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Growing Up Again	By : hatochiisai Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 21443 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, nor do I make any financial profit off of writing and posting this work.

Chapter List
- 1-Re-Birth
- 2-Age 1
- 3-Age 2
- 4-Age 3
- 5-Age 4
- 6-Age 5 & 6
- 7-Age 7
- 8-Age 8
- 9-Age 9
- 10-Age 10
- 11-Age 11
- 12-Age 12
- 13-Age 13
- 14-Age 14
- 15-Age 15
- 16-Age 16
- 17-Age 17
- 18-Age 18
- 19-Age 19
- 20-Age 20
- 21-Age 21
- 22-Age 22
- 23-Age 23
- 24-Age 24
- 25-All Grown Up
- 11
- 12
- 13
Twelve Years Old

Hotch and Reid were both woken, for the second day in a row, by the ringing of the phone. Hotch fumbled to answer.
“… Hotchner.”
“Mornin, Aaron.” Rossi greeted.
“… Hi.”
“Can you head to the computer? We could use your input on this case.”
“Yeah.” Hotch said. “Sure.” And he got out of bed, tucking the blankets around Spencer and heading into the office. He booted up the computer and a few minutes later, the team appeared on the screen.
“Wow. Look at scruffy Hotch.” JJ grinned.
“Tell me what you’ve got or I’m leaving.” He snorted, hearing Spencer padding into the kitchen and start puttering about.
“Alright.” Morgan snickered, and they began to go over the case, gave Hotch their preliminary profile, and began to tweak it.
They had been at it for nearly half an hour when Hotch suddenly trailed off mid sentence. The team blinked at his image on the screen. They watched his nostrils flare. His eyes darted to the side and his nostrils flared again, and then once more. This his eyes widened and his head snapped to the side as he sniffed the air furiously.
“… SPENCER?!” He howled, and bolted. The team was left with a view of his chair, spinning from the force of his sudden departure. They looked around at one another and waited patiently. Off in the distance, they could hear Hotch’s voice, and the small voice of the child.
“Well… Spence SOUNDS happy… And Hotch sounds…”
“Confused?” Emily offered.
“Annoyed?” Morgan tossed in.
“Baffled.” Rossi chuckled.
A few minutes later, Hotch reappeared, collapsing into his chair and running a hand over his face with a sigh. There was white powder over his shirt now.
“Hotch?” Emily asked.
“Reid is making me breakfast.” Hotch explained.
“Awwww… that’s so sweet!” Emily cooed.
“What’s on your shirt?” Morgan wanted to know.
“… Pancake batter mix.” Hotch muttered. The team was amused, but they quickly got back to work. At least for another fifteen minutes. Then, Hotch stopped midsentence again, and looked off to the side. He blinked, and then smiled.
“You did all THAT?!” He asked, and then Reid appeared. The girls squealed when they saw him in his thick glasses carrying a plate that was LOADED. On it was scrambled eggs, bacon, hashbrowns and five blueberry pancakes drowning in syrup. “That looks GREAT Spencer! Thank you!” Hotch said enthusiastically. Reid beamed, and Hotch hugged him tightly.
“Oh, I am SO jealous.” Morgan groaned. “All I had was yogurt and a muffin…”
“Ha ha!” Reid sang, stuck his tongue out at Morgan on the screen, and then skipped out of camera range.
“… Did he just taunt me?!” Morgan demanded to know over the laughter of the girls.
“I think he did.” Hotch chuckled. “And now, so am I.” And he dug into his breakfast with relish. Through a moment later, he made a face and picked something out of his mouth. “Uh, eggshell.” He offered in explanation, making the team laugh again. Then, he looked up, blinking. And then Reid appeared, setting a second plate down beside Hotch’s. Then he disappeared. A moment later, two glasses of orange juice were set down, and he rolled his desk chair over and made himself comfortable right next to Hotch.
Hotch blinked down at the child. “… What are you doing?”
“I wanna help.” Reid said, looking up at him.
“… Spencer… No. You’re too young.”
“I am not! I’m twenty five!”
“… You’re TWELVE.” Hotch said, and Morgan felt like he had been punched in the gut. He stared at Reid, suddenly realizing that he was looking at the little boy who had been stripped, beaten and tied to a goal post by a bunch of kids age 16-18. And it infuriated him…
“I’m twenty five.” Reid said simply. “I can help!”
“I’m sure you can, Spencer.” Hotch said gently. “But I don’t feel right exposing you to this kind of stuff.”
“… Want me to describe Jeff Dahmer’s crimes in vivid detail?” Reid challenged. “Or Manson’s? Or Jack the Ripper’s? How about BTK?”
“Spencer.” Hotch said warningly.
“… Jeff Dahmer would—“ Hotch smacked a hand over the child’s mouth. Reid’s eyes widened, then narrowed.
The team watched as Hotch stood, wrapped one arm around Reid’s body and lifted him from the chair, carrying him out of the room, the child shouting into his other hand the entire time. A moment later they heard, “You will eat your breakfast RIGHT here, and when you’re done you can go play video games. But you are NOT to come into the study unless you need me for something.”
“You’re not my dad!!!” Reid exclaimed challengingly.
“No, but I am your BOSS.” Hotch snapped back. “Right now, you’re on medical leave. And you will keep that in mind. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to turn it into a formal suspension, and THAT will go into your file!!!”
“That’s blackmail!!!”
“So sue me.”
“You… You can’t just—“
“I just did.” Hotch said. A moment later, he reappeared, picked up Spencer’s breakfast, and walked away again.
“… I’M NOT HUNGRY!!!”
“That’s fine. Then you can clean up this mess you’ve made in here.”
There was the sudden sound of breaking glass. “YOU clean it up!”
“Alright, that’s it.”
“What? Hey. HEY! LEMME GO!!! DAMMIT!!! PUT ME DOWN, HOTCH!!!”
“No! If you’re going to act like a child, you’re going to be TREATED like a child!”
“Oh, what are you gonna do?! Send me to my room?!”
“No. I’m sending you to Jack’s room.”
“WHAT?! NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME!!! I’M TWENTY FIVE!!! PUT ME DOWN, DAMN YOU! PUT! ME! DOWN!!!” Then there was the sound of a door slamming, followed by banging.
“You will stay there and think about what you’ve done!!!” And a moment later, Hotch reappeared. He dropped into his chair and rubbed a hand over his face, looking upset.
“Temper tantrum?” JJ asked, smiling at her boss on the computer screen.
“… Yeah, I guess.” Hotch sighed, sounding weary. He reached out and drained his orange juice, then began to eat the rest of his breakfast while discussing the case. But then, for the third time, Hotch stopped midsentence. This time, he was staring off into the OTHER direction, out the window to be exact.
“… Son of bitch!” He gasped, eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?” Emily asked.
“Spencer’s running down the street!” Hotch blurted.
“Uh oh. Twelve year old running away from home in the midst of a tantrum.” Rossi chuckled. “Don’t worry. He’ll be back.”
“God DAMMIT!!!” Hotch shouted, then jumped up and disappeared.
“… I uh… don’t think Hotch is coming back any time soon…” Rossi sighed, and agreeing, the team ended their web chat session with the man…
In the meantime, Hotch had thrown his pajamas off on his way up the stairs, jerked on boxers, a pair of jeans and a sweater, then quickly tied his shoes and ran back down the stairs again, flying out the front door with his coat and running down the street.
Meanwhile, Reid was sitting on a swing on the playground less than a mile from the house, staring at his feet, in sneakers that were quite large on his feet. Garcia had gotten a large collection of clothes in various sizes from GoodWill, and once Reid was finished growing up, they would re-donate them, since he would only wear each item for one day before growing out of them.
He sniffled and rubbed his nose, then pushed his glasses up further on his nose, and his eyes moved from his shoes to the puddle that had formed in the trench beneath the swings, courtesy of the rain, which was threatening to fall again.
A moment later, he heard the crunching of gravel and three figures appeared behind him in the reflection he had been staring at.
“Is it a boy, or a girl?” One boy asked. Reid tensed. He knew the tone in that voice… and it was nothing good.
“… I’m a boy.” He said, softly. “My name is Spencer. And I’m… twelve years old. What’s yours?”
“You don’t go to our school.” One of the boys snorted.
“No, probably not.” Reid responded.
“Why’s your hair so long? You tryin’ to look like a girl?!”
“No. I just haven’t gotten it cut yet.” Reid said.
“You look like a girl.”
“Well, considering how at my age neither I, nor many girls, have started puberty yet, we’re bound to look the same. There aren’t many physical characteristics that will differ other than—OOF!” Reid grunted as he was shoved from behind, and he fell on his hands and knees into the puddle. His glasses fell off, and into the water. Then there was a hand on his shoulder, roughly jerking him to his feet and spinning him around. Reid winced and stumbled, trying to focus on something. Anything.
“You trying to be a smart ass?!” One of the boys snapped.
“N-No, I was just merely stating the fact that before puberty, boys and girls look very much alike and—OW!” He fell to the ground after a punch to the face. He grimaced as he tasted blood. “D-Do you… really want a criminal record at… at this age?!” He asked, his voice high in pitch. “This is assault, and— HUHHK!” He was cut off as he was kicked in the stomach, which sent him into the cold puddle again… and landing on his glasses. He felt them snap underneath him, and he whimpered. “AAHN!” He cried out as he was kicked hard in the ribs, and he silently wondered if it would even be worth it to try and get away.
But before he could make a decision, there was a loud “HEY!!!” Reid recognized that voice… but he had NEVER heard it sound like that before. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Then the presence of the three older boys were gone, and he heard one of them grunt. He glanced to the side and saw the blurry figure of one of the boys scrambling away on all fours, and then all three boys were running away.
A moment later, Reid was being picked up off of the ground, and he winced at his aching head. “Are you okay?” Hotch asked, his voice gentle, but anxious. Reid sniffled and nodded. “Your nose is bleeding…” Hotch murmured, and Reid felt a cloth pressed to his nose. “God, and you’re all wet… Where are your glasses?”
“… broken.” Reid mumbled, pointing off to the side. He heard Hotch move over towards the swings, and then the man returned a moment later.
“Yeah… they’re snapped clean in half.” He sighed. “Come on. Let’s get you home and get you cleaned up…” And he took Reid’s hand and led him down the street.
“… I’m sorry.” Reid said softly.
“For what?”
“Running away.”
“Oh, Spencer…” Hotch sighed. “It’s okay.” And he smiled down when Reid moved to walk pressed into his side. He put his arm around the child’s shoulders and they stayed that way until they arrived home. Hotch took Reid into the kitchen and set the boy on the counter, getting a better look at his face in the light. He sighed and went to the freezer, taking out a bag of peas and pressing them onto Reid’s blackening eye. Then he wet a paper towel and began to dab at his split lip.
“Where does it hurt?” He asked.
“… My stomach.” Reid mumbled, and Hotch helped Reid take his shirt off. Hotch scowled when he found the bruising beginning to spread over Reid’s stomach and side.
“Do you feel like anything is broken?” He asked.
“No.” Reid said, shaking his head. “My nose is bleeding again...” Hotch sighed and pressed a dry paper towel up to Reid’s nose.
Then, there was a knock on the door. “Hold this here, I’ll be right back.” Hotch told Reid, and went to the door. He peered out the peephole and sighed, then opened it.
“Yes?” He asked, glancing at one of the boys who had attacked Spencer, and then looked at the man who had to be the boy’s father. The man was looking LIVID. The kid had a split lip and had skinned his palms.
“This him?” The man asked his son, and the boy nodded. The man then turned his glare onto Hotch. “I think first off, I need to know your name.” He snapped.
Immediately, Hotch opened the door completely, standing up straight and putting on his Unit Chief demeanor. “I’m Aaron Hotchner. And you are?” He asked, his voice hard, his very stance radiating authority and dominance.
“Gary Newman. My fifteen year old son came home with a busted lip, and he told me that a grown man had hit him. I am THIS close to calling the cops. But I figured I ought to hear your explanation.” The man growled. Hotch stared the man down, but then forced himself to relax. He nodded and stepped back, holding the door open.
“I see. Please, come in.” He invited. “It’s starting to rain again.” Gary Newman eyed Hotch, then nodded and stepped inside, guiding his son beside him. “Please.” Hotch said, closing the door and waving his arm, indicating the living room. They stepped in and Gary Newman sat down, his son beside him. Hotch took the arm chair.
“First off, I didn’t hit him.” Hotch said calmly. “I grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him. He tripped and fell.”
“And what the hell gave you the right to lay a hand on my son?!”
“Sir, did your son tell you what he was doing at the time I had grabbed him?” Hotch asked. Gary narrowed his eyes, then looked at his son. The boy had his head bowed, and wouldn’t meet his father’s gaze. Hotch sighed and turned his head. “Spencer? Will you come in here, please?”
Gary Newman blinked and turned, then stood and his eyes widened when the child shuffled into the room. Reid had dried blood flaking under his nose and lip, which was swollen and cut. He clutched the bag of peas in one hand and his broken glasses in the other, and his right eye was now swollen and turning a vivid purple. Red and purple bruising mottled his ribs and stomach, and he was limping. His pants and shoes were wet and splattered with mud.
“Your son is fifteen, sir.” Hotch stated. “Spencer is twelve. And I grabbed your son when I was pulling him, and his two friends, off of Spencer.”
“Chandler? Is this true?” Gary demanded, his tone low and dangerous. His son seemed to huddle down. “You were with Luke and Sean, weren’t you?!”
“… Yessir.” Chandler squeaked.
“Mister Hotchner.” Gary said, turning. “I want to apologize. I am NOT raising a bully!”
“I’m sure you’re not.” Hotch said, standing and nodding to the man.
“He is NOT getting off lightly.” Mr. Newman said, turning and glaring at his son. “Chandler. Apologize.”
Slowly, with a wince, his son stood and shuffled over to Reid, who eyed him warily.
“…’M sorry…” He mumbled, and after a moment, Reid offered a small “… s’okay…”
“Spencer, go take a hot shower, okay?” Hotch said, and Reid nodded and scuttled away, grateful to leave the awkward scene. Hotch turned back to Mr. Newman. “I apologize if I hurt your son.”
“He deserved it.” Mr. Newman said. “And I’ll be telling his friends’ parents what they’ve been up to.” Hotch nodded, and he and Mr. Newman shook hands.
“Are uh… you going to be pressing charges?” Mr. Newman suddenly asked. Hotch smirked slightly.
“No. I think things like this should be resolved by the parents. Spencer wasn’t seriously hurt. And as long as the boys get disciplined properly…”
“Oh, he WILL be.” Mr. Newman said, again shooting his son a glare. His son looked worried, and a moment later, there was a beeping from his pocket. Mr. Newman snorted. “And he can start by handing over his cell phone.” Chandler drooped and pulled it out, giving it to his father, who pocketed it.
Hotch walked them to the door. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hotchner. Sorry it had to be under these circumstances.” And the men shook hands again, said their goodbyes, and then the Newmans were gone. Hotch sighed and shook his head, then went to make some soup for lunch.
Reid was content to spend the rest of the day curled up in a large blanket on the sofa playing video games, with an overprotective Aaron Hotchner checking in on him frequently while helping the team out on their current case via webcam. They had left over Chinese food for dinner, and when bed time rolled around, so did the next temper tantrum…
It all began when Hotch said, “You are sleeping in Jack’s room, and you are staying there all night.”
Reid’s immediate response had been “No.”
“Spencer, you’re too old to be sleeping with me.”
“I’m twenty five!”
“You’re twelve.”
“I was born—“
“Spencer. You’re twelve. You are a minor. It is not appropriate for you to be sleeping in the same bed as me.”
“But we’re engaged.”
“Spencer…”
“Are you saying that we’re NOT engaged?” Reid asked, fixing a hard stare on Hotch.
Hotch’s immediate thought was ‘… fuck. He trapped me.’ But then he said, “Are you wearing a ring?” Reid blinked, then looked down at his hand.
“… My fingers are too little.”
Hotch nodded, saying “And until you can wear the ring again, you are sleeping in Jack’s bed.”
“But—“
“No.”
“But Hotch, I—“
“No.”
“… That is MY bed too!!!”
“Spencer, you—“
“NO!!!” Reid shouted, jumping to his feet. “MY bed, MY room, and that’s where I’m sleeping!” And the child bolted, running up the stairs for the bedroom.
“SPENCER!!!”
“I am NOT sleeping in Jack’s room! I’m NOT!!!” Reid howled, darting into the sitting room, running into the bedroom and taking a flying leap onto the bed, burrowing under the covers. Hotch walked in a moment later.
“Spencer, get out of the bed.”
“NO!”
“Spencer, now.”
“NO!” Hotch sighed and walked over, dragging the covers off of the bed. “NO NO NO NO NO!!!” Reid howled, clinging tightly to them. Hotch reached out and grabbed the child, but Reid shrieked and seized the edge of the mattress, clinging as though his life depended on it.
“Really?!” Hotch demanded, as Reid screamed wordlessly at the top of his lungs.
“I WANNA SLEEP HERE!!!”
“How about you sleep down in the living room?” Hotch offered. “With your video games.”
“Will you stay with me?”
“Spencer, I need to—“
“NO!!!”
“Spencer!”
“I wanna stay with YOU!!!”
“Spencer, you’re acting like a spoiled child.”
“Am I a child, or aren’t I?! You can’t have it both ways, Hotch!”
“But you ARE both! You’re a twenty five year old in a twelve year old’s body.”
“SEE?! I’m twenty five!”
“I am not sharing a bed with you when you have the body of a twelve year old!”
“But I’m TWENTY FIVE!!!”
“With the body, and temper, of a twelve year old. Now let go!”
“NO!!!” Reid howled. And with a noise of disgust, Hotch let go of the child and stomped out of the room. Reid blinked, watching him go. He heard him go down the stairs, and after a bit, Reid sat up. He pushed his hair out of his face, and slipped out of the bed, padding out of the bedroom and staring down the stairs. It was dark.
Frowning and worrying his lower lip, he made his way down the stairs. A light was on the guest room. Reid walked in. No one was there… but then he heard feet on the stairs. His eyes widened and he bolted.
“HOTCH!!!” He shrieked, scrambling up the stairs. But by the time he got to the top, the door slammed… and locked with a loud click. “HOTCH!!!” He screamed, throwing himself against the door and pounding on it with his fists. “YOU SON OF A BITCH!!! THAT’S CHEATING!!!”
“Language, Spencer!” Hotch called from inside.
“FUCK YOU!!! LET ME IN!!!”
“SPENCER!”
“LET ME IN!!!”
“Go to bed!”
“NO!!! NO NO NO NO NO!!! LET ME IN HOTCH!!! LET! ME! IN!”
“Stop kicking the door!”
“NO!”
Hotch went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, rolling his eyes at the banging and screaming. He took his time in the shower, brushed his teeth and pulled on his flannel pajama pants. When he emerged, he listened.
Thud… thud… thud… thud… thud…
He sighed. It sounded like Reid was still banging on the door… with significantly less energy, yes, but… he was still at it. Hotch just sighed and got into bed. He had to be FIRM. Slowly, the systematic thuds put him to sleep… he woke several hours later. All was quiet. Slowly, he got out of the bed and made his way to the door, wondering where Reid had slept… Jack’s room, the sofa bed, the guest room. But when he opened the door, he stopped. Reid was curled up in a tight little ball on the floor, fast asleep and shivering. His clothes were already getting too small on him. Hotch sighed, then turned and went to his closet, getting a plain navy blue T shirt and returning to Reid.
He gathered the child in his arms, briefly thinking of how Reid was much too small for his age, and then frowning at the thoughts of the bullying he went through in High School at this age. He carried him down the stairs and into the guest room, setting him down on the bed. Reid made a sound of protest when he was laid down.
“Come on, Spencer… let’s get you changed.” Hotch said gently, removing Reid’s shirt and getting the large one on him before wrestling him out of his pants. But then, Reid curled up against him, gripping his shirt tightly.
“Spencer, time for bed. Come on now, lie down.”
“… No.” Reid mumbled. “You’ll leave me…”
“We have to sleep on our own now, Spencer.”
“No… I’ll have nightmares…” Reid whined. Hotch sat there for a moment, then sighed and lay down next to Reid, pulling the covers up over them. Reid immediately relaxed, curled up against him and went back to sleep. Hotch smiled. He stayed there for a few minutes and then slipped out of the bed, tucked Reid in, and returned to his own room, going back to sleep himself.
And Reid joined him only an hour later...
- 11
- 12
- 13
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Growing Up Again