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Growing Up Again	By : hatochiisai Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 21451 -:- 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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Four Years Old

Hotch was jerked awake by a piercing shriek, and then hysterical sobbing. He bolted straight up in bed, rolled out of it and landed in a crouch, gun out and ready. Then, he heard footsteps and he lowered the gun as Spencer ran into the room, tears streaking his face as he clutched his hand close to his chest. Hotch’s eyes widened when he saw the blood…

“Oh! Spencer?!” He dropped and gun and caught the child, holding him close. “Spencer? What happened, baby?”

“Ar-Ar-Ar-Tem’s… b-b-bit me!”

“Artemis bit you?!” Hotch clarified, and Reid nodded. “Let me see…” And he coaxed Reid into showing his head. Sure enough, there were four tiny puncture wounds, two on the back of his hand, two on the palm. “What were you doing when she bit you, Spencer?”

“I was playin…” Reid sniffled.

“Tell me specifically what you did…” Hotch said.

“I was tryin’ ta hold her an, an, an, she tried to run away.”

“And?”

“I grabbed her tail…”

“Well… that’s why she bit you, baby. Cats don’t want to be held and petted when YOU want to do it, they want it when THEY come to YOU. And grabbing her tail may have hurt her.”

“I’m sorry…” Reid whimpered.

“Shhh… It’s okay, sweetheart.” Hotch crooned, picking up the now larger child and taking him into the bathroom. He cleaned the bite carefully and put little band-aids on them, smiling as Reid began humming quietly to himself. When finished, Hotch kissed the band-aids, and was rewarded with a bright smile.

“Ready for breakfast?” Hotch asked, and Reid nodded. Hotch looked through the clothes that Garcia had purchased, and found the size that should fit the child. Reid was soon wearing (to Hotch’s dismay) a small pair of jeans and a Harley Davidson t-shirt. He made the child breakfast, and then the pair went to the study, right across the foyer from the kitchen. Hotch lifted Reid up so the boy could feed the fish in the 100 gallon tank, and then Hotch set Reid down on the couch with a book while he went to his desk to work. But half an hour later, Reid let out a little huff and threw the book.

Startled at this sudden outburst, Hotch looked up.

“Spencer?” Reid was staring at him, a pathetic look on his face. Frowning, Hotch stood and walked over to the child. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t read…”

“Was that too hard?” Hotch asked, smiling.

“No… I can’t see it!”

“Can’t see it?” Hotch asked, confused. Then, his eyes widened. He turned and ran to the bookshelf, where an old photo album of Reid’s was. He pulled it down and opened it, flipping through.

There. Spencer, age three. A smiling child sat in his mother’s arm. And then Spencer, age four… a smiling child sat in his mother’s arms, glasses on his face.

“Oh…” Hotch breathed. He turned and looked at Reid. “You need glasses.”

“In ‘da box.”

“… Box? What box?”

“Mommy had them.”

“Do you know where the box is now?”

“I had it in my closet.” Reid said.

“what closet?”

“In the… in the loft.” Reid said. Hotch blinked.

“… it’s in storage…” He murmured. “Okay… Come on.” And he picked the child up and headed out to the car. Then, he frowned… he didn’t have a car seat for Reid’s current size. “Damn…”

“No no!!!” Spencer gasped, eyes wide. Hotch blinked as little hands covered his mouth. “No no, Aaron! No no!” Hotch was confused for a moment, but then he realized… he had used a bad word.

“Swwy.” Hotch mumbled behind the hands, and Reid slowly lowered them. Hotch considered the child before him, then pulled out his phone.

“You have reached the information air traffic control.”

“Garcia, I need you to do me a favor.” Hotch said.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Is the team on a case?”

“Yeah. They just headed for the airport.”

“When will they arrive?”

“It’ll be a few hours… why?”

“I need you to run an errand for me.”

“Okay…?”

“The storage space that Spencer’s miscellaneous belongings are in…”

“Yeah?”

“Do you remember seeing a box with glasses in it?”

“Oh, yeah. I thought it was weird. Reid’s mom kept all of his glasses. Even the broken ones. Put them in envelopes and labeled them. Very OCD.”

“Well, thank God she did.”

“why?”

“Reid needs them. He can’t see.”

“Ohhhh…” Garcia cooed. “My poor sweetie!”

“Hi, Garcia!” She heard Reid call in the background.

“Oh! HI CUPCAKE!” Garcia shouted back, making Hotch wince and jerk the phone from his ear.

“Garcia…”

“I’m heading out now, sir! I’ll be there in about an hour!”

“Alright. Thank you.” Hotch said, and hung up. “Alright baby. We’ll have your glasses here in an hour, okay?”

“Okay.”

“what do you want to do in the mean time?”

“Play outside?”

“Um… I dunno…” Hotch mumbled. “Last time, you got your head stuck in the fence.” Reid scowled.

“It was an assident.”

“I’m sure.” Hotch snorted.

“… Please?”

“Okay.” Hotch smiled, and he took Reid to the back yard. Within minutes, Reid was squealing and giggling as he lay in the hammock, Hotch pushing him back and forth and occasionally tickling the child. And when Garcia arrived forty seven minutes later, she was led to the back yard by laughter, and found Hotch chasing Reid around the many large, mature trees in the back yard.

“Hey boys!”

Reid changed direction immediately.

“Garcia!!!” He cheered and Hotch stumbled, thrown off by the sudden course change. Garcia knelt and caught Reid, kissing his cheek. Hotch walked over, smiling at the happy child. Garcia smiled up at Hotch.

“They’re in the living room.” She told him and they headed for the house, Reid leading the way.

“He’s so happy.” Garcia said with a smile.

“I’m kind of surprised.” Hotch confessed.

“Why?”

“Well… He’s so young… at his age, I would expect him to be wanting his mother.”

“He has you.”

“But a child still wants, and needs, his mother.”

“Don’t forget what that guy told you.” Garcia said, and Hotch looked at her. She smiled. “He hasn’t lost his memories. He knows you. And he knows that he loves you. And he knows that you love him, take care of him and keep him safe. Just as he probably knows where his mother is and why he can’t see her. You’re still his comfort.” Hotch sighed and nodded, smiling as Reid struggled to open the back door and scuttle into the house. As they approached the door, Apollo was peering out, and looking ready to bolt.

“HEY!” Hotch barked, and the cat froze, wide eyed. “Don’t you even think about it.” And the cat fled back into the house.

In the living room, a box sat on the coffee table. Reid was already trying to get into it. Giggling, Garcia picked him up and Hotch opened the box that was labeled ‘Spencer’s Glasses’ in Sharpie. Sure enough, there were almost countless envelopes, all labeled with a month and a year… And Spencer’s age. Hotch found two envelopes labeled “Spencer, Age Four”. One was for March, the other was for November. The March glasses were broken. November was intact. Hotch pulled them out and took them to the kitchen. Then he washed them and returned to Spencer, kneeling down.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Here we go.” Hotch smiled, and he put the glasses on Reid. Reid turned and looked at him, blinking several times before looking around with a smile. “Better?”

“YEAH!!!” Reid cheered, and Hotch set him down on the floor and watched him trot into the office and pick up the book he had thrown, scrambling onto the sofa and curling up to read.

“Ohhh…” Garcia sighed. “He is so SWEET.”

“He is.” Hotch grinned, and Garcia turned to admire the look of pride and love on the man’s face.

“He has you wrapped around his little finger.”

“I’m not arguing that.” Hotch said, shaking his head.

“I wish I could stay, but…”

“I know. You need to get back to the team. Call me if you need anything.”

“Same to you.” Garcia said cheekily, and Hotch smirked and saw her to the door before he headed to the kitchen to make lunch. Today was tomato soup and grilled cheese, and after eating Hotch and Reid curled up on the sofa, Reid in Hotch’s lap, to watch a movie. Reid picked Disney’s “Treasure Planet” from Jack’s shelf, and the entire time they were watching, Reid was going on and on and on about how this was impossible and that wasn’t true and Hotch would just smile, roll his eyes and drawl “It’s Disney, sweetheart.”

When the movie ended, Hotch looked down, blinking as Reid curled up into a ball, stuck his thumb into his mouth and closed his eyes.

“Hey now…” the man chuckled. “You sleepy?”

“Mm-hmm.” Reid sighed. Hotch smiled and stood, cradling the small child in his arms, and carried him into Jack’s room. He stripped him down to his pull-ups and tucked him into bed.

“Can you nap here while I work?”

“Yeah…” Reid sighed, and Hotch took off his glasses, setting them on the bedside table. Reid just snuggled down into the bed and closed his eyes. Hotch leaned over and gently kissed his cheek. “Aaron?”

“Yeah?”

“… I love you.” Came the sleepy mumble. Hotch grinned.

“Love you too, buddy.” He said softly, then crept out of the room.

He had an hour and a half of silence, save for the scratching of his pen, tapping of his keyboard, rustling of papers and the bubbling of Reid’s fish tank in the office before his precious charge awoke from his nap and shuffled into the room, putting on his glasses.

“Hey, buddy.” Hotch smiled when the child crawled into his lap.

“Hi…” Reid yawned, then blinked at the computer screen. “… New case?”

“NOT for you.”

“Awww… why not?”

“You’re too young.” Hotch said calmly, turning off the monitor. Reid frowned and pouted.

“Am not.”

“You’re four.”

“I’m twenty five.”

“Tell that to your pull-ups.” Hotch snorted, and Reid scowled darkly. “Come on, now. You wanna go for a walk before dinner?”

“… Okay.” Reid shrugged and went to dress, and then Hotch helped him into a little pair of Jack’s sneakers that the boy had recently outgrown. They were slightly big on Reid, but they would work.

And so they headed out the front door, down the winding front path and out of their little country garden gate. Then Hotch took Reid’s hand, and they began to walk.

“What kind of tree is that?” Hotch would ask from time to time, keeping Reid happy, entertained and engaged. Reid would tell him what kind of tree it was, and then spout off facts. Hotch had to remind himself over and over that Reid wasn’t really four… he was simply remembering what he already knew, it was just a bit of an issue for the still-developing little brain to sort through and make sense of most of the information.

But he was able to point at a passing butterfly and pronounce it “Papilo, uh, palipo, p-p-papilio glaucus, Eastern Tiger Swallowtail.” The child stammered through the proper pronunciation. “It’s the State Insect of Vir-gin-i-a.”

“Really now?” Hotch asked, smiling.

“Males are all black an’ yellow… an’-an’-an’ da females have blue on ‘em!”

“Amazing.” Hotch said, hoping he sounded suitably dramatic. Spencer looked up at him and grinned, and Hotch found the child to be incredibly adorable with his thick framed glasses. Then, they heard a barking. The child froze, eyes wide.

“… CALIGULA!!!” He shrieked, and began tugging on Hotch’s clothes, jumping up and down. “UP! UP UP!!!” He cried fearfully as the tiny black poodle came charging up the street towards them. Hotch quickly lifted Reid into his arms. The little dog that lived down the block had a strange hatred for Reid and chased him every time he went out for his morning jog.

“Wh-Hey! Reid!” Hotch howled as apparently picking Reid up wasn’t enough… the child seemed determined to climb up onto his head, screaming the whole time. Now the poodle was jumping up and down around Hotch’s feet, barking furiously. No one would look at the child and know that it was Reid… but the dog’s sense of smell showed him the truth…

“Oh!” Hotch heard a woman cry out. “Mister Henri Matisse, YOU KNOW BETTER!!!” And the elderly lady hurried over, three more poodles running after her. The woman knelt and scooped up the angry male poodle. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Hotchner.” She gasped. “Is that your son, Jack?”

“No.” Hotch mumbled, trying to contain the scared child. “He’s my uh… cousin’s son. STOP IT!!! Hold still! He’s not gonna get you!” and he finally managed to get Reid to relax against his chest, the child’s head on his shoulder. “There you go.” He smiled, running a hand up and down Reid’s back.

“Hello, Matisse.” Hotch sighed, reaching out and petting the barking dog in the woman’s arms. The dog quieted down once he had been petted, and just growled softly at Reid.

“I’m sorry. He just squeaks away before I even realize!” The dog’s owner said, shaking her head.

“It’s fine, Ruth.” Hotch said with a smile. “You take care.”

“Thank you. You too.”

And Hotch began to head home. “Alright, he’s gone. You wanna walk?” He asked the little boy.

“No.” Reid pouted, and cuddled close. Smiling, Hotch kissed his head and just carried him home.

When they got back, Hotch set Reid down and headed into the kitchen to make dinner. Reid trotted into the den, and then came into the kitchen with a book in his arms. He scrambled up onto the chair that still had phone books stacked on it, and opened the book. Then he smiled up at Hotch, who was staring at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing,” Reid began to read, “not alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego. Because men, groping in the Arctic darkness, had found a yellow metal, and because steamships and transportation companies were booming the find, thousands of men were rushing into the Northland.” Hotch marveled that when reading, the child’s speaking was suddenly smooth and flawless. “These men wanted dogs, and the dogs they wanted were heavy dogs, with strong muscles by which to toil, and furry coats to protect them from the frost.”

And so as Hotch made dinner, he listened to the four year old reading to him from Jack London’s ‘The Call of the Wild’.

Finally, they sat down for dinner, and Hotch spent the meal listening to Reid talking to him about the dogs that were used as sled dogs, and the Alaskan Gold Rush. When they were finished, Hotch sat Reid on the counter and Hotch washed the dishes while Reid dried them. Bath time was an event. Reid was more than a little bit active in the tub, and Hotch was just as wet as Reid by the time it was over and done with, and so afterwards Hotch wrestled Reid into an overly large shirt again with some pull ups, and parked him on the counter with his book again while he himself showered and cleaned the bathroom.

“Alright, Spencer. Let’s go.” Hotch said, picking Reid up and carrying him out of the bathroom. But when Hotch headed out of the bedroom, Reid tensed and gripped his shirt.

“NO!” He cried.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wanna stay with you!” Reid cried, eyes wide.

“Spencer, you’re getting big. It’s time to sleep in a big boy bed!”

“Want MY bed! With YOU!”

“No, let’s sleep in Jack’s bed.” Hotch said, firmly.

“NO!” Reid howled, squirming as Hotch carried him down the stairs.

“Come on, buddy. You’re gonna be five tomorrow.”

“No.”

“What if I stay with you until you fall asleep?”

“All night.”

“What?”

“Stay all night.” Reid grumbled, glaring.

“Uh…”

“ALL NIGHT.”

“Well… we’ll see.” Hotch sighed. Reid’s eyes narrowed, his lower lips stuck out, and his cheeks puffed up. Hotch had to fight back a laugh… he looked like a puffer fish!!!

By then, he had reached Jack’s room. He carried Reid across the room and sat him down on the bed, tucking him in. “Do you want a story?” Hotch asked. Reid nodded, seizing his bear and holding it tightly. “Alright.” Hotch nodded, and went through the bookcase, finally choosing ‘Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle’.

He had to read through three chapters before Reid finally fell asleep. Hotch smiled down at the child and pulled the glasses off of his face, sneaking from the room. He dug through the box of glasses and found a pair from when Reid was five, according to his mother’s neat print. He set these on the bedside table so that they would be ready when the child woke. And then he turned on the nightlight and slipped out of the room, heading to bed himself.

Only a few hours later, he was woken by the feeling of the child slipping into the bed with him and curling up by his side. Hotch couldn’t help but smile and drape an arm over the little boy, before going back to sleep…
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Growing Up Again