The Keeping of Words | Spencer Reid

46| Borderlines

A/N: Thank you to MariaBS3 for catching that I posted the wrong chapter! Here's the correct Chapter 46. 

Houston was, for them, a liminal space. Their world didn't exist there, but his mother was there. Life had to be put on hold to be there. And yet at the same time, the world moved forward.

For those few weeks, they lived in a hotel room. The first day Diana had been doing well, so Spencer brought her along to visit for a little while. For the briefest of moments, Bianca swore a look of confusion had appeared on the older woman's face, but it vanished just as quickly. Despite her illness, Diana was a warm person, and seeing her interact with her son, it was obvious how much they needed that time together. And when Bianca had joined them and she'd realized that her middle was much rounder, Diana's eyes had gown so wide as she looked back and forth between the two.

"Are – are you...?" She was hesitant to ask the question, worried her mind was playing tricks on her eyes again.

He couldn't contain his smile. "Yeah. We're having a baby. You're going to be a grandmother. I wanted to tell you in person." Eliminating any chance for confusion, and hoping it would help her to remember.

"A baby," she repeated. Diana had covered her mouth with her hands, looking at once awestruck and delighted. Then she'd moved to hug them both, shaking her head in gleeful disbelief before bombarding them questions they did their best to answer. Almost five months; no, they didn't know the gender; and there weren't any names they had in mind yet.

It was so good to see the both of them looking so happy. For those brief hours that afternoon, she almost forgot where they were. It felt like normalcy, just three people celebrating the upcoming addition to their family. All things remembered, all things cherished. Everything was beautiful for that short period of time.

When they reluctantly parted ways once visiting hours were over, Diana squeezed her hand. "You're going to be such a good mother, you know." She wasn't so sure about that – after all, she'd had few motherly figures to look up to in her own life. Motherhood had never crossed her mind as a possibility. Friends of hers were doing it though, Aoibhegréine and JJ. Even with her condition, Diana had tried to be the best mother she could be. Having her encouragement was enough to inspire a little confidence.

"Thank you," she said. When they left the clinic that evening, they walked back to their hotel buoyed by a newfound sense of hope. Maybe this treatment could work. Maybe she could get better. Their little family didn't feel quite so broken, and seeing the joy on Spencer's face was enough to erase any other doubts she had.

They spent the evening in a warm bath, his arms wrapped around her, while she read aloud to him from a poetry collection. It was every kind of comfort, to lie there with him, feeling the beat of his heart, his head nestled in the crook of her neck.

"Shall we postpone our love for the weather? If we must melt, let's melt together!" She had just concluded Ogden Nash's Summer Serenade when Spencer shifted his head slightly on her shoulder so he could speak.

"What if we named them that?" he asked. "Ogden?"

"Ogden?" she repeated, craning her neck so she could see him. He wore a lopsided grin, and she rolled her eyes, giggling. She set the book down on the edge of the bathtub. "For a moment I thought you were being serious. Can you imagine? Ogden Reid."

"Rainer Maria Reid," he suggested. "It's pretty unisex."

"Why stop at authors? Dickens has given us so many good names. Like Wackford Squeers. Or Canon Septimus Crisparkle."

He laughed, and she could feel the sound rumble through him. "Encyclopedia Brown. Major Major."

"Anathema Device."