TITLE: The Best of Us Falls

CHAPTER/TITLE: Chapter Seventeen/...A Merry Little Christmas

RATING: T (language and mature content)

A/N: Wow. My last update was in MAY. I feel like a horrible, terrible, no good, rotten person. I lost this chapter in the great computer virus of 2011, and then the great computer complete and total failure in 2013. I was looking for the written copy of it forever and I guess I finally gave up. I have to rewrite a LOT of the story now and I'm just trying to find the time, willpower, motivation, muse, all that jazz. I pretty much had this story completed before! I find it upsetting and sad that this story was originally supposed to be posted during the "current" year, as I was going to post the Halloween chapter during Halloween, and these Christmas chapters were supposed to be up around that Christmastime of 2011. 3 years I've been battling my laptop...wow. So much has changed in the show, but I'm still keeping my timeline, etc. I hope you can find it in your heart (hey, it is the Christmas spirit time...in this story at least) to forgive me! (If anyone out there is still putting up with me and reading this...) Spencer might be a little OOC in this chapter, as he is sometimes throughout the story due to all he is going through, etc. Plus, I just tried to crank this out pretty quick to give you guys SOMETHING to sink your teeth into! I hope to continue to rewrite the chapters and start updating this frequently again!

Another father/son chapter. Not much happens. I know. It's a bit slow. And the story has been a bit slow for awhile. Don't worry! There is some action and suspense right around the corner! I promise! Things heat up! And look forward to some Reid whump in the future. You know, 'cause we all love to see our favorite characters in pain for some sadistic, slightly scary, reason...

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Criminal Minds, Christmas, or any Thai food.

Chapter Seventeen: ...A Merry Little Christmas

Spencer Reid counted his steps – and the cracks in the sidewalk, and the lampposts, and just about anything quantifiable he could find – as he shuffled almost hesitantly towards the parked car. Some part of Reid's mind that wasn't counting – or worrying, or replaying his previous conversation with Gideon, or reciting possible things to say with his father – made a note to never invite William Reid to a stake out. The man was watching Spencer's apartment so noticeably it was almost embarrassing for the federal agent, especially considering with how intently he was staring at it, his father had not observed the occupant of the apartment leave. Not to mention the fact that the man had yet to notice his own son approaching his vehicle.

He watched his father jump in the driver seat as Spencer tapped on the window with his knuckles. Shoving his hands awkwardly in his jacket pockets, Reid waited anxiously as his father recovered from the scare and hastily rolled down the window.

"Uh, Spencer, oh, hi," the man stammered, "I was just –"

"In the neighborhood?" The humor Reid had intended to use didn't quite reach his voice.

"Uh, yeah," Will paused and drew in a long breath. "I just thought, seeing as it's Christmas," he trailed off, staring straight ahead instead of looking at his son.

"We haven't spent a Christmas together since I was 10," Spencer's words were far less cold and callous than they both thought they would be.

"Well, yes," Will stammered, "which is why we should spend this one together. I thought we could have a proper Christmas dinner, the two of us."

"Do you even know how to cook?" Spencer asked his father skeptically.

"Well, uh, no," Will replied sheepishly. "I thought maybe I could take you to a nice restaurant.

A crooked smile pulled at the tips of Spencer's lips.

"I think I have a better idea."

It was less than an hour later that Spencer Reid and his father were sitting at the small table in the son's humble apartment, containers of Thai food scattered between the two of them. When Spencer had told Will his idea, and even suggested his favorite Thai restaurant that was within walking distance from his apartment, he was quite surprised to find that his father was excited. The man had look not only relieved that he didn't have to try to cook, but also genuinely enthusiastic. He later revealed to his son that Thai food was his favorite, and, single middle aged business man, it took on the form of most of his meals. Spencer had raised a slight eyebrow at this, a little staggered by the idea that he and his father actually possessed something in common.

They ate mostly in silence, yet it wasn't the kind of tension flooded quiet that both of them had almost been expecting. The shared solace was surprisingly comfortable, and appreciated by both men. It wasn't perfect, but there was no hostility, no awkward gaps of conversation, no bad blood. They were both just content to simply be there, together.

It wasn't until after Spencer had started to toss the empty containers in the garbage and Will began cleaning the table that the two spoke at all.

"So," Spencer started slowly, "when do you have to be back to work?"

"I don't know," Will replied as he handed his son their dirtied silverware – Will apparently was just as opposed to chopsticks as his son, which also surprised Spencer, even as he, for the hundredth time, told the American restaurant owner how chopsticks actually were not authentic to Thai food. "I thought I might stay around here for a while."

Spencer stopped what he was doing and turned to look at his father seriously.

"That is," Will corrected hurriedly, "if that is alright with you, son, of course." He paused when Spencer didn't say anything. "Or, if you're too busy with your work, I would understand."

Spencer listened as his father helplessly backpedaled. He almost made a comment about it when something else slipped past his lips. He blurted it out in a murmur so fast he wasn't even sure he really said it, or if his father had heart it.

"Wait, what?"

The curious and shocked expression on Will's face gave Spencer his answer.

"I don't work there anymore." Spencer repeated, trying to force his voice to sound resigned, thought it was difficult after his talk with Gideon. "Spencer, what happened?"

Spencer was caught off guard by the caring look in his father's eyes.

"I quit," Reid shrugged his shoulders to make his body language reflect his tone.

"You quit?" Will repeated after a pregnant pause. "Why? I thought you loved your job."

"I do," Reid faltered, "I did. I just – it's not for me anymore." Spencer inwardly grimaced at how unlike him this sounded and just prayed his father hadn't been around him enough to notice.

"I know you're lying, Spencer," Will spoke in such a fatherly voice that it brought Spencer reeling back into his childhood years. "Talk to me."

Reid turned around, pretending to dry his hands on a towel, but inside just ending up wringing it through his quaking fingers.

"They wanted me to take a test," Spencer starter slowly, keeping his back to the man he could tell was fixing him with a piercing gaze. "An evaluation. It – it's – it's to tell them if – if I'm crazy."

"Crazy?" There was no hesitation in Will's voice. "Spencer, you're not crazy. Why on earth would anyone think that you are?" He paused as his son stiffened. "No," he shook his head. "You think that are."

The half of Spencer's brain that wasn't spinning, was actually impressed at hos perception his father seemed to be.

"It's statistically possible," Spencer explained, swallowing, still not looking at the man he was speaking to. "Schizophrenia is genetically passed and I'm the age where most breaks occur. And I have these headaches."

"Headaches?" Will stepped forward. "How bad are they? Do they hurt? Spencer, why didn't you tell me?"

Spencer was speechless. He had just told his father that he might be falling right down the same mentally ill path as his mother, and Will was more concerned with the physical pain his son was experiencing. He seemed to completely skip over the whole crazy part of Reid's revelation.

"I was trying not to tell anyone," Reid sighed. "Only Morgan and Emily knew, but now everyone does. The Bureau knows and they're making me take this evaluation. If I don't take it, I'm off the team. So – I quit."

"Spencer, son," Will sighed, "you can't just quit doing something you love, something you are so good at."

"Yes I can," Spencer snapped. "I did."

"It's not that simple," Will shook his head.

"Yes, it is. It is that simple," Reid wasn't sure if he was arguing with his father, the memory of Gideon's lecture – or himself. "I quit. I – I'm done. After everything I've been through, and done, for them, and they were going to make me do this? I'm not sick! I'm not crazy! I – I'm not Mom. I won't do it. I – I can't."

"Can't, or won't?" Will whispered the phrase Spencer's mother had used on him so often to challenge him in his childhood.

There was a long, heavy pause before Spencer finally turned around to face his father, revealing the tears that were now streaking his cheeks.

"What if – what if I am like her? What if I'm sick? What if I'm crazy?" His voice was broken and shaking as he finally let his true colors bleed painfully through.

"Spencer," Will spoke seriously, taking his son's shoulder's in his hands. "I know you. You may not think that I do. But I do. And you are not crazy. You're not her."

His voice was filled with so much certainty that a part of Reid really did desire to believe him.

"But what if I am?" Spencer pressed pathetically and desperately.

"Well, then, we will deal with that," Will answered assuredly, "together. The two of us. I won't leave you. Not again. Not this time."

Nothing more was said as Spencer let his pride and knees collapse. All his walls came crashing down, as his body crumbled into his father's strong embrace. Those barriers were no longer holding him up. His father was.