Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Sure, it seemed like a normal day at the Behavioral Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia. And to an outsider, that's all it was.
But not to Aaron Hotchner. He was trained to notice when something was off, and there certainly was today.
It had to do with his team members. There was an odd feeling around the bullpen, and Hotch couldn't quite place which agent it involved.
Morgan was fine. Better than fine, actually. He had been bragging about a date he had later that night during the morning briefing, and the smirk was still present on his face even now.
JJ was okay. Henry had been sick last night, so she was planning on leaving early. She talked with Will on the phone only ten minutes ago, and there was a tiny, peaceful smile on her face now.
Prentiss was normal. She kept licking her lips as she filled out reports, and her foot was jiggling up and down, which Hotch attributed to boredom. Wouldn't be the first time.
Rossi and Garcia were tucked away in their respective offices, so they couldn't have an effect on the bullpen's atmosphere.
That left their youngest: Reid. As soon as Hotch laid eyes on him, he knew it was Reid who was different. His normally bright eyes were dull and empty, and they weren't moving back and forth, reading the billionth report. Even worse, his hands weren't fidgeting, but staying still on the desk before him.
Hotch frowned, and he wondered what was wrong with Reid. The first thing to pop into his mind made Hotch shudder. Reid wasn't using again, right?
Hotch didn't want to believe that, but if the younger man was, he couldn't ignore it. Standing up from his desk, he strode out onto the catwalk that passed by his office.
"Reid," he called, causing his team to look up in surprise. Reid jumped. "My office." He nodded meekly and hurried up the steps, slipping into the room behind Hotch. He settled into the chair opposite the Unit Chief and bit his lip.
"You wanted to see me?" he asked nervously. Hotch watched him closely.
"Yes." Then he froze. He had no clue as to where to go from here. He couldn't just outright ask Reid because then he would become defensive and deny everything. "Uh, how are you?"
Reid blinked in surprise. "What?"
"How are you?" he repeated. Reid just gaped at him. "It's not that hard a question, Reid."
"Uh, fine, I guess," Reid finally said, still looking confused. Hotch sighed.
"You don't seem it."
Reid frowned and sat up straighter. His expression became closed off, and Hotch was surprised at how distant the man seemed.
"I'm fine, Hotch, really." He began to stand up. "If that's all…"
"No, that's not all," Hotch said harshly. "Sit down."
Reid sighed and sank back down. He began to twiddle his thumbs together, and he stared at his worn Converse as opposed to Hotch.
"I've noticed that you seem… Different." At Reid's confused look he continued. "You've become distant and withdrawn. Lately, when Morgan or Prentiss tease you, you haven't made some kind of remark back. It's almost like when you first joined the BAU and you were incredibly shy."
"I just have a lot going on, okay?" Reid mumbled. Hotch's face tightened. He was tired of beating around the bush and waiting for his agent to come forward himself.
"Have you been using again?" he asked bluntly. Reid's head snapped up, and his mouth fell open.
"You think I'm… You think I'm taking Dilaudid again?" He sounded hurt and betrayed, like he couldn't believe Hotch would even consider it. Hotch was ashamed at himself for thinking it.
"What else am I supposed to believe?" Hotch asked, trying to keep his face emotionless.
"I-I don't know, but not that!" Reid cried. "I've gotten better, honest…"
"I know you have," Hotch replied gently. "I'm just worried about you."
Reid was silent for a long time, and for a while Hotch didn't think he'd say anything. That was why he was surprised when he heard him say something a moment later.
"My dad died." Hotch looked up from his desk.
"Oh. I'm… very sorry to hear that."
"It's okay," Reid said right away. He opened his mouth as if to say something else, then closed it abruptly.
"Reid?" Hotch prodded. Reid sighed.
"It's just… I should be sad, right? I mean, he was my father. I should be crying, wondering what I could have done to help him, something. But I feel… Nothing." He looked at Hotch helplessly. "I don't know what to feel."
Hotch pressed his lips together and offered a small, sympathetic smile. "That's understandable. You didn't know him all that well."
"He left me, Hotch," he said quietly. "When I was a boy, he left my mom and I and never looked back. Do you know what it's like to grow up without a father? Especially when your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic?"
Hotch licked his lips. "I can't claim to understand the second part, but," he hesitated slightly. Was he really going to go there? "But, I did lose my father when I was young. And even before that he wasn't the best dad."
"Never would've guessed," Reid said softly.
"What do you mean?"
Reid smiled wryly. "You're a great father, so it's hard to believe yours wasn't."
Hotch's chest tightened, and he had to tear his eyes away. It wasn't fair that Reid's father missed out on seeing the great man his son had become. It wasn't fair that Reid had lost so many father figures. First is actual dad, then Gideon. It wasn't right. Reid needed someone to be there for him, and Hotch knew what he had to do.
"Would you like to join Jack and I for dinner?" he asked.
For the second time since entering Hotch's office, Reid looked confused. "What?"
"I'm making Jack's favorite meal tonight, and I wanted to know if you would like to join us."
"Uh, I don't want to crash your father-son time…"
"You're not," Hotch said firmly. "I want you to come."
Reid was silent as he contemplated his offer. Hotch wondered what was running through his head.
Finally Reid sighed and nodded. "Okay. That sounds nice."
Hotch smiled. "Great. Can you be ready to leave at five?"
Reid just nodded before leaving the office.
Five o'clock rolled around, and Hotch stood by Reid's desk as he gathered his things. The car ride over to Hotch's apartment was silent, mainly due to the way Reid was staring out the window. Hotch kept glancing over now and then.
Reid trailed behind his boss as Hotch unlocked his door, and stood awkwardly in the doorway when Jack Hotchner grabbed his father's legs.
"Daddy!" he cried
"Hey, buddy," Hotch greeted, setting his briefcase on the coffee table. He turned to Reid, who was still in the doorway. "You can come in, you know." He turned his gaze back to his son and squatted down so he was seeing eye-to-eye with him. "Hey Jack, is it okay if your Uncle Spencer joins us for dinner?"
"Yeah!" Jack cheered. Reid smiled a bit and allowed himself to take a few more cautious steps in.
"Where's your Aunt Jess?" Hotch called out to his son as he disappeared into his bedroom. He came out a moment later in a gray t-shirt and jeans, and Reid had to suppress a smile. It was always weird seeing the stern Unit Chief in casual clothes.
"She left a few minutes ago. She knew you were coming home, so she said it would be okay to leave."
"Right, she has a meeting to get to. She told me she would leave a bit earlier." Hotch looked at Reid, who was standing in the middle of the living room. With a sigh, he walked over to the young doctor and took his bag from him. Holding out his hand, he said, "Jacket." Reid obeyed and slipped it off, handing it to Hotch. He put them in the coat closet before adding, "You can make yourself at home. Jack, why don't you show Uncle Spencer that science project of yours while I get dinner started?"
Jack nodded excitedly and rushed off to his room. He returned a moment later with a poster board covered in his messy writing.
"See, Uncle Spencer? I got to learn about dinosaurs!" He began to give Reid his whole report, and Reid felt his unease slip away. He couldn't help but smile at the boy's eagerness. After Jack took him through his project, he brought out some action figures and all but shoved them into Reid's hands. The FBI agent was both amused and impressed by the little boy's imagination. Jack concocted a backstory for the characters he assigned to the small figurines.
Hotch watched this all from the kitchen. He was busy making the mac and cheese, but he found himself watching his coworker and son more often than not. He could feel a content smile playing across his face, and he realized that was exactly how he felt at that moment: Content. His son looked like he was having the time of his life, and Reid looked like he was finally allowing himself to relax.
"Dinner's ready," Hotch called a few minutes later. "Wash your hands, Jack."
His son padded down the hall to the bathroom, and Reid entered the kitchen right behind him.
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked, rocking back and forth on his feet like a nervous kid. Hotch had to had his smile.
"Actually, could you bring these bowls over to the table?"
A few minutes after that, and the three of them were seated around the table, eating mac and cheese. Jack regaled them with stories from his school, and Hotch was pleased to see Reid ask some questions every now and then.
Picking up his glass of water, Hotch leaned back in his chair and took a sip as he watched Jack ask Reid what an eidetic memory was. The older man smirked at Reid's attempt to explain it to the seven-year-old boy.
After dinner Jack begged to play a board game, and Reid agreed to Chutes and Ladders. They played two rounds before Hotch announced it was bedtime.
"But Daddyy…" Jack whined.
"No buts," Hotch said quietly, yet firmly. "Go get your pajamas on."
Jack reluctantly nodded and walked away. When Hotch turned around he saw Reid eye the clock with a small frown.
"I should get going," he said hesitantly. Hotch quickly stood up from the couch.
"I'll drive you," he offered. Reid waved his hand dismissively.
"You have Jack," he objected. "Honestly, Hotch, I'll take the bus."
"No," Hotch replied immediately. "If that's what you're going to do you might as well sleep on the couch."
"I couldn't do that."
"Yes, you can," Hotch said the same way he told Jack to get ready for bed. He got out a blanket and a pillow from the closet and began to spread them out on the couch while Reid stood there silently. He was just finishing tucking in the blanket when Jack came out, dressing in Captain America pajamas.
"Is Uncle Spencer sleeping over?" he asked tiredly, rubbing his eyes warily. Staying up past his bedtime even a little bit was messing with him.
"Yep," he said briskly. "Have you brushed your teeth?"
Jack nodded, and Hotch gave him a smile. "Great. Go get settled in bed, and I'll be right in to read with you." Once Jack was gone he turned to Reid. "Come with me."
He led the quiet agent into his bedroom and yanked out a pair of flannel pajama pants and an old FBI shirt. Giving them to Reid, he said, "You can sleep in these. In the morning I'll drive you to your house so you can pick up some clothes, alright?"
Reid nodded and sucked his lips in. Hotch eyed him carefully before exiting the room, closing the door behind him. He slipped into Jack's room and read another chapter of Harry Potter. Once they were finished Hotch put the book away, turned off the light, and gave Jack a kiss. He stopped into his own room to change, making sure Reid wasn't there. Then he walked out into the living room to see Reid curled up on the couch reading a thick book.
"Hey," Hotch said quietly, trying not to scare the younger man. No such luck. Reid visibly jumped and lost his place in the book.
"Sorry," Hotch said, stepping over to the couch. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," Reid said, gulping slightly. His eyes fell to the shiny cover of the book and played with the corner of it. He seemed to be debating as to what to say.
Finally he found the words. Taking a deep breath, he looked up and said, "Thank you for… For everything, I guess."
"For tonight, you mean?" Hotch tilted his head in confusion.
"Well, that and for always being there for me," Reid added.
Hotch's features softened, and he sat down on the couch next to Reid. "I haven't always been very good at that," he argued quietly.
"Are you kidding?" Reid squeaked dubiously. "You taught me how to shoot a gun. You understood my message when I basically sentenced you to death. You never looked at me like some kid who couldn't do his job." He fell silent for a moment before adding, "You've been a better father to me than my actual father."
It wasn't easy to make Hotch cry, but he could feel tears springing up now. The thought that he could have actually done something right for his youngest agent seemed too good to be true, yet the proof was sitting right in front of him.
"You know, Reid," he sighed, "Spencer, if you ever need anything or you just want to come over for dinner, you let me know." He gave Reid a smile and squeezed his shoulder. "As far as I'm concerned, you're my son."
Reid's eyes lit up for the first time in days, and he smiled shyly. "Thanks, Hotch."
"Anytime. Now get some sleep. You looked like you haven't in weeks. I'll leave the bathroom light on for you, okay?"
"Okay. Thanks," Reid said sheepishly. His fear of the dark would probably haunt him forever.
"You need to stop saying that," Hotch teased, flicking the light on.
"… Sorry."
Hotch chuckled and leaned against the doorframe to his room. "Goodnight, Reid."
"'Night, Hotch."
Just wanted to let everyone know that nominations for the Profiler's Choice Awards are beginning on the Chit Chat on Author's Corner Forum, so check that out! I've never participated in one, but I can't wait to see what it's all about this year. You can nominate your favorite stories and vote on them later.
And for anyone who is on Tumblr, I finally got one, so follow me if you want. My username over there is the same as it is here (14hpgirl19). I'll probably use that to upate people on my stories. =)
Thanks for reading, and please leave a review! =)