Fic: Blaze with the Glory by kyrdwyn (Criminal Minds, Hotchner/Reid, FRM)
Fic: Blaze with the Glory
Author: kyrdwyn
Rating: FRM (Fan Rated Mature)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Genre: Alternate Universe
Spoilers: 1.15 "Unfinished Business", 2.14 "The Big Game", 2.15 "Revelations", 3.02 "In Name and Blood", 3.06 "About Face, 3.07 "Identity", 3.14 "Damaged", 3.16 "Elephant's Memory", 4.12 "Soul Mates"
Beta Goddesses: sweetsubbie and kageygirl. Remaining mistakes are mine because I wouldn't stop playing with the fic.
Author's Notes: So, this started as an idea for a bit of crack!fic based on a line in ep 4.12 "Soul Mates". Then it starting taking itself seriously and became a full blown AU. I have no control over the plot bunnies, I apologize. Liberties have been taken with episodes because, well, AU. Additionally, I don't own Criminal Minds, and I promise to return the characters relatively unscathed when I'm done.
If the relationship of father to son could really be reduced to biology, the whole earth would blaze with the glory of fathers and sons. James Baldwin
March 1982
Dave Rossi stared at the bundle and basket on the steps of the bunker that housed the BAU. "It's a what?"
"A baby," Jason Gideon said.
"Who leaves a baby on the steps of the FBI?" Rossi shook his head.
"Someone who wanted to ensure he was found?" Jason replied as he picked up the baby and headed into the building. Dave followed. Max Ryan was waiting inside, having decided not to brave the biting D.C. wind.
Jason unwrapped the bundle, revealing a round face topped by dark blond hair. Green eyes regarded the three men thoughtfully.
"He looks well taken care of," Max commented.
"Have we notified CPS?" Dave asked.
"So he can grow up in foster care?" Jason frowned. He pulled an envelope from a fold of the blanket. "His parents left a note."
Max grabbed it and opened it. "This is my son, Spencer Reid," he read. "The fascist government tells me I can't take care of him properly. Therefore the government should raise him in my place. All the documents are enclosed giving up my parental rights in favor of..." Max stopped and looked up, stunned.
"Who?" Dave asked.
"Special Agent David Rossi."
Dave looked down at the infant, automatically taking him when Jason maneuvered him into Dave's arms. "I'm not father material!" he protested, even at the infant - as Spencer - seemingly snuggled into Dave's arms and closed his eyes in contentment.
"I think he likes you," Max said with a grin. "You should give it a try."
Dave frowned at his colleagues before looking down at Spencer again. "Oh, hell, no."
But he knew it was a losing battle. Spencer had apparently claimed Dave for his own.
September 1992
Dave looked up and smiled as his son made his way into the bunker. "Hey, Spence!" he said warmly, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair. Spencer scowled and ran a hand over the short strands to smooth them back down. He handed Dave an envelope with a familiar logo on it. "Spencer," Dave sighed, taking the envelope. He ran his eyes over his son's school uniform, seeing that Spencer's shirt was tucked in, his blazer was unstained, and while his tie was loose and the top button of his shirt undone, that was normal for Spencer after he'd left the school grounds for the day - nothing that would result in Spencer getting detention.
"Hey, Spencer!" Jason Gideon walked by, a folder in his hand. He patted Spencer on the shoulder, earning a bright smile from the ten-year-old. "You look more like an FBI agent than your dad does," Jason added, glancing at Rossi's jeans.
"You're not exactly Mr. Fashion yourself," Dave retorted, opening the letter from Spencer's principal. He read it, then looked back up at Spencer. "Arguing with Father Michelli again, Spencer?"
"Dad, he was trying to convince the class that seventy people in seventy separate rooms all came up with the same exact and identical translation-" Spencer began, stopping when Dave cut him off with a raised hand.
"Spencer, it's theology. It's faith."
"But the odds--" He stopped again when Dave pulled him into a tight hug.
"Are astronomical, I know, Spence. But that doesn't make Father Michelli wrong." Dave paused. "The odds would say that I shouldn't have adopted an unknown infant and loved him as my son, you know." Dave saw Jason's frame move and looked up to see the other profiler stifling a laugh. Dave glared at him and Jason just smirked before walking back to his desk.
Spencer's arms eventually went around Dave. "I know, Dad," he said. "I love you, too," he whispered softly. He eventually pulled back, and Dave let him go, knowing Spencer wasn't big on open displays of paternal affection. Especially not in front of the BAU agents he so admired. "So, can I see what you're working on?" Spencer asked brightly.
"Oh, hell, no," Dave said. "You're too young. I don't care how much of a genius you are."
"Dad!" Spencer protested.
"Only ten more years till we can recruit you, and then you can see all the gruesome murders you can stand," Jason said as he walked by again.
"Stop trying to corrupt my son," Dave scowled. He knew Spencer wanted to join the BAU, but that didn't mean Dave didn't want something better for his son, something that didn't involve serial killers. It was bad enough they kept him away from home so often, leaving Spencer in the care of Mrs. Thomas, their live-in housekeeper. Marie, Dave's ex-wife, hadn't taken kindly to her then-husband bringing home an unknown infant, and had left Dave when Spencer was less than a year old. It had pretty much been the two of them since.
"Can I help it if the kid's on his way to being a hell of a profiler?" Jason asked with a grin. Dave scowled more, but didn't respond. Jason damn well knew he could help it - he'd practically been grooming Spencer for the BAU ever since Spencer's incredible mental abilities had manifested themselves.
"Come on, Spence," Dave said, standing up. "Let's let Agent Gideon get back to work, and you and I will head out for pizza."
"Cool!" Spencer said, and Dave couldn't help ruffling Spencer's hair again. Spencer didn't scowl this time, giving his father a smile that Dave couldn't help returning.
July 1998
"I think there's someone in your house," Hotch said, slowing the car down as he pulled onto Dave's street. "Lights are on."
Dave peered at the house, looking down at his watch and swearing in Italian when he realized what time - and what day - it was. "It's probably my son," he said. "He was due back from college today. I forgot about picking him up at the airport," he added with a sigh. Spencer had probably waited a while before calling a cab, but Dave hated not being there to pick Spence up.
"You don't talk about your son much," Hotch said, and Dave turned to look at the younger agent, who reminded Dave of a cross between James Bond and a Wall Street power broker.
"That's because Spencer is best experienced in person," Dave said with a grin. "Come on in, I'll introduce you."
They headed up the walkway and Dave unlocked the front door. "Hey Spencer, it's Dad," he called out.
Spencer's head appeared in the living room from the kitchen, followed by the rest of his lanky frame. "Dad! Wasn't sure when you'd be back," he said, returning the hug Dave gave him. God, Spencer had gotten taller at college.
"I wasn't sure myself, and I apologize for forgetting to pick you up."
"That's okay, Jason was at the airport. He said you were out on a case."
Dave narrowed his eyes. "He knows he's still not allowed to recruit you."
Spencer grinned, but turned to Hotch and held out a hand. "Spencer Reid," he said, "Dave's son."
Hotch shook Spencer's hand. "Aaron Hotchner."
Spencer's eyes lit up. "You're the prosecutor from the William Youngston trial," he said. "You got him to break on the stand, when even Jason couldn't get him to confess. I've read the transcripts. If you have time I'd love to talk to you about the methods you used."
Hotch's eyebrows had risen at Spencer's enthusiasm, and Dave grinned. "Spencer has been hanging around the BAU since he was six months old," Dave explained. "He's currently at Cal Tech getting his Bachelors in Psychology and Sociology while finishing up his dissertations in Physics and Chemistry."
Hotch blinked as Spencer said, "You forgot my Engineering Ph.D., Dad."
"Yes, but you already earned that, Spencer." Dave suddenly paused. "Is that lasagna I smell?"
"Oh! Yeah, I got hungry, figured lasagna would keep for a few days even if you didn't get home tonight." Spencer turned around and hurried back into the kitchen. Dave turned to Hotch, who was staring at where Spencer had disappeared to, his eyebrows well above where they usually rested.
"How old is he?" Hotch asked.
Dave chuckled. "Sixteen. He's also a genius - IQ of 187, eidetic memory, reads twenty thousand words a minute. Jason's been trying to recruit him into the Bureau since he was six at least. "
"You don't want him following in your footsteps?" Hotch glanced over at the kitchen.
Dave sighed. "I think Spencer can do anything he damn well pleases with that brain of his, and I want him to have the chance to find out what he wants to do. Jason has no business trying to groom my son for just one profession without taking Spencer's feelings - or mine - into account."
Hotch nodded. "What if he wants to join the Bureau?"
"Then I'll finally retire and write that book I keep thinking about, let him have the chance to be himself without his old man around watching his every move. Fortunately, Spencer and I don't share the same last name. Be easier for him."
"I noticed that," Hotch said carefully.
"Adopted, when Spencer was six months old. It's a long story, but I decided he should keep his last name, let him at least have something from his birth parents." Dave paused. "His father was killed in a car accident when his mother was six months pregnant. She's a paranoid schizophrenic; thought the government had murdered her husband. When Nevada's Child and Family Services starting nosing around after Spencer was born - he was born in Las Vegas - she decided that the government should be required to raise Spencer if they were saying she wasn't fit. She just wanted it on her own terms. I'd just finished a child rapist case in Nevada and was on the news after the arrest. So she chose me."
"I'm surprised the courts let you keep him."
Dave looked at Aaron. "It wasn't easy, but his mother was perfectly lucid when we got her in front of a judge to terminate her parental rights." He looked over at the picture of himself and Spencer that hung in the hallway, taken at Spencer's high school graduation. "They wanted to take him away from me at first, put him in foster care. My response was 'oh, hell, no,' backed up by Gideon and Ryan and the rest of the BAU. They finally got the message."
"Are you staying for dinner, Agent Hotchner?" Spencer called from the kitchen.
"It's Hotch," the man replied, "and sure." He smiled at Dave, who gestured for Hotch to precede him down the hall. "Haley's visiting her family. A home cooked meal sounds wonderful right now."
Dave reached out and ruffled Spencer's hair (grown longer now, Dave wasn't sure about it, but he wouldn't say anything, figuring it helped Spence fit in) as they entered the kitchen. "Watch out, Spencer's a genius in the classroom and the kitchen. We'll never get rid of you once you've eaten Spencer's lasagna."
Spencer pushed his hair back out of his face and gave his father a mock scowl. "As opposed to your cooking, which would have him calling CPS for abuse."
Dave and Hotch chuckled as they sat down for dinner. Dave grinned at his son, pleased that Spencer was home. This case had been bad, but no matter how bad they got, Spencer always reminded him of why he still did this.
"Oh god, this is good," Hotch said from across the table, taking his first bite.
"Told you," Dave said, digging into his piece, giving Spencer a smile that his son returned happily before he, too, started eating.
April 1999
"You sure about this, Dave?"
Dave finished tossing his personal effects into the box and nodded at Aaron. "The way things are going these days, I'm not sure I can keep doing this." He looked up at Aaron, who nodded, understanding Waco, Ruby Ridge, Oklahoma City, and all the other cases that still haunted Dave had finally gotten to be too much. "Besides, Spencer's already signed on the dotted line," he said. "He'll start the Academy next year. By the time he gets to the BAU, only you and Jason should know he's my son." He put the top on the box. "Watch out for him, will you?" Dave asked, needing to hear that Aaron would look after Spencer. The two men had become friends, like Spencer and Jason, but at least Aaron didn't view Spencer as a tool to be used in catching unsubs, but as a person.
"I will." He stepped forward to shake Dave's hand. "Take care of yourself, Dave."
"You too, Aaron."
"Going to stay away from those crime novel groupies?"
"Oh, hell, no," Dave replied with a grin.
Aaron shook his head.
January 2007
Dave flung open the front door of his house as soon as he saw the headlights of Aaron's car pull up. Aaron had called from Andrews, saying that he was bringing Spencer home. He hadn't given Dave any more details on the case in Georgia. All Dave had known had come from Aaron's first phone call - that Spencer had been kidnapped by the unsub, and the team was not going to stop until they got Spencer back.
Dave couldn't recall the last time he'd prayed so long and so hard as he had while waiting for news of his son. Not even when Spencer had been hospitalized for having bronchitis and the chicken pox as a child had Dave been so scared for his son's life.
He hurried out to Aaron's car, pulling open the passenger door. Spencer practically fell out of the car into Dave's arms. "I've got you, son," Dave murmured, feeling Spencer's thin frame shaking against him. He pulled Spencer into a tighter hug. "I've got you."
"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The soft chant nearly broke Dave's heart, and he looked over at Aaron, who shook his head.
"It's all right, Spence," Dave murmured back. "I forgive you. I love you. Always will."
Spencer's shaking seemed to ease then. Aaron came around to help, and the two of them got Spencer into the house and to the spare room that Spencer always used. Dave pulled a pair of pajamas from the dresser and Aaron left the room discreetly, letting Dave help his son undress and put on the pajamas.
Each physical wound was an emotional blow to Dave. His son shouldn't be going through this. He should be in front of a classroom, teaching a safe subject. Not becoming the victim of an unknown subject.
The needle marks on Spencer's right arm were the most devastating. "Spencer?" Dave asked softly, fingers hovering over the skin.
"Tobias. . . kept injecting me with Dilaudid. He thought it would help me escape, at least mentally." Spencer suddenly grabbed Dave's hand with surprising strength. "Dad, I'm sorry."
"You're forgiven," Dave said again, knowing that Spencer needed forgiveness for reasons he wasn't ready to tell Dave about yet. Still, Dave would forgive his son anything at this moment. Spencer was alive, and home.
He helped Spencer under the covers, holding onto his son's hand as Spencer closed his eyes. "I love you, Spence," he said again, wanting his son to hear the words again - and Dave needed to say them.
"Love you, Dad," Spencer said sleepily.
Dave waited until he was sure Spencer was asleep before leaving the room to talk to Aaron. He left a light on to ensure that Spencer wouldn't be too disoriented if he woke up.
Aaron was standing in the living room, just staring at the floor. Dave walked past him to the liquor cabinet, pouring two generous glasses of Scotch. He handed one to Aaron and took a swallow of his. "What the hell happened?"
Aaron finished his drink in two gulps. "What we thought were multiple unsubs turned out to be one unsub with multiple personalities." He set the glass down hard. "One of the personalities was forcing Spencer to dig his own grave when we found him. We distracted the unsub, and Spencer took his gun and shot him."
Dave dropped onto the couch. "God." He drained the rest of his glass.
"No one realized Hankel was the unsub. I wouldn't have sent Spencer and JJ to talk to him alone if there had been even the slightest--"
"I know, Aaron. You would never put an agent in danger on purpose." Dave looked up. "I don't blame you."
Aaron nodded. "Thanks." He sighed. "Spencer gave us the clues we needed to find him. Even when Hankel's personalities were forcing Spencer to choose one of his teammates to die, Spencer made sure his choice led us to him." At Dave's look, Aaron shrugged. "He chose me, using an argument we'd been having on narcissism to alert me and misquoting the Bible to give us his location."
"He called you a narcissist?" Jason would have been a better candidate for that term, in Dave's eyes.
"That's how I knew he was trying to give me a clue." Aaron looked down the hall toward Spencer's room. "He didn't say anything in front of the team, but I knew he wanted to see you."
"Thank you," Dave said in a choked whisper. When Aaron looked back, Dave added, "For saving my son. I don't know--" he broke off, feeling tears run down his cheeks. When Aaron pulled Dave into a hug, Dave didn't resist.
*~*
Dave stood in Spencer's room and watched him sleep. He'd wanted to tell Aaron that Spencer would be leaving the BAU, but he didn't have that right. Spencer was twenty-five, old enough to make his own decisions.
That didn't stop Dave from worrying every day about his son.
He carefully picked up Spencer's discarded clothing, frowning when something in the pocket of Spencer's pants made a click like glass hitting glass. Reaching inside, Dave pulled out two small vials, the labels proclaiming them to be Dilaudid.
Dave looked from the vials to Spencer's sleeping form. "Oh, hell, no," he whispered. He'd seen too many agents fight the demons of addiction. He was not going to stand by and let Spencer fall into that hole because of some bastard unsub.
Moving over to the bed, Dave leaned down and brushed a stray bit of hair from Spencer's face before kissing his son's temple. "Love you," he murmured. Spencer smiled in his sleep.
November 2007
Spencer stared at him when he walked across the bullpen behind Erin Strauss. His two colleagues, Morgan and Prentiss, were also staring at Dave, but Spencer belatedly was pulling a Frankenstein mask off his head. He still had the noose around his neck, and Dave really wished he could take a picture to put with the other pictures of Spencer in Halloween costumes over the years.
Once Strauss had left the office, Aaron gave Dave a serious look. "How is this going to work?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"It's not exactly FBI protocol to allow family members in the same unit."
"True. This is, admittedly, on a trial basis. It helps that few people know I'm Spencer's father."
"I need to make sure this won't be a problem in the field, Dave. You know how often we're in dangerous situations."
That was the question Dave had been asking himself since Spencer had told him that Jason Gideon had just up and left with only a note. It had just seemed like the right time to come back, to finish some unfinished business, but he'd wrestled with the question of being too over-protective of his son, especially after the Georgia case and keeping Spencer from sinking into a drug-fueled cycle of self-destruction. "I can handle it," he said now.
"And Spencer? No son wants to see his father in that kind of situation either, Dave."
"He's an adult, he can handle it."
"He had no idea you were coming back. The shock on his face when I mentioned you were joining the team was genuine."
"Telling him would have been counter-productive, might have made other people wonder about us when he didn't react with shock."
Aaron frowned, but then JJ appeared in the doorway, and further discussion was left to another time as they turned their concentration to the case.
*~*
Dave smirked as he hesitated out of sight of the two profilers in his office. Spencer was in the doorway, looking back and seeing him. Dave nodded toward the door, knowing Spencer would take that as permission to profile him with the others, and mess with their heads at the same time. He could hear Prentiss talking about the wall color meaning he wanted to escape from the world, and Morgan saying he was surprised there weren't plaques and commendations on the walls. Dave wondered how Morgan was considered such a good profiler if he couldn't even figure out that as the painters had just left five seconds before Morgan had walked into the room, there hadn't been enough time for Dave to sneeze on the walls, much less hang a plaque or commendation.
"Whatever happened to the moratorium on inter-team profiling, guys?" Spencer asked.
"Come on, Reid, team? I don't think this guy knows the meaning of the word," Morgan replied. Dave winced, knowing Morgan was right. He'd screwed up on the case in Texas, thinking he knew better than the others. Both Aaron and Spencer had called him on it. When his own son was lecturing him on protocol, that meant he'd screwed up royally.
"Hm, I found something. Looks like some type of religious art. Original, maybe? Definitely expensive," Morgan was saying. Dave saw Spencer enter the room further, looking back at him. Dave knew his son would prefer not to have to hide their relationship like this, by joining his other teammates in invading his father's privacy, but Dave truly didn't mind. It wasn't like anything in the office was a secret from Spencer, at least.
"It's Renaissance art. If it's original. . ." Spencer trailed off thoughtfully.
"Is it?" Prentiss whispered.
"Dunno, kind of hard to tell," Spencer replied. Dave would have snorted if it wouldn't have betrayed his position. Spencer knew damn well it was original - he'd been with Dave when he'd bought it. "Means he's into the classics."
"What else?" Morgan asked. This should be good.
"Italian, strict Catholic upbringing, probably believes in redemption."
Dave entered the room then. "Oh, I believe in a lot of things," he said, making them all look at him. Spencer was the only one with the grace to look abashed at the moment, even with his father's implicit permission to profile him. Spencer had been exaggerating, though, and both of them knew it. He leaned against the doorjamb, his thumbs in the pocket of his jeans, not looking at the others in the room. "Catholic, yes. Italian-American, fifty-two years. Strict upbringing, not so much. Now the artwork, that's 15th century. Original, cost more than my first house," he added, moving into the room, enjoying the looks on Morgan and Prentiss' faces. "As for the wall color, it's just a base color. Painters'll come in and finish tomorrow." He took the picture from his son's hands. "Now if you're all finished, I think JJ and Hotch are ready for us. Isn't that how a team works?" he asked Morgan, smirking as the three of them left. Unfortunately, Spencer left first, so he couldn't share the smirk with his son. He'd have to wait until later.
*~*
"What the hell do you want? Can't you read?" the park manager asked.
Dave watched Spencer reach into his back pocket. "I'm not a salesman. I'm with the FBI." He held up his credentials.
"FBI?" the manager scoffed. "You're not serious! You look like a pipe cleaner with eyes. I could snap you like a twig."
At that, Dave had to step in, as a fellow agent though instead of a father. As a father he wanted to shoot the man for threatening his son. This was exactly what Aaron had been worried about when Dave came back - and what Dave had worried about, too. "But then. . ." Dave said as he stepped between Spencer and the manager, showing his own credentials, "he isn't alone." The manager backed down at that, for which Dave was grateful. Spencer would kill him if he'd shot the man, but Dave had never taken threats to his son's life well.
Threaten me all you want, he thought as he worked to convince the man to help them. But threaten my son? Oh, hell, no.
April 2008
"How did it really go?" Dave poured two glasses of wine and brought them over to the table where Spencer was already sitting, waiting for his father before starting to eat. "The custodial with Hardwick."
"He played with us, admitted that he was planning to kill us to prevent his execution, Hotch almost ended up in hand-to-hand combat with him, and I spent fifteen minutes bullshitting him on psychology until the guards got there."
Dave paused, his wineglass almost to his mouth. "If that's your idea of ultimately uneventful, I'd hate to see what you call eventful."
Spencer grinned as he dug into his food. "Having to talk down an armed delusional schizophrenic on a train in Texas with an FBI agent as a hostage when I'm not wearing Kevlar."
"I'll give you that," Dave said. "Wait, Hotch almost had to fight Hardwick?"
"He was protecting me," Spencer said with a shrug.
"And you protected him by bullshitting for fifteen minutes."
"As I told Hotch, I do my best work under intense terror."
Dave swallowed. "I'd rather you didn't have to."
"Dad," Spencer sighed. "It's the job." Spencer looked up. "I hated it when you were an agent and I was just a kid, not knowing if my dad was coming home."
Meeting his son's eyes, Dave just nodded, knowing there was nothing he could really say to that.
Spencer looked down at his food. "Morgan's starting to wonder about us, by the way. Keeps making subtle comments on us being really close. I think he's drawing the wrong conclusion."
"God, last thing we need are those rumors." Dave couldn't image the havoc that would wreak in the Bureau.
"Garcia knows."
"She what?" Dave dropped his fork.
"She knows. That you're my dad, I'm your son. Knows my history." He looked up and gave Dave a disbelieving look. "You really didn't think she wouldn't know? You're my emergency contact number, have been for years."
"Is she going to say anything to Morgan?"
"Nah, she's having too much fun watching him trying to figure things out. She did promise to step in if Morgan goes too far and it might jeopardize the team," he added.
"Good," Dave said, shaking his head. "I guess we're just too close for people who don't know."
"At least Hotch knows. It'll be bad enough when Morgan, Emily, and JJ find out. They'll feel betrayed," Spencer said. "I don't like doing that to them, even if it is a mandate from the brass."
"I don't either, Spence. Worse comes to worst, I'll retire again."
Spencer hummed. "Or I'll go teach at Georgetown. They're after me again."
"How many tries is this?"
"I've lost count." Spencer gave Dave an innocent look. Dave snorted.
"Watch yourself, young man. Your father always knows when you're lying."
"Hmmm, not always," Spencer said with a devious grin.
"Oh?" Dave sat back. Spencer didn't answer and finally Dave went back to his dinner. "Cheeky whelp," he muttered.
"I learned from the best," Spencer said smugly.
All Dave could do at that was smile.
~*~
Dave let himself into Spencer's apartment with his key. Spencer either wasn't home from the Bureau yet, or hadn't put the chain on his door when he'd gotten home. Dave suspected the latter after the case in Texas. He hadn't been that terrified for his son's life since the kidnapping in Georgia. Probably more terrified this time, since he'd been forced to stand there and watch as Spencer, without a weapon or vest, had talked down a teenaged killer intent on taking out a police station.
Spencer's clothing was scattered on the floor, and Dave had to grab the back of the couch when he tripped over Spencer's shirt. Dave leaned down to pick it up, then noticed the tie. It wasn't Spencer's tie - it was Aaron's. Glancing around the room, he saw other bits of Aaron's clothing resting where they'd landed. Dave blinked.
Spencer and Aaron. How long had that been going on without him noticing?
He finally registered voices coming from the bedroom. "Don't ever do that to me again, Spence," came Aaron's voice, low and full of emotion. "I can't lose you." There was a pause, and Dave had to strain to hear Aaron's next words. "I love you."
"I'm sorry, Aaron." Spencer replied. "I love you, I know I hurt you, but I couldn't --" His voice cut off and a low moan sounded a few moments later. Dave swallowed and crept out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.
Some things a father just didn't need to know about his son.
However, he and Aaron were definitely going to have to talk.
*~*
"Hurt him and there won't be a body left for the team to find."
Aaron's head snapped up with alacrity, confusion on his face. "What?" he asked.
"Spencer. My son. Hurt him and I will make sure there isn't a body left for the team to find." Dave settled into one of the chairs across from Aaron's desk, folding his hands across his stomach. "Don't think I couldn't do it."
"No, you probably could," Aaron acknowledged.
"Spencer didn't tell me, if that's what you're thinking," Dave said. "I went to check on him last night. Bit of a surprise to see your clothing in his living room and hear your voice in his bedroom." When Aaron opened his mouth, Dave held up a hand. "No. No details. You're my friend, but Spencer's my son. I do not want details."
"No details," Aaron agreed. He put his pen down. "It's not a fling, Dave. I just want you to know that. Not on my part."
Dave snorted. "Not on Spencer's part, either. He doesn't do flings. I think I could count on less than one hand the number of relationships he's had." Sighing, Dave looked up at Aaron, giving voice to his own private theory on Spencer's hesitancy to have a relationship. "Sometimes I wonder if he thinks that I'm going to decide that I made a mistake all those years ago when I adopted him."
"You didn't," Aaron said.
"I've never regretted it," Dave agreed. "Never."
"I've never doubted you," Spencer said from behind Dave. Turning, Dave saw him leaning against the doorjamb. "You're my dad," he said with a shrug. "The odds may have been astronomical against you adopting an unknown infant left on the steps of the FBI and loving him as your own son, but I've never doubted that you did just that."
Dave paused, then laughed, remembering that conversation in the old BAU bunker so long ago. He stood up and Spencer came over to hug him tightly. "I love you, Dad," Spencer whispered.
"Love you too, son." They held on tighter for a moment before Spencer pulled back, and Dave grinned at him. "Even if you're giving me Hotch as a potential son-in-law."
Spencer blushed, ducking his head. Behind Dave, Aaron chuckled. "You'd prefer Morgan?" he asked.
"Oh, hell, no," Dave protested with a laugh before turning serious. "I like Morgan, don't get me wrong, but . . . " he shrugged, even as he thought I think you and Spencer fit better emotionally. "Like I said, I just don't want details. Ever."
"I'm not giving you any," Spencer said. "But I might be persuaded to make my two favorite profilers dinner."
"I'm in," Aaron said quickly. Dave and Spencer shared a grin.
"Told you we'd never get rid of him once he'd tasted your lasagna," Dave said with a mock sigh.
"It was the gnocchi that sold me," Aaron said.
Spencer just grinned at the two of them.
January 2009
"Where did you find this kid?" the local detective asked after Spencer had explained how he'd come to the conclusion that there were two people writing in the blog.
Dave turned to him. "He was left in a basket on the steps of the FBI," he replied seriously. The detective gave Dave a look, obviously thinking Dave was mocking him.
Dave caught his son's gaze, and knew Spencer had heard his remark. They shared a smile, both knowing that day had been the best moment of Dave's life, even if Dave hadn't realized it at the time. He wouldn't give up his son for anything now - wouldn't change anything about that day.
But that didn't mean he couldn't tease Spencer with it now and again. After all, that was a perk of being a father.
Author: kyrdwyn
Rating: FRM (Fan Rated Mature)
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid
Genre: Alternate Universe
Spoilers: 1.15 "Unfinished Business", 2.14 "The Big Game", 2.15 "Revelations", 3.02 "In Name and Blood", 3.06 "About Face, 3.07 "Identity", 3.14 "Damaged", 3.16 "Elephant's Memory", 4.12 "Soul Mates"
Beta Goddesses: sweetsubbie and kageygirl. Remaining mistakes are mine because I wouldn't stop playing with the fic.
Author's Notes: So, this started as an idea for a bit of crack!fic based on a line in ep 4.12 "Soul Mates". Then it starting taking itself seriously and became a full blown AU. I have no control over the plot bunnies, I apologize. Liberties have been taken with episodes because, well, AU. Additionally, I don't own Criminal Minds, and I promise to return the characters relatively unscathed when I'm done.
If the relationship of father to son could really be reduced to biology, the whole earth would blaze with the glory of fathers and sons. James Baldwin
March 1982
Dave Rossi stared at the bundle and basket on the steps of the bunker that housed the BAU. "It's a what?"
"A baby," Jason Gideon said.
"Who leaves a baby on the steps of the FBI?" Rossi shook his head.
"Someone who wanted to ensure he was found?" Jason replied as he picked up the baby and headed into the building. Dave followed. Max Ryan was waiting inside, having decided not to brave the biting D.C. wind.
Jason unwrapped the bundle, revealing a round face topped by dark blond hair. Green eyes regarded the three men thoughtfully.
"He looks well taken care of," Max commented.
"Have we notified CPS?" Dave asked.
"So he can grow up in foster care?" Jason frowned. He pulled an envelope from a fold of the blanket. "His parents left a note."
Max grabbed it and opened it. "This is my son, Spencer Reid," he read. "The fascist government tells me I can't take care of him properly. Therefore the government should raise him in my place. All the documents are enclosed giving up my parental rights in favor of..." Max stopped and looked up, stunned.
"Who?" Dave asked.
"Special Agent David Rossi."
Dave looked down at the infant, automatically taking him when Jason maneuvered him into Dave's arms. "I'm not father material!" he protested, even at the infant - as Spencer - seemingly snuggled into Dave's arms and closed his eyes in contentment.
"I think he likes you," Max said with a grin. "You should give it a try."
Dave frowned at his colleagues before looking down at Spencer again. "Oh, hell, no."
But he knew it was a losing battle. Spencer had apparently claimed Dave for his own.
September 1992
Dave looked up and smiled as his son made his way into the bunker. "Hey, Spence!" he said warmly, reaching out to ruffle his son's hair. Spencer scowled and ran a hand over the short strands to smooth them back down. He handed Dave an envelope with a familiar logo on it. "Spencer," Dave sighed, taking the envelope. He ran his eyes over his son's school uniform, seeing that Spencer's shirt was tucked in, his blazer was unstained, and while his tie was loose and the top button of his shirt undone, that was normal for Spencer after he'd left the school grounds for the day - nothing that would result in Spencer getting detention.
"Hey, Spencer!" Jason Gideon walked by, a folder in his hand. He patted Spencer on the shoulder, earning a bright smile from the ten-year-old. "You look more like an FBI agent than your dad does," Jason added, glancing at Rossi's jeans.
"You're not exactly Mr. Fashion yourself," Dave retorted, opening the letter from Spencer's principal. He read it, then looked back up at Spencer. "Arguing with Father Michelli again, Spencer?"
"Dad, he was trying to convince the class that seventy people in seventy separate rooms all came up with the same exact and identical translation-" Spencer began, stopping when Dave cut him off with a raised hand.
"Spencer, it's theology. It's faith."
"But the odds--" He stopped again when Dave pulled him into a tight hug.
"Are astronomical, I know, Spence. But that doesn't make Father Michelli wrong." Dave paused. "The odds would say that I shouldn't have adopted an unknown infant and loved him as my son, you know." Dave saw Jason's frame move and looked up to see the other profiler stifling a laugh. Dave glared at him and Jason just smirked before walking back to his desk.
Spencer's arms eventually went around Dave. "I know, Dad," he said. "I love you, too," he whispered softly. He eventually pulled back, and Dave let him go, knowing Spencer wasn't big on open displays of paternal affection. Especially not in front of the BAU agents he so admired. "So, can I see what you're working on?" Spencer asked brightly.
"Oh, hell, no," Dave said. "You're too young. I don't care how much of a genius you are."
"Dad!" Spencer protested.
"Only ten more years till we can recruit you, and then you can see all the gruesome murders you can stand," Jason said as he walked by again.
"Stop trying to corrupt my son," Dave scowled. He knew Spencer wanted to join the BAU, but that didn't mean Dave didn't want something better for his son, something that didn't involve serial killers. It was bad enough they kept him away from home so often, leaving Spencer in the care of Mrs. Thomas, their live-in housekeeper. Marie, Dave's ex-wife, hadn't taken kindly to her then-husband bringing home an unknown infant, and had left Dave when Spencer was less than a year old. It had pretty much been the two of them since.
"Can I help it if the kid's on his way to being a hell of a profiler?" Jason asked with a grin. Dave scowled more, but didn't respond. Jason damn well knew he could help it - he'd practically been grooming Spencer for the BAU ever since Spencer's incredible mental abilities had manifested themselves.
"Come on, Spence," Dave said, standing up. "Let's let Agent Gideon get back to work, and you and I will head out for pizza."
"Cool!" Spencer said, and Dave couldn't help ruffling Spencer's hair again. Spencer didn't scowl this time, giving his father a smile that Dave couldn't help returning.
July 1998
"I think there's someone in your house," Hotch said, slowing the car down as he pulled onto Dave's street. "Lights are on."
Dave peered at the house, looking down at his watch and swearing in Italian when he realized what time - and what day - it was. "It's probably my son," he said. "He was due back from college today. I forgot about picking him up at the airport," he added with a sigh. Spencer had probably waited a while before calling a cab, but Dave hated not being there to pick Spence up.
"You don't talk about your son much," Hotch said, and Dave turned to look at the younger agent, who reminded Dave of a cross between James Bond and a Wall Street power broker.
"That's because Spencer is best experienced in person," Dave said with a grin. "Come on in, I'll introduce you."
They headed up the walkway and Dave unlocked the front door. "Hey Spencer, it's Dad," he called out.
Spencer's head appeared in the living room from the kitchen, followed by the rest of his lanky frame. "Dad! Wasn't sure when you'd be back," he said, returning the hug Dave gave him. God, Spencer had gotten taller at college.
"I wasn't sure myself, and I apologize for forgetting to pick you up."
"That's okay, Jason was at the airport. He said you were out on a case."
Dave narrowed his eyes. "He knows he's still not allowed to recruit you."
Spencer grinned, but turned to Hotch and held out a hand. "Spencer Reid," he said, "Dave's son."
Hotch shook Spencer's hand. "Aaron Hotchner."
Spencer's eyes lit up. "You're the prosecutor from the William Youngston trial," he said. "You got him to break on the stand, when even Jason couldn't get him to confess. I've read the transcripts. If you have time I'd love to talk to you about the methods you used."
Hotch's eyebrows had risen at Spencer's enthusiasm, and Dave grinned. "Spencer has been hanging around the BAU since he was six months old," Dave explained. "He's currently at Cal Tech getting his Bachelors in Psychology and Sociology while finishing up his dissertations in Physics and Chemistry."
Hotch blinked as Spencer said, "You forgot my Engineering Ph.D., Dad."
"Yes, but you already earned that, Spencer." Dave suddenly paused. "Is that lasagna I smell?"
"Oh! Yeah, I got hungry, figured lasagna would keep for a few days even if you didn't get home tonight." Spencer turned around and hurried back into the kitchen. Dave turned to Hotch, who was staring at where Spencer had disappeared to, his eyebrows well above where they usually rested.
"How old is he?" Hotch asked.
Dave chuckled. "Sixteen. He's also a genius - IQ of 187, eidetic memory, reads twenty thousand words a minute. Jason's been trying to recruit him into the Bureau since he was six at least. "
"You don't want him following in your footsteps?" Hotch glanced over at the kitchen.
Dave sighed. "I think Spencer can do anything he damn well pleases with that brain of his, and I want him to have the chance to find out what he wants to do. Jason has no business trying to groom my son for just one profession without taking Spencer's feelings - or mine - into account."
Hotch nodded. "What if he wants to join the Bureau?"
"Then I'll finally retire and write that book I keep thinking about, let him have the chance to be himself without his old man around watching his every move. Fortunately, Spencer and I don't share the same last name. Be easier for him."
"I noticed that," Hotch said carefully.
"Adopted, when Spencer was six months old. It's a long story, but I decided he should keep his last name, let him at least have something from his birth parents." Dave paused. "His father was killed in a car accident when his mother was six months pregnant. She's a paranoid schizophrenic; thought the government had murdered her husband. When Nevada's Child and Family Services starting nosing around after Spencer was born - he was born in Las Vegas - she decided that the government should be required to raise Spencer if they were saying she wasn't fit. She just wanted it on her own terms. I'd just finished a child rapist case in Nevada and was on the news after the arrest. So she chose me."
"I'm surprised the courts let you keep him."
Dave looked at Aaron. "It wasn't easy, but his mother was perfectly lucid when we got her in front of a judge to terminate her parental rights." He looked over at the picture of himself and Spencer that hung in the hallway, taken at Spencer's high school graduation. "They wanted to take him away from me at first, put him in foster care. My response was 'oh, hell, no,' backed up by Gideon and Ryan and the rest of the BAU. They finally got the message."
"Are you staying for dinner, Agent Hotchner?" Spencer called from the kitchen.
"It's Hotch," the man replied, "and sure." He smiled at Dave, who gestured for Hotch to precede him down the hall. "Haley's visiting her family. A home cooked meal sounds wonderful right now."
Dave reached out and ruffled Spencer's hair (grown longer now, Dave wasn't sure about it, but he wouldn't say anything, figuring it helped Spence fit in) as they entered the kitchen. "Watch out, Spencer's a genius in the classroom and the kitchen. We'll never get rid of you once you've eaten Spencer's lasagna."
Spencer pushed his hair back out of his face and gave his father a mock scowl. "As opposed to your cooking, which would have him calling CPS for abuse."
Dave and Hotch chuckled as they sat down for dinner. Dave grinned at his son, pleased that Spencer was home. This case had been bad, but no matter how bad they got, Spencer always reminded him of why he still did this.
"Oh god, this is good," Hotch said from across the table, taking his first bite.
"Told you," Dave said, digging into his piece, giving Spencer a smile that his son returned happily before he, too, started eating.
April 1999
"You sure about this, Dave?"
Dave finished tossing his personal effects into the box and nodded at Aaron. "The way things are going these days, I'm not sure I can keep doing this." He looked up at Aaron, who nodded, understanding Waco, Ruby Ridge, Oklahoma City, and all the other cases that still haunted Dave had finally gotten to be too much. "Besides, Spencer's already signed on the dotted line," he said. "He'll start the Academy next year. By the time he gets to the BAU, only you and Jason should know he's my son." He put the top on the box. "Watch out for him, will you?" Dave asked, needing to hear that Aaron would look after Spencer. The two men had become friends, like Spencer and Jason, but at least Aaron didn't view Spencer as a tool to be used in catching unsubs, but as a person.
"I will." He stepped forward to shake Dave's hand. "Take care of yourself, Dave."
"You too, Aaron."
"Going to stay away from those crime novel groupies?"
"Oh, hell, no," Dave replied with a grin.
Aaron shook his head.
January 2007
Dave flung open the front door of his house as soon as he saw the headlights of Aaron's car pull up. Aaron had called from Andrews, saying that he was bringing Spencer home. He hadn't given Dave any more details on the case in Georgia. All Dave had known had come from Aaron's first phone call - that Spencer had been kidnapped by the unsub, and the team was not going to stop until they got Spencer back.
Dave couldn't recall the last time he'd prayed so long and so hard as he had while waiting for news of his son. Not even when Spencer had been hospitalized for having bronchitis and the chicken pox as a child had Dave been so scared for his son's life.
He hurried out to Aaron's car, pulling open the passenger door. Spencer practically fell out of the car into Dave's arms. "I've got you, son," Dave murmured, feeling Spencer's thin frame shaking against him. He pulled Spencer into a tighter hug. "I've got you."
"I'm sorry, Dad. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The soft chant nearly broke Dave's heart, and he looked over at Aaron, who shook his head.
"It's all right, Spence," Dave murmured back. "I forgive you. I love you. Always will."
Spencer's shaking seemed to ease then. Aaron came around to help, and the two of them got Spencer into the house and to the spare room that Spencer always used. Dave pulled a pair of pajamas from the dresser and Aaron left the room discreetly, letting Dave help his son undress and put on the pajamas.
Each physical wound was an emotional blow to Dave. His son shouldn't be going through this. He should be in front of a classroom, teaching a safe subject. Not becoming the victim of an unknown subject.
The needle marks on Spencer's right arm were the most devastating. "Spencer?" Dave asked softly, fingers hovering over the skin.
"Tobias. . . kept injecting me with Dilaudid. He thought it would help me escape, at least mentally." Spencer suddenly grabbed Dave's hand with surprising strength. "Dad, I'm sorry."
"You're forgiven," Dave said again, knowing that Spencer needed forgiveness for reasons he wasn't ready to tell Dave about yet. Still, Dave would forgive his son anything at this moment. Spencer was alive, and home.
He helped Spencer under the covers, holding onto his son's hand as Spencer closed his eyes. "I love you, Spence," he said again, wanting his son to hear the words again - and Dave needed to say them.
"Love you, Dad," Spencer said sleepily.
Dave waited until he was sure Spencer was asleep before leaving the room to talk to Aaron. He left a light on to ensure that Spencer wouldn't be too disoriented if he woke up.
Aaron was standing in the living room, just staring at the floor. Dave walked past him to the liquor cabinet, pouring two generous glasses of Scotch. He handed one to Aaron and took a swallow of his. "What the hell happened?"
Aaron finished his drink in two gulps. "What we thought were multiple unsubs turned out to be one unsub with multiple personalities." He set the glass down hard. "One of the personalities was forcing Spencer to dig his own grave when we found him. We distracted the unsub, and Spencer took his gun and shot him."
Dave dropped onto the couch. "God." He drained the rest of his glass.
"No one realized Hankel was the unsub. I wouldn't have sent Spencer and JJ to talk to him alone if there had been even the slightest--"
"I know, Aaron. You would never put an agent in danger on purpose." Dave looked up. "I don't blame you."
Aaron nodded. "Thanks." He sighed. "Spencer gave us the clues we needed to find him. Even when Hankel's personalities were forcing Spencer to choose one of his teammates to die, Spencer made sure his choice led us to him." At Dave's look, Aaron shrugged. "He chose me, using an argument we'd been having on narcissism to alert me and misquoting the Bible to give us his location."
"He called you a narcissist?" Jason would have been a better candidate for that term, in Dave's eyes.
"That's how I knew he was trying to give me a clue." Aaron looked down the hall toward Spencer's room. "He didn't say anything in front of the team, but I knew he wanted to see you."
"Thank you," Dave said in a choked whisper. When Aaron looked back, Dave added, "For saving my son. I don't know--" he broke off, feeling tears run down his cheeks. When Aaron pulled Dave into a hug, Dave didn't resist.
*~*
Dave stood in Spencer's room and watched him sleep. He'd wanted to tell Aaron that Spencer would be leaving the BAU, but he didn't have that right. Spencer was twenty-five, old enough to make his own decisions.
That didn't stop Dave from worrying every day about his son.
He carefully picked up Spencer's discarded clothing, frowning when something in the pocket of Spencer's pants made a click like glass hitting glass. Reaching inside, Dave pulled out two small vials, the labels proclaiming them to be Dilaudid.
Dave looked from the vials to Spencer's sleeping form. "Oh, hell, no," he whispered. He'd seen too many agents fight the demons of addiction. He was not going to stand by and let Spencer fall into that hole because of some bastard unsub.
Moving over to the bed, Dave leaned down and brushed a stray bit of hair from Spencer's face before kissing his son's temple. "Love you," he murmured. Spencer smiled in his sleep.
November 2007
Spencer stared at him when he walked across the bullpen behind Erin Strauss. His two colleagues, Morgan and Prentiss, were also staring at Dave, but Spencer belatedly was pulling a Frankenstein mask off his head. He still had the noose around his neck, and Dave really wished he could take a picture to put with the other pictures of Spencer in Halloween costumes over the years.
Once Strauss had left the office, Aaron gave Dave a serious look. "How is this going to work?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"It's not exactly FBI protocol to allow family members in the same unit."
"True. This is, admittedly, on a trial basis. It helps that few people know I'm Spencer's father."
"I need to make sure this won't be a problem in the field, Dave. You know how often we're in dangerous situations."
That was the question Dave had been asking himself since Spencer had told him that Jason Gideon had just up and left with only a note. It had just seemed like the right time to come back, to finish some unfinished business, but he'd wrestled with the question of being too over-protective of his son, especially after the Georgia case and keeping Spencer from sinking into a drug-fueled cycle of self-destruction. "I can handle it," he said now.
"And Spencer? No son wants to see his father in that kind of situation either, Dave."
"He's an adult, he can handle it."
"He had no idea you were coming back. The shock on his face when I mentioned you were joining the team was genuine."
"Telling him would have been counter-productive, might have made other people wonder about us when he didn't react with shock."
Aaron frowned, but then JJ appeared in the doorway, and further discussion was left to another time as they turned their concentration to the case.
*~*
Dave smirked as he hesitated out of sight of the two profilers in his office. Spencer was in the doorway, looking back and seeing him. Dave nodded toward the door, knowing Spencer would take that as permission to profile him with the others, and mess with their heads at the same time. He could hear Prentiss talking about the wall color meaning he wanted to escape from the world, and Morgan saying he was surprised there weren't plaques and commendations on the walls. Dave wondered how Morgan was considered such a good profiler if he couldn't even figure out that as the painters had just left five seconds before Morgan had walked into the room, there hadn't been enough time for Dave to sneeze on the walls, much less hang a plaque or commendation.
"Whatever happened to the moratorium on inter-team profiling, guys?" Spencer asked.
"Come on, Reid, team? I don't think this guy knows the meaning of the word," Morgan replied. Dave winced, knowing Morgan was right. He'd screwed up on the case in Texas, thinking he knew better than the others. Both Aaron and Spencer had called him on it. When his own son was lecturing him on protocol, that meant he'd screwed up royally.
"Hm, I found something. Looks like some type of religious art. Original, maybe? Definitely expensive," Morgan was saying. Dave saw Spencer enter the room further, looking back at him. Dave knew his son would prefer not to have to hide their relationship like this, by joining his other teammates in invading his father's privacy, but Dave truly didn't mind. It wasn't like anything in the office was a secret from Spencer, at least.
"It's Renaissance art. If it's original. . ." Spencer trailed off thoughtfully.
"Is it?" Prentiss whispered.
"Dunno, kind of hard to tell," Spencer replied. Dave would have snorted if it wouldn't have betrayed his position. Spencer knew damn well it was original - he'd been with Dave when he'd bought it. "Means he's into the classics."
"What else?" Morgan asked. This should be good.
"Italian, strict Catholic upbringing, probably believes in redemption."
Dave entered the room then. "Oh, I believe in a lot of things," he said, making them all look at him. Spencer was the only one with the grace to look abashed at the moment, even with his father's implicit permission to profile him. Spencer had been exaggerating, though, and both of them knew it. He leaned against the doorjamb, his thumbs in the pocket of his jeans, not looking at the others in the room. "Catholic, yes. Italian-American, fifty-two years. Strict upbringing, not so much. Now the artwork, that's 15th century. Original, cost more than my first house," he added, moving into the room, enjoying the looks on Morgan and Prentiss' faces. "As for the wall color, it's just a base color. Painters'll come in and finish tomorrow." He took the picture from his son's hands. "Now if you're all finished, I think JJ and Hotch are ready for us. Isn't that how a team works?" he asked Morgan, smirking as the three of them left. Unfortunately, Spencer left first, so he couldn't share the smirk with his son. He'd have to wait until later.
*~*
"What the hell do you want? Can't you read?" the park manager asked.
Dave watched Spencer reach into his back pocket. "I'm not a salesman. I'm with the FBI." He held up his credentials.
"FBI?" the manager scoffed. "You're not serious! You look like a pipe cleaner with eyes. I could snap you like a twig."
At that, Dave had to step in, as a fellow agent though instead of a father. As a father he wanted to shoot the man for threatening his son. This was exactly what Aaron had been worried about when Dave came back - and what Dave had worried about, too. "But then. . ." Dave said as he stepped between Spencer and the manager, showing his own credentials, "he isn't alone." The manager backed down at that, for which Dave was grateful. Spencer would kill him if he'd shot the man, but Dave had never taken threats to his son's life well.
Threaten me all you want, he thought as he worked to convince the man to help them. But threaten my son? Oh, hell, no.
April 2008
"How did it really go?" Dave poured two glasses of wine and brought them over to the table where Spencer was already sitting, waiting for his father before starting to eat. "The custodial with Hardwick."
"He played with us, admitted that he was planning to kill us to prevent his execution, Hotch almost ended up in hand-to-hand combat with him, and I spent fifteen minutes bullshitting him on psychology until the guards got there."
Dave paused, his wineglass almost to his mouth. "If that's your idea of ultimately uneventful, I'd hate to see what you call eventful."
Spencer grinned as he dug into his food. "Having to talk down an armed delusional schizophrenic on a train in Texas with an FBI agent as a hostage when I'm not wearing Kevlar."
"I'll give you that," Dave said. "Wait, Hotch almost had to fight Hardwick?"
"He was protecting me," Spencer said with a shrug.
"And you protected him by bullshitting for fifteen minutes."
"As I told Hotch, I do my best work under intense terror."
Dave swallowed. "I'd rather you didn't have to."
"Dad," Spencer sighed. "It's the job." Spencer looked up. "I hated it when you were an agent and I was just a kid, not knowing if my dad was coming home."
Meeting his son's eyes, Dave just nodded, knowing there was nothing he could really say to that.
Spencer looked down at his food. "Morgan's starting to wonder about us, by the way. Keeps making subtle comments on us being really close. I think he's drawing the wrong conclusion."
"God, last thing we need are those rumors." Dave couldn't image the havoc that would wreak in the Bureau.
"Garcia knows."
"She what?" Dave dropped his fork.
"She knows. That you're my dad, I'm your son. Knows my history." He looked up and gave Dave a disbelieving look. "You really didn't think she wouldn't know? You're my emergency contact number, have been for years."
"Is she going to say anything to Morgan?"
"Nah, she's having too much fun watching him trying to figure things out. She did promise to step in if Morgan goes too far and it might jeopardize the team," he added.
"Good," Dave said, shaking his head. "I guess we're just too close for people who don't know."
"At least Hotch knows. It'll be bad enough when Morgan, Emily, and JJ find out. They'll feel betrayed," Spencer said. "I don't like doing that to them, even if it is a mandate from the brass."
"I don't either, Spence. Worse comes to worst, I'll retire again."
Spencer hummed. "Or I'll go teach at Georgetown. They're after me again."
"How many tries is this?"
"I've lost count." Spencer gave Dave an innocent look. Dave snorted.
"Watch yourself, young man. Your father always knows when you're lying."
"Hmmm, not always," Spencer said with a devious grin.
"Oh?" Dave sat back. Spencer didn't answer and finally Dave went back to his dinner. "Cheeky whelp," he muttered.
"I learned from the best," Spencer said smugly.
All Dave could do at that was smile.
~*~
Dave let himself into Spencer's apartment with his key. Spencer either wasn't home from the Bureau yet, or hadn't put the chain on his door when he'd gotten home. Dave suspected the latter after the case in Texas. He hadn't been that terrified for his son's life since the kidnapping in Georgia. Probably more terrified this time, since he'd been forced to stand there and watch as Spencer, without a weapon or vest, had talked down a teenaged killer intent on taking out a police station.
Spencer's clothing was scattered on the floor, and Dave had to grab the back of the couch when he tripped over Spencer's shirt. Dave leaned down to pick it up, then noticed the tie. It wasn't Spencer's tie - it was Aaron's. Glancing around the room, he saw other bits of Aaron's clothing resting where they'd landed. Dave blinked.
Spencer and Aaron. How long had that been going on without him noticing?
He finally registered voices coming from the bedroom. "Don't ever do that to me again, Spence," came Aaron's voice, low and full of emotion. "I can't lose you." There was a pause, and Dave had to strain to hear Aaron's next words. "I love you."
"I'm sorry, Aaron." Spencer replied. "I love you, I know I hurt you, but I couldn't --" His voice cut off and a low moan sounded a few moments later. Dave swallowed and crept out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.
Some things a father just didn't need to know about his son.
However, he and Aaron were definitely going to have to talk.
*~*
"Hurt him and there won't be a body left for the team to find."
Aaron's head snapped up with alacrity, confusion on his face. "What?" he asked.
"Spencer. My son. Hurt him and I will make sure there isn't a body left for the team to find." Dave settled into one of the chairs across from Aaron's desk, folding his hands across his stomach. "Don't think I couldn't do it."
"No, you probably could," Aaron acknowledged.
"Spencer didn't tell me, if that's what you're thinking," Dave said. "I went to check on him last night. Bit of a surprise to see your clothing in his living room and hear your voice in his bedroom." When Aaron opened his mouth, Dave held up a hand. "No. No details. You're my friend, but Spencer's my son. I do not want details."
"No details," Aaron agreed. He put his pen down. "It's not a fling, Dave. I just want you to know that. Not on my part."
Dave snorted. "Not on Spencer's part, either. He doesn't do flings. I think I could count on less than one hand the number of relationships he's had." Sighing, Dave looked up at Aaron, giving voice to his own private theory on Spencer's hesitancy to have a relationship. "Sometimes I wonder if he thinks that I'm going to decide that I made a mistake all those years ago when I adopted him."
"You didn't," Aaron said.
"I've never regretted it," Dave agreed. "Never."
"I've never doubted you," Spencer said from behind Dave. Turning, Dave saw him leaning against the doorjamb. "You're my dad," he said with a shrug. "The odds may have been astronomical against you adopting an unknown infant left on the steps of the FBI and loving him as your own son, but I've never doubted that you did just that."
Dave paused, then laughed, remembering that conversation in the old BAU bunker so long ago. He stood up and Spencer came over to hug him tightly. "I love you, Dad," Spencer whispered.
"Love you too, son." They held on tighter for a moment before Spencer pulled back, and Dave grinned at him. "Even if you're giving me Hotch as a potential son-in-law."
Spencer blushed, ducking his head. Behind Dave, Aaron chuckled. "You'd prefer Morgan?" he asked.
"Oh, hell, no," Dave protested with a laugh before turning serious. "I like Morgan, don't get me wrong, but . . . " he shrugged, even as he thought I think you and Spencer fit better emotionally. "Like I said, I just don't want details. Ever."
"I'm not giving you any," Spencer said. "But I might be persuaded to make my two favorite profilers dinner."
"I'm in," Aaron said quickly. Dave and Spencer shared a grin.
"Told you we'd never get rid of him once he'd tasted your lasagna," Dave said with a mock sigh.
"It was the gnocchi that sold me," Aaron said.
Spencer just grinned at the two of them.
January 2009
"Where did you find this kid?" the local detective asked after Spencer had explained how he'd come to the conclusion that there were two people writing in the blog.
Dave turned to him. "He was left in a basket on the steps of the FBI," he replied seriously. The detective gave Dave a look, obviously thinking Dave was mocking him.
Dave caught his son's gaze, and knew Spencer had heard his remark. They shared a smile, both knowing that day had been the best moment of Dave's life, even if Dave hadn't realized it at the time. He wouldn't give up his son for anything now - wouldn't change anything about that day.
But that didn't mean he couldn't tease Spencer with it now and again. After all, that was a perk of being a father.