Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds. I do own Angela and Roy Goddard.

Summary: The first time we saw him, we knew that Spencer Reid was meant to be our son, but that was more than twenty years ago. Now, we're back to claim what is rightfully ours.

The timeline has been shifted by one year. I know that Reid is supposed to be twenty-nine, but for this fic, I'm putting him at thirty-one.

Contains: Copious amounts of Reid!Whumpage (ty Bri for the tip)

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He was seven years old when she had first met him. Angela had just accepted the post of the freshman Biology teacher at the high school, and Spencer Reid had become her favorite student. He was bright, intelligent, innocent, and as cute as a button, all qualities that she adored in anyone. Likewise, she had become his favorite teacher, and when he was being bullied, or when family issues plagued him, he would confide in her, his favorite teacher, the lovely Ms. Wiley. She was like the older sister he never had, and he felt safe in her presence.

He was eight-and-a-half years old when we had gotten married, and Ms. Wiley was now Mrs. Goddard. Even though she wasn't his teacher anymore, Spencer still confided in her, and took refuge in her classroom when the older kids bullied him. She gave him words of motivation and helped guide him through the social nightmare of high school.

He was nine years old when we had learned that Angela was infertile. Angela was devastated. She loved children, and she yearned to be surrounded by a family of her own, but that desire was cut down far too easily. That day, something in her broke. Something in me broke, too. I tried to calm her down, but nothing worked. She wanted a child to love. I suggested adoption. She disagreed, saying that the child would feel like a stranger.

He was almost ten years old when the junior year started, and when Angela saw him again, she knew that he was the one who was meant for her. I had told her that he was probably part of a loving family, but she had told me his story, of how his father had left him and his mother, and how his mother was sick and often forgot who he was.

He was ten years old when I was introduced to him, and I immediately saw what Angela was talking about. Spencer was quiet, polite, and intelligent, everything I ever wanted in a perfect son. That moment, I knew that he was to be ours.

He was ten-and-a-half years old when we began to plan how to take him. Angela would promise him a lunch at the local deli for a friendly get-together, and she would direct him to our car, and then tell him that she needed to pick something up from her classroom. Then, I would snatch him from where he stood, and somehow, just somehow, we'd convince him that we were his parents. We hadn't figured that part out yet, but we didn't care. As long as he was ours, we were happy.

He was bordering on eleven years old when we deployed our plan. If only he hadn't yelled, the plan would have worked. The police arrived, and I was arrested, charged with second degree kidnapping.

He was eleven years old when I received twenty years in prison time for second degree kidnapping.

He was thirty-one years old when I was let out.

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I thought about having only Roy put in prison, so he comes out bitter and cold, and Angela, who is also bitter from having to spend so much time away from her husband, takes them both to Virginia to hunt Reid down.