My Leave Of Absence

Spencer

My name is Spencer Reid, I am 10 months clean.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Stephie talk animatedly about the latest drama Emily had shared with her. Something about a new TV show drama in a way only Emily could describe. I smiled, nodding at the right moments, but truthfully, I wasn't fully invested in the story. It wasn't that I didn't care about what Stephie had to say—far from it—but the peace I'd finally found had made moments like these more precious.

A year ago, peace seemed impossible. Losing the baby had shattered something inside me that I wasn't sure I could ever put back together. The pain was unbearable, and for a while, I thought it might break us too. I distanced myself from her, from everyone. I thought that maybe the best way to protect her from more pain was to keep my distance.

But Stephie wasn't having any of that. Slowly, painfully, she brought me back. We spent months talking, healing in ways I never thought were possible. She never let me hide. She never let me run. And when we found our way back to each other, it was different this time. Stronger. Real.

We started dating again, officially this time, no longer hiding our relationship from our coworkers like before. It felt good not to keep any more secrets. Stephie and I had been through too much to keep things hidden. And now, we told each other everything—maybe a little too much, like when she filled me in on Emily's latest gossip. But it was moments like these, the quiet, everyday moments, that I cherished the most.

I could feel the weight of the past year lift as I listened to her, knowing that we had survived it all, and that things were good between us. Really good.

JJ announced she was a pregnant not long after Stephie and I announced we were together. I never even noticed she was seeing someone, his name is Will. Stephie and I decided it was best to never tell anyone about the baby we never got the chance to meet, it was something that was just for us to know. We don't talk about the loss often but we never forget. Theres a small hat that sits on the bookshelf in the memory of what could have been.

I don't know if this makes me a bad person but some part of me is glad Stephie isn't pregnant. Watching JJ be pregnant while still working make me nervous, even if she is just sitting at the station or the office, we've had bizarre things happen to us and I couldn't live with myself if something happened to Stephie while working a case, because we all know she wouldn't take a break. 

"Oh he's kicking a lot today." JJ sits next to me and places her hand over her very pregnant stomach. She's in her third trimester...I let my brain wander.

"In the third trimester, there's an average of 30 fetal movements per hour. Baby's kick to explore movement and strengthen muscle." She glares at me when I speak, it was just a fact I thought was worth sharing.

"Have you ever felt a baby actually kick?" Before I can answer her question she's grabbing my hand and placing it to where the movement is coming from. It freaks me out.

"Do you feel that?" She smile and I shake my head.

"Doesn't that freak you out..?"

"No, not at all." Then her expression changed to a more 'are you serious right now' look.

"Why? Does it freak you out?"

"Very much so." I take my hand back and turn back to the pile of papers in front of us.

"What freaks you out?" Stephie walks into the room and takes her usual place at the table, next to me.

"Reids scared of the baby kicking," JJ chuckles and Stephie looks at me, a sinister look lining her face.

"No, no. I'm not scared of it, it's just...it's freaky.." Inlet my voice trail on knowing she'll make fun of me no matter what I say.

"You know you used to do that too, back what 28 years ago??" She takes one of the papers from infront of me and I turn to her.

"Yes, I'm aware Stepheni, thank you. I know how babies develop." I roll my eyes and she snorts.

Stephie laughed, a sound that always managed to make me feel grounded, even in moments like these. "Come on, it's not that freaky," she teased, poking me in the side. "It's just a little human, exploring its new world."

I shoother a look, trying to seem annoyed but failing miserably. "It's like an alien trying to break out," I muttered, causing both Stephie and JJ to burst into laughter.

"Okay, maybe a little," Stephie conceded, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "But it's kind of amazing too, don't you think? Life growing like that."

"Yeah," I admitted quietly, the weight of her words sinking in. It was amazing. But it was also terrifying. I think of the small hat on the bookshelf, the one Stephie and I never spoke of but always knew was there. A quiet reminder of what we had lost and what could have been.

JJ shifted in her seat, her laughter fading into a soft smile. "You'll get used to it, Reid. You might even like it one day."

I nodded, but I wasn't sure I believed her. The thought of Stephie ever being in that position—carrying a child, being so vulnerable—sent a chill through me. I wasn't ready for that, not after everything we'd been through. It's like we have the worst luck in the planet. And Maybe I never would be ready for that.

Stephie must have sensed the change in me, because she placed a hand on my arm, squeezing gently. "Hey," she said softly, her eyes searching mine.

I swallowed hard, grateful for her understanding. "Yeah," I managed to say.

JJ glanced between us, her smile still warm but with a touch of knowing. Standing up and stretching, JJ starts to speak, "And Reid, just so you know, not all kicks are freaky. Some are kind of... nice."

I wasn't so sure, but I nodded all the same, watching as she left the room, her belly leading the way.

Stephie stayed beside me, her fingers still resting lightly on my arm. "You know," she said after a moment, her voice quieter now, more thoughtful. "We don't have to decide anything right now. We've been through a lot, and it's okay to just... be. For a while."

I looked at her, taking in the way her eyes shone with a mix of love and understanding. She always knew exactly what to say, how to ease my mind when the world felt too heavy. "Yeah," I agreed, more firmly this time. "Just being sounds pretty perfect."

She smiled then, that same smile that had pulled me back from the edge more times than I could count. And in that moment, I knew that no matter what the future held—whether we ever became parents, whether we faced more loss or found new happiness—we would face it together. Stronger. Always.

The silence between us wasn't awkward or heavy. It was peaceful, filled with the kind of comfort that only comes from knowing someone truly has your back. I didn't need to say anything more, and neither did she. We were in this together.

I glanced down at the papers again, but they didn't seem as important anymore. Not compared to this moment.

Stephie reached for one of the files, flipping through it absentmindedly. "You really are freaked out by the whole kicking thing, huh?" she teased, her eyes glinting with mischief.

I chuckled, shaking my head. "It's just... weird, okay?"

She leaned closer, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. "Don't worry, Reid. I won't tell anyone you're secretly afraid of babies."

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth in my chest told me that, for the first time in a long while, I felt... good. No, not just good. I felt at peace.

And that was enough.

"Have either of you heard from Stephie?" I ask as I walk into the makeshift office. We've been working this case for two days, and the tension is starting to take its toll. Hotch and Morgan both shake their heads, concern flickering in their eyes.

"I just—" I let out a frustrated sigh, staring down at my phone for the hundredth time. "I've texted her 23 times, called her about 10, and she hasn't answered. I'm getting worried." My voice cracks slightly as I look up at them.

Hotch glances at Morgan with a frown. "I sent her and Prentiss to follow up on a lead five hours ago. They should've been back by now. Has anyone tried calling Prentiss?"

JJ walks in at that moment, one hand resting on her pregnant belly as she eases herself into a chair. "No," she says, shaking her head. "I haven't heard anything from either of them. Why? What's going on?"

The pit in my stomach deepens as my mind jumps to the worst conclusions. What if the unsub got them? What if they're trapped, hurt, or worse? I try to push the thoughts away, but it's impossible. I glance at Hotch. "What if—"

Hotch holds up a hand, cutting me off. "Let's not jump to conclusions yet. Morgan, get Garcia on the phone. We'll track their phones and figure out where they are."

Morgan's already dialing before Hotch finishes speaking, pacing back and forth as we all wait. JJ's brow furrows, clearly worried, but she stays quiet. The silence is thick as we wait for Garcia's voice to come through the speaker.

Finally, Garcia answers, her voice chirping, "Talk to me, sugar."

Morgan quickly relays the situation. "We need Stephie and Prentiss's locations. They were supposed to report back hours ago, and no one's heard from them."

Garcia's fingers clatter on her keyboard as she searches. "I'm on it. Give me a sec... Okay, I've got their locations. Sending it to your phones now."

"Where are they?" I ask, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Somewhere downtown," Morgan replies, looking at the map Garcia sent. He frowns slightly. "We'll find out when we get there."

Without another word, we all grab our coats and head out, following the coordinates. Tension hangs in the air as we race through the city, my mind spinning with possibilities. What if they're hurt? What if we're too late?

We pull up to the address, and I glance around, confused. "This is... a bar?" I say, looking up at the neon lights flashing over the door.

Morgan steps out of the car, raising an eyebrow. "What the hell?"

Hotch doesn't say anything, but his eyes narrow as he pushes the door open, leading the way inside. The sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and loud music greets us as we step into the dimly lit bar.

And there they are.

Stephie and Emily are at a pool table, laughing and lining up their next shots, completely oblivious to the fact that we've been worried sick. Stephie's got a pool cue in hand, squinting as she lines up a shot, while Emily holds a drink, cheering her on.

I blink, my brain struggling to catch up with the scene in front of me. I had been imagining all kinds of terrible things, and here they are, perfectly fine... and clearly a little tipsy.

"Stephie!" I call out, my voice louder than I intended.

Stephie's head snaps up, her eyes wide with surprise. "Oh... hey, guys!" she says, as if we didn't just storm into the bar after hours of worrying about her.

Hotch steps forward, his expression a mix of anger and amusement. "What the hell are you two doing?"

Prentiss grins, leaning casually on her pool cue. "We, uh... got a little sidetracked."

"Sidetracked?" Morgan repeats, crossing his arms. "We've been trying to track you down for hours!"

Stephie shoots me a sheepish look, swaying slightly as she sets her pool cue down. "Sorry, Spence. My phone died, and, well, one thing led to another..."

I run a hand through my hair, torn between relief and frustration. "We thought something happened to you," I say, my voice a little sharper than I intended.

"Come on," Hotch says, cutting through the tension as he waves toward the door. "You two are done here. Let's go." He's very annoyed at them, and I get it, I am too. How did they even think this was a good idea?

Stephie and Prentiss exchange guilty glances before nodding, following us out of the bar. As we walk back to the cars, I hear Morgan mutter under his breath, "I swear, next time we're leaving them."

But I can't help but smile as Stephie stumbles into step beside me, practically falling against my shoulder with a lazy grin. "You were worried, huh?" she slurs, her voice thick with drunkenness, words coming out slow and exaggerated.

I roll my eyes, letting out a soft laugh despite myself. "You have no idea." I open the back door of the SUV for her, and she clumsily climbs in next to a half awake Emily, nearly tripping on her own feet as she does.

Hotch starts the engine, and we pull away from the bar. The silence in the car is heavy, though it's occasionally interrupted by Stephie's giggling.

She leans her head back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling like it's the most fascinating thing she's ever seen. "I mean... you worry so much, Spence," she says, dragging out the last word. "It's cute. But... too much."

I raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her. "Stephie, you disappeared for five hours. Without any contact. You really think I wouldn't worry?"

She waves a hand dismissively, almost smacking herself in the face in the process. "I was fiiiiine," she insists, her voice sing-songy. "I just needed a little... uh, break, you know? A lil' pool, a lil' drink... or a lotta drink." She giggles again, clearly amused by herself.

I can't help but sigh, though there's a hint of a smile on my face. "Yeah, I can see that. You're definitely drunk."

Stephie grins, tilting her head toward me with bleary eyes. "Not that drunk," she protests, though she nearly slides off the seat when the SUV takes a turn. "Okay, maybe a little."

"A little?" I shoot her a look, half exasperated, half amused. "You couldn't even walk in a straight line back there."

She waves me off again, her hand flopping around. "Details, details..." Her head lolls back against the seat, and she closes her eyes for a moment, like she's trying to gather her thoughts. Then, suddenly, she sits up, looking at me intently—or as intently as a very drunk person can.

"Spence..." she starts, her voice suddenly serious, though she's clearly struggling to form her words. "I'm really sorry, okay? I didn't mean to... to freak you out." She leans forward, her face way too close to mine. "I would *never* do that to you on purpose."

I shift back a little, trying not to laugh. "I know, Stephie. But you scared me. I thought something happened."

She frowns deeply, her brow furrowing as if this is the first time she's realizing the gravity of the situation. "No, no, no... no," she mutters, shaking her head so vigorously she almost tips over again. "I'm okay. I can handle stuff, you know? You don't have to, like, worry so much." She pokes me in the arm, her finger jabbing clumsily. "I'm tough. Like... a shark."

I raise an eyebrow. "A shark?"

"Yeah!" She leans back again, gesturing wildly, narrowly avoiding hitting her head on the window. "You know, like those sharks you're always talking about for your essay! All... tough and stuff! They swim around, don't need nobody! That's me. I'm a shark."

I can't stop myself from laughing now, I have no idea what shes talking about, what essay? "You're definitely not a shark right now, Stephie."

She pouts, crossing her arms and slumping down in the seat, but the effect is ruined by the fact that she's so clearly intoxicated. "Well, I'm a little shark," she mutters. "A baby shark. But I'll still bite someone if I have to."

"You're not biting anyone," I say, shaking my head. "Just try not to fall asleep before we get back."

She hums contentedly, her head resting against the window now. "You know... you care about me. A lot. I can tell," she says, her voice softening, though it's still slurred. "And I care about you too, Spence. A whole lot. But you don't gotta... stress all the time, you know? I'm not goin' anywhere. Not yet, anyway." She chuckles softly, her eyes half-closed.

I glance over at her, her words hitting me despite the alcohol muddling them. I nod, more to myself than to her. "Yeah. I know. I just... I don't want anything to happen to you."

She reaches out, trying to pat my arm but mostly just hitting air. "Nothin's gonna happen to me, silly. I'm a shark, remember?"

I smile, shaking my head. "Yeah, sure you are."

She's quiet for a few moments, and I think she's finally fallen asleep, but then she suddenly sits up again, eyes wide. "Spence... do you think... I could be a *real* shark one day?"

I blink at her, completely caught off guard by the question. "What?"

"A real shark," she repeats, her eyes dead serious. "You know, like... in the ocean, swimming around, bein' all sharky."

I stifle a laugh, trying to stay composed. "I think you've had enough drinks for tonight, Stephie."

She grins, leaning her head on my shoulder, and this time she stays there, her voice quieter as she mumbles, "Yeah... probably..."

As we continue driving, her breathing evens out, and she finally drifts off to sleep, snoring softly. I lean back, glancing out the window, a mix of amusement and relief settling over me.

Hotch catches my eye in the rearview mirror, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You okay back there, Reid?"

I chuckle quietly. "Yeah. I think I'll survive."

At least until the morning when I have to hear Steph complain about her hangover.

————————-AN: you guys deserved a happy moment.