Spencer Reid | Oneshots

Practice Run ☁️ (G)

Summary: Spencer and Reader take on Derek's challenge to babysit.

Rating: G

Content Warning: Pregnancy and motherhood mention, babies

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There were many things to hate about Spencer Reid. From his genius IQ to his marble sculpted jawline, I was envious of just about every aspect of my boyfriend's existence. It was infuriating, really, to constantly be forced to confront my own ineptitude on a daily basis.

This was never truer than the night I made the terrible, horrible mistake of agreeing to babysit Hank Morgan.

Don't get me wrong— I love kids! At least... in theory. Okay, well, I love the idea of kids. It had grown stronger as of late. I assumed part of it was my biological clock, but I knew most of it was the fact that Spencer wanted kids.

Anyone who had seen him with a baby would understand the way I felt. No matter what I did, I don't think I could have ever made him as happy as he was when he held one. Even when it was squirming and screaming, there was an unmistakable glow about him.

How could I not want to see that look every day? There was nothing that made me happier than Spencer being happy. And besides, I knew I wanted kids one day, too. I'd just been... stalling.

Every time the conversation came up, we'd both change the subject. Strangely, Spencer never looked sad when he did. Maybe it was just to protect me from my own guilt. Maybe it was because he knew deep down that I wanted to be a mother. Regardless, it was a conversation that was going to have to happen soon enough.

So, being the brilliant idiot that I am, I decided it would best happen after we had a practice run of sorts. After all, how bad could a six month old really be?

The answer, I learned, was very bad.

And after three failed attempts at a diaper change, the cat was out of the bag. The true reason for my intense fear of motherhood was on display for the very judgmental infant in my arms and my much-too-sweet boyfriend watching from the doorway.

I was absolutely terrible with kids.

Spencer had the decency not to draw attention to my struggle. Each time that I picked up a screaming Hank just to make him cry even harder, Spencer didn't even seem annoyed. He just took the boy and held him tight to his chest until the noises turned to playful coos and sleepy snores.

But I kept trying. I just wanted one win — one tiny success before the night was over. Again, Spencer was so supportive of my efforts. He would hand me the little bundle of joy and snot and try to teach me how to make him laugh.

Whoever said babies are clueless is an idiot. It was like he could read every doubt written across my face that tried to smile for him. Just as my eyes glazed over with tears born from frustration, so would Hank's.

It kept going like that for the whole three hours. By the end of it all, I almost couldn't even convince myself to smile for Derek and Savannah. I guess it was kind of stupid to pretend, anyway, considering one was a profiler and one was a painfully observant mother. Savannah definitely saw the exhaustion and panic clear as day, and with a simple, sympathetic smile, she took the baby from my arms for the final time that night.

"It gets easier. Promise," she whispered in my ear before taking off with the boy who'd stopped screaming the second that he'd felt her presence.

I tried to tell myself that she would know better than I would, but it was hard to feel anything positive after the complete disaster that was my practice run. Even Spencer didn't seem excited about having had the opportunity to play with a baby. The whole drive home, he mostly just looked... concerned. Like he was trying to come up with something to say, or some explanation for my sudden despair at my inability to placate a screaming child. It definitely wasn't the first time it had happened.