Spencer Reid One Shots

He Lives In You (3rd part to "You'll Be In My Heart & "I See The Light")

"Spencer! Come here, it's time to go home!" You stood on the playground close to your apartment and waited for your 8-year-old son to finally leave his two best friends and go home with you.

When the little boy came running towards you, you couldn't hold back a smile. He looked just like his dad: the brown curly hair, the hazel eyes, the full lips...He was a midget edition of Spencer. And you were glad that he looked so much like him. You always got remembered of your beloved husband when you looked into his angel-like face.

You reached out your hand and Spencer grabbed it. He looked up at you. "Mommy, can I visit James on the weekend? He wants me to show him how chess works", Spencer asked. You smirked. Of course, your child was a genius as his father had been.

"Did you two ask James' mom if that's okay?", you asked back. Spencer nodded. "Of course. She said it's okay." And then a huge grin appeared on the boys' face. "Alright, then you can visit James for playing some chess on the weekend. But now we need to hurry, we have an appointment with Aunt Penelope and she hates it when she has to wait", you said and gently pushed your son forwards.

~

You and Penelope had wanted to meet again after one and a half week without being able to see each other. The team has had a pretty hard case to solve and you didn't want to disturb any of them. You were still close to Spencer's best friends and you were glad for their friendship. Whenever they could, they tried to help you as much as possible.

When you arrived at the café you had decided to meet with your friend, Penelope was already sitting at one of the tables, waiting for you. As soon as she spotted you and Spencer, she jumped from her chair and came to first hug you and then give Spencer a long hug and kissing him on his cheek. "Hey, little boy. How are you doing?", she asked with a beaming smile.

"Good, Aunt Penelope. Thank you", he replied as he slipped on one of the chairs and then rummaged in your bag to find the book he was currently reading. Yes, Spencer Reid's son could already read at the age of eight. Proudly you glanced at him while Penelope looked for a waiter to come and get your orders.

"Sweetheart, what do you want to drink?", you asked and ran your fingers through Spencer's curly hair. "Hot chocolate", he simply murmured, not even looking up from his book. Penelope watched you two, a smile on her lips.

"I'm always amazed all over how much he resembles Spencer", she murmured. You nodded, trying to hold back a deep sigh. Penelope was right. Your son was so much like Spencer and you were so thankful fort hat. Although you missed Spencer every day, your son made it much more bearable for you.

Suddenly, you felt an urge to go to the cemetery and visit Spencer's grave. You didn't know where that desire came from now, but it was there. It was as if you needed to talk to him.

After you all had finished your beverages and had talked about this and that, you looked at Penelope and leaned a bit over. Spencer was still sitting next to you, lost in the world of his book.

"Penny, could you do me a favor?", you quietly asked. The blonde nodded. "Of course. What is it?"

„Could you...could you take care of Spencer for an hour or so? I...I need to visit the cemetery", you explained. You shot a short glance at your son, but he hadn't heard you. Although you had thought about bringing him to his father's grave once, you hadn't have the courage to do so.

Spencer knew that his father died before he was born and you were sure he already knew what death meant. He was such a clever boy. Spencer had asked you several times to join you in your visits, but you had insisted every time. You didn't think it was a good place for a child, no matter how intelligent and smart he was. And you wouldn't take him with you today as well. Not yet.

"Sure! Take as much time as you need", Penelope eventually replied. „Thank you, Penny." You smiled and squeezed her hand. „Always, my dear."

Half an hour later you slowly entered the cemetery and walked straightly towards Spencer's grave. You had been here so many times already and still, this place gave you some comfort sometimes.

The grave was covered in colorful flowers – as it always was. To you it was important that it looked nice at any time. It was the only place you still felt really close to Spencer. It was as if his presence was in the wind that was blowing here and playing with your hair. You slightly smiled when you looked down at the name that was engraved into the beautifully formed stone.

„Hello, Spencer", you quietly said and touched the cold stone. You sighed. What should you say? How should you begin? Would it sound stupid if you'd talk to a stone? No, not for you. You felt Spencer here and you needed to tell him about his son.

„He is wonderful", you finally started, „he's so smart, just like you. He loves chess and reading and...he looks like you. Spencer, he is basically the same person as you and I'm so happy it's that way." You stopped and bit your lips, not wanting to cry. You couldn't even put into words how much you missed your husband. How much you longed for his touch and his warmth. There were moments you didn't think you could make it even one more minute without him by your side. But then...there was little Spencer. Yours and Spencer's son. And you knew, you lived for him.

„One day, I'll bring him here, I promise. I love you, Spence." Once again you touched the stone and after you had standing there quietly and thinking about the time Spencer had been alive, you turned around and slowly walked away again. It was enough for today. You'd come back next week.

~

„Mommy, where have you been?" Spencer's brown eyes examined you expectantly. He was laying in bed already and you had just told him a little bedtime story before he'd sleep.

„I was visiting your daddy, sweetheart", you quietly said. Spencer's eyes widened. „Tell me about it." He sat up straight and leaned against the pillow. You sighed. Of course, 9pm in the evening might not be the best time to tell your son that you had been at the cemetery but you knew that he wouldn't stop asking. He was stubborn, like his dad.

„I...went to the cemetery. Remember I told you that he's there?" Spencer nodded at your words. „I talked to him. I told him about you."

„About me?" Spencer slightly frowned and you nodded, smiling now. „Of course. He's your dad. And I needed to tell him what an awesome son he has. You know, your dad was a genius. He was unbeatable at chess and could read a book faster than you could imagine. Although...you're reading quite fast too, baby." You chuckled and stroked Spencer's cheek. The boy smiled at you, listening carefully what you were telling him. He was clearly interested and since he had never had the chance to get to know his father, he loved it when you talked about him.

„Then, I'm a bit like him?", Spencer asked. You nodded. „More than just a bit, Spencer. You're absolutely like your father. And I'm glad you are. Because...", you stopped and pressed your lips together to hold back your emotions. Even after all these years, they sometimes were still overwhelming. Whenever you looked at your son you got remembered of the love of your life and you knew, it was all worth it. You still had a part of Spencer.

„Because?", Spencer now asked and his voice pulled you back from your thoughts. You slightly shook your head.

„Because he lives in you, sweetheart", you finally said and couldn't stop a tear from running down your cheek. „You're his son and that means, a part of him is still there." You smiled and then, Spencer pulled away his duvet, kneeled on the mattress and threw his arms around your neck. You wrapped your arms around his little body and held him tight. This child was your everything. And you knew, you were doing it right. He would grow up to be such an amazing young man and you were incredibly proud of him.

„I love you, mom", Spencer murmured into your neck. „I love you too, Spencer", you replied and kissed his cheek before you put him back into his bed.