82. Potential

Rating: K

Author: rogueandkurt

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Okay, not sure this turned out the way I wanted it to. Yes, it's another Young!Reid fic (I'm gonna keep writing them, apparently). Don't let that deter you.

Let me say up front (before I get too many reviews/PMs pointing it out) that I know I messed around a bit with knowledge of child-rearing/the normal development of children for this, but I was also taking into account the year this fic was set and the fact that Reid wasn't exactly a normal child. So...Let's just blame any inconsistencies/improbabilities on that, shall we? ;)

Uh...Minor spoilers for 'The Fisher King pt1&2', 'The Instincts', and 'Memoriam'...But only in regards to Reid's parentage. On that note, Reid's dad is a bit of a mix of his 'Revelations' and 'Memoriam' portrayals (let's face it - they were two very different views on his character. I tried to reconcile them as best I could).

...Guess that's all. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Criminal Minds' or any of the recognizable characters/books/tv shows/toys/etc mentioned within.

Potential

"Diana, we have to be there in half an hour," William called from the bedroom, knotting his tie in the mirror. He pulled the tie straight, before pausing to run a comb through his hair. This lecture forum was their first big university event together since Spencer had been born, and he wanted to look his best for Diana's colleagues.

In the living room, Diana Reid paused her recitation of 'The Canterbury Tales' for only a moment, before returning her attention to the words on the yellowed page and the young boy nestled next to her on the couch.

Freshly bathed and dressed in his blue footie pajamas, twenty-month-old Spencer was completely enthralled by the sound of his mother's voice.

"'...That each of you shall follow his own quest, free from all ransom or of fear from me. And this day, fifty weeks hence, both shall be here once again, each with a hundred knights, armed for the lists, who stoutly for your rights will ready be to battle, to maintain your claim to love.'"

The young boy stared at the book in concentration, following her finger as it traced absently across the page.

William entered, pulling on his suit jacket as his gaze fell to mother and son.

"Diana, we're going to be late."

She sighed, closing the book and setting it aside before helping little Spencer off the couch. The small boy looked confused for a moment, but wandered off in the direction of his toys. Squatting on the carpet, a clumsy fist wrapped itself around a plastic triangle-shaped peg.

"'Chaucer'?" William inquired, eyeing the discarded tome in surprise. "You're reading to him in Middle English? He's not even two yet."

"We're never too young for good literature," Diana retorted, straightening her gray skirt. "And it's the Modern English translation. Spencer enjoys it."

"He's a toddler," her husband insisted, watching as the young boy in question began playing with a set of colourful alphabet blocks on the floor. "He doesn't understand any of it. We should be reading to him at his level."

"We don't know what's going on inside his mind," the literature professor maintained, peering intently at the small boy on the carpet. "Spencer has very inquisitive taste when it comes to books."

William frowned doubtfully, absently checking his pockets for his wallet and keys. "Doesn't it seem strange that he hasn't started talking yet? He is almost two years old. Dean Watson's daughter was already speaking in partial sentences by that age."

Professor Reid shook her head before putting in her earrings. Behind her, her husband made to take a seat on the couch she'd earlier abandoned, careful not to wrinkle his brown suit.

"He'll talk when he's ready."

The father stared at the little boy on the floor, watching as he started to build a tower out of the blocks. "What if something's wrong with him? All of the parenting books say he should have spoken his first words by now. I'm just worried he's not developing normally."

"Don't be ridiculous." Diana's mouth twisted downwards, her inflection suggesting her distaste for 'the parenting books'. "Those books don't apply to every child. Children can't all be put in some universal mold like- like machines," she informed him. "Spencer is not a statistic."

"It's not just the talking thing," William continued, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees, worry etched in his forehead. "He doesn't seem to like playing with other kids his own age. I took him to the park the other day, remember? He just sat in a corner of the sandbox by himself the whole time, ignoring the other toddlers. One of them tried to get him to dig with her and he was completely indifferent."

"He likes playing on his own," his wife commented, not unkindly, something reverent in her tone as she regarded their son. "There's nothing wrong with solitude. That's where we receive some of our greatest inspiration."

William sighed, recognizing his wife's 'professor voice', and knowing it was an argument he wouldn't win - at least, not tonight. He loved his wife, but she too-often held their son in extremely high regard, speaking of him almost as if he were an otherworldly being. Then again, William knew he had placed his own set of expectations on Spencer as well. The pregnancy had been difficult for both of them, with every day a struggle to keep an un-medicated and terrified Diana in-check. When she finally gave birth, they'd both agreed not to put her through any more pregnancies, causing William to give up his dreams of having a house filled to bursting with the pitter-patter of little feet. The knowledge that Spencer was to be their only child had changed things considerably.

Maybe they both expected too much, he mused. Between the two of them, William wondered if Spencer had any hope at all of turning out normal. He checked his watch. "Judy should be here any minute."

Spencer waddled over to his father, a colourful 'W' block grasped in his hands. Silently, he held the block out, an expectant look on his face.

His dad smiled, accepting the block. "That's very nice, Spencer," he praised, superficially inspecting the block before handing it back. "Why don't you finish that tower now?"

The toddler dutifully returned to his play. A second later, the tower had collapsed upon itself, and Spencer began lining the blocks up in a row.

The doorbell rang, and William rose to answer it.

"Hello, Judy," he greeted, moving aside to let the young brunette in. The teenager popped her gum as she waved a greeting, stepping over the threshold.

"Hey, Mr. Reid, Mrs. Reid. Sorry I'm late." She looked around the front hall expectantly, her dark brown eyes landing on the young child in the living room. She made her way towards him, stopping to crouch next to the mess of blocks and toys. "Heya, Spencer. What are you up to?"

Spencer paid no attention to her, moving another block into place.

"He should go to sleep pretty soon, Judy," William informed her, grabbing his wife's purse off the counter. "We'll be back around eleven."

The teenager smiled, scooping the toddler up into her arms, causing him to drop the block in his hand at the unexpected move.

"Don't worry about us, Mr. Reid. Spencer and me are gonna be just fine."

William nodded, helping his wife into her coat as he gestured towards the kitchen. "Help yourself to anything in the fridge."

He opened the door again, his hand on the small of his wife's back as he guided her out to the car.

"Sure thing," the teen called as he closed the door behind them. "Have a good time!"

Judy watched them go, looking to the silent toddler in her arms.

"Well, Spenny, it looks like it's just us," she sighed. Spencer stared back at her. "Well, you're not much for company, are you?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. She sighed again, deciding it wasn't too early to put the kid to bed. The sooner she got him settled, the sooner she'd be able to relax.

"Bed time, Spence," Judy informed him, trudging off in the direction of the bathroom, Spencer looking back dolefully over her shoulder at the abandoned row of blocks on the carpet.

Fifteen minutes and a fresh diaper later, the teen flicked the lights on in the small, blue-walled room. Spencer's room was a pretty odd one for a child, in her opinion. There were bookshelves on all sides, but only a handful of the books were geared towards a kid of Spencer's age. The rest, Judy assumed, belonged to his mom, most of them probably decades older than Judy herself. She wondered if they really expected him to be interested in them, or if the Reid family's only child had just somehow ended up sleeping in their makeshift library out of convenience. There were very few toys, and those that were present were all the boring 'brainiac' ones that overeager parents bought their kids to try and make them smarter. Like any kid wanted to stare at a globe when they could have one of those Gloworms her cousin was always cuddling.

She pulled back the baseball blanket, laying the child down in his crib and brushing his thin brown hair out of his face.

"Be a good boy and go to sleep, now, Spencer," she told him, backing away slowly to turn off the lights. He didn't usually cry when left alone, but it didn't hurt to be cautious.

She closed the door behind her and breathed a sigh of relief when no sounds came from within. Praying the kid wouldn't wake up again before his parents got back, Judy made her way to the living room with a mind for catching up on some TV-viewing. There was a new 'Facts of Life' on that night, and she'd actually get to watch it in peace for once without her little brother hogging the remote.

Turning the corner, she groaned as she remembered the small collection of toys on the floor in front of the couch.

"They oughta pay me extra for this," she muttered quietly, grabbing the toy box and kneeling on the carpet to gather the blocks and plastic shapes together. She started tossing the toys in the box, careful not to make too much noise incase the toddler in the next room got fussy, pausing as she came to a solitary line of blocks with their letters all facing outwards.

'They are such weird parents,' she thought with a frown, turning the line of blocks towards herself to better read them. 'Why would they wanna teach a toddler how to spell the word 'quest'?'

Fin.

Does anyone else remember Gloworms? I always thought they were so cute! (And speaking of cute - come on, you know you were 'aww'-ing just a little over the thought of baby Spencer in footie pajamas. Admit it.)

So...Yeah. Nothing earth-shattering, but there you have it. I'm still not sure if it worked the way I originally intended it to, but whatever.

I'll do my best to put another fic or drabble up soon.

Keep Smiling! ;)

rogueandkurt