Summary: Spencer and Reader's happily ever after begins.
A/N: This is part one of two for the Epilogue! I hope you enjoy some fluff and comfort!
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The cold exam room air didn't seem quite as frigid with Spencer's hand in mine. It had been hard enough to get him to let go of me long enough to get the gown on, and now that I was ready, I feared I'd never get my hand back. Then again, there were worse fates.
"Is it normal to be this nervous?" I asked, settling back into the bed and staring up at him with a look I hoped would express my need for comfort. It became very clear very quickly that the message was not received.
"Well, during the first half of the pregnancy you're experiencing a lot of estrogen changes, which can lead to a lot of anxiety. It's supposed to be counteracted by progesterone, but the levels change so rapidly it's really hard to tell." Spencer's voice got caught in that cadence that told me he wouldn't be stopping soon. With an awkward, nervous smile, I nodded along, too afraid to stop him yet.
"Not to mention the morning sickness you've been dealing with, which I'm sure isn't exactly the most relaxing thing. Of course, there's also your concerns that you're gaining too much weight, which I think are ridiculous. You look beautiful. Yes, it's more than last time but, I'm certain that you also looked beautiful last time."
Rolling my eyes, I tried to pull my hand back at his unabashed flattery. He didn't let me, holding tightly in his grip. I had to laugh, looking up at him to see that he'd been staring off into space.
"And with our history, it's far more likely to experience an understandable anxiety about—"
"Spencer."
Thankfully, he realized that he'd crossed a line. Before we even got to this appointment, we'd made a promise to each other: we wouldn't talk about my last pregnancy. I'd answer the questions when the doctor asked, but other than that, I didn't want to discuss it. Not yet, anyway. Maybe never.
"Yes, it's normal." He concluded, sitting down on the side of the bed so we could be closer. "Or at least I hope so, because I'm also incredibly nervous."
I laughed louder now, putting my free hand over the two of ours clasped together. "I thought having you here would make this easier, but now we're just both a wreck."
"I can leave if you want?" He joked, motioning to the door.
"Come here." With a big smile plastered on my face, I managed to free my hands and grab him by his collar. When he was just close enough to close his eyes, fully expecting a passionate kiss, I stopped. "If you leave me right now Spencer Reid, I will actually kill you."
Audibly swallowing, he let out a brief chuckle in the hopes to lighten the mood. Deciding to give him a bit of a reprieve, I did dart forward to give a soft peck on his adorably awkward grin.
The sound of the door caused us to break apart, both of our attention diverting at the same time. "Hi Mr. and Mrs. Reid, sorry for the wait—"
"It's Dr. Reid." I corrected, edging out Spencer's overlap by less than a second. It'd become a bit of a contest, really, for the two of us to see who could do it first. I'd won this round.
"Oh, I'm sorry." The technician muttered, flipping through the chart in hopes of finding an answer. "Which... one of you?"
"Dr.," I said, waving my hand in front of my husband as if I were presenting him to a crowd. Then, with an even more dramatic motion, I held my hand to my chest and proudly declared, "Mrs."
The technician was looking at me like I was insane. But that was okay, because the smitten look on the man next to me meant the world to me. Then again... he had just joked about leaving me here, so he also needed to pay.
"He's not a real doctor though, so don't let him bully you. You can kick him out if he gets annoying."
Spencer's smile quickly turned to a pout. He looked over to the technician with an understanding nod. "She's already threatened me twice." He admitted softly.
"Noted!" They laughed in response, probably wondering why we couldn't just be normal. But they'd be in for a long nine months if they couldn't deal with this. Spencer had barely even talked yet! "I've looked over your chart. Looks like... you had a previous pregnancy that terminated at about 17 weeks."
My heart fell in my chest, and for a second, I lost my voice. I'd known it was coming, but it didn't make it any easier.
"Yes, that's correct." Spencer spoke for me, his hands finding one of mine again. The warmth spread like wildfire through my body, reminding me that I wasn't alone in the room. I didn't have to hold this by myself. He was here, and he was ready to carry me and any lingering negative memories.
But the technician didn't seem concerned at all, flashing us a comforting yet solemn smile. "Well, don't fret. That doesn't necessarily mean anything will be wrong with this one. Let's go ahead and see what we've got."
Everything seemed so much faster now, and I wondered if time really had distorted itself in that time without Spencer. I tried not to think about it too hard, trying to remain rooted in the present. Because I was pregnant! With Spencer's baby! My husband Spencer Reid!
... Who looked absolutely, positively, terrified, seconds after the image appeared on the screen.
"What's wrong?" I immediately shouted, my hand almost going to my stomach before Spencer stopped it.
"Nothing." He still hadn't looked at me.
"No, you're freaking out." I huffed, offended that my own husband thought I wouldn't know what his freak-outs look like. "What do you see?"
"I thought you said he wasn't a real doctor? He's got quite an eye for ultrasounds."
The tone in the room was giving me whiplash, and my head spun at all the possibilities of what Spencer saw on the screen. I could only barely hear my own heartbeat whooshing louder through the speakers. "If someone doesn't tell me what's going on, I'm going to scream."
"If he's seeing what I'm seeing..." The tech said with a nervous laugh, probably wondering if I was going to go through with my threat either way, "then he just figured out that your little one are actually little ones. Plural. It looks like you're having twins."
"...What?"
Now neither Spencer nor I could speak, the lapse in our conversation being replaced with the first baby's heartbeat. Choking on a sob, I looked up to my husband to sense his reaction, but he just looked equally stunned. Even when they began to play the next heartbeat, his mouth just hung open.
"Spencer, say something."
"Do twins run in your family?" He asked suddenly, crashing back into reality and tearing his eyes away from the ultrasound. "They don't. You've never mentioned that before."
"I don't even know any twins!"
His eyes welled with tears so quickly, I almost got scared. I didn't know how to react, my mind trying to make sense of the new information. Never in a million years would I have guessed that this would have happened. The technician, sensing our horror, decided to try and help.
"Well, there is actually a —"
"3.35% chance of having fraternal twins without fertility treatments. But that number can rise two times with a family history. She doesn't have one, though. Still, her age would factor in since the older you get, the higher the amount of follicle stimulating hormone you have, which increases your odds of releasing multiple eggs during ovulation."
The technician looked up with a horrified, confused stare. I just shook my head, waving a hand to signal to let him finish.
"That's also not factoring in her height or weight. And considering the number of fraternal twins has also been increasing annually, it just gets more and more likely each year."
"Are you sure he's not a real doctor?"
"Positive." I nodded, blowing out a deep breath before I worked up the courage to ask the question I desperately needed answered. "So is everything... Does everything look okay? Are they alright?"
Wasting no time, the technician turned to me with a smile full of compassion and devoid of pity. "Everything looks perfect, Mrs. Reid. They look like two healthy babies."
Perfect.
"Let me go ahead and print off some pictures and you four will be all good to go."
Once they left, it was just me and Spencer again. Well, and the two little humans growing inside of me. Even just thinking it made it more real, and an equal amount of fear and unadulterated joy bubbled into my chest.
"Twins." I said out loud, gauging Spencer's reaction in the quiet, "We're having... twins."
But if the big, goofy grin on his face was any indication, his freak out had ended. Even just the sight filled me with relief. "Are you okay?" He asked, no doubt feeling my hand start to relax around his.
"I think so? Are you okay?"
Locking eyes with me, he bit his bottom lip to try and control his facial muscles that refused to budge from the full-mouthed smile. "Yeah... I'm okay. I'm here. It's wonderful."
"Yeah," I said with a laugh, "it really is."
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It had been a simple case. So simple, in fact, that it almost felt wrong for it to be my last one on the field before maternity leave. I certainly wasn't going to argue for a more dangerous one, but I found myself reconsidering whether fate really had it out for me.
Spencer also seemed quite relieved that we were returning without trouble. As he helped me up the jet bridge, his hands never once left me. His insistence was completely unnecessary, and in a way, insulting, but it was also adorable, so I let it slide. I understood why he'd wanted to treat me like I was fragile. I knew him to be the same.
I took my usual seat on the couch and let out a breath that reminded me exactly how little space I had left of my lungs. These twins were no joke. I'd thought my bump was noticeable before at this point in the pregnancy, but this was just ridiculous. But Spencer didn't seem to mind. He took the seat next to me and looked at me the same way he always had — with enough love to smother someone.
Not like I could breathe, anyway. It was a worthy sacrifice.
"Well, here goes my last ride on this contraption for a while."
He was quick in his reply.
"I'm going to miss you."
I sensed the anxieties hidden beneath the simple statement. Time away just meant more opportunities for something to go wrong while we were apart. I was quieter about it than him, but the worries were still there. It was understandable. It was nice not to be alone with them, either.
"Do I really have to sit out all these cases?" I spoke softly and sadly, "It feels wrong... I could still come with you guys and not go out in the field..."
"Traveling with us is going out in the field," he kindly reminded me.
I knew he was right. I knew I should trust my husband, so I bit down on my lips to stave off the tears that were threatening to fall. It felt silly to cry over something like this, but at the same time, I had two human beings growing in my stomach, so as far as I was concerned, I had a free pass to be emotional.
"I-I don't like being that far away from you." I admitted with shattered syllables, "What if something happens?"
"Nothing is going to happen."
He sounded so sure. I didn't understand how he could be. He knew every statistic about every possible outcome of this pregnancy. And each night, he somehow found more that were even more upsetting. It had only been a couple weeks since I'd banned the reading of pregnancy materials around me.
Yet he still seemed so... calm. I caught myself before I could start to resent him for it. I allowed myself to be grateful that one of us was still sane, instead.
"But what if it does?" I asked. Because I needed him to explain it. I needed the reassurance.
Spencer was happy to give it; as he always was. Taking my hand into his, he sat so close to me that he might as well have been sitting on my lap. Not that there would've been any room to do so. He looked at me with that smile, still bursting with love but in a gentler way.
"Then I'll be on the next flight home," he said. Something simple. Something soft.
"And after that?"
With a definiteness that warned me of the destructive path I was treading, he answered, "We'll figure it out then. Together."
Nodding solemnly, I tried to scoot closer to him despite knowing there was no space. The happy chuckle it elicited made it worth the discomfort, and Spencer also moved over while attempting to drag me with him.
"Come here. I want to hug all three of you!"
His efforts were in vain. I barely budged from my spot, and the attempts led to me practically fall on top of him on the couch. But thankfully he was not squished under the heavy weight of three people. Instead, we collapsed into a fit of wonderful, pure-hearted laughter. We were so full of our own love that we barely noticed the happy glances from the rest of the team, who'd grown quite used to our public displays of affection.
Eventually, he managed to swing his legs up on the couch. It allowed me to shimmy between them to lay back against his chest. When he started to snake his arms around my waist, I couldn't help but ask the obvious.
"Can your arms even fit?"
"Yes!" he yelled back proudly, only to tag on a very rude, "For now."
Reaching back, I wildly swung my hand until it made brief, weak contact against his face.
"You're such an ass!"
Spencer caught my wrist in his hand. Even with the motion, his touch was gentle. He still viewed me as something fragile — or perhaps just something worth protecting. Either way, he did not respond with any sort of violence.
Instead, he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of the hand that had just hit him and whispered into the skin, "Thank you for loving me, anyway, Mrs. Reid."
And I did. I loved him. Just like I always had.
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It's never nice to wake up to an empty bed. And when the bed is empty because it's missing your moderately pregnant wife, it's much, much worse.
Although previous experiences dictated that she was probably either in the kitchen, sitting on the ground in front of an open fridge and eating food from the jar or in the bathroom complaining about having to pee fifteen times a night, I got the feeling that something was wrong.
I got out of the bed without a second thought. I saw the dim light of the bathroom filtering through the crack in the door, and my heart continued its fast descent into my stomach. Still driven by the inexplicable sense of impending doom, I made it about halfway to the door before I heard it.
Crying. They weren't soft cries, either. It was uncontrollable, inconsolable sobbing.
I knocked on the door as gently as I could in my disoriented and now fully panicking state. At the same time, my trembling voice nearly shouted, "(Y/n)! Hey, pretty girl. What's wrong?"
After a moment of silence, as her crying waned, she mumbled, "You can come in."
I didn't need to hear it again. The light burned my eyes, but all I wanted to see was her.
The sight was ever bit as painful as I thought it would be. There was nothing about her that wasn't beautiful, but her red-rimmed eyes never failed to feel like knives in my chest. Even worse still, she was sitting on the ground with her back against the wall her arms wrapped possessively over her stomach. She didn't even look at me when I dropped to my knees in front of her hard enough that I expected them to bruise.
"Are you okay? Why are you crying?"
She rolled her eyes, but her words caught in her throat.
"I don't know. I'm pregnant?"
I could tell she was frustrated with me, and I felt very much the same. There was nothing worse than seeing her suffer and knowing there was virtually nothing I could do.
But I could be there. I could do that like I couldn't before. So I tried to be there with her, my hands clearing the hair from her face and trying to bring her attention off the wall she was blankly staring at and back to me.
"Come on, talk to me. What's wrong?"
With a keening cry, the tears started to fall harder the closer I got to her.
"I'm scared." The two words were barely a whisper, but I heard them echoing in the worst way.
Her arms clutched tighter while her head fell exhausted against my hand. I hated myself for not being able to offer her more of a place to rest. I wanted to talk away all the pain and replace it with nothing but the joy she deserved to feel. I wanted to turn back time and remove the memories of how it could all go so terribly wrong.
But the laws of physics weren't going to change for me, and all my words were meaningless. They were completely and utterly useless. But I tried anyway, giving her what I hoped was a reassuring smile while I spoke.
"Hey. Don't think like that. Everything's alright."
"I can't help it, Spencer," she ground out between teeth clenched shut, "There are two human beings in my stomach."
Trying to remember that the hormones dictated her emotions more than any stupid thing I said, I rested my hand against her stomach. Immediately, her arms loosened, and her body began to relax. With soothing motions over her bump, I asked the question I didn't want to ask, but really needed the answer to.
"Does it hurt? Are you bleeding?"
"No, I'm not bleeding. But yeah, it fucking hurts. Of course it hurts. Look at it."
As I took the time to look down at the stripes skin, I tried to figure out how to navigate this now that I could be relatively sure that it was just another rough night. It sucked to be sitting here with her and not being able to tell her everything I wanted to. She would never believe me when I told her how beautiful she looked, or how proud of her I was. She wouldn't see the miracle that I did because she had carried the burden of the previous loss.
Instead of trying to fix everything, though, I did the next best thing. I offered her a brief kiss on her forehead before I gave her my hand.
"Come lay down. I'll take care of you."
It was, by far, the happiest I'd seen her yet. Despite the tears still streaming down her face, she seemed enthralled by the prospect of being cared for. I honestly couldn't blame her; it was getting harder as the pregnancy went on. Because she couldn't travel for work, it meant that I always had to. We had barely seen each other outside of video chatting since she was Virginia-bound.
But we were together then, curled up in our bed in whatever awkward position would make it so she didn't feel like she was being crushed with her own weight. I turned on the light beside me and grabbed my wallet to find my secret weapon. I wrapped my arms around her from behind, however they would fit, and I held the new, detailed sonograms up for her.
"Tell me what you see."
She hummed in thought for a minute before she started to laugh.
"Something vaguely human... and that one has your nose."
"And this one definitely has your oral fixation," I teased as I tapped my finger against the bottom twin with their thumb shoved fully in their mouth. I earned more of her laughter, which gave me permission to bury my face in her neck. I tried to let my lips do something more useful than words. I littered her skin with soft, ticklish kisses in the hope that the sound would drown out whatever thoughts she had.
But when she spoke, her voice was still as resigned as it had been before.
"It just makes me so nervous that I haven't felt them move yet," she admitted softly. It still felt like a punch to the gut.
She must've felt me wince, because she continued in a calmer voice, "I know it's normal for it to take longer with twins but... I mean, look at my stomach. They're clearly there!"
"How about I talk to them?"
It was something that we'd done quite often. Usually, it was me whispering to her belly while she begrudgingly tried to go about her daily chores. She acted like it was a nuisance, but I could tell by the way her lips twitched up each time that she enjoyed it as much as I did.
"You're gonna give them their first lecture while they're still in the womb? They'll never want to come out then."
The tease was earned and appreciated, if for no other reason than hearing her laugh for a moment longer.
"I'll read to them. And you. You need to sleep, and I know it's been hard lately."
With a dramatic sigh fit for the mother she would soon be, she shifted back against me to expose more of her belly for me to hold.
"Okay. One bedtime story," she conceded.
"Just one? Okay. Let me think."
I feigned thought for a few seconds before smoothing my hand across her belly. Then, as softly as I could, I began to recite the same story we'd read dozens of times before, my voice not nearly as shaky or unsure as it used to be.
"A mother held her new baby and very slowly rocked her back and forth, back and forth, back and forth."
An anxious breath fell from her lips as she tried to relax the best she could. She used the warmth of our embrace to stave off the tears. Of course, we both knew that once I started singing, it would be a lot harder to cry. Unless it was from her ears bleeding, anyway.
Still, when I started, she hummed along.
"And while she held her, she sang,
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be."
And the pattern repeated, the two of us rocking and holding our children in the only way we could. The overwhelming crescendo of emotions blurred reality, and for a moment I'd forgotten that the rest of the world was asleep. It just didn't feel that way, with my entire world laying in my arms. That's all I could think about when we finally got to the last page in my memory. With a scratchy, tear-ridden voice, I struggled through the final verse.
"I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living
my baby you'll be."
And just as I finished, we both let out a breath. We sat in the silence and tried to find a way to trust that things would be alright.
Then, just before I opened my eyes, I felt a sudden, foreign sensation underneath my palm.
"Oh! Oh my god!" my wife yelled. She nearly jumped out of my arms, but stopped herself.
My mind was reeling, my hand now more insistently pressing against her and seeking the feeling again.
"Did they just—"
"They did!" she gasped.
Her hands followed mine as more movements began. She couldn't stop laughing, but I heard the tears, too.
"Wow!" she said with a pause, "They must really hate your singing!"
Once again, I couldn't get upset with her for telling the truth. Further, I was so just so ecstatic about what was currently happening against my hand that nothing else mattered. The subtle shifting of their tiny bodies felt like almost nothing to my hand, but it was enough. All I knew was that I wanted to feel it again, and again, and again.
Eventually, they calmed down as all four of us remembered that it was 4am and we were exhausted beyond compare. But I couldn't sleep yet. I nuzzled my face into my wife's hair and breathed in the smell of her shampoo so that I could remember this moment even more vividly in the future.
"I'm the luckiest man in the world."
I hadn't meant to say the thought out loud, but I didn't regret it, either.
"Why's that?" she mumbled back.
"Because I get to be here with you."
She turned her head back to me with a quick warning glance and a light smack to the arm still clinging to her.
"Stop that, Spencer. I will start crying again."
I did stop, but I smiled as I sneaked a quick kiss on her cheek before she could turn around again.
"Me too, I whispered back before maneuvering my arm under her pillow. I didn't care if it went numb; I just wanted to hold her as close as I could.
"I love the three of you so much," I promised her.
"We love you, too," she happily returned.
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The commotion of the baby shower was exactly what I'd expected, but it didn't make it any less chaotic. The team was small, but with all of the other family members and kids, my house was bustling with loud laughter, food, and love. My husband sat beside me with a smile that I swore was permanent. Across from me, Penelope wore a similar look.
"Open mine! Mine first!" she cheered through the commotion as she shoved a box onto my lap.
I eyed it carefully before shaking it to confirm my suspicions.
"Is this what I think it is?" I asked with a smile. When she refused to answer, I used the tiny box to gesture to my husband sitting on the floor beside me. "Should I have him open it?"
The poor girl huffed in protest. Crossing her arms with a frustrated pout, she cried, "See, this is why I hate being friends with a bunch of profilers. I don't get to have any surprises!"
"Don't worry, he's clueless," I assured her.
I handed Spencer the box that he took with an absolutely baffled expression.
"What is it?" he asked.
Clueless.
"Open it," I instructed.
With a childlike enthusiasm, he tore open the wrapping paper and immediately recognized the pattern of the box. Even more excitedly, he popped it open to reveal two tiny pairs of baby shoes that looked remarkably familiar. He held up the two pairs of Converse baby shoes, each one sporting a different colored shoelace, and his eyes clouded with joyful tears in a matter of seconds.
"Wow! They look just like mine!" he squeaked.
"Except clean. And not destroyed," I quickly corrected with a few gentle pats on the head.
He pouted up until he hooked a finger into each of the four shoes and held them to his heart. It was then he professed proudly, "I love them."
The rest of the gifts went by, each filled with a personal memory or touch that truly captured just how long we've waited for this moment. And despite how nice it was, with the positivity and joy filling every particle of the home, I felt that fear creeping back.
My hands rested on my stomach, where the twins restlessly knocked each other back and forth. I took in a few deep breaths, cautiously scolding them for making a scene on my day. The silly thought made me smile. But then the twins decided that happy meant reckless, too, and they were back at it again. Just as I winced in pain, a familiar face appeared beside me.
"So... You're getting there, huh?" JJ asked with yet another large grin plastered on her face.
"Time flies, huh?" I replied with a heavy sigh.
"When you're pregnant?" she laughed, raising eyebrows and concluding, "Not at all."
"God, that's so true. I swear it's been a year."
The two of us laughed together. It hadn't always been easy, but it was nice to finally able to share the happiness of the circumstances with each other. We hadn't really talked about the pregnancy because our memories still tainted and our anxieties too present. But something about the atmosphere within the party felt different. Her comfort (and her children now climbing my husband) reminded me that I wasn't alone by any definition of the word.
When I looked over at her, though, the way her eyes glistened with a deeper understanding than I'd ever given her credit for.
"Spence seems happy," she said because she knew as well as I did how much this meant to Spencer, and she was just grateful to be the smallest part of it.
And I was grateful to her, too. Even if I hadn't shown her that yet. Truthfully, I was desperate for her approval. She was the best mom on the team, and my husband's other keeper when I wasn't around. Any feelings of jealousy or resentment felt like a lifetime ago. Now, though... we could find something worth sharing.
"It's surprising how happy he is, considering how much I yell at him," I joked, but she flashed me a smirk that told me she knew what I was talking about. I slightly cringed as I admitted, "The other night I made him bring me McDonalds in bed."
"What time was it? 3AM?"
Her guess was a little too close for me to expect it was entirely uneducated. Knowing their friendship and her hours, he'd probably called her on the way to the restaurant for advice.
"So close. 2:30," I corrected, laughing when she nodded in a sympathetic understanding.
"Did he put up a fight? I can yell at him for you if he did."
"Never," I responded quickly, brushing the idea off with puckered lips.
She saw the guilt and secrecy in my contained laughter, her eyes narrowing to hopefully get me to admit what we both knew was true.
"And I already yelled at him, anyway."
Our shared entertainment in the poor guy's suffering drew his attention from across the room. JJ saw his goofy, lovestruck smile before I did, and she tracked his eyes back to my stomach. My hands gravitated there so effortlessly when I looked at him, like I was reminding myself that we were all together. That I wasn't alone.
Right on cue, JJ said with crackling words, "I'm... really, really happy for you guys."
I turned to see her teary eyes, which meant that I would be crying milliseconds later.
"Thanks, JJ," I choked, wiping at my face and clearing my throat to try and look the slightest bit presentable with two human beings wrestling inside of me.
Spencer had gotten distracted again, currently running in circles in our living room being chased by three children,who eventually overpowered him. His dramatic wails as he collapsed to the floor made my heart overflow with pride and fear and something else.
"I just... hope I can be as good a mom as he will be a dad," I admitted for the first time out loud.
But JJ just placed her hand over mine, feeling the way the two little ones stilled at our touch.
She waited for me to look at her before she spoke with such a remarkable sincerity that I had to believe her.
"You already are."