadist or psychopathic serial killer. And no," he said, looking at Prentiss and Morgan, "I did not do anything that would require drug testing."
"No one said anything about drug testing, man," Morgan said, holding up his hands in protest.
"You were thinking it," Spencer said. He turned back to the file on his desk, feeling the other three exchange looks behind his head.
"We're just concerned for a friend, Spencer," Rossi said carefully.
"I'm fine," Spencer said in reply, not looking at them. The fact that Rossi had actually used Spencer's first name was an indication of the depth of his concern. He could feel them exchanging looks again. "Don't even threaten to sic Garcia on me," he said. "She'll wonder why I look like hell, I'll tell her I'm fine, and no, I won't say anything to her that I haven't said to the three of you."
"You don't need to say anything, Reid," Rossi said. "I think we just got our answer."
Spencer looked up in time to catch Aaron crossing the bullpen, looking as bad as Spencer felt. He glanced at the four of them, nodded, and headed up the stairs to his office, not saying a word. Spencer felt Morgan's hand settle on his shoulder. "Anytime you need a friend, man," he said softly.
"I'm fine," Spencer said again, this time without any real heat or emotion. He did glance over at his three team mates, his friends. "But thanks for the offer."
"You look like hell," Dave said with no preamble as he walked into Aaron's office and closed the door behind him.
"Good morning to you, too," Aaron said, flipping through the files on his desk. "I trust everything was fine while I was out on leave these past two weeks?"
"Caught a rather nasty serial arsonist in California," Dave told him as he dropped into one of the chairs in front of Aaron's desk. "But I didn't come here to discuss cases. I came here to discuss why two of my friends look like hell."
"I'm fine."
Dave snorted. "Reid said the same thing. I didn't believe him, either. What happened, Aaron?"
Aaron sighed, bringing his hand up to rub his temples with his thumb and forefinger. "Just a hard time adjusting to reality, I guess."
Dave was silent for a few moments, and Aaron went back to the files on his desk. "You break it off with him, or vice versa?"
Damn, when had Dave gotten so good at reading him? "We didn't break it off. We just . . . we had an argument, and he left to go back to his apartment," Aaron said, finally looking up at Dave, who was listening with a neutral expression. "He didn't want to be the reason that I lost Jack."
Dave nodded. "When was this?"
"Last night."
"So you were together before then?"
"After he got back from Las Vegas four days ago." Aaron sighed. "He didn't even want to go back to his apartment, Dave. Did you know that since we were rescued, he only spent two nights in his apartment, and one was last night? After Miranda Adams Harrison took him from his apartment, he told me he was practically jumping at every knock on the door."
"Understandable," Dave said.
"You think he was right to leave, that we should break it off." Aaron got up from his chair and walked to the window, looking out.
"I'm not saying that," Dave said. "But I can understand what Reid's thinking. He hasn't seen his father in, what, seventeen years? That's a long time to go without a father, Aaron. Then add in Gideon and his manner of leaving, and it's enough to make anyone not want to be the cause of another child going through those emotions, much less someone as perceptive and smart as Reid."
"I know, Dave." Aaron leaned against the wall, still looking out the window. "I'm tired of other people deciding what's best for me, for our relationships. Haley walked out, Spencer walked out. When do I get a say in things?"
Silence reigned in the room for several moments. Aaron heard Dave shift in his chair. "Are you willing to risk not getting to see Jack again to be with Spencer?"
"Maybe." Aaron loved his son more than anything, except Spencer. The love was different, but right now, Spencer would be in his life more often than Jack would. He wanted that, he needed that. "I need to talk to Haley."
"Aaron, if you tell Haley, she could easily turn around and tell Strauss. Your career would be finished, and I know Haley isn't exactly a fan of your work. Aren't you afraid she might do so out of spite?"
"It's always a possibility," Aaron admitted, "but I have to try, Dave. If I don't, I'm afraid that this will always be an issue between Spencer and I. Yes, I know we'll have problems, yes the job will be an issue, but I don't want my son to be an issue. I'd like Spencer to be able to be around when Jack is."
"I can't tell you what to do, Aaron, but I hope you know what you're doing, because this could blow up in your face so fast that you won't know what's happened."
"Well, at least I'll be leaving the unit in good hands," Aaron said with a wry smile at Dave.
"Oh hell no," Rossi said. "I'm more than happy to not be the boss."
"Then maybe you should hope that Haley takes this well," Aaron said. "Now, I think we have cases to brief," he said, looking out the window into the bullpen and seeing JJ hovering by Prentiss' desk, shooting glances toward Aaron's office.
Derek Morgan unlocked the door to the hotel room in a suburb of Des Moines, Iowa, and blinked as he realized someone was sitting on one of the beds already. Then he remembered there was a convention in town, and the team had to double up on rooms. Prentiss and JJ were sharing, obviously. Derek had assumed he'd been sharing with Rossi, but Reid was the person on the bed, the case file spread out in a semi circle around him. Reid looked up from the report he was reading. "Hey."
"What are you doing here?"
"Studying the case before I try to get some sleep," Reid replied matter of factly, turning the page. He shifted, uncurling one leg from underneath him and stretching it out.
"Shouldn't you be sharing with Hotch?"
Reid looked up and gave Derek a glance he couldn't interpret. "No, Rossi's sharing with Hotch."
Derek frowned, letting the door shut behind him. "Reid, what's going on with the two of you?"
"Nothing."
Derek sat down on the empty bed, facing Reid. "Come on, pretty boy, talk to me."
"Don't call me that." Reid's gaze was as cold as his voice. Derek leaned back as if Reid had threatened him physically. Then again, considering Reid's revolver was within arm's reach on the night stand, Reid very well could threaten him with bodily injury.
"I've called you that for years," Derek said carefully, surprised by the reaction. He briefly wondered if Miranda Adams Harrison had referred to Reid as that. He didn't think Hotch would have, or that Reid would have reacted so negatively to it.
"I've hated being called it for years," Reid responded, going back to the report.
"Then why didn't you say anything? I would have stopped using it." Derek might tease the younger man, call him 'kid' and 'genius boy' and 'pretty boy', but if Reid had ever seriously said anything to indicate that he didn't like the nicknames, Derek would have stopped.
"Because I wanted to be accepted. The use of nicknames in a closed society can be considered a sign of either acceptance or of dislike, and as much as I hated it, you never said it as if it were an epithet, or used it as an expression of sexual desire or other non-friendly purposes. Not the way some of the pedophile unsubs did when they called me that on custodial interviews."
Derek felt a chill go through his body. "Wait, who called you that?" He wanted to track down the unsubs and beat them into a pulp for daring to call Reid that. Granted, Derek knew some of them would have done it merely to try to disconcert Reid, but the fact that they did, and Reid hadn't told anyone, not even Hotch he'd bet, angered him.
Reid waved a hand dismissively. "It's not important, Morgan. I just don't want to be called it again. At least not by someone I consider to be my friend." He looked up at Derek, his hazel eyes reflecting an emotion Derek wasn't sure he'd seen before. "My best friend."
Derek swallowed. Reid had never said that before. "I promise, Reid," he said seriously, meeting Reid's gaze squarely. "I won't call you that again. And if I slip up and say it, you can smack me upside the head."
Reid gave him a grin. "I'm so totally going to hold you to that. In front of Hotch and Rossi if necessary. And Garcia."
Derek fell back on his bed with a mock groan. "I'm doomed. Garcia will have video of that on the FBI intranet three minutes after it happens."
"And I will replay it for years," Reid replied with a chuckle.
Derek raised his head, pleased by the smile on Reid's face. He pushed himself back up to a sitting position. "Seriously, though, Reid, you know you can talk to me about anything. I won't judge. You and Hotch went through something I don't think I can fully understand, you have a bond that I won't ever fully understand, but as your friend, I'm more than willing to listen."
Reid's smile faded, and he looked down at the case file. "I think I screwed up," he finally said. "I may have pushed him away to protect someone else, and I'm afraid that I can't fix it, because the problem will still be there."
Derek tilted his head. "You wanted to protect yourself from getting hurt?" he guessed.
Reid shook his head, looking up at Derek, and this time there was a deep sadness in Reid's eyes. "Protect Jack."
"Hotch's son."
Nodding, Reid looked away. "I've spent the last seventeen years wondering what was wrong with me that my dad didn't want me, didn't want to be around me, didn't even want to call or write or attempt any sort of communication. What if . . . what if Haley sees my relationship with Aaron as a reason to keep Jack away, to deny Aaron visitation? I don't want to be the reason that Jack grows up without his father, or the reason that Aaron can't see his son."
Derek noted the use of Hotch's first name. Reid had called the Unit Chief 'Hotch' while on the job today. He'd apparently compartmentalized the two - Hotch for work and Aaron for personal life.
"Don't you think that's a decision Hotch needs to make?" Derek couldn't bring himself to call the man Aaron, but then again, he wasn't the one sleeping with Hotch. Of course, it was likely that Reid wasn't either, at the moment, given that Reid and Derek were sharing this hotel room. "Yeah, he loves his son, but I've seen him look at you, Reid. I saw the two of you after we got you back from that underground residence. I've never seen him look at anyone else like that - not even Haley." Reid's head snapped toward Derek at that. "He loves you, man. Maybe losing Jack is a risk he's willing to take in order to be with the person he loves."
Reid was silent for a long time, his eyes sliding from Derek's to the wall behind Derek, not really seeing anything. "Jack needs his father," he finally said. He went back to the case file, and his body language changed, indicating to Derek that he was done talking about the situation.
Derek sighed, getting up and picking up the autopsy report that was on the verge of falling off Reid's bed. "So, find anything new?"
Reid gave Derek a grateful look at the change in conversation, and they dove back into the case.
The plane ride back to Virginia was quiet. JJ, Morgan, and Prentiss were at the main table, playing cards, while Dave was sitting back in one of the corners, a book open on the table in front of him. Spencer was stretched out on the couch, eyes closed and body loose in sleep. Aaron sat in one of the chairs and watched Spencer sleep. A soft noise from across the aisle got his attention, and he turned to see Rossi looking at him. "You should just go to him," Dave said, nodding toward Spencer.
"It's inappropriate," Aaron said, glaring at Dave for the suggestion.
"Hotch, it's just us on the plane. Nobody's going to say anything. You think we really care if you go sit by Reid?"
"He's right, man," Morgan said from the card game. "We don't. At least I don't."
"I don't," Prentiss said.
"I don't, and I'll even make sure Morgan doesn't take pictures to send to Garcia," JJ added before putting her cards down. "Gin."
"So you're not going to stop Prentiss from taking pictures? And you've been taking cheating lessons from Reid," Morgan accused.
"I wouldn't take pictures," Prentiss said. "Hotch would send me to the Anchorage Field Office if I did."
"Long term surveillance assignment in Montana, with no internet or bookstores, just cows. Maybe some sheep," Spencer replied from the couch, his eyes still closed. "Trust me, Kevin would help me ensure it."
Aaron couldn't repress the chuckle at Spencer's statement, especially given their conversation before their relationship had gone to hell. Then a thought from their time together in the underground residence came to him. "And moose from Canada following Molly the Moose Whisper?" he couldn't help asking. The team frowned at him, but after a moment, Spencer started laughing.
"It was Meg the Moose Whisperer, and yes, probably," he said, lifting his head up to give Aaron a knowing grin.
"I missed something," Morgan said, just as JJ asked "Moose?"
"Location joke," Spencer said. "You had to be there."
"There being underground?" Dave asked.
Aaron and Spencer both nodded, and the others exchanged glances. There was some relief in those glances, as if they were glad to see Aaron and Spencer on joking terms. There was also a little confusion, as Aaron rarely showed what little sense of humor he had. Not to mention, moose were not generally a topic of conversation in the United States. At least, not the lower forty-nine states, Aaron amended. Alaska was probably another story.
Spencer put his head down and closed his eyes again. Aaron settled back into his seat, looking at Dave, daring him to say anything. Dave merely looked back, and eventually Aaron looked away, closing his eyes and pretending to rest.
Once back at Quantico, Dave watched as Reid left with Prentiss, Morgan, JJ, and Garcia, heading out to get a drink before retiring to their homes. Aaron was still in his office, working on paperwork. Sighing, Dave knocked on Aaron's door. "Go home, Aaron."
Aaron didn't even look up. "I need to finish this paperwork," he said.
"You've been back, what, five days? You can take the night off, you know. It will still be here on Monday morning. Or," Dave mused, dropping into one of the chairs in front of Aaron's desk, "are you just not wanting to go home?"
Aaron glanced up at him, then went back to the paperwork. "Dave," he said warningly.
"Come on, Aaron, you can't work 24/7. You'll burn out, worse than I did, worse than Gideon did. I don't want to see that happen to you, my friend."
"You're assuming I won't be doing work if I go home," Aaron said, signing something and closing the folder it was in. He put in his out box and looked back up at Dave. "Really, Dave, I'm fine."
Dave got up and pulled the next folder out of Aaron's hand. "Go home. Call Spencer. He went out for a drink with the rest of the team, but still, call him and work this out. We've all got the weekend off." He held up the folder. "This can wait." When Aaron started to protest, Dave cut him off. "Aaron, go."
With a glare that promised severe retribution, Aaron stood and grabbed his jacket and briefcase. Dave tossed the folder on his desk and walked out with Aaron.