A. N. The relationship between Reid and his mother has always fascinated and inspired me. So it might be understandable that I felt shortchanged by 'Persuasion'. Very shortchanged.


I Am Here

"Yep, two."

One eyebrow went up on his godfather's face.

"Your Mom said you could have two bowls of ice cream. And popcorn?"

"Yep." Said with less certainty, and more pleading. Henry lifted wary eyes.

Not for the first time, Reid thought to himself, I'll never make it as a parent. Not to Henry, anyway. He could never say 'no' to either the little blonde….or his mother. As was his usual, he relented.

"All right. I guess it couldn't hurt." Especially since I know your eyes are bigger than your stomach.

He knew Henry was more excited about the idea of two bowls of his second-favorite food than he was about the fact of actually eating it. Reid put another scoop into Henry's bowl and brought it over to the sofa.

"This is fun, Uncle Spence! I love sleepovers!"

Reid smiled as he settled himself in next to Henry and picked up the remote. "Me too, Little Man."

Reid hit the button and brought the picture up on his TV screen. It had been Henry's choice this time, and he'd insisted on the latest version of 'Toy Story'. Reid's childhood had been so accelerated that he was unfamiliar with many of the 'stars' of the film, so Henry happily filled him in on each toy, and how they were used.

"Wow, Henry…do you actually have all these things?" Mostly Reid played with the blocks and science toys when he visited Henry's room.

"Naw. Toby has Woody, and Joey has Mr. Potato Head. But I have Buzz!"

It had been a JJ-advised birthday gift last year. "Trust me, Spence, he'll love it." So Reid had made the purchase, and been rewarded with a huge smile and the phrase that he now recited together with his godson: "To infinity and beyond!"

They watched together, equally engrossed in the story, until Henry emitted a huge yawn. To the little boy's protest, Reid paused the film.

"Let's get into our PJs and brush our teeth. Then we can watch the rest." He picked up Henry's half-eaten second bowl of ice cream and brought it to the kitchen.

Twenty minutes, much dawdling and a lively narrative about the rehearsal for school assembly later, Henry was pajama-clad, brushed, and ready for the rest of his movie. Reid pushed the remote once again and put his arm around his godson, pulling him in to snuggle. But the adventures of Buzz and Woody had barely resumed when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. It would be JJ, checking in on them.

"You want to say good night to your Mom, Buddy?" Reid asked as his thumb hit the screen. "Hi."

"Spencer?"

He stiffened immediately. Not JJ. Diana. His mother. Calling him.

"Mom?" He got up and walked away from Henry. Partly so he wouldn't interrupt the movie. And partly because one just never knew, with Diana. It was virtually unheard of for her to call him. All of her phone calls were supervised, as were those of all of the patients at Bennington. One never knew what a psychotic patient would do with an unsupervised phone call.

"Spencer?" There was an urgency to her voice, an excitement….and a trace of trepidation.

"Mom? Is that you?"

"Yes! Yes, it's me, Spencer. I… This is….. so wonderful! It's so wonderful, Spencer!"

It was so unusual to hear Diana Reid tripping over words. Even in the depths of her illness, she'd remained articulate. Reid had often wondered at the extent of his mother's IQ, that she could be so ill, and still retain such intelligence.

"Mom, I'm sorry I missed you a few weeks ago. You know, when we were in Vegas for a case."

"Oh, Spencer! I'm so sorry, too! I'm sorry I didn't see you, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I was away," And then, a change in tone. "I'm sorry I was who I was for so long…."

Now all he could hear was sobbing. Reid closed his eyes, trying to visualize the scene on the other end of the phone.

When they'd been called to Vegas, he'd tried unsuccessfully to get word to his mother. Then he'd been given the astounding news that she'd had a good response to a new medication regimen, and had been granted a supervised field trip. He'd not known exactly how to respond to that.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me, JJ. I mean….all this time, and she finally has a breakthrough. And she doesn't tell me?"

He was surprised at the turn of events, skeptical of the wisdom of the field trip…and a little bit hurt that Diana hadn't chosen to share the amazing development with him. Not to mention disconcerted that her psychiatrist hadn't discussed it with him first.

JJ had offered her analysis of the situation. "Are you upset because she doesn't need you any more, Spence? I mean, isn't this a good thing, if she's getting better?"

He'd been quick to agree with her, but he thought she was missing the point. As difficult as his childhood had been, Reid had always been sure of Diana's devotion to him. Another child might not have been able to see through her psychotic rants, but the young genius could. He knew how to tell when he was talking with his mother's demons and when he was talking with Diana. And he knew Diana loved him without question or condition. Always, even when she couldn't tell him so. And so, it made no sense to Reid that she would have had this miraculous event occur in her life, and not share it with him. Something wasn't right.

Now, in this phone conversation, it sounded like the rapid mood swings might be returning. Diana had gone from a tone of elation, to one of fear, to open sobbing, all in the space of several sentences.

"Mom? Mom, are you okay?"

He could hear her taking deep breaths, in an audible attempt to calm herself. From long experience, he knew to wait her out.

Finally, she was ready to speak again.

"I'm here. I'm here, Spencer. I am here. Your mother. Diana Reid. I'm here."

He heard the subtext. I exist. I'm validated. I'm a person again, and not just a diagnosis.

Now it was Reid biting back tears. The thing he'd prayed for, even when he hadn't seen a point to prayer. The thing he'd wanted most in the world. It was here. Diana was here. It was a moment before he could speak.

"Hi." Meeting his mother again, for the first time.

When she responded, he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Hello, Spencer. My son. I love you. I love you!"

It was as though she didn't trust the effect to last, and wanted to get the words out as quickly, and as often, as possible.

"I love you, too, Mom."

"Spencer, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm so sorry I wasn't here when you visited. But Dr. Norman and I thought the trip would be a good test. And there would be supervision…"

Now he laughed. He laughed, talking with his mother. Like any other son.

"Mom, how supervised can you be when you're on a mule heading straight down into the Grand Canyon?"

In response, the sound he'd literally not heard in decades. A giggle. From Diana Reid.

"You're right. What were they going to do, shoot a hypodermic into the donkey?"

As he laughed with her, the observer in Reid's brain began to function. Absurdity had been the lifelong norm in the relationship between mother and son. He flashed on what other sons and other mothers might converse about. Definitely not this.

"Mom…..why? Why didn't you tell me?"

A long silence, during which he could tell she was trying to keep herself composed.

"I was afraid, Spencer."

"Afraid?"

Reid had moved into the hallway, but he could see that the credits were now playing on the screen, and Henry would be looking for him in a moment.

"I was afraid that it wouldn't last. That I would disappoint you again…"

He closed his eyes and sighed. "Mom… you've never disappointed me. If anything, it was me…."

"Don't!"

He heard her anger, and was immediately repentant, for whatever it was that had triggered the response.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I…what don't you want me to do?"

She sounded firm now. "I don't want you to apologize for getting me the care I needed. I may not have understood it then, Spencer, but I do now. And I'm grateful. And sorry….for needing it."

Now he was firm. "Mom, you are not responsible for being ill. There's nothing to be sorry about. I'm just glad that you found something that helps you….and I wish I'd known about it."

There was some normalcy to their relationship, after all. The son resented his mother's not sharing her good fortune.

"I'm sorry, Spencer. I just didn't want to raise your hopes for something that might not last."

He heard something that he hadn't heard before. "Is there a reason you think it might not last?"

Now he could hear her sigh through the phone. "Dr. Norman tried it on another patient. It worked well enough for a few months…..but then poor Mr. Robson had a seizure. Dr. Norman says it's a risk with any psychiatric medication. They all work on the cerebral cortex, so any of them can trigger a seizure. This drug has a predilection for it."

Reid's head hung in disappointment. "So you may not be able to stay on it?"

Quietly, with a trace of resignation. "Only time will tell."

Time. So precious. So fleeting. So immediate…

"I'm coming out there."

"Oh, I hoped you'd say that. Spencer, I'd love…. I want… I need to see you. Please come, son."

"I'll talk to Hotch and arrange for some leave. I'll be out on Monday, or Tuesday at the latest."

"Uncle Spence?"

Diana heard the voice in the background. "Who's that?"

"It's Henry, my godson. You remember, don't you? He was born the same day…."

He cut himself off. He was born the same day you risked a relapse to convince me that Dad wasn't a murderer. Of course she wouldn't remember. She'd been off her meds, and the demons had caught up with her that same evening.

"He's JJ's son. We're having a sleepover." Reid moved back toward the sofa, to signal Henry he'd be only a minute.

Twenty four hundred miles away, Diana smiled. "You have a little boy in your life."

Reid smiled as well, looking at Henry. "I do. A pretty special little guy. A pretty tired one, too."

"Little boys are a gift from heaven, Spencer. I should know."

Reid's smile was wistful. "So are the Moms who love them. I love you, Mom. I'll see you in a couple of days."

"How many minutes, Spencer?"

He laughed now. It was an old routine for them. "Somewhere between four thousand three hundred and five thousand eight hundred."

"I'll see you then, son. I love you."

"Love you too."

Still ruminating on his conversation, Reid closed the rest of the distance between himself and Henry.

"Was that Mommy, Uncle Spence?"

"It was my Mommy, Henry."

"Your Mommy? Where does she live?"

"In a place called Las Vegas. It's pretty far away from here."

Henry had heard the last part of Reid's conversation. "Are you gonna visit her?"

"For a little bit, yeah. I haven't seen her in a long while."

"Do you miss her, Uncle Spence?" Henry couldn't imagine spending a long time away from his mother.

I've missed her for thirty-three years, Little Man. "Yeah, I do. So I need to go and see her." He reached down and picked up the little boy, treasuring the feel of small arms encircling his neck. "Come on, let's get to bed."

They skipped story time tonight, after the movie. But there were still prayers.

"And God bless Mommy, and Daddy, and Auntie Penelope and Uncle Spence, and Brownie. And Uncle Spence's Mommy, too," added the generous Henry.

Uh-oh. "Where is Brownie, by the way?" Reid was picturing a trip across town to get the little stuffed dog Henry still couldn't sleep without.

"In my pillow!" Henry pulled his second-best friend from the pillow case. "Mommy putted him there so I wouldn't forget."

Thank you, JJ.

"Your Mommy takes very good care of you, Little Man. She loves you very, very much."

"Yep!" Of course.

"Uncle Spence? Did your Mommy take good care of you, too? Did she love you very, very much?" Echoing his godfather's words.

Well, one out of two. That's not bad, right? "She loved me very much, Henry. Still does."

Reid's phone sounded again, and this time it was JJ, checking in. Reid let her say good night to Henry, and then assured her he'd have Henry home by noon tomorrow. He thought about sharing the phone call from Diana, but held back. For whatever reason, it seemed more appropriate to share it only with Henry this night. Two sons, loved by two mothers.

Reid put out the lights in his apartment, and slipped into bed beside the already-snoring Henry. He turned on his side, as though to keep vigil on the little boy throughout the night. But he knew it was only a gesture. This night, apart from all other nights, he couldn't wait to succumb to sleep. This night he would lie between the boy who loved him and the boy he'd once been, the one loved into being by a woman of inconceivable strength. And, at least for this one night, he knew he wouldn't have to be afraid of his dreams.