Second Childhood
Part 23
The next day, Hotch and Spencer had to leave the BAU early to get to Jack’s Christmas concert on time. Sitting in the auditorium, Spencer remembered when he’d been forced to participate in a similar concert with the children his own age, even though he’d already been doing fifth-grade work by then. Neither of his parents had come; his dad had been too busy and his mom had been too anxious to leave the house that day. Spencer hadn’t minded, especially not when his group had exited the stage and the boy behind him had given him a push that made him stumble. Then he thought about Ally’s brother Gabriel and his three children, and felt sad that Gabriel would probably never see any of them perform in anything.
Jack was grinning nervously when he came on with his class, but sang without hesitation or overdoing it. Spencer was surprised to see that Paul got a small solo part in one of the songs, and even more surprised to hear his perfect boy soprano voice. He was very good, and he knew it, too, smiling and taking a small bow when the conductor’s gaze was elsewhere.
After the concert, Hotch found Jack and gave him a hug of congratulations. “That was great, buddy.”
“I was a little bit scared with all those people looking at me,” Jack admitted. “But then I saw you, Dad, and it was okay.”
Hotch hugged him again, not saying anything.
“You sang very nicely,” Spencer said after Hotch had let Jack go.
“Thanks.”
Paul came up and gave Jack a small, friendly punch in the arm. “See, Jack, nothing to worry about! It went great!”
“Yeah!” Jack said, filled with confidence after the fact, and returned the friendly punch.
“Hey, you know that birthday party invitation I gave you to-day?”
“Yeah!” Jack said, then turned to his dad. “It’s Paul’s birthday right after Christmas—“
“On the twenty seventh,” Paul put in.
“--and he’s invited me to his party! We have to get him a cool present and not something that he just got for Christmas, either!”
“We can do that, and thank you for the invitation,” Hotch said.
Jack took the prompt. “Yeah, thanks, Paul! It’s gonna be fun!”
“You sang very well, Paul,” Hotch remarked.
Paul straightened up and announced proudly, “I might even get to sing a full solo when my sister has First Communion. I won’t have any problems with it. Some people get stage fright, but I never do.”
He gave Jack another small punch in the arm, and Jack looked faintly hurt for just a moment before he pretended not to notice, and punched back.
“So anyway, that invitation is just for you, not for him,” Paul said, pointing at Spencer. “Crybabies aren’t invited.”
“Paul?” a woman called out from some feet away, gesturing anxiously at him. “Paul, you need to come here and say thank you!”
“See ya to-morrow, and then at my birthday!” Paul said, and crashed into another kid while trying to get to his mother.
Jack gave Spencer an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry you’re not invited.”
“It’s okay,” Spencer said. “He’s your friend, not mine, and I wouldn’t want to go, anyway.”
“Yeah, but he shouldn’t have called you a crybaby,” Jack said. “You don’t cry all the time.”
Not all the time, Spencer thought, but aloud he said, “I’ll bet Paul cries sometimes, too.”
“He says he doesn’t, not even when he gets hurt.”
“Actually, I think he does, but he won’t admit it because he thinks it will make him seem weak,” Hotch said, which made Jack stop and think.
Spencer didn’t want to talk about Paul anymore, and changed the subject. “Hotch, can we get some supper now? I’m starving.”
“Ooh, yeah, can we go out to Kentucky Fried Chicken and get some Extra Crispy and Coke and coleslaw?” Jack suggested.
“Coca-coleslaw?” Hotch asked, and Jack giggled. “I didn’t say that!”
“Nice try, Jack, but no Coke,” Hotch said sternly, but with twinkling eyes. “We’ve got water and milk and juice at home. Does chicken sound good to you, Spencer?”
“And the mashed potatoes and gravy? Yeah,” Spencer answered.
“Can I hold the chicken bucket on the way home?” Jack wheedled as they walked out of the auditorium.
“I don’t know, buddy,” Hotch said. “The last time you held the bucket, you ate all the extra-crispy topping before we even got home and left me with nothing but the meat.”
Spencer laughed, and Jack squirmed guiltily, but pleaded, “I promise I won’t this time. Spencer can watch me and make sure!”
“I think I can trust you, even without Spencer.” Hotch reached out and ruffled Jack’s hair, making Jack smile, then took his hand, and reached out his other one for Spencer. They walked to the car together.
+++++
23 December 2011
The next morning, Spencer woke up to a female voice singing, “Oh, everybody’s got a Sword-Swinging Cat, yours is skinny, mine is fat, what’s he doing with that hat, oh, everybody’s got a Sword-Swinging Ca-aaaaat!”
She ended it with a long, drawn-out note and Jack giggled from the top bunk. “Aunt Jessica, you are so funny!”
Jessica? Spencer scrambled out of bed and looked up at her. “Where’s Hotch?”
The laughter had disappeared from Jack’s voice as he asked, “Did Dad have to go on a case in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, he did,” Jessica said, not singing any longer. “I’m sorry, but yeah. He got a call and had to go.”
“Right before Christmas?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so, Jack. He said to tell you that the Unsubs don’t always take a break at Christmas, and this is one of those times.”
“Yeah. Because they don’t have happy families and good memories,” Jack said. He sounded sad, but resigned. “And Dad’s the best one at catching them.”
“Did Hotch say anything about me?” Spencer asked. Had Hotch told her about the de-aging machine?
“He asked if I could watch you, too,” Jessica said. “He said you’re very well-behaved and won’t give me any trouble.”
So Hotch had gone off with the barest minimum of explanation. Even though he knew in his head that he couldn’t go out in the field because they hadn’t found a supervisor yet, Spencer’s heart still felt sad at being left behind.
“All right, now that you’re both up, get dressed and let’s have some breakfast.”
Hotch often took the time to cook breakfast, but with Jessica, the menu was faster and easier. She put frozen waffles in the toaster, and when they popped up, she slathered them quickly with butter and strawberry jam, laid a slice of cheese on top, and served them with half a banana each. Spencer regarded his waffle dubiously. He’d never eaten cheese with jam before, and wondered how she’d come up with such weird combination. Jack had no hesitations, however, and after a moment of watching him eat without spitting it out in disgust, Spencer also took a bite. It was surprisingly good.
“All right, got everything ready for school? Then let’s go,” Jessica urged, even though Spencer could see that Jack would be earlier than usual. It was the 23rd, so she must be under pressure to get her project done for work. No wonder Hotch had had to reassure her that Spencer wouldn’t be any trouble. Spencer followed obediently as they went out the door, and didn’t even protest when she took his hand to lead him to the car, even though she let Jack walk on his own.
After they’d dropped Jack off at school and had gone home again, Jessica crouched down a little so she could look Spencer in the eye, and said, “Uncle Aaron tells me you’re very intelligent and you like to read. Now, I have to finish a project on the computer for work to-day, and it’s really important, so I’d like it if you could go read quietly somewhere and not bother me until lunchtime, okay?”
“Okay,” said Spencer. He went into his bedroom and settled himself at Jack’s desk. Although he’d started re-writing his paper after the beaver dam disaster, he hadn’t finished it yet, so he worked steadily through the morning until his phone beeped. Thinking for one excited moment that it was Hotch, he hastily pulled it out, then slumped when he saw it was only the alarm, telling him to take a break.
Thinking that he actually did need to get the wiggles out, Spencer stood up and walked from the door to the window and back again, but that was boring. He couldn’t jump on either of the bunk beds because there wasn’t enough headroom, but then he realised he could jump off of them. Quickly, he pulled his blankets from the lower bunk and folded them in half on the floor, then added his pillow and Jack’s to create a makeshift mat. Then he climbed up the ladder, crouched on the guard rail, and leaped down. Encouraged by his perfect landing, he jumped again and again.
He was just climbing happily up the ladder for the fifth time when the door burst open and Jessica shrieked, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!”
Spencer froze. In his excitement, he’d forgotten all about her and her project. “I – I’m sorry! I was just –“
“You said you’d read quietly! Aaron said you wouldn’t give me any trouble! And now you’re making more noise than a two-ton kangaroo and I can’t concentrate!”
“I’m sorry!” Spencer said again, suddenly frightened that she would come in and slap him, or worse. He felt suddenly as vulnerable as when Wagoner had been approaching with the riding crop. In an attempt to placate her, he said, “I forgot! I won’t do it again.”
Jessica just stood there, glaring, and Spencer thought he might have to force himself to move, get himself out of the paralysis of fear, but instead, his body leaped into action on its own, fueled no doubt by panic. He slid down the ladder and reached frantically to gather up the pillows, watching her the entire time in case she made any movement towards him. “I’m putting them away now, I won’t jump anymore, I won’t make any more noise.”
Taking a deep breath from between gritted teeth, Jessica said, “Just be quiet from now on, okay?”
“I’ll be quiet,” Spencer promised, and Jessica went out, closing the door behind her. As quietly as he could, Spencer put the pillows and blankets back where they belonged, then sat down at the desk again. His heart was racing and it took a few minutes before he felt calm enough to continue, but then he got back to work and was eventually surprised by the next alarm on his phone.
Lunchtime. He was hungry, but he didn’t want to disturb Jessica again. Easing the bedroom door open, he tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen for a glass of juice. As he drank it, he looked around for a quick, easy, and quiet snack, then saw that Jessica had come in.
“I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” he said quickly. “I can – I can go back to my room.”
“You’re fine, you didn’t disturb me. And I’m sorry I shouted at you. I was in the middle of a very difficult problem, but I’ve solved it now. Do you want some pizza? I can order some.”
“I like pizza,” Spencer said warily.
“Anything you don’t want on it?”
“No anchovies or tuna fish or any other kind of seafood,” Spencer said.
“Yeah, I don’t like seafood, either. I usually get Pizza Hawaii, will you eat that?”
“Yes, that’s good. I’ll just – uh – wait in my room until it’s here.” Spencer put his empty glass in the sink and escaped into the hall. His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket, but waited until he’d closed the bedroom door behind him before answering.
“Hi, Hotch!”
“Spencer, hi. How are you getting along with Jessica?”
“Fine,” he said. Mostly.
“I didn’t have time to tell her the whole de-aging story, but I’ll back you up if you’ve told her.”
“No, I haven’t said anything. I didn’t want to distract her.”
“Yeah, all this came at the worst possible time for her. Listen, buddy, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you myself that I was leaving, but the call came close to midnight and you were asleep. I didn’t want to take you to emergency childcare, either, because of your nightmares there.”
“Thanks, Hotch,” Spencer said. “I’m actually making good progress on my research paper, and, um, I’m trying to be quiet so Jessica can work, too, so it’s okay.”
“Good. Look, we’ve got a high-profile kidnapping here, all the children of a senator in Massachussetts, and the death of their nanny. I hope we can solve it soon so everybody can get home for Christmas, but you know how these things go.”
“I know,” Spencer said, not caring about Christmas, but wishing that he could be on the case instead. “I wish I could help.”
“I wish you could, too. I’ve got to go, but I’ll call again this evening and say good-night to you and Jack, okay?”
“Okay. Good luck,” Spencer said.
Spencer and Jessica ate their lunch together at the table, but neither of them spoke. Spencer could tell Jessica would rather be eating in front of her computer and was only being polite because of him. Her mind was distinctly elsewhere. When he’d finished eating, Spencer went back to working on his paper, and when his phone chimed for his afternoon break, he quietly took out a box of Jack’s Legos and spent half an hour building. It wasn’t the action that his body craved, but it would have to do. He was clearing away the unused Legos when he heard an indistinct shout from Hotch’s office.
Worried that something terrible had happened, Spencer ventured out into the hall and carefully approched the open door. He didn’t want Jessica to take it out on him if it turned out she’d lost all her data or had some other horrible computer-related disaster. But when he peeked in, he saw that she was stretching one hand triumphantly to the ceiling and quietly chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!” to herself.
Then she caught sight of him and grinned. “Spencer! I’ve just finished, and it’s perfect! You can make noise now – you can make all the noise you want!”
“Congratulations,” Spencer said.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea. I’m really sorry that I shouted at you, so how about I make it up to you by buying you an ice cream sundae at McDonald’s?”
“You already apologised at lunchtime,” Spencer pointed out.
“Well, this can be part of my apology, too. And a thank you for staying quiet the rest of the time. Also, I really want an ice cream sundae after all this work. We’ll just have time before we pick up Jack, so come on. What kind of topping do you want?” She smiled down at him.
“Strawberry,” Spencer told her, and smiled back.
+++++
The next day was Christmas Eve day, and after breakfast, Jessica announced that they would be making cookies. She already had the dough ready, and set out a selection of cookie cutters before rolling it out. Jack and Spencer took turns sinking the cutters into the dough, while Jessica used a spatula to scoop up each cookie and slide it carefully on the baking tray. She only mangled a few of them.
“That gingerbread man looks like an Unsub got it,” Spencer remarked, reminded of the body in a certain case, and it was only after Jessica shot him a warning glare that he realised what he’d said.
“Unsub cookies!” Jack exclaimed, and Spencer couldn’t help correcting him. “Technically, that would be a victim cookie.”
“Let’s not have that kind of talk, please,” Jessica said. “We are making Christmas cookies here, not working for the BAU.”
But Jack grabbed for the gingerbread man cutter and pressed it into an open section of dough. “I wanna make Unsub cookies and then eat them!”
“That would make you the Unsub,” Spencer pointed out. “You’d be a cannibal.”
“One more word about Unsubs and I will take that cookie cutter away,” Jessica said.
Jack tried to make one more cookie with the cutter, but there wasn’t quite enough room for him to get it completely on the dough.
“Oh, no, this Unsub’s missing an arm and a leg!” Jack crowed. “Aunt Jessica, do we have red frosting? For blood?”
“What did I say about Unsubs?” Jessica asked.
“Maybe a wolf bit his arm and his leg off,” Spencer suggested. Jessica gave him a challenging look and he hastened to add, “The gingerbread man ran away because everybody else was chasing him, but then he met up with a wolf. That’s actually part of the story, you know, except it’s usually written that the wolf eats him with one bite.”
“Run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man,” Jack chanted.
“Then the gingerbread man asked the wolf to carry him across the river while he sat on the wolf’s nose so he wouldn’t get wet,” Spencer said. “But when they got to the other side, the wolf tossed the gingerbread man up into the air, then opened his mouth and caught him in his teeth.”
Jack ended the story with an enthusiastic “CHOMP!”
Jessica used one hand to grab the cookie cutter away and her other hand to crush the two-limbed gingerbread man back into a ball of dough. She even plucked up the other gingerbread men cookies from the baking tray and recycled them as well.
“Hey!” Jack protested.
“I was only telling the story,” Spencer pointed out, which earned him another glare.
“Spencer, you’re the one who started this, but it ends here. Jack, you can use the Christmas tree shape, and Spencer, you may have the star shape,” Jessica announced firmly. “Nothing else! No Unsub cookies, no victim cookies, and no talking about biting off arms and legs! Is that clear?”
“Yeah,” Jack mumbled.
“Yes,” Spencer said. “Sorry.”
She went into the kitchen and put the gingerbread man cutter on top of the fridge, but when she came back to roll out the dough scraps, the telephone rang. Frowning, she went to answer it. “Oh, hi, Aaron! No, everything’s good, we’re making cookies.” Pause. “Sure. Jack, your dad wants to talk to you.”
Jack ran over to the phone “Dad! Guess what! It was so cool! We were making Unsub cookies! Spencer started it!” He paused and listened, then laughed. “No, really, they were only gingerbread man cookies.” Pause. “But then Aunt Jessica got mad and now we can only make tree cookies and star cookies.” He listened again. “Yes, Dad, I’ll be good. No more Unsubs. Does that mean we can’t use red frosting, either? In case Aunt Jessica thinks it’s blood?” Pause. “Okay, I’ll save some for you! Love you, Dad!”
Then, suddenly, he said, “Hey, Spencer, Dad wants to talk to you.”
Spencer took the phone. “Hi, Hotch. How’s the case going?”
“Spencer, listen, I want to send you a picture of some numbers and see what you can make of them,” Hotch said, “We think the kidnapper had an accomplice in the household and they were communicating in code. Can you have a look when you’ve finished with your cookies?”
“Oh, yeah, Hotch, thanks!” Spencer exclaimed when he felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. He loved numbers, and was especially pleased that Hotch was including him in the case, even in such a small way.
“Call me back when you have something,” Hotch said. “And save some cookies for me. No Unsubs, though.”
“Jessica mashed them all, but I’ll save you some stars. Bye, Hotch.”
They cut out cookies until there was only enough dough left for a tiny misshapen snowball. Jessica had been baking the first sheets in the meantime, and when she’d put the last one in the oven, she said, “How about I put on a show for you boys to watch while the cookies cool down and I have a chance to make some frosting?”
“The Sword-Swinging Cats Christmas Special!” Jack suggested eagerly.
“Didn’t you just watch that last night?” Jessica asked.
“Yeah, but we can watch it again!”
Giving a mock groan, Jessica turned on the TV. Spencer sat down in the living room, but ignored the Cat celebration and pulled his phone out instead. The pictures that Hotch had sent him showed sets of ten numbers each, put together like paragraphs on a page. He glanced through, looking for similarities and repetitions, and saw a set that he recognised instantly. The first ten digits of pi, without the three and the point in front of them. From there, it was simple to identify the remaining sets as other, various ten-number sequences in pi. Could it really be such a simple substitution code? He went to the bedroom, got out some paper, and started to test his theory.
After a few minutes, he became vaguely aware of Jack saying something, and then Jessica speaking as well, but nothing registered until the paper and phone were suddenly whisked out of his sight. He looked up indignantly.
“Spencer, we are frosting cookies now, not playing games on our phones,” she said.
“I never play games on my phone.” Spencer made a grab to get it back, but Jessica lifted it out of reach. “Please! I’m cracking a code, and I almost have it!”
Jessica carried the paper and phone away, and Spencer followed her into the kitchen, where she put them on top of the fridge next to the gingerbread man cutter. “Jessica, please, just a few more minutes!”
“Nope,” she said. “It’s cookie time. Now look, I’ve got four different colours of frosting and all kinds of sprinkles and fun decorations. You can be as creative as you want with your cookies.”
“Come on, Spencer, it’s fun!” Jack called to him from the table, already spreading green frosting over a tree-shaped cookie. Next to him were other bowls of frosting, none of them red.
But Spencer couldn’t worry about cookies when there were more important things to be done. He shot a desperate glance to the top of the fridge, only to have Jessica cajole, “Do I have to get a candy cane from the Christmas tree and beat some Christmas spirit into you?”
Jack laughed at the idea. “I can help! Let’s get two candy canes!”
Spencer didn’t even smile; the idea was too close to what Wagoner had done. Realizing that the faster he got his cookies finished, the faster he could get back to the code, he sat down and picked up a star. He even managed a few genuine smiles when Jessica started taking pictures. Finally, all the cookies were frosted and decorated.
“May I please have my phone and my paper back now?” Spencer asked.
Jessica sighed. “Oh, all right, if it’s so important to you. But we’ll be having lunch soon.”
She returned the confiscated items, and Spencer ran eagerly back into the bedroom to work some more. He almost had it – and yes! He wrote down the solution, sent a picture of it to Hotch, then called up.
“Hotch, sorry it took so long, Jessica took my phone away. Anyway, it was a subsitution code based on the digits of pi, but starting after the decimal point,” he explained. “Each ten digit sequence represented a letter of the alphabet, but they started with Z and went backwards –“
“I got it, thank you, Spencer. This helps us a lot. I have to go now.” Hotch hung up abruptly, and Spencer just hoped he’d been fast enough to crack it before anyone got killed. It was annoying to have been granted one tiny glimpse of the case, but to be kept out of the loop concerning everything else. Sighing, he stuffed his phone into his pocket and went back into the kitchen.
“All finished with your game?” Jessica asked, washing up at the sink.
“It was a code, not a game, and, yes, I’m finished. Would you like some help?”
Jessica let him dry a few non-breakable things, then shooed him out of the kitchen. “I’m going to start lunch now, you go play with Jack.”
Spencer found Jack standing at the living room window, looking hopefully outside. “Do you think Santa’s on his way already?”
“No,” Spencer said honestly
“I wish Dad were here. Maybe he’s on his way already. Maybe he’ll get home before Santa comes.”
For one quick moment, Spencer thought of Gabriel’s children, standing at a window, watching and waiting for their father who would never come home, but he couldn’t do anything about it, nor could he influence when Hotch would return, either. Instead, he forced himself to think about what they could do to pass the time. “Want to play a game I know?”
“What kind of game?”
“It’s called Run Past Ally Alligator.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
“I’ll show you.” Spencer got two dishtowels from the kitchen and explained how it went. Jack soon brought in his own ideas, and set out a course from the front door, past Spencer Alligator on the floor between the living area and the dining area, around the table, over two chairs pushed together to form a bridge, back past Spencer on the other side, and to the door again. He also held the towels high above his head so that Spencer would have had to stand up to get them. Then, when it was Spencer’s turn to run past Jack Alligator, Jack pretended to “bite” his leg with his outstretched hands.
The game ended when Jack, trying to avoid Spencer’s clapping arms, ran straight into Jessica as she was carrying a pot from the stove to the table.
“Whoa, whoa, let’s calm down now, or we’ll be cleaning macaroni and cheese off the carpet,” she said, settling the pot safely down. “What are you playing?”
“Run Past Ally Alligator,” Jack explained. “It was Spencer’s idea! It’s really fun!”
Jessica gave Spencer the same look she’d given him after the Unsub cookie incident, the one that indicated she was starting to consider him a bad influence on Jack. Then she looked fondly back at her nephew and said, “Okay, put the chairs back where they belong, then go wash your hands so we can eat. And maybe we can play something quieter after lunch.”
That night, Spencer dreamed he was standing in front of two gravestones, one for his mother and one for Hotch. In the dream, Hotch had married his mother, who had been miraculously cured of her schizophrenia by Dr Sakenfeld, who’d invented a brain-restoral machine just for her, and they’d all been one happy family, but then Foyet had come along and stabbed both Hotch and his mother. Spencer awoke sobbing unhappily, and it was quite some time before he remembered that Hotch was alive and well and on a case, and his mother was alive, if not quite so well, but at least safe in Las Vegas.
The house was so silent that Spencer could hear Jack breathing in the upper bunk, and he presumed that Jessica was also asleep, across the hall in Hotch’s bed. At least he hadn’t woken her up. She might have tried to hug him, but he didn’t want her hugs, he wanted Hotch’s. And his mom’s. In their absence, however, all Spencer had left was Boney, so he smoothed the pullover out and traced the glowing bones before clutching the whole thing to his chest.
With thanks and apologies to The Water Buffalo Song in Veggie Tales
Part 24
Part 22
Return to Criminal Minds page
Jack was grinning nervously when he came on with his class, but sang without hesitation or overdoing it. Spencer was surprised to see that Paul got a small solo part in one of the songs, and even more surprised to hear his perfect boy soprano voice. He was very good, and he knew it, too, smiling and taking a small bow when the conductor’s gaze was elsewhere.
After the concert, Hotch found Jack and gave him a hug of congratulations. “That was great, buddy.”
“I was a little bit scared with all those people looking at me,” Jack admitted. “But then I saw you, Dad, and it was okay.”
Hotch hugged him again, not saying anything.
“You sang very nicely,” Spencer said after Hotch had let Jack go.
“Thanks.”
Paul came up and gave Jack a small, friendly punch in the arm. “See, Jack, nothing to worry about! It went great!”
“Yeah!” Jack said, filled with confidence after the fact, and returned the friendly punch.
“Hey, you know that birthday party invitation I gave you to-day?”
“Yeah!” Jack said, then turned to his dad. “It’s Paul’s birthday right after Christmas—“
“On the twenty seventh,” Paul put in.
“--and he’s invited me to his party! We have to get him a cool present and not something that he just got for Christmas, either!”
“We can do that, and thank you for the invitation,” Hotch said.
Jack took the prompt. “Yeah, thanks, Paul! It’s gonna be fun!”
“You sang very well, Paul,” Hotch remarked.
Paul straightened up and announced proudly, “I might even get to sing a full solo when my sister has First Communion. I won’t have any problems with it. Some people get stage fright, but I never do.”
He gave Jack another small punch in the arm, and Jack looked faintly hurt for just a moment before he pretended not to notice, and punched back.
“So anyway, that invitation is just for you, not for him,” Paul said, pointing at Spencer. “Crybabies aren’t invited.”
“Paul?” a woman called out from some feet away, gesturing anxiously at him. “Paul, you need to come here and say thank you!”
“See ya to-morrow, and then at my birthday!” Paul said, and crashed into another kid while trying to get to his mother.
Jack gave Spencer an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry you’re not invited.”
“It’s okay,” Spencer said. “He’s your friend, not mine, and I wouldn’t want to go, anyway.”
“Yeah, but he shouldn’t have called you a crybaby,” Jack said. “You don’t cry all the time.”
Not all the time, Spencer thought, but aloud he said, “I’ll bet Paul cries sometimes, too.”
“He says he doesn’t, not even when he gets hurt.”
“Actually, I think he does, but he won’t admit it because he thinks it will make him seem weak,” Hotch said, which made Jack stop and think.
Spencer didn’t want to talk about Paul anymore, and changed the subject. “Hotch, can we get some supper now? I’m starving.”
“Ooh, yeah, can we go out to Kentucky Fried Chicken and get some Extra Crispy and Coke and coleslaw?” Jack suggested.
“Coca-coleslaw?” Hotch asked, and Jack giggled. “I didn’t say that!”
“Nice try, Jack, but no Coke,” Hotch said sternly, but with twinkling eyes. “We’ve got water and milk and juice at home. Does chicken sound good to you, Spencer?”
“And the mashed potatoes and gravy? Yeah,” Spencer answered.
“Can I hold the chicken bucket on the way home?” Jack wheedled as they walked out of the auditorium.
“I don’t know, buddy,” Hotch said. “The last time you held the bucket, you ate all the extra-crispy topping before we even got home and left me with nothing but the meat.”
Spencer laughed, and Jack squirmed guiltily, but pleaded, “I promise I won’t this time. Spencer can watch me and make sure!”
“I think I can trust you, even without Spencer.” Hotch reached out and ruffled Jack’s hair, making Jack smile, then took his hand, and reached out his other one for Spencer. They walked to the car together.
+++++
23 December 2011
The next morning, Spencer woke up to a female voice singing, “Oh, everybody’s got a Sword-Swinging Cat, yours is skinny, mine is fat, what’s he doing with that hat, oh, everybody’s got a Sword-Swinging Ca-aaaaat!”
She ended it with a long, drawn-out note and Jack giggled from the top bunk. “Aunt Jessica, you are so funny!”
Jessica? Spencer scrambled out of bed and looked up at her. “Where’s Hotch?”
The laughter had disappeared from Jack’s voice as he asked, “Did Dad have to go on a case in the middle of the night?”
“Yes, he did,” Jessica said, not singing any longer. “I’m sorry, but yeah. He got a call and had to go.”
“Right before Christmas?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid so, Jack. He said to tell you that the Unsubs don’t always take a break at Christmas, and this is one of those times.”
“Yeah. Because they don’t have happy families and good memories,” Jack said. He sounded sad, but resigned. “And Dad’s the best one at catching them.”
“Did Hotch say anything about me?” Spencer asked. Had Hotch told her about the de-aging machine?
“He asked if I could watch you, too,” Jessica said. “He said you’re very well-behaved and won’t give me any trouble.”
So Hotch had gone off with the barest minimum of explanation. Even though he knew in his head that he couldn’t go out in the field because they hadn’t found a supervisor yet, Spencer’s heart still felt sad at being left behind.
“All right, now that you’re both up, get dressed and let’s have some breakfast.”
Hotch often took the time to cook breakfast, but with Jessica, the menu was faster and easier. She put frozen waffles in the toaster, and when they popped up, she slathered them quickly with butter and strawberry jam, laid a slice of cheese on top, and served them with half a banana each. Spencer regarded his waffle dubiously. He’d never eaten cheese with jam before, and wondered how she’d come up with such weird combination. Jack had no hesitations, however, and after a moment of watching him eat without spitting it out in disgust, Spencer also took a bite. It was surprisingly good.
“All right, got everything ready for school? Then let’s go,” Jessica urged, even though Spencer could see that Jack would be earlier than usual. It was the 23rd, so she must be under pressure to get her project done for work. No wonder Hotch had had to reassure her that Spencer wouldn’t be any trouble. Spencer followed obediently as they went out the door, and didn’t even protest when she took his hand to lead him to the car, even though she let Jack walk on his own.
After they’d dropped Jack off at school and had gone home again, Jessica crouched down a little so she could look Spencer in the eye, and said, “Uncle Aaron tells me you’re very intelligent and you like to read. Now, I have to finish a project on the computer for work to-day, and it’s really important, so I’d like it if you could go read quietly somewhere and not bother me until lunchtime, okay?”
“Okay,” said Spencer. He went into his bedroom and settled himself at Jack’s desk. Although he’d started re-writing his paper after the beaver dam disaster, he hadn’t finished it yet, so he worked steadily through the morning until his phone beeped. Thinking for one excited moment that it was Hotch, he hastily pulled it out, then slumped when he saw it was only the alarm, telling him to take a break.
Thinking that he actually did need to get the wiggles out, Spencer stood up and walked from the door to the window and back again, but that was boring. He couldn’t jump on either of the bunk beds because there wasn’t enough headroom, but then he realised he could jump off of them. Quickly, he pulled his blankets from the lower bunk and folded them in half on the floor, then added his pillow and Jack’s to create a makeshift mat. Then he climbed up the ladder, crouched on the guard rail, and leaped down. Encouraged by his perfect landing, he jumped again and again.
He was just climbing happily up the ladder for the fifth time when the door burst open and Jessica shrieked, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!”
Spencer froze. In his excitement, he’d forgotten all about her and her project. “I – I’m sorry! I was just –“
“You said you’d read quietly! Aaron said you wouldn’t give me any trouble! And now you’re making more noise than a two-ton kangaroo and I can’t concentrate!”
“I’m sorry!” Spencer said again, suddenly frightened that she would come in and slap him, or worse. He felt suddenly as vulnerable as when Wagoner had been approaching with the riding crop. In an attempt to placate her, he said, “I forgot! I won’t do it again.”
Jessica just stood there, glaring, and Spencer thought he might have to force himself to move, get himself out of the paralysis of fear, but instead, his body leaped into action on its own, fueled no doubt by panic. He slid down the ladder and reached frantically to gather up the pillows, watching her the entire time in case she made any movement towards him. “I’m putting them away now, I won’t jump anymore, I won’t make any more noise.”
Taking a deep breath from between gritted teeth, Jessica said, “Just be quiet from now on, okay?”
“I’ll be quiet,” Spencer promised, and Jessica went out, closing the door behind her. As quietly as he could, Spencer put the pillows and blankets back where they belonged, then sat down at the desk again. His heart was racing and it took a few minutes before he felt calm enough to continue, but then he got back to work and was eventually surprised by the next alarm on his phone.
Lunchtime. He was hungry, but he didn’t want to disturb Jessica again. Easing the bedroom door open, he tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen for a glass of juice. As he drank it, he looked around for a quick, easy, and quiet snack, then saw that Jessica had come in.
“I’m sorry if I disturbed you,” he said quickly. “I can – I can go back to my room.”
“You’re fine, you didn’t disturb me. And I’m sorry I shouted at you. I was in the middle of a very difficult problem, but I’ve solved it now. Do you want some pizza? I can order some.”
“I like pizza,” Spencer said warily.
“Anything you don’t want on it?”
“No anchovies or tuna fish or any other kind of seafood,” Spencer said.
“Yeah, I don’t like seafood, either. I usually get Pizza Hawaii, will you eat that?”
“Yes, that’s good. I’ll just – uh – wait in my room until it’s here.” Spencer put his empty glass in the sink and escaped into the hall. His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket, but waited until he’d closed the bedroom door behind him before answering.
“Hi, Hotch!”
“Spencer, hi. How are you getting along with Jessica?”
“Fine,” he said. Mostly.
“I didn’t have time to tell her the whole de-aging story, but I’ll back you up if you’ve told her.”
“No, I haven’t said anything. I didn’t want to distract her.”
“Yeah, all this came at the worst possible time for her. Listen, buddy, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you myself that I was leaving, but the call came close to midnight and you were asleep. I didn’t want to take you to emergency childcare, either, because of your nightmares there.”
“Thanks, Hotch,” Spencer said. “I’m actually making good progress on my research paper, and, um, I’m trying to be quiet so Jessica can work, too, so it’s okay.”
“Good. Look, we’ve got a high-profile kidnapping here, all the children of a senator in Massachussetts, and the death of their nanny. I hope we can solve it soon so everybody can get home for Christmas, but you know how these things go.”
“I know,” Spencer said, not caring about Christmas, but wishing that he could be on the case instead. “I wish I could help.”
“I wish you could, too. I’ve got to go, but I’ll call again this evening and say good-night to you and Jack, okay?”
“Okay. Good luck,” Spencer said.
Spencer and Jessica ate their lunch together at the table, but neither of them spoke. Spencer could tell Jessica would rather be eating in front of her computer and was only being polite because of him. Her mind was distinctly elsewhere. When he’d finished eating, Spencer went back to working on his paper, and when his phone chimed for his afternoon break, he quietly took out a box of Jack’s Legos and spent half an hour building. It wasn’t the action that his body craved, but it would have to do. He was clearing away the unused Legos when he heard an indistinct shout from Hotch’s office.
Worried that something terrible had happened, Spencer ventured out into the hall and carefully approched the open door. He didn’t want Jessica to take it out on him if it turned out she’d lost all her data or had some other horrible computer-related disaster. But when he peeked in, he saw that she was stretching one hand triumphantly to the ceiling and quietly chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!” to herself.
Then she caught sight of him and grinned. “Spencer! I’ve just finished, and it’s perfect! You can make noise now – you can make all the noise you want!”
“Congratulations,” Spencer said.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea. I’m really sorry that I shouted at you, so how about I make it up to you by buying you an ice cream sundae at McDonald’s?”
“You already apologised at lunchtime,” Spencer pointed out.
“Well, this can be part of my apology, too. And a thank you for staying quiet the rest of the time. Also, I really want an ice cream sundae after all this work. We’ll just have time before we pick up Jack, so come on. What kind of topping do you want?” She smiled down at him.
“Strawberry,” Spencer told her, and smiled back.
+++++
The next day was Christmas Eve day, and after breakfast, Jessica announced that they would be making cookies. She already had the dough ready, and set out a selection of cookie cutters before rolling it out. Jack and Spencer took turns sinking the cutters into the dough, while Jessica used a spatula to scoop up each cookie and slide it carefully on the baking tray. She only mangled a few of them.
“That gingerbread man looks like an Unsub got it,” Spencer remarked, reminded of the body in a certain case, and it was only after Jessica shot him a warning glare that he realised what he’d said.
“Unsub cookies!” Jack exclaimed, and Spencer couldn’t help correcting him. “Technically, that would be a victim cookie.”
“Let’s not have that kind of talk, please,” Jessica said. “We are making Christmas cookies here, not working for the BAU.”
But Jack grabbed for the gingerbread man cutter and pressed it into an open section of dough. “I wanna make Unsub cookies and then eat them!”
“That would make you the Unsub,” Spencer pointed out. “You’d be a cannibal.”
“One more word about Unsubs and I will take that cookie cutter away,” Jessica said.
Jack tried to make one more cookie with the cutter, but there wasn’t quite enough room for him to get it completely on the dough.
“Oh, no, this Unsub’s missing an arm and a leg!” Jack crowed. “Aunt Jessica, do we have red frosting? For blood?”
“What did I say about Unsubs?” Jessica asked.
“Maybe a wolf bit his arm and his leg off,” Spencer suggested. Jessica gave him a challenging look and he hastened to add, “The gingerbread man ran away because everybody else was chasing him, but then he met up with a wolf. That’s actually part of the story, you know, except it’s usually written that the wolf eats him with one bite.”
“Run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man,” Jack chanted.
“Then the gingerbread man asked the wolf to carry him across the river while he sat on the wolf’s nose so he wouldn’t get wet,” Spencer said. “But when they got to the other side, the wolf tossed the gingerbread man up into the air, then opened his mouth and caught him in his teeth.”
Jack ended the story with an enthusiastic “CHOMP!”
Jessica used one hand to grab the cookie cutter away and her other hand to crush the two-limbed gingerbread man back into a ball of dough. She even plucked up the other gingerbread men cookies from the baking tray and recycled them as well.
“Hey!” Jack protested.
“I was only telling the story,” Spencer pointed out, which earned him another glare.
“Spencer, you’re the one who started this, but it ends here. Jack, you can use the Christmas tree shape, and Spencer, you may have the star shape,” Jessica announced firmly. “Nothing else! No Unsub cookies, no victim cookies, and no talking about biting off arms and legs! Is that clear?”
“Yeah,” Jack mumbled.
“Yes,” Spencer said. “Sorry.”
She went into the kitchen and put the gingerbread man cutter on top of the fridge, but when she came back to roll out the dough scraps, the telephone rang. Frowning, she went to answer it. “Oh, hi, Aaron! No, everything’s good, we’re making cookies.” Pause. “Sure. Jack, your dad wants to talk to you.”
Jack ran over to the phone “Dad! Guess what! It was so cool! We were making Unsub cookies! Spencer started it!” He paused and listened, then laughed. “No, really, they were only gingerbread man cookies.” Pause. “But then Aunt Jessica got mad and now we can only make tree cookies and star cookies.” He listened again. “Yes, Dad, I’ll be good. No more Unsubs. Does that mean we can’t use red frosting, either? In case Aunt Jessica thinks it’s blood?” Pause. “Okay, I’ll save some for you! Love you, Dad!”
Then, suddenly, he said, “Hey, Spencer, Dad wants to talk to you.”
Spencer took the phone. “Hi, Hotch. How’s the case going?”
“Spencer, listen, I want to send you a picture of some numbers and see what you can make of them,” Hotch said, “We think the kidnapper had an accomplice in the household and they were communicating in code. Can you have a look when you’ve finished with your cookies?”
“Oh, yeah, Hotch, thanks!” Spencer exclaimed when he felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. He loved numbers, and was especially pleased that Hotch was including him in the case, even in such a small way.
“Call me back when you have something,” Hotch said. “And save some cookies for me. No Unsubs, though.”
“Jessica mashed them all, but I’ll save you some stars. Bye, Hotch.”
They cut out cookies until there was only enough dough left for a tiny misshapen snowball. Jessica had been baking the first sheets in the meantime, and when she’d put the last one in the oven, she said, “How about I put on a show for you boys to watch while the cookies cool down and I have a chance to make some frosting?”
“The Sword-Swinging Cats Christmas Special!” Jack suggested eagerly.
“Didn’t you just watch that last night?” Jessica asked.
“Yeah, but we can watch it again!”
Giving a mock groan, Jessica turned on the TV. Spencer sat down in the living room, but ignored the Cat celebration and pulled his phone out instead. The pictures that Hotch had sent him showed sets of ten numbers each, put together like paragraphs on a page. He glanced through, looking for similarities and repetitions, and saw a set that he recognised instantly. The first ten digits of pi, without the three and the point in front of them. From there, it was simple to identify the remaining sets as other, various ten-number sequences in pi. Could it really be such a simple substitution code? He went to the bedroom, got out some paper, and started to test his theory.
After a few minutes, he became vaguely aware of Jack saying something, and then Jessica speaking as well, but nothing registered until the paper and phone were suddenly whisked out of his sight. He looked up indignantly.
“Spencer, we are frosting cookies now, not playing games on our phones,” she said.
“I never play games on my phone.” Spencer made a grab to get it back, but Jessica lifted it out of reach. “Please! I’m cracking a code, and I almost have it!”
Jessica carried the paper and phone away, and Spencer followed her into the kitchen, where she put them on top of the fridge next to the gingerbread man cutter. “Jessica, please, just a few more minutes!”
“Nope,” she said. “It’s cookie time. Now look, I’ve got four different colours of frosting and all kinds of sprinkles and fun decorations. You can be as creative as you want with your cookies.”
“Come on, Spencer, it’s fun!” Jack called to him from the table, already spreading green frosting over a tree-shaped cookie. Next to him were other bowls of frosting, none of them red.
But Spencer couldn’t worry about cookies when there were more important things to be done. He shot a desperate glance to the top of the fridge, only to have Jessica cajole, “Do I have to get a candy cane from the Christmas tree and beat some Christmas spirit into you?”
Jack laughed at the idea. “I can help! Let’s get two candy canes!”
Spencer didn’t even smile; the idea was too close to what Wagoner had done. Realizing that the faster he got his cookies finished, the faster he could get back to the code, he sat down and picked up a star. He even managed a few genuine smiles when Jessica started taking pictures. Finally, all the cookies were frosted and decorated.
“May I please have my phone and my paper back now?” Spencer asked.
Jessica sighed. “Oh, all right, if it’s so important to you. But we’ll be having lunch soon.”
She returned the confiscated items, and Spencer ran eagerly back into the bedroom to work some more. He almost had it – and yes! He wrote down the solution, sent a picture of it to Hotch, then called up.
“Hotch, sorry it took so long, Jessica took my phone away. Anyway, it was a subsitution code based on the digits of pi, but starting after the decimal point,” he explained. “Each ten digit sequence represented a letter of the alphabet, but they started with Z and went backwards –“
“I got it, thank you, Spencer. This helps us a lot. I have to go now.” Hotch hung up abruptly, and Spencer just hoped he’d been fast enough to crack it before anyone got killed. It was annoying to have been granted one tiny glimpse of the case, but to be kept out of the loop concerning everything else. Sighing, he stuffed his phone into his pocket and went back into the kitchen.
“All finished with your game?” Jessica asked, washing up at the sink.
“It was a code, not a game, and, yes, I’m finished. Would you like some help?”
Jessica let him dry a few non-breakable things, then shooed him out of the kitchen. “I’m going to start lunch now, you go play with Jack.”
Spencer found Jack standing at the living room window, looking hopefully outside. “Do you think Santa’s on his way already?”
“No,” Spencer said honestly
“I wish Dad were here. Maybe he’s on his way already. Maybe he’ll get home before Santa comes.”
For one quick moment, Spencer thought of Gabriel’s children, standing at a window, watching and waiting for their father who would never come home, but he couldn’t do anything about it, nor could he influence when Hotch would return, either. Instead, he forced himself to think about what they could do to pass the time. “Want to play a game I know?”
“What kind of game?”
“It’s called Run Past Ally Alligator.”
“I’ve never heard of that.”
“I’ll show you.” Spencer got two dishtowels from the kitchen and explained how it went. Jack soon brought in his own ideas, and set out a course from the front door, past Spencer Alligator on the floor between the living area and the dining area, around the table, over two chairs pushed together to form a bridge, back past Spencer on the other side, and to the door again. He also held the towels high above his head so that Spencer would have had to stand up to get them. Then, when it was Spencer’s turn to run past Jack Alligator, Jack pretended to “bite” his leg with his outstretched hands.
The game ended when Jack, trying to avoid Spencer’s clapping arms, ran straight into Jessica as she was carrying a pot from the stove to the table.
“Whoa, whoa, let’s calm down now, or we’ll be cleaning macaroni and cheese off the carpet,” she said, settling the pot safely down. “What are you playing?”
“Run Past Ally Alligator,” Jack explained. “It was Spencer’s idea! It’s really fun!”
Jessica gave Spencer the same look she’d given him after the Unsub cookie incident, the one that indicated she was starting to consider him a bad influence on Jack. Then she looked fondly back at her nephew and said, “Okay, put the chairs back where they belong, then go wash your hands so we can eat. And maybe we can play something quieter after lunch.”
That night, Spencer dreamed he was standing in front of two gravestones, one for his mother and one for Hotch. In the dream, Hotch had married his mother, who had been miraculously cured of her schizophrenia by Dr Sakenfeld, who’d invented a brain-restoral machine just for her, and they’d all been one happy family, but then Foyet had come along and stabbed both Hotch and his mother. Spencer awoke sobbing unhappily, and it was quite some time before he remembered that Hotch was alive and well and on a case, and his mother was alive, if not quite so well, but at least safe in Las Vegas.
The house was so silent that Spencer could hear Jack breathing in the upper bunk, and he presumed that Jessica was also asleep, across the hall in Hotch’s bed. At least he hadn’t woken her up. She might have tried to hug him, but he didn’t want her hugs, he wanted Hotch’s. And his mom’s. In their absence, however, all Spencer had left was Boney, so he smoothed the pullover out and traced the glowing bones before clutching the whole thing to his chest.
With thanks and apologies to The Water Buffalo Song in Veggie Tales
Part 24
Part 22
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