MEDICINE ➤ SPENCER REID

FIFTEEN

"It's so curious; one can resist tears and 'behave' very well in the hardest hours of grief. But then someone makes you a friendly sign behind a window, or one notices that a flower that was in bud only yesterday has suddenly blossomed, or a letter slips from a drawer... and everything collapses." - Colette.

* * *

"Hi dad," Louise breathed out, stepping inside of her fathers house; her hand in a tight grip with Spencer, both their clammy hands not wanting to let go one another.

"Louise," her father nodded, eyes wandering to the tall man stood beside his daughter.
"Dad, this is Spencer," Louise gestured with her hands, "Spencer, meet my dad." Spencer immediately stuck his hand out, which was strange to Louise, considering he usually hates handshakes. Jim shook his hand firstly, impressed by the action. Spencer breathed out nervously, "it's great to, uh," he stuttered, "it's great to meet you Mr. Ashfield."

"Please, call me Jim," her father smiled softly, letting go from Spencer's surprisingly warm hand before widening the front door even more.

Jim Ashfield invited the couple inside with a welcoming smile, to which wrinkles formed around his facial features - his greying hair fell into his square face. He watched wisely as Spencer slid his cardigan off and hang it on a coat hanger. Louise noticed her fathers staring, and decided to break the awkward silence, "how's work been?"

"Eh!" Jim huffed, "work is work, absolutely boring."

He lead them through the house; passing the living room and dining room - finally reaching the somewhat spacious kitchen area.
Louise could only notice how Spencer remained by her side every step of the way until they came to a stop - both standing in the doorway of the kitchen as Jim Ashfield fished around the cupboards.

"Tea? Coffee?" Jim asked, holding two mugs. Spencer looked at Louise first, "coffee," he blurted out, "coffee please." Louise, however, scoffed, "he takes about half a cup of sugar, dad, so be careful." Spencer widened his eyes at his girlfriends laughter, watching as Jim breathed out a stifled laugh, "two teaspoons will do."

"You want a drink?" Jim offered his daughter, but she only shook her head - quick to rest her hands on the countertops, "no thanks."
It was when Louise wandered her eyes around the area, and she caught Spencers attention - seeing as he furrowed his eyebrows, long strands of his hair falling into his face.
"Where's Chris?" Louise bit her bottom lip.

Jim sighed, passing Spencer a steaming mug of fresh coffee, "the kid hasn't moved from that darn space in the living room!" Louise looked down, a pang on sadness hitting her, "dad, he has autism..."
"I know that, honey," Jim leaned against the sink, "but that doesn't make an excuse for him to shut me out every damn day."

"Actually," Spencer cleared his voice, "most people suffering from autism have different characteristics," he watched as Jim cocked his head, "and one consists of not talking to anyone on specific days..." Louise looked up to her partner, a smirk forming on her lips; a proud smile prominent.
Jim folded his arms, "yeah, well," he mumbled.

"Let's see if he'll talk to me," Louise tugged at Spencer's arm, "or you," her voice was quiet, and her partner nodded - placing down his coffee cup before being pulled out from the kitchen; leaving Jim Ashfield alone in his thoughts.

Louise lead Spencer into the living space, seeing as her eleven-year-old brother sat in the middle, rocking back and forward with his legs crossed - hands playing at the chess board in front of him. His shaggy blonde hair moved every time he rocked, and his eyes trained into the game intensely.
There was a sense of peace when Louise saw him, and she let go from Spencers arm - to which Spencer inspected Christopher's every movement.