Second Childhood
Part 21
“Dr Reid, come in, my name is Kristy.” Kristy opened the door wider and Spencer stepped into a large, airy children’s playroom where he could see two children, a girl playing with a doll and a boy climbing on a plastic slide. “Is there anyone we can notify?”
“No,” Spencer admitted sadly. He bit down on his lower lip to keep it from quivering.
“Who’s this?” Another woman came forward from where she’d been in an adjoining room.
“This is Dr Spencer Reid,” Kristy said, emphasizing the “doctor” part. The other woman’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Dr Reid?”
“You might as well call me Spencer,” he said.
“Spencer, I’m Jill.” She smiled warmly down at him, but Spencer didn’t miss the quick glance she threw over his head to Kristy which clearly asked, What are we going to do with him?
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Spencer said quickly, trying to sound upbeat and not as though he were going to cry. “I’ll just find a quiet place to sit and read. I have a few books in my bag.”
Unfortunately, he’d left all the research for his paper at Hotch’s, and if he wanted it, he’d have to ask Garcia to call Jessica to get the keys and go around and get it. And now that the team was on a case, Garcia would probably be working overtime with the rest of them. It was the most trivial thing, but it still threatened to send tears to his eyes. He bit his lip again, then unzipped his bag and felt around until he’d found one of the books on the bottom.
“I’ll take your bag to the bedroom,” Jill offered, pointing to a door on the far right side of the playroom. “It’s just over there, you can get it any time.”
“Thank you,” Spencer said. He glanced around. There was a soft looking mat in one corner, with lots of cushions piled in a heap, and he went over with the intent of making himself comfortable there.
“Oh, Spencer, wait –“ Kristy said, but Spencer had already taken a cushion to tuck behind his back. There was a cry from underneath, and then a screaming boy exploded out of the pile.
“My beaver lodge!” he screeched. “My beaver lodge!”
Oh, no, not another Henry. As Spencer extended the pillow so the boy could take it back, the boy rushed awkwardly towards him, using both his feet and his hands, then sank his teeth into the side of Spencer’s shin, getting not only Spencer’s pants leg, but also some of the skin underneath. Spencer cried out, and when Kristy grabbed the boy to pull him away, the boy’s bite tightened. Kristy had to tickle him a little to get him to open up, and Spencer pulled his leg free.
“Spencer, are you all right?” she asked as she straightened up.
“I don’t think it went through,” Spencer said, rolling up his pant leg to check. No blood, but it really hurt.
“Jonas, no biting,” Kristy told the boy wriggling in her arms. “Time-out chair.”
“No!” Jonas exclaimed, trying to escape, and almost succeeding. He looked to be about six or maybe seven years old and a little taller than Spencer. “My beaver lodge!”
“Time-out first, then beaver lodge.”
“I’m sorry, we should have warned you faster,” Jill said. “Jonas is … going through a beaver stage at the moment. Do you want some ice for that?”
“Yes, please,” Spencer said. “And can I go sit in the bedroom?”
“Sure,” she said, and walked him over, then opened the door and turned on the lights. It was a large room with three beds on one side, all divided from each other by partitions that ran from the wall almost to the foot of each bed. There were shelves on each partition, and Spencer’s bag had been put on the bottom shelf by the bed closest to the door. On the other side of the room were three cribs, a rocking chair, and a big, soft-looking recliner. Spencer sat down on “his” bed, leaned back against the wall, and took a closer look at his leg. The bite was starting to bruise.
“I’ll be right back with the ice pack,” Jill said, and when she returned, she laid it on his leg. “It’ll be lunchtime in twenty minutes, I’ll come take it off then – or you can take it off yourself.”
She’d scarcely gone when Kristy came in with Jonas.
“Jonas, say sorry to Spencer,” she said.
“I sorry you not a beaver, Spencer,” Jonas said.
Kristy looked as though she were going to do what Garcia called a face-palm, and clarified, “Say ‘I’m sorry I bit you, Spencer.’”
“I sorry I bit you, Spencer,” Jonas repeated in an obedient monotone. Kristy sighed a little, smiled apologetically at Spencer, and took Jonas out again.
Spencer thought Hotch might find the incident funny, so he took out his phone and dialled, but only got Hotch’s mailbox. After leaving a quick message, he saw that his phone needed charging, too. He found the cable and the charger easily in his bag, but all the outlets in the room were not only high up on the wall, but also occupied by plugs from lamps and nightlights, or covered by child-proof devices. In the end, he had to ask Jill to help him. She plugged it in, but the power cord was too short for her to put the charger anywhere else but on the topmost shelf.
The day went by slowly, with Spencer’s reading being interrupted by lunch and then later by an obligatory play session outdoors in the little playground. Spencer wiped the moisture off a swing with the sleeve of his coat and spent the time swinging. Then it was shift-change, when new caretakers named Mina and Connie came in and Spencer had to participate in the afternoon ritual of circle-time, which apparently served to introduce the new adults to the children while getting the new women up to speed on what had happened during the morning.
At suppertime, they were all sitting at the low, round table when the doorbell rang, and Mina got up to answer it.
“Here’s your mother, Jonas!” she exclaimed happily when she came back.
“Beaver-Mommy!” Jonas cried, flinging himself out of his chair and running over. First, he bent down and smacked the floor with one hand, then he straightened up and let his mother spread her arms and gather him into a hug. “Come here, my little Jonas-Beaver! Did you have fun in Yearlingcare?”
“I made beaver lodges. Pillows and blocks!” Jonas told her.
“Yes, apparently he spent all morning under the cushions, and in the afternoon, he used the blocks to make a beaver lodge for his beaver toy,” Connie explained.
“Did he bite anyone?” the mother asked, putting Jonas down again.
“He didn’t bite me to-day!” the other boy announced proudly. “I would have bitten him back!”
“Jonas bit Spencer, but he apologised.”
“Oh, Jonas,” the mother sighed, then came around the table to crouch down next to Spencer. “I’m very sorry that Jonas bit you. I hope you’re okay.”
“It’s all right,” Spencer said. “At least he didn’t leave a scent mount on me, too. Did you know that beavers –“
“Yes, I know that,” Jonas’ mother interrupted very quickly and very firmly. More quietly, she hissed, “Please don’t talk about that, you’ll give him ideas.”
“Sorry,” Spencer said with an apologetic grimace. It was, he supposed, very possible that Jonas would try to imitate scent mounds by making mudpies all over the place and then peeing on them, or worse.
“Beaver-Mommy, tree bark!” Jonas whined. “Tree bark!”
“Did you eat your Yearling supper? You remember the rule, you can only have tree bark if you eat the Yearling food here at Yearlingcare,” his mother asked, looking at the two caretakers for confirmation.
“Yes,” Jonas said, and Mina and Connie both answered in the affirmative as well.
“All right, then you can have one strip of tree bark when we’re in the car.”
“I ate tree bark to-day. Jonas said tree bark tastes good, but it was yucky,” the other boy said.
“That’s because you’re not a beaver,” Spencer told him.
“My tree bark tastes good!” Jonas said, and yanked his mother’s purse away from her arm. Before she could grab it back, he’d pulled a package of gummy worms from the side pocket and was reaching in. “My tree bark!”
“Want tree bark, too!” the girl hollered, getting off her chair to rush over.
“Me, too!” the other boy exclaimed.
Jonas stuffed three worms into his mouth at once, the brightly coloured ends dangling down his chin. His mother snatched the package out of his hand, then came to the table and picked out a worm, which she offered to the girl. She laid another worm then in the open palm of the other boy, and gave Spencer the last worm before neatly folding the package flat and sliding it back into her purse. Spencer put the worm next to his plate for dessert after he’d finished his supper. “Thank you.”
“All right, Jonas-Beaver, you’ve had your Yearling supper and way too much tree bark, now it’s time to put on your outdoors beaver-pelt and come home to the family lodge,” Jonas’s mother announced.
Jonas, who had been following his mother around the table, made a sneaky grab for Spencer’s gummy worm without anybody else noticing, then raced to the coat rack. While he was getting his coat on, his mother was addressing the caretakers. “Thank you so much for dealing with him again to-day. I know you’re all hoping his dad gets out of the hospital soon, and so am I. And once I can get to the store again, I’ll make it up to all of you.”
“Don’t worry so much about it. He’s actually very pleasant when he’s not biting,” Connie assured her.
The mother looked pained anyway, then said, “Say good-bye to Yearlingcare now, Jonas-Beaver.”
Jonas slapped his hand on the floor again, and Spencer recognised that he was acting in imitation of a beaver tail on the surface of a pond. Then Jonas said, “Good-bye, Yearlingcare.”
“Good-bye, Jonas-Beaver,” Mina and Connie chorused with the ease of much practise, waving as well.
Almost as soon as they had gone, the other parents arrived, and soon there was only Spencer left in the centre. At bedtime, he got into his pyjamas and got into the strange bed, which looked and felt and even smelled different than the bunk bed at home. Remembering home reminded him of Hotch, and of his phone, so he got out of bed again to retrieve it. His hand didn’t quite reach the top, however, so he dragged his go-bag out from the bottom shelf to make room for his foot, took a grip on the second-highest shelf, and tried to step up. The shelf came away in his hand and he fell backwards on the bed, managing to knock the bedside lamp over as well.
Mina came running in. “Spencer, what are you doing?”
“I just wanted to get my phone, but this shelf wasn’t secure,” Spencer said, putting the shelf to one side so he could pick up the lamp. “I think one of the brackets is either missing or broken.”
“These shelves are not for climbing, whether all the brackets are there or not,” Mina told him, slotting the shelf back where it belonged. Spencer’s phone rang, and she picked it off the charger, then handed it to him. “You should have asked for help.”
“I’m sorry.” Spencer felt ashamed as he admitted, “Sometimes I forget.”
Thankfully, Mina went out, and Spencer answered the phone with a joyous, “Hotch!”
“Spencer, are you all right? I’ve been trying to call you since we landed, but I only got your voicemail. Garcia told me that Strauss literally dragged you off to childcare, and I was worried.”
“My phone was charging, and I’m okay, Hotch, but Strauss had been drinking,” Spencer said. “I could smell it on her breath. And she seemed disproportionately furious about the situation.”
“Was she aggressive?” Hotch asked.
“She grabbed my arm and took my badge, but she didn’t hurt me,” Spencer reported. “She was just so angry! She said she’d bent over backwards to arrange things, but I’m not sure she really meant me. She kept accusing me of sneaking around, going behind her back, trying to do something she’d told me not to – I think something else was the stressor, Hotch. Maybe something to do with her family?”
“I knew she was having problems, but I thought she was getting help,” Hotch said. “I’m sorry you got caught up in it, Spencer. I’ll have to contact the director over this, I can’t do anything else from here.”
“Where are you?” Spencer asked. He hadn’t even had time to look inside the file before Strauss had arrived.
“New Mexico. Listen, Spencer, I can try to get Jessica to pick you up if you want, if it’s really bad there.” Hotch didn’t sound enthusiastic about the prospect, however.
“But you’d prefer not to have to,” Spencer said.
“I spoke to Jessica to-day, she said she’s got a project for work due on the 23rd, because of Christmas. She didn’t come right out and say it, but I know it’s stressful for her to have to take care of Jack at the same time.”
And if Jessica was stressed, it meant extra stress for Hotch as well. Spencer decided not to tell him that he’d been bitten in the leg and it had left a bruise. Instead, he tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn, then said, “I, uh, I can stay. It’s not quite as awful as I thought it would be. I just wish I hadn’t left all my research home, but it’s okay, I don’t have any deadline for my paper.”
“Thank you, Spencer, that’s good to hear.” Hotch immediately sounded more cheerful. “I guess you must be tired now, huh?”
“It’s been a long day,” Spencer agreed, and yawned again.
Hotch’s smile was audible in his voice as he said, “Then I’ll say good night, and I’ll try to call you to-morrow around this same time?”
“Maybe a little earlier if you can make it. Good night, Hotch, and good luck on the case. I’d offer to help, but, uh … “
“I know. Sleep well, Spencer.”
But Spencer woke up some hours later from a nightmare that involved a beaver as large and as furious as Strauss, dragging him off to not only bite him, but also rip his clothes off with her claws and tie him, naked, to one of the trees near the beaver lodge, where all the other beavers had already assembled …
“NO! NO! HELP ME!” Spencer screamed, and when a female shape appeared and put a hand on his shoulder, he screamed again and threw himself onto the floor. “DON’T DO THIS!” And then he whined, “Please! Please!”
“Hey, hey, Spencer, calm down, it was just a dream,” a female voice said. “Calm down, it’s okay, you’re fine.”
The female shape came around to where he was huddling. “It’s okay, honey, it was just a dream. You’re awake now, and everything’s okay.”
“Stay away!” Spencer screeched, kicking out when the female dared to approach. “Don’t come any closer! Don’t touch me!”
“I can turn on the light,” the woman suggested. “The light will chase the bad dreams away.”
“Help me! Help me!” Spencer pleaded, in case anyone else was listening. The woman might be Strauss, disguising her voice. Or there could be beavers hiding in the shadows. The woman stood up and flicked the switch, revealing herself to be a woman in her forties, built remarkably similar to Strauss, but with dark hair instead of blonde. He’d never seen her before.
“Who are you?” Spencer demanded.
“My name’s Molly, I’m here to take care of you in the night.”
Spencer glanced around, slowly recognising where he was. The bed he’d fallen asleep in, the walls, the partition to the next area. Across the room were cribs, a recliner, a rocking chair. Windows with the curtains pulled. No beavers. No Strauss. Nobody trying to slash his clothes off and tie him up, just this kindly-looking woman. The fear ebbed slowly out of him.
“You had a bad dream,” Molly said, coming closer with a hand extended. “Come sit with me in the rocking chair until you feel better.”
Spencer scooted backwards a little, and she stopped. He didn’t know her, and as tempting as a rocking chair would be, she wasn’t Hotch. “No, thank you. I can go back to sleep on my own now.”
He got up and climbed back into bed, looking around for Boney, then found the sweatshirt half hidden under his pillow. Pulling it out, he quickly traced the fluorescent lines with one finger, then laid down on his side, keeping his hand on the picture of the dinosaur. The pounding of his heart was already slowing down, too. “I’m okay. Just ... can you leave the light on for a few minutes, please?“
“Sure,” Molly said, then waved a hand in the direction of the recliner. “You want me to sit over there for a few minutes, too? Keep you safe?”
“You don’t have to stay, I’ll be fine.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. At least he hadn’t cried, but, oh, how he missed Hotch.
+++++
16 December 2011
When he woke up again, the overhead light was off, but daylight was just starting to come through the windows. Spencer got out of bed and opened the door to the playroom.
“Good morning, Spencer,” Kristy greeted him cheerfully.
“Good morning,” he repeated, and went to the bathroom. When he came back, Jill said, “A friend of yours was just here. Penelope Garcia?”
Spencer glanced around, but Garcia had obviously come and gone. “She was here? You should have woken me up!”
“I offered, but she said she didn’t have time. She just wanted to drop a few things off for you.” Jill lifted a plastic bag, and Spencer rushed over to see what was inside.
“My research paper! Excellent! I have to call and say thanks!”
“And get dressed, and come have breakfast,” Kristy prompted.
Spencer dumped the collection of papers out onto his bed. Garcia had not only packed his research, but also the pad he used for writing to his mother. He grabbed his phone and dialled Garcia’s work phone.
“The name Penelope means weaver, and this Penelope is hard at work weaving a digital net to help you catch the Unsub,” Garcia announced. “So gimme another strand to work with.”
“Hi, Garcia,” Spencer said, and Garcia squealed. “Spencer! Hi! I’m sorry I didn’t have time to come in and chat, but did you get the stuff I left for you?”
“Yes, and thank you, Garcia, I will love you forever,” Spencer replied.
“Hotch called me last night and told me to pick them up for you. Hey, how is it down there? Do you want me to organise a jail break and smuggle you up to my office before Strauss gets in?”
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to risk running into Strauss again,” Spencer said. A hungover Strauss might be even worse than a drunk Strauss. “It’s actually not too bad here, and it’ll be a lot better now that I can work on my paper, so thanks again.”
“You’re very welcome, Junior Genius. Have fun!”
“You, too. Bye!”
Spencer changed into clean clothes, then went out to the playroom again. Jill was putting a plate on the round table for him, and when he sat down, she took off the cover. There were scrambled eggs on top of a waffle, with a strip of bacon on the side, and Jill gave him a little container of syrup to open along with a carton of milk. When he’d finished eating, Jill remarked, “So, Molly said you had a nightmare last night.”
“Yeah,” Spencer remembered.
“It sounded pretty intense, from what she said.”
“Yes,” Spencer agreed. “I had a very bad day yesterday and my subconscious was sorting it all out, but now that I’ve got my paper to work on, to-day should be much better.”
Kristy smiled. “Jonas bit me once, too, but ice cream helped me feel better.”
Spencer thought that a beaver bite was the least of his worries, but he didn’t say that. Then the doorbell rang, and Jill got up to let Jonas and his mother come in.
“His father will be released from the hospital on Monday, so I’ll take that day off to get things settled. And to-morrow’s the weekend, so let’s hope this will be his last day here for a while,” the mother remarked, then turned to her son. “Beaver-Mommy has to go to work now, so Jonas-Beaver can have lots of fun here in Yearlingcare, okay?”
“Beaver lodge,” Jonas announced, pointing to the pile of cushions.
“Hey, Jonas, have you had breakfast already?” Jill asked.
Jonas didn’t answer, but his mother sighed and said, “No, we didn’t have time for him to eat at home.”
“No problem, we’ve got plenty of good Yearling food right here,” Kristy said, standing up. “I’ll get you something, Jonas.”
“Okay, now remember, don’t bite anybody, and I’ll see you this afternoon.” Then the mother gave Jonas a hug. “Goodbye, I love you, Jonas-Beaver!”
Jonas wriggled out of her embrace, then leaned down and smacked his hand on the floor. “Goodbye, Beaver-Mommy!” Then, with scarcely a pause, he walked over to the mat and lay down on his back. “Beaver lodge!”
“Yearling food first,” Jill said, going to retrieve him. “Then beaver lodge!”
There was still plenty of room on the other side of the table even while Jonas was eating, so Spencer asked, “Can I work on my paper out here?”
“Sure, why not?” Kristy said. Spencer got the research-related papers from the bedroom and spread them out on the table where he’d been sitting before, then started work. He was interrupted by the arrival of a new girl about two years old, who sat down directly opposite him to eat her breakfast, and spent the entire meal staring at him. Then, just when he was gettng into the flow of things again, it was time to go outside. Spencer gathered his things into a neat pile, then went to get his coat and boots. He was the first one out, and then Jonas ran past him, wearing shoes but no coat, and yelling, “Beaver dam, beaver dam!”
Jill raced after him with his coat, and just as Spencer was getting on the swing, he heard her ask, “Where did you get that paper, Jonas?”
With a sinking feeling, Spencer abandoned the swing and ran over to where Jonas was crouched down near the climbing frame. There was a puddle of water in a depression at the foot of the ladder, and in the puddle were all his papers, with Jonah pushing them down to soak them evenly.
“My paper!” Spencer exclaimed, plucking the pages out of the puddle. “My research!”
“My beaver dam!” Jonas yelled, trying to pull the papers out of Spencer’s hands. Spencer tightened his grip, and Jonas lowered his head and bit savagely into the knuckle at the base of Spencer’s thumb. Spencer screamed and reacted instinctively, letting go of his papers, kicking Jonas hard in the shin, then slapping him in the face with his free hand. As his head snapped away, Jonas took a piece of skin with him, and Spencer shrieked in pain. He gave Jonas an extra push, and Jonas fell onto his behind, screeching as well.
Crying, blood dripping from his hand, Spencer bent down to gather up his papers. Kristy was there as well, helping Jonas up.
“Jonas, Spencer, come inside,” she said, keeping a firm grip on Jonas’s wrist. Spencer led the way indoors, and while Kristy took Jonas to the time-out chair, Spencer went into the bedroom and dumped the dripping pile of paper on his bed. Still sobbing, he ripped off his coat, noticing how blood flew whenever he moved his hand, just like blood splatters at a crime scene – a crime scene that he currently was not investigating. The association with his lack of work made his heart hurt along with the physical pain and anger, and he laid down on the bed, wrapping Boney around his hand and crying even more.
Eventually, Kristy came in. “Spencer?”
Still sobbing, Spencer pulled his hand out of the bundle of sweatshirt and held it out. “He almost bit my thumb off!”
“Oh, honey, why didn’t you tell us you were hurt instead of hiding in here?” Kristy took a closer look. “Your thumb is still there. I’ll get the first aid kit.”
She came back a few moments later and sat down next to him. “Let’s get it cleaned up first, all right?”
She sprayed some disinfectant on a gauze pad and wiped it gently over the wound.
“Yowww!” Spencer wailed. “That stings!”
“All done. There was a lot of blood, but it doesn’t look too deep. Can you still move everything properly?” When Spencer demonstrated, she went on, “Then it should heal just fine. Now we’ll put some salve and a bandage on it.”
By the time Kristy had finished wrapping it up, Spencer’s sobs were slowing down, but his hand was still throbbing, and he whined, “I want some ibuprofen!”
“Do you want to come with me while I get you some? Some ice might help, too.”
“Ice cream?” Spencer asked. The hope was enough to get him to stop crying.
“We don’t have any here.”
“But you said ice cream helped you feel better after Jonas bit you,” Spencer reminded her, feeling the next wave of tears come.
“Oh, honey, I meant that I had some ice cream after I went home,” Kristy said.
The disappointment was too much, and Spencer started to sob again. “I want to go home again, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to! I have to wait for Hotch to finish the case, and it usually takes days, and he’s only been gone twenty four hours! One time we had a case that took over a week! I could be here until Christmas!”
Kristy gave him a quick hug. “Come on, honey, let’s go get you that ibuprofen.”
“Is Jonas still out there?”
“He’s in his beaver lodge. I don’t think he’ll come out for a while.” Kristy took Spencer by the hand and led him through the playroom to a door on the other side that led to a small pantry kitchen.
“Is he autistic?” Spencer asked, his voice hitching only a little.
“As far as I know, his parents are on the waiting list to get an appointment to have him diagnosed. You know how long these things can take.” Kristy used her badge to open the lock on a cabinet above the workspace, then took out a bottle of children’s ibuprofen and measured out a dose for him.
“Have a drink of water, too,” she urged, pouring some into a cup. Spencer drank it all and then sighed miserably.
The two-year-old girl had wandered over in the meantime and was staring at Spencer again. When she saw him put his cup down, she reached out one hand. “Dwink! Dwink!”
Kristy got her a drink, too, then shooed them both out of the kitchen. The girl tugged at Spencer’s arm, surprising him, then asked, “Play?”
Spencer hesitated for a moment, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. “Sure. Let’s go play.”
He played with blocks with her for a while, which really just meant that the girl knocked everything down that Spencer built. When she wandered off to find a doll, however, Spencer escaped and went back to the bedroom. His pile of paper was making a wet spot on the bed, and although he thought of picking the pages apart and setting them out to dry individually, it just didn’t seem worth the effort. Sadly, he picked them up and carried them out, heading for the kitchen.
“Spencer, what do you need?” Jill asked.
“I just wanted to throw this away,” he explained. “And I left it on my bed, and now the bed is wet, too.”
“Well, we can change the bed, but I’m sorry about your paper.”
“I can write it again,” he said. “It will just take time.”
And time, he thought, was one thing he currently had too much of.
Part 22
Part 20
Return to Criminal Minds page
“No,” Spencer admitted sadly. He bit down on his lower lip to keep it from quivering.
“Who’s this?” Another woman came forward from where she’d been in an adjoining room.
“This is Dr Spencer Reid,” Kristy said, emphasizing the “doctor” part. The other woman’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Dr Reid?”
“You might as well call me Spencer,” he said.
“Spencer, I’m Jill.” She smiled warmly down at him, but Spencer didn’t miss the quick glance she threw over his head to Kristy which clearly asked, What are we going to do with him?
“You don’t have to worry about me,” Spencer said quickly, trying to sound upbeat and not as though he were going to cry. “I’ll just find a quiet place to sit and read. I have a few books in my bag.”
Unfortunately, he’d left all the research for his paper at Hotch’s, and if he wanted it, he’d have to ask Garcia to call Jessica to get the keys and go around and get it. And now that the team was on a case, Garcia would probably be working overtime with the rest of them. It was the most trivial thing, but it still threatened to send tears to his eyes. He bit his lip again, then unzipped his bag and felt around until he’d found one of the books on the bottom.
“I’ll take your bag to the bedroom,” Jill offered, pointing to a door on the far right side of the playroom. “It’s just over there, you can get it any time.”
“Thank you,” Spencer said. He glanced around. There was a soft looking mat in one corner, with lots of cushions piled in a heap, and he went over with the intent of making himself comfortable there.
“Oh, Spencer, wait –“ Kristy said, but Spencer had already taken a cushion to tuck behind his back. There was a cry from underneath, and then a screaming boy exploded out of the pile.
“My beaver lodge!” he screeched. “My beaver lodge!”
Oh, no, not another Henry. As Spencer extended the pillow so the boy could take it back, the boy rushed awkwardly towards him, using both his feet and his hands, then sank his teeth into the side of Spencer’s shin, getting not only Spencer’s pants leg, but also some of the skin underneath. Spencer cried out, and when Kristy grabbed the boy to pull him away, the boy’s bite tightened. Kristy had to tickle him a little to get him to open up, and Spencer pulled his leg free.
“Spencer, are you all right?” she asked as she straightened up.
“I don’t think it went through,” Spencer said, rolling up his pant leg to check. No blood, but it really hurt.
“Jonas, no biting,” Kristy told the boy wriggling in her arms. “Time-out chair.”
“No!” Jonas exclaimed, trying to escape, and almost succeeding. He looked to be about six or maybe seven years old and a little taller than Spencer. “My beaver lodge!”
“Time-out first, then beaver lodge.”
“I’m sorry, we should have warned you faster,” Jill said. “Jonas is … going through a beaver stage at the moment. Do you want some ice for that?”
“Yes, please,” Spencer said. “And can I go sit in the bedroom?”
“Sure,” she said, and walked him over, then opened the door and turned on the lights. It was a large room with three beds on one side, all divided from each other by partitions that ran from the wall almost to the foot of each bed. There were shelves on each partition, and Spencer’s bag had been put on the bottom shelf by the bed closest to the door. On the other side of the room were three cribs, a rocking chair, and a big, soft-looking recliner. Spencer sat down on “his” bed, leaned back against the wall, and took a closer look at his leg. The bite was starting to bruise.
“I’ll be right back with the ice pack,” Jill said, and when she returned, she laid it on his leg. “It’ll be lunchtime in twenty minutes, I’ll come take it off then – or you can take it off yourself.”
She’d scarcely gone when Kristy came in with Jonas.
“Jonas, say sorry to Spencer,” she said.
“I sorry you not a beaver, Spencer,” Jonas said.
Kristy looked as though she were going to do what Garcia called a face-palm, and clarified, “Say ‘I’m sorry I bit you, Spencer.’”
“I sorry I bit you, Spencer,” Jonas repeated in an obedient monotone. Kristy sighed a little, smiled apologetically at Spencer, and took Jonas out again.
Spencer thought Hotch might find the incident funny, so he took out his phone and dialled, but only got Hotch’s mailbox. After leaving a quick message, he saw that his phone needed charging, too. He found the cable and the charger easily in his bag, but all the outlets in the room were not only high up on the wall, but also occupied by plugs from lamps and nightlights, or covered by child-proof devices. In the end, he had to ask Jill to help him. She plugged it in, but the power cord was too short for her to put the charger anywhere else but on the topmost shelf.
The day went by slowly, with Spencer’s reading being interrupted by lunch and then later by an obligatory play session outdoors in the little playground. Spencer wiped the moisture off a swing with the sleeve of his coat and spent the time swinging. Then it was shift-change, when new caretakers named Mina and Connie came in and Spencer had to participate in the afternoon ritual of circle-time, which apparently served to introduce the new adults to the children while getting the new women up to speed on what had happened during the morning.
At suppertime, they were all sitting at the low, round table when the doorbell rang, and Mina got up to answer it.
“Here’s your mother, Jonas!” she exclaimed happily when she came back.
“Beaver-Mommy!” Jonas cried, flinging himself out of his chair and running over. First, he bent down and smacked the floor with one hand, then he straightened up and let his mother spread her arms and gather him into a hug. “Come here, my little Jonas-Beaver! Did you have fun in Yearlingcare?”
“I made beaver lodges. Pillows and blocks!” Jonas told her.
“Yes, apparently he spent all morning under the cushions, and in the afternoon, he used the blocks to make a beaver lodge for his beaver toy,” Connie explained.
“Did he bite anyone?” the mother asked, putting Jonas down again.
“He didn’t bite me to-day!” the other boy announced proudly. “I would have bitten him back!”
“Jonas bit Spencer, but he apologised.”
“Oh, Jonas,” the mother sighed, then came around the table to crouch down next to Spencer. “I’m very sorry that Jonas bit you. I hope you’re okay.”
“It’s all right,” Spencer said. “At least he didn’t leave a scent mount on me, too. Did you know that beavers –“
“Yes, I know that,” Jonas’ mother interrupted very quickly and very firmly. More quietly, she hissed, “Please don’t talk about that, you’ll give him ideas.”
“Sorry,” Spencer said with an apologetic grimace. It was, he supposed, very possible that Jonas would try to imitate scent mounds by making mudpies all over the place and then peeing on them, or worse.
“Beaver-Mommy, tree bark!” Jonas whined. “Tree bark!”
“Did you eat your Yearling supper? You remember the rule, you can only have tree bark if you eat the Yearling food here at Yearlingcare,” his mother asked, looking at the two caretakers for confirmation.
“Yes,” Jonas said, and Mina and Connie both answered in the affirmative as well.
“All right, then you can have one strip of tree bark when we’re in the car.”
“I ate tree bark to-day. Jonas said tree bark tastes good, but it was yucky,” the other boy said.
“That’s because you’re not a beaver,” Spencer told him.
“My tree bark tastes good!” Jonas said, and yanked his mother’s purse away from her arm. Before she could grab it back, he’d pulled a package of gummy worms from the side pocket and was reaching in. “My tree bark!”
“Want tree bark, too!” the girl hollered, getting off her chair to rush over.
“Me, too!” the other boy exclaimed.
Jonas stuffed three worms into his mouth at once, the brightly coloured ends dangling down his chin. His mother snatched the package out of his hand, then came to the table and picked out a worm, which she offered to the girl. She laid another worm then in the open palm of the other boy, and gave Spencer the last worm before neatly folding the package flat and sliding it back into her purse. Spencer put the worm next to his plate for dessert after he’d finished his supper. “Thank you.”
“All right, Jonas-Beaver, you’ve had your Yearling supper and way too much tree bark, now it’s time to put on your outdoors beaver-pelt and come home to the family lodge,” Jonas’s mother announced.
Jonas, who had been following his mother around the table, made a sneaky grab for Spencer’s gummy worm without anybody else noticing, then raced to the coat rack. While he was getting his coat on, his mother was addressing the caretakers. “Thank you so much for dealing with him again to-day. I know you’re all hoping his dad gets out of the hospital soon, and so am I. And once I can get to the store again, I’ll make it up to all of you.”
“Don’t worry so much about it. He’s actually very pleasant when he’s not biting,” Connie assured her.
The mother looked pained anyway, then said, “Say good-bye to Yearlingcare now, Jonas-Beaver.”
Jonas slapped his hand on the floor again, and Spencer recognised that he was acting in imitation of a beaver tail on the surface of a pond. Then Jonas said, “Good-bye, Yearlingcare.”
“Good-bye, Jonas-Beaver,” Mina and Connie chorused with the ease of much practise, waving as well.
Almost as soon as they had gone, the other parents arrived, and soon there was only Spencer left in the centre. At bedtime, he got into his pyjamas and got into the strange bed, which looked and felt and even smelled different than the bunk bed at home. Remembering home reminded him of Hotch, and of his phone, so he got out of bed again to retrieve it. His hand didn’t quite reach the top, however, so he dragged his go-bag out from the bottom shelf to make room for his foot, took a grip on the second-highest shelf, and tried to step up. The shelf came away in his hand and he fell backwards on the bed, managing to knock the bedside lamp over as well.
Mina came running in. “Spencer, what are you doing?”
“I just wanted to get my phone, but this shelf wasn’t secure,” Spencer said, putting the shelf to one side so he could pick up the lamp. “I think one of the brackets is either missing or broken.”
“These shelves are not for climbing, whether all the brackets are there or not,” Mina told him, slotting the shelf back where it belonged. Spencer’s phone rang, and she picked it off the charger, then handed it to him. “You should have asked for help.”
“I’m sorry.” Spencer felt ashamed as he admitted, “Sometimes I forget.”
Thankfully, Mina went out, and Spencer answered the phone with a joyous, “Hotch!”
“Spencer, are you all right? I’ve been trying to call you since we landed, but I only got your voicemail. Garcia told me that Strauss literally dragged you off to childcare, and I was worried.”
“My phone was charging, and I’m okay, Hotch, but Strauss had been drinking,” Spencer said. “I could smell it on her breath. And she seemed disproportionately furious about the situation.”
“Was she aggressive?” Hotch asked.
“She grabbed my arm and took my badge, but she didn’t hurt me,” Spencer reported. “She was just so angry! She said she’d bent over backwards to arrange things, but I’m not sure she really meant me. She kept accusing me of sneaking around, going behind her back, trying to do something she’d told me not to – I think something else was the stressor, Hotch. Maybe something to do with her family?”
“I knew she was having problems, but I thought she was getting help,” Hotch said. “I’m sorry you got caught up in it, Spencer. I’ll have to contact the director over this, I can’t do anything else from here.”
“Where are you?” Spencer asked. He hadn’t even had time to look inside the file before Strauss had arrived.
“New Mexico. Listen, Spencer, I can try to get Jessica to pick you up if you want, if it’s really bad there.” Hotch didn’t sound enthusiastic about the prospect, however.
“But you’d prefer not to have to,” Spencer said.
“I spoke to Jessica to-day, she said she’s got a project for work due on the 23rd, because of Christmas. She didn’t come right out and say it, but I know it’s stressful for her to have to take care of Jack at the same time.”
And if Jessica was stressed, it meant extra stress for Hotch as well. Spencer decided not to tell him that he’d been bitten in the leg and it had left a bruise. Instead, he tried unsuccessfully to suppress a yawn, then said, “I, uh, I can stay. It’s not quite as awful as I thought it would be. I just wish I hadn’t left all my research home, but it’s okay, I don’t have any deadline for my paper.”
“Thank you, Spencer, that’s good to hear.” Hotch immediately sounded more cheerful. “I guess you must be tired now, huh?”
“It’s been a long day,” Spencer agreed, and yawned again.
Hotch’s smile was audible in his voice as he said, “Then I’ll say good night, and I’ll try to call you to-morrow around this same time?”
“Maybe a little earlier if you can make it. Good night, Hotch, and good luck on the case. I’d offer to help, but, uh … “
“I know. Sleep well, Spencer.”
But Spencer woke up some hours later from a nightmare that involved a beaver as large and as furious as Strauss, dragging him off to not only bite him, but also rip his clothes off with her claws and tie him, naked, to one of the trees near the beaver lodge, where all the other beavers had already assembled …
“NO! NO! HELP ME!” Spencer screamed, and when a female shape appeared and put a hand on his shoulder, he screamed again and threw himself onto the floor. “DON’T DO THIS!” And then he whined, “Please! Please!”
“Hey, hey, Spencer, calm down, it was just a dream,” a female voice said. “Calm down, it’s okay, you’re fine.”
The female shape came around to where he was huddling. “It’s okay, honey, it was just a dream. You’re awake now, and everything’s okay.”
“Stay away!” Spencer screeched, kicking out when the female dared to approach. “Don’t come any closer! Don’t touch me!”
“I can turn on the light,” the woman suggested. “The light will chase the bad dreams away.”
“Help me! Help me!” Spencer pleaded, in case anyone else was listening. The woman might be Strauss, disguising her voice. Or there could be beavers hiding in the shadows. The woman stood up and flicked the switch, revealing herself to be a woman in her forties, built remarkably similar to Strauss, but with dark hair instead of blonde. He’d never seen her before.
“Who are you?” Spencer demanded.
“My name’s Molly, I’m here to take care of you in the night.”
Spencer glanced around, slowly recognising where he was. The bed he’d fallen asleep in, the walls, the partition to the next area. Across the room were cribs, a recliner, a rocking chair. Windows with the curtains pulled. No beavers. No Strauss. Nobody trying to slash his clothes off and tie him up, just this kindly-looking woman. The fear ebbed slowly out of him.
“You had a bad dream,” Molly said, coming closer with a hand extended. “Come sit with me in the rocking chair until you feel better.”
Spencer scooted backwards a little, and she stopped. He didn’t know her, and as tempting as a rocking chair would be, she wasn’t Hotch. “No, thank you. I can go back to sleep on my own now.”
He got up and climbed back into bed, looking around for Boney, then found the sweatshirt half hidden under his pillow. Pulling it out, he quickly traced the fluorescent lines with one finger, then laid down on his side, keeping his hand on the picture of the dinosaur. The pounding of his heart was already slowing down, too. “I’m okay. Just ... can you leave the light on for a few minutes, please?“
“Sure,” Molly said, then waved a hand in the direction of the recliner. “You want me to sit over there for a few minutes, too? Keep you safe?”
“You don’t have to stay, I’ll be fine.” He closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. At least he hadn’t cried, but, oh, how he missed Hotch.
+++++
16 December 2011
When he woke up again, the overhead light was off, but daylight was just starting to come through the windows. Spencer got out of bed and opened the door to the playroom.
“Good morning, Spencer,” Kristy greeted him cheerfully.
“Good morning,” he repeated, and went to the bathroom. When he came back, Jill said, “A friend of yours was just here. Penelope Garcia?”
Spencer glanced around, but Garcia had obviously come and gone. “She was here? You should have woken me up!”
“I offered, but she said she didn’t have time. She just wanted to drop a few things off for you.” Jill lifted a plastic bag, and Spencer rushed over to see what was inside.
“My research paper! Excellent! I have to call and say thanks!”
“And get dressed, and come have breakfast,” Kristy prompted.
Spencer dumped the collection of papers out onto his bed. Garcia had not only packed his research, but also the pad he used for writing to his mother. He grabbed his phone and dialled Garcia’s work phone.
“The name Penelope means weaver, and this Penelope is hard at work weaving a digital net to help you catch the Unsub,” Garcia announced. “So gimme another strand to work with.”
“Hi, Garcia,” Spencer said, and Garcia squealed. “Spencer! Hi! I’m sorry I didn’t have time to come in and chat, but did you get the stuff I left for you?”
“Yes, and thank you, Garcia, I will love you forever,” Spencer replied.
“Hotch called me last night and told me to pick them up for you. Hey, how is it down there? Do you want me to organise a jail break and smuggle you up to my office before Strauss gets in?”
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to risk running into Strauss again,” Spencer said. A hungover Strauss might be even worse than a drunk Strauss. “It’s actually not too bad here, and it’ll be a lot better now that I can work on my paper, so thanks again.”
“You’re very welcome, Junior Genius. Have fun!”
“You, too. Bye!”
Spencer changed into clean clothes, then went out to the playroom again. Jill was putting a plate on the round table for him, and when he sat down, she took off the cover. There were scrambled eggs on top of a waffle, with a strip of bacon on the side, and Jill gave him a little container of syrup to open along with a carton of milk. When he’d finished eating, Jill remarked, “So, Molly said you had a nightmare last night.”
“Yeah,” Spencer remembered.
“It sounded pretty intense, from what she said.”
“Yes,” Spencer agreed. “I had a very bad day yesterday and my subconscious was sorting it all out, but now that I’ve got my paper to work on, to-day should be much better.”
Kristy smiled. “Jonas bit me once, too, but ice cream helped me feel better.”
Spencer thought that a beaver bite was the least of his worries, but he didn’t say that. Then the doorbell rang, and Jill got up to let Jonas and his mother come in.
“His father will be released from the hospital on Monday, so I’ll take that day off to get things settled. And to-morrow’s the weekend, so let’s hope this will be his last day here for a while,” the mother remarked, then turned to her son. “Beaver-Mommy has to go to work now, so Jonas-Beaver can have lots of fun here in Yearlingcare, okay?”
“Beaver lodge,” Jonas announced, pointing to the pile of cushions.
“Hey, Jonas, have you had breakfast already?” Jill asked.
Jonas didn’t answer, but his mother sighed and said, “No, we didn’t have time for him to eat at home.”
“No problem, we’ve got plenty of good Yearling food right here,” Kristy said, standing up. “I’ll get you something, Jonas.”
“Okay, now remember, don’t bite anybody, and I’ll see you this afternoon.” Then the mother gave Jonas a hug. “Goodbye, I love you, Jonas-Beaver!”
Jonas wriggled out of her embrace, then leaned down and smacked his hand on the floor. “Goodbye, Beaver-Mommy!” Then, with scarcely a pause, he walked over to the mat and lay down on his back. “Beaver lodge!”
“Yearling food first,” Jill said, going to retrieve him. “Then beaver lodge!”
There was still plenty of room on the other side of the table even while Jonas was eating, so Spencer asked, “Can I work on my paper out here?”
“Sure, why not?” Kristy said. Spencer got the research-related papers from the bedroom and spread them out on the table where he’d been sitting before, then started work. He was interrupted by the arrival of a new girl about two years old, who sat down directly opposite him to eat her breakfast, and spent the entire meal staring at him. Then, just when he was gettng into the flow of things again, it was time to go outside. Spencer gathered his things into a neat pile, then went to get his coat and boots. He was the first one out, and then Jonas ran past him, wearing shoes but no coat, and yelling, “Beaver dam, beaver dam!”
Jill raced after him with his coat, and just as Spencer was getting on the swing, he heard her ask, “Where did you get that paper, Jonas?”
With a sinking feeling, Spencer abandoned the swing and ran over to where Jonas was crouched down near the climbing frame. There was a puddle of water in a depression at the foot of the ladder, and in the puddle were all his papers, with Jonah pushing them down to soak them evenly.
“My paper!” Spencer exclaimed, plucking the pages out of the puddle. “My research!”
“My beaver dam!” Jonas yelled, trying to pull the papers out of Spencer’s hands. Spencer tightened his grip, and Jonas lowered his head and bit savagely into the knuckle at the base of Spencer’s thumb. Spencer screamed and reacted instinctively, letting go of his papers, kicking Jonas hard in the shin, then slapping him in the face with his free hand. As his head snapped away, Jonas took a piece of skin with him, and Spencer shrieked in pain. He gave Jonas an extra push, and Jonas fell onto his behind, screeching as well.
Crying, blood dripping from his hand, Spencer bent down to gather up his papers. Kristy was there as well, helping Jonas up.
“Jonas, Spencer, come inside,” she said, keeping a firm grip on Jonas’s wrist. Spencer led the way indoors, and while Kristy took Jonas to the time-out chair, Spencer went into the bedroom and dumped the dripping pile of paper on his bed. Still sobbing, he ripped off his coat, noticing how blood flew whenever he moved his hand, just like blood splatters at a crime scene – a crime scene that he currently was not investigating. The association with his lack of work made his heart hurt along with the physical pain and anger, and he laid down on the bed, wrapping Boney around his hand and crying even more.
Eventually, Kristy came in. “Spencer?”
Still sobbing, Spencer pulled his hand out of the bundle of sweatshirt and held it out. “He almost bit my thumb off!”
“Oh, honey, why didn’t you tell us you were hurt instead of hiding in here?” Kristy took a closer look. “Your thumb is still there. I’ll get the first aid kit.”
She came back a few moments later and sat down next to him. “Let’s get it cleaned up first, all right?”
She sprayed some disinfectant on a gauze pad and wiped it gently over the wound.
“Yowww!” Spencer wailed. “That stings!”
“All done. There was a lot of blood, but it doesn’t look too deep. Can you still move everything properly?” When Spencer demonstrated, she went on, “Then it should heal just fine. Now we’ll put some salve and a bandage on it.”
By the time Kristy had finished wrapping it up, Spencer’s sobs were slowing down, but his hand was still throbbing, and he whined, “I want some ibuprofen!”
“Do you want to come with me while I get you some? Some ice might help, too.”
“Ice cream?” Spencer asked. The hope was enough to get him to stop crying.
“We don’t have any here.”
“But you said ice cream helped you feel better after Jonas bit you,” Spencer reminded her, feeling the next wave of tears come.
“Oh, honey, I meant that I had some ice cream after I went home,” Kristy said.
The disappointment was too much, and Spencer started to sob again. “I want to go home again, but I don’t know when I’ll be able to! I have to wait for Hotch to finish the case, and it usually takes days, and he’s only been gone twenty four hours! One time we had a case that took over a week! I could be here until Christmas!”
Kristy gave him a quick hug. “Come on, honey, let’s go get you that ibuprofen.”
“Is Jonas still out there?”
“He’s in his beaver lodge. I don’t think he’ll come out for a while.” Kristy took Spencer by the hand and led him through the playroom to a door on the other side that led to a small pantry kitchen.
“Is he autistic?” Spencer asked, his voice hitching only a little.
“As far as I know, his parents are on the waiting list to get an appointment to have him diagnosed. You know how long these things can take.” Kristy used her badge to open the lock on a cabinet above the workspace, then took out a bottle of children’s ibuprofen and measured out a dose for him.
“Have a drink of water, too,” she urged, pouring some into a cup. Spencer drank it all and then sighed miserably.
The two-year-old girl had wandered over in the meantime and was staring at Spencer again. When she saw him put his cup down, she reached out one hand. “Dwink! Dwink!”
Kristy got her a drink, too, then shooed them both out of the kitchen. The girl tugged at Spencer’s arm, surprising him, then asked, “Play?”
Spencer hesitated for a moment, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. “Sure. Let’s go play.”
He played with blocks with her for a while, which really just meant that the girl knocked everything down that Spencer built. When she wandered off to find a doll, however, Spencer escaped and went back to the bedroom. His pile of paper was making a wet spot on the bed, and although he thought of picking the pages apart and setting them out to dry individually, it just didn’t seem worth the effort. Sadly, he picked them up and carried them out, heading for the kitchen.
“Spencer, what do you need?” Jill asked.
“I just wanted to throw this away,” he explained. “And I left it on my bed, and now the bed is wet, too.”
“Well, we can change the bed, but I’m sorry about your paper.”
“I can write it again,” he said. “It will just take time.”
And time, he thought, was one thing he currently had too much of.
Part 22
Part 20
Return to Criminal Minds page