The Last Best Days, Hotch/Rossi, NC-17 (3/21)

[innerslytherin]

Title: The Last Best Days
Author: innerslytherin and severity_softly
Artist: tli
Pairing: Hotch/Rossi
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 147,800
Summary: Futurefic--Shortly before Dave turns sixty, he is diagnosed with a grade III brain tumor. He and Aaron have to come to terms with what this means for their relationship. Eventually the team has to help Aaron say goodbye.
Notes: Heavy angst. Lots of medical detail. Character death. This fic would not exist without the extensive help, support, encouragement, and hand-holding from resolucidity, who served as our medical consultant throughout.

Master post



Chapter Three

Doctor Franji had referred Dave to a neuro-oncology specialist named Morgan, and from Aaron's perspective the whole appointment had gone badly, from the moment Dave said, "Don't I know someone named Morgan?" and had to be reminded it was Derek's last name. It had left Dave visibly shaken, and then Aaron had had to explain to Doctor Morgan about Derek Morgan.

Dave had been oddly belligerent, arguing over the suggestion that the sooner surgery took place, the better. Once Aaron got him to agree to that, Dave started in on whether Johns Hopkins or the Cancer Institute would be the best place for treatment. Finally Aaron looked at Doctor Morgan and said, "Could we have a moment, please?" and effectively threw the doctor out of his own office so they could talk.

Aaron turned and stared at Dave. "I realize this isn't easy, but he is trying to help you."

Dave scowled at him. "What, I'm not allowed to participate in my own treatment here?"

"No, but arguing with the doctor isn't going to help anything," Aaron protested.

"I'm not arguing, I'm just...you know, being involved." Dave's scowl deepened.

Aaron sighed. "When we go on a case," he said, "we've seen it all before, and we tell people how to properly respond. And when they don't, they sometimes get hurt." He took Dave's hand and squeezed. "He's seen this before; he knows what he's talking about, so will you trust him?" It wasn't so much a question as it was a plea.

Dave stared at him for several heartbeats, his jaw working. Then Aaron saw him relax and swallow, and he nodded. "Yeah, okay," Dave said hoarsely. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Aaron knew Dave was struggling; he was scared and probably felt out of control of his own life. Aaron lifted their joined hands and kissed Dave's knuckles.

Dave's fingers tightened in Aaron's and he held Aaron's gaze for a long time. Then he stood up and went to open the door. "I'm done being a jackass for a while, Doc," he said. Doctor Morgan came back in, all graciousness about the interruption, and the appointment went more smoothly after that. Aaron was grateful that the doctor took the time to actually sit with them and explain all their options; he'd had appointments himself where the doctor was still talking on his way out the door to the next patient. Then again, a brain tumor was more serious than routine physicals.

By the time Dave and Aaron left, they had a plan for Dave's treatment. They went out for lunch and talked about everything except the fact that in three days time Dave would be going under the knife. When Dave had finished everything but his milkshake, he finally brought up the subject.

"We need to tell the team now."

Aaron watched Dave for a moment, then nodded slowly. "How do you want to do it? I don't think it's appropriate to bring up the first time at work," he said.

Dave rubbed his forehead. He'd been doing that a lot lately, and Aaron couldn't tell if it was because his head hurt him, or if he was just thinking. "Invite them over. Make sure we have their various alcoholic beverages on hand, and fix up the spare room in case we all end up getting trashed together?" He snorted.

Aaron smiled weakly. "It's better than going out and getting trashed." Everyone on the team cared about Dave, and Aaron knew some of them would be devastated. He particularly worried about Spencer. "I don't have anything better."

Apparently Dave was worried about Spencer too, because his next words were, "Do, uh...do you think I oughtta tell Spencer ahead of the others?" He scraped his straw around the inside of the glass. "You said he was worried about me before."

Aaron shook his head. "He was, but it might be better if everyone is there. He'll feel more like he has people to lean on," Aaron said. "I hope."

Dave nodded. "Yeah. Could you talk to them, see if they'll come out to the house?" He fiddled with his glass. "This is going to be awful."

"Yeah," Aaron agreed, both to the sentiment and to calling them. "Tonight?"

"The sooner the better, I guess. If that's okay with you."

Aaron nodded, and as they lingered over their drinks, Aaron got out his phone and started making the calls. Everyone seemed both confused and worried, and Aaron couldn't blame them; between his and Dave's absences and the sudden impromptu meeting at Dave and Aaron's house, Aaron knew he would have been worried too in their position.

When he and Dave got home, they changed the sheets on the guest bedroom's beds, just in case, then played the waiting game until the team arrived, distracting themselves with a movie. Dave was already drinking, just a little.

Spencer was the first one to arrive. That didn't surprise Aaron, but the fact that he was fifteen minutes early made things awkward; he still thought it was best that they told the whole team together. It turned out to not matter, though, because Morgan and Prentiss arrived together two minutes after Spencer, and JJ and Garcia were following them.

Dave answered the door, giving everyone smiles that looked genuine to Aaron, even though Aaron knew perfectly well that Dave was virtually sick with nerves over how this was going to go. It still impressed Aaron how well Dave had learned to work with the team and had gone further to make the team part of his family, but at the same time it made it more difficult to tell them this.

Aaron had directed everyone to make themselves a drink if they wanted one and make themselves comfortable, but no one looked comfortable at all, and Aaron noticed only Dave, Morgan and JJ were taking advantage of the alcohol.

Once everyone was just standing around talking quietly, Aaron touched Spencer's shoulder and nodded at the couch for Spencer to sit. He saw Prentiss' eyebrows raise at that, then she claimed a seat too.

"So thanks for coming," Dave said, looking uncomfortable. "Here, JJ, go ahead and sit." He gestured Garcia and Morgan to chairs as well, then took a long sip of his drink. "So, uh...there's no good way to do this. Spencer, first of all, thanks for being concerned about me. If you hadn't said anything to Aaron, I'd probably still be denying anything was wrong." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Since you did, I...ah, hell. Thing is, I've got a brain tumor."

Everyone just stared, looking stunned for a moment that felt like it was too long, as if time had slowed, and Aaron heard Spencer suck in a slow breath, though it surprised him when Spencer was the first to speak. "That's one I hadn't thought of," he said, his voice sounding far away and strange.

Aaron swallowed hard. "He's going to be having surgery in three days. We thought it was better to tell you all sooner rather than later."

Dave went over and touched Spencer's shoulder. "I would have kept ignoring it if you hadn't said something," he said quietly. "So thanks. And thanks, you know, for worrying about me."

Spencer looked up at him, but didn't speak.

"This is why you forgot what you were saying during the profile that last case," Morgan said. His voice was tight.

Dave nodded.

"Oh my God," Garcia finally said. Her eyes were glassy. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"We didn't think anything of it," Prentiss said, but Morgan shook his head.

"We were tryin' not to think anything of it."

Spencer huffed an unhappy laugh, but still didn't speak as he got up and made himself a drink, filling his glass with scotch a little fuller than was probably a good idea.

Dave shrugged. "Hey, I was trying not to think anything of it," he said. "My cat's still pissed off at me because I started forgetting to feed him. But I just thought it was overwork, you know. Mister Drill Sergeant here keeps us all so busy."

No one laughed. Aaron felt bad for Dave, since he was obviously trying to lighten the mood, but he didn't blame the others. There really was no way to lighten the mood when you had to give people news like this.

"Three days?" JJ asked slowly. "I'll make sure our schedule's clear."

Aaron thought about protesting, but they really should all be there. He nodded. "I probably won't be back at least until he's recovered from surgery, if not longer. I can't keep Constant away from his own team, however, so I'm going to recommend Morgan to lead the team in my absence. What Strauss does with that is her call, but I highly doubt she has any desire to return to the field." He rubbed his forehead, his lips thinning. "I have every faith in you all, and that you will be perfectly fine without us for a short time, and I'm a phone call away if you need me to consult on something." He hadn't discussed it with Dave on purpose; he didn't want an argument over it.

He saw the surprise flicker across Dave's face, then Morgan's, but Morgan was nodding instantly. "Yeah, yeah. Anything you need from me, man, you got it."

"From any of us," Prentiss added, reaching up to touch Dave's arm. After a moment she stood up and hugged Dave, surprising Aaron. Of course, she and Dave had been close for years. Dave made a quiet noise and hugged her back.

Morgan drained his glass and got up to refill it, then hit the wall with the side of his fist. "God damn it!" he growled. Aaron didn't miss the way Garcia jumped in reaction.

"I'd rather not have to replace drywall," Aaron said, though his voice was placid. He understood that Morgan reacted like this, and wasn't angry. "I have enough to worry about."

Spencer finished his scotch and stood to refill it.

"Spencer," Aaron said, his voice cautioning, but Morgan interrupted.

"Leave him."

"What does the prognosis look like?" JJ asked.

Prentiss finally pulled away from Dave and wiped a hand across her cheeks. He rubbed her shoulder and sat her back down on the couch, then went to get a drink.

"Not horrible," he said, pouring the bourbon as he spoke. "Surgery in three days and probably chemotherapy, maybe radiation, for a while after. Hell, I might be back to work and making you all miserable before the summer's over." He handed the drink to Prentiss, who took a long sip, then stared down at her glass.

"You don't make us miserable," Spencer muttered, gulping his drink.

Morgan huffed a laugh. "What team have you been workin' on, Reid?" Aaron was relieved when Spencer glanced over at Morgan and smiled, a weak, sad smile, but it was something.

"Shit, I'll have to try harder when I get back, then," Dave said, and exchanged a long look with Morgan. He nodded once and glanced over at Aaron. He hadn't told them that the radiologist suspected it was a Grade III tumor. Maybe they didn't know to ask. Aaron wasn't sure if he should push Dave on that or not. It could be worse, that much was true, but it could definitely be a lot better.

"I need you guys to make sure Aaron takes care of himself, huh?" Dave said, glancing around at them. "Because he'll lie to me about that if he thinks I won't notice."

Aaron shook his head. "I'm not the one having brain surgery. I'll be fine."

"We'll take care of both of you," Garcia said. She got up and hugged Dave too. Aaron supposed there was going to be a lot of that today. Dave patted Garcia's back, looking over her head at Aaron, then at Spencer.

Aaron followed his gaze; Spencer was pouring himself another drink. He ought to say something, but he couldn't bring himself to. This was how he and Dave had reacted, after all. And Morgan seemed to be keeping an eye on Spencer.

"You'll tell us anything we can do?" JJ prompted him. "We'll all be there Friday, of course. I'll take care of feeding you." She gave him a sad smile, but he understood. For JJ, organizing was therapeutic. It was how she dealt with things.

Spencer seemed to have found his voice suddenly because he turned around to look at Dave and demanded, "What grade?"

Aaron saw Dave flinch, which meant everyone else probably noticed it too. Dave cleared his throat. "He's not sure, but he suspects it's grade three." He held Spencer's gaze.

Spencer clenched his jaw and looked away, then drained more of his glass. "Has it metastasized anywhere else? Of course it hasn't, brain cancer doesn't metastasize. But they think it's malignant?"

"They think so. It's in the frontal lobe." Dave's mouth worked, but he didn't say anything else.

"Do they think they're going to be able to get all of it?" Spencer asked. His frown looked almost painful, and Aaron didn't miss that the rest of the team was all watching him too.

"Doctors Franji and Morgan are both guardedly optimistic," Dave said. "The chemotherapy ought to take care of anything they don't get. We'll know a lot more after surgery."

Spencer pressed his lips together and shook his head slowly, then poured himself another drink and practically threw himself in Dave's recliner, slumping. Aaron had lost count of how many drinks he'd had, but Spencer wasn't really hiding how upset he was at all anymore.

"You know, I kinda want to take a walk," Dave said. "I need some fresh air. You want to come with me?" He was looking at Spencer, and Aaron could tell the rest of the team understood. Dave hadn't replaced Gideon in Spencer's affection, but he'd definitely become important to him. He'd never treated Spencer any differently than he treated the others, and maybe that was why. Aaron knew Dave watched out for Spencer; he just did it in a different way than the rest of them.

Spencer just stared at his glass. "You don't need to coddle me."

"You damn well better know I'm not trying to coddle you," Dave retorted. "I just want to get some fresh air. Hell, who knows, one of these days I might forget how to find my way back home. Aaron'll feel better if I have a babysitter."

Aaron rolled his eyes, and Spencer gave Dave a dark look. After a moment, though, he just heaved a sigh, drained his glass, and stood. "Fine."


***

Dave had no idea what he was doing. Well, currently, he was walking along the sidewalk, half-drunk, with Spencer, who was probably more than half-drunk. But Dave really had no idea what he was doing.

How did you make someone feel better about something you didn't feel very good about yourself? How did you tell hopeful half-truths to someone who obviously knew more about cancer than you did? Most of all, how did you let your friend know it was okay to be unhappy?

Hell, Dave was still swinging back and forth between thinking this was just another thing he was going to conquer, and asking God why him, why now.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat, but didn't say anything. He didn't figure he needed to say anything. Eventually Spencer would start talking. And if he hadn't started talking by the time they reached the furthest part of the loop, Dave would say something to try to get him talking.

Spencer was staring at the sidewalk, but he wasn't managing to walk quite in a straight line and Dave wondered if he was looking down so he didn't trip. It felt like forever before Spencer finally said, "You're not coming back."

"Not coming back?" Dave frowned in confusion. Not coming back to what? He reached out and touched Spencer's elbow lightly.

"To the BAU," Spencer said, his words slow and measured, more from alcohol than caution, Dave thought.

"I intend to," Dave said. "Hell, you guys are as important to me as the rest of my family, you ought to know that. More important than some of my family. Crazy Uncle Jerome comes to mind." Or was Spencer just putting polite words on the fact that he understood the situation better than Dave did, and Dave wasn't going to survive this?

Spencer shook his head, then swayed and Dave tightened his hand on Spencer's elbow. "You've already retired once. You're nearly sixty, and you're going to get sick. Antineoplastic drugs--chemotherapy--destroys cells that divide rapidly, like cancer cells, but it doesn't differentiate between normal and abnormal ones." Okay, so maybe Spencer wasn't being polite.

Dave grunted a laugh. "Don't sugar-coat it for me," he said.

Spencer didn't appear bothered, he just muttered petulantly, "It's not fair."

"Fair for me, or fair for you?" Dave asked. "I got used to things not being fair a long time ago." Though he'd just in the past six or seven years started to feel like his life was where it belonged, both personally and professionally. There was a large part of him that wanted to throw himself to the ground and bang his fists and kick and shout that it wasn't fair.

Spencer just huffed a laugh. "Me too, but that doesn't make it any better." He didn't say anything after that, he just looked away, the wind whipping his hair around until Dave heard him sniff loudly. Spencer lifted a hand to wipe at his cheek.

Dave held in a sigh and wrapped an arm around Spencer's shoulders. It was awkward, with Spencer so much taller than he was, but Dave didn't care. "I'm sorry, kid," he muttered, even though Spencer was in his mid-thirties and no one called him 'kid' any more. "God, I'm so sorry."

"Why are you apologizing for having cancer?" Spencer asked, his voice starting to shake. "You shouldn't be drinking, by the way. Alcohol is carcinogenic."

"Well, hell, it can't do any harm at this point," Dave said. He stopped walking and pulled Spencer into a hug. "I'm apologizing because it seems like the thing to do. I never wanted you to have to go through this. Or Aaron. Or any of you." He hadn't actually cried about this himself. He wasn't sure if that made him abnormal or not. Aaron had fought it, but even he had shed a few tears, late last night. Dave, though, was almost painfully dry-eyed.

Spencer had tensed at first, as much as he could drunk, then wrapped his arms around Dave and buried his face against Dave's neck, melting against him. "Well, stop apologizing, then. Just makes me feel worse; I should be... I should... I don't know what I should be."

Dave let out a rusty chuckle. "Well, that makes two of us," he said, and sighed. "I feel abnormal because I'm doing things like going to a diner for lunch and making out with my lover, when I ought to be...I don't know what, but something else." He petted Spencer's hair, wishing he knew what to say. His throat was feeling tight, but there were no tears coming.

"You shouldn't be comforting me," Spencer said, and pulled back. His eyes were red-rimmed and he wobbled a little. "I need to sit," he added, then did just that, gracelessly sitting on the sidewalk and crossing his legs.

Dave looked at him for a second, then sat down next to him. He propped his chin on his hands and glanced over at Spencer. "I'm scared shitless," he admitted finally. "I don't know what's going to happen to me, and I don't know how Aaron's going to handle it." He sighed. "And frankly, I hate seeing you hurting. I hate knowing that you're hurting because I'm sick, and I'm completely powerless to fix it." He rubbed his hand over his face. "I hope to God you know how much I love you, kid."

"'f'you love me so much, you wouldn't've let me drink so much scotch," Spencer said, dropping his head in his hands, and Dave couldn't help but laugh a little. "Why are you calling me kid all of a sudden?"

Dave rubbed his shoulders, then pulled Spencer over against him. "I guess because if I'd had a kid, I'd have wanted him to be like you. I'm proud to have worked with you and called you my friend, Spencer."

"Oh God, now you're talking like you're dying," Spencer grumbled, but he had completely relaxed against Dave's side.

"Huh. Maybe I just want to make sure everybody knows how I really feel. Just in case." Dave thought about that for a minute. "Or maybe I'm just realizing that I ought to be a little more open with my feelings, because hell, you never know. I could get hit by a bus tomorrow instead of going to brain cancer."

Spencer sighed, but didn't say anything. He didn't move either, so Dave just let him be still for a moment, his breathing heavy. After a little while, Dave heard Spencer suck in a breath and hold it, then let it out in a gust. "I love you too."

Dave smiled and tousled Spencer's hair the way he would have done to Jack. "We ought to see if we can stumble back home," he said. "Or Morgan might come looking for us. He's like that because he cares, you know. He just doesn't know any better way to show it than to try to take care of the people he loves."

"I know that," Spencer mumbled. He shoved his fingers through his hair and pulled away, frowning deeply. "Really should probably go back. I think I might be sick."

"Oh, God, don't do that," Dave said, standing up and hauling Spencer to his feet. "Watching other people throw up triggers my gag reflex."

"Mine too," Spencer said, and slumped against Dave once he was standing, his arm draped over Dave's shoulder.

Dave snorted. "Okay, we'll just stagger home very carefully together," he said. "With no throwing up at all." He got them turned so they were headed in the right direction, and couldn't help feeling relieved that he still knew it was the right direction.

"Maybe it's kind of a relief to have an answer about what's causing these shitty memory moments," he muttered, thinking of the utter panic that had rushed through him when he'd been standing in front of a thirty-person police shift and completely unable to think of the word he wanted to use.

"Yeah, too bad it's completely overshadowed by terror," Spencer pointed out.

"Hey, you weren't staring at thirty frustrated cops trying to think of the damn word," Dave pointed out. "You want terrifying, try that."

"I was talking about yours, not mine."

"I know. So was I." Dave guided Spencer away from the curb and took satisfaction that, even with a brain tumor, he held his liquor better than Spencer. "Those moments of confusion scared the shit out of me. I was just trying to hide it because I figured it was stress."

"Ngh," Spencer said, and Dave was afraid he really might throw up for a moment, until Spencer added, "I though it might be early-onset Alzheimers."

"God. I'd rather have a brain tumor. They can do something about that," Dave said. After a moment he snorted. "You know, there were times my second wife suggested I could benefit from a lobotomy."

Spencer laughed quietly, then shook his head. His face fell. "I'd share my brain with you if I could," he muttered.

Dave grinned. "God, I can't imagine being as smart as you. I'm afraid I'd use that power irresponsibly. I'd head straight for Vegas and play the poker tables." He patted Spencer's shoulder. "You're a really good man, Spencer."

"I guess so," Spencer said, then blurted, "You can't die."

Dave stopped walking, his eyes stinging unexpectedly. "I really don't want to," he said, tightening his arm around Spencer. "God, I can't even tell you how much I don't want to die."

"You can't," Spencer repeated, then sniffed loudly. "You just... can't. If you never come back to the BAU, I would miss you, but you can't die."

"Well, trust me, I'll do my best." Dave turned and hugged Spencer tightly. "Anyway, if I don't come back to the BAU, you can always drop in and see me. I'll need someone to point out the flaws in my next book."

"What're you writing?" Spencer asked, though he didn't sound like his heart was in it.

"Nothing right now. They put that in my contract when I came back. But hey, if I retire again, I'm free to write whatever I want. Maybe I'll write an expose on the status of non-straight-people in the FBI." Dave patted Spencer on the shoulder and started them walking again. "Probably not. I guess if I had to pick a book to write, at this moment in time, I'd probably write something about Zoe Hawkes."

Spencer glanced over at him, letting Dave guide him and not watching where he was going. "Still?"

Dave hitched one shoulder in a shrug. "I'm Catholic. We're good at guilt." He gave Spencer a lopsided smile. "But honestly, she was a smart girl who did a stupid thing, and I was a smart man who stupidly dismissed her, and the killer...was lost. I don't know, the case has stuck with me, but it hasn't haunted me the way the Indianapolis case did. It's just that...I dunno, I think people ought to know about her."

Spencer nodded. It had been so long ago that Dave doubted the details were still clear to him, but Spencer said, "Did her mom ever forgive you?"

"Actually she's written to me a few times," Dave said. Always on the anniversary of Zoe's death, but they weren't actually hostile letters. They were within sight of the house now. He hoped Spencer could keep going without throwing up. He wondered how the rest of the team would be when they got back. God, he hoped he hadn't hurt anyone's feelings by going off with Spencer alone, but he didn't think that would be the case.

"Good," Spencer said. "Can't write about her if you can't find out more." He hummed and put more weight on Dave. "Can I take a nap in your guest bedroom?"

Dave chuckled. "Sure." He made a mental note to get some water and aspirin into Spencer before sending him to bed. "Hell, you can stay the night. The sheets are clean."

"I might do that," Spencer slurred. "Don't really want to leave you." Dave wondered if Spencer was going to remember saying this. He'd grown a lot more comfortable in his skin over the last several years, but he was still extremely cautious about love and relationships.

"That's fine," was all Dave said. He turned them up the front walk and Morgan came out to meet them.

"Doing okay?" he asked, getting on Spencer's other side and putting an arm around Spencer's waist.

"He's fine," Dave said. "I think we were both a little ambitious with the walking idea, after all the scotch we had."

Morgan chuckled, then looked upset that he'd done so. "Let's go get some water in you two, then."

"I just want to lie down," Spencer groaned. "It's hot out here. Are you two hot? It's hot."

Dave looked at Morgan. "It's not really hot. Come on, the guest bedroom's set up." He and Morgan guided Spencer that way, while Dave prayed that Spencer wasn't going to throw up.

Spencer just made wordless groans as they passed the others in the living room, and they got Spencer in bed, though Spencer flung off all the covers and sprawled out on his back, his lanky body taking up the entire queen-sized bed. "Oh God, Morgan, make the spinning stop."

Morgan tried to hide a smile, but failed. "I don't think I can, pretty boy," he said. "You want me to sit in here with you for a while?"

"Yesssssss," Spencer whined. "Geda trash can. Dave can't stay; he'll throw up too."

"Oh my God," Morgan said, sounding appalled. Dave gestured to the trash can by the dresser, then retreated. Fortunately he made it to the living room without hearing anything, and when he got there, he sat on the couch next to Aaron.

"I suggest you all steer clear of Spencer tomorrow," he said. "He's going to have one hell of a headache."

Aaron sighed heavily. "I knew he wasn't going to take this well. Is he okay?"

Dave shrugged. "He will be. Morgan's with him, so if he needs help, he has it." He glanced around at everyone else in the room, wondering what Aaron had told them in his absence. After a moment he shrugged, grinning faintly. "So. Anyone else feel like getting drunk? Spencer'll probably be willing to share the bed."

Garcia got up and punched him on the shoulder. Fortunately she didn't really hit hard, but he rubbed his shoulder anyway and glared at her. "Don't make fun of him," she said, and appallingly, there were tears in her eyes. "We should all be getting drunk. We all love you."

Prentiss dropped her head into her hands. "This sucks," she announced.

Dave sighed. "Yeah, pretty much."

***


Aaron woke the next morning with a vague sense that something was odd. He mentally took stock of himself before moving: he was wrapped securely in Dave's arms, which was good. He was wearing boxers and an undershirt, which was unusual but not unheard-of. He really needed to pee, which wasn't at all unusual at his age. His head was throbbing. Ah.

Right, they'd gotten drunk the day before. Aaron shifted out of Dave's embrace and made his way to the bathroom. When he was finished there, he stole Dave's bathrobe and headed out to the kitchen. The guest bedroom door was shut, which he assumed meant Spencer was still here, and possibly Derek. Emily was curled up on the sofa, the blanket tucked up under her chin.

JJ and Garcia hadn't spent the night--JJ because she had to get home to Henry, and Garcia because she'd grabbed JJ's arm and asked for a ride home. Aaron had a feeling Penelope just didn't know how to react right now, and she was possibly reliving some of the emotions she'd experienced when she lost her parents. Dave had hugged her, and Aaron had noticed she was in tears again when she left.

God, his head was killing him. He really shouldn't have let things happen like this last night. Especially since the team was already down two men...and now at least three team members were going to be working hung over. Aaron sighed and got the coffee-maker started.

Emily was the first one to appear. She was dressed, except for her shoes, and her shirt was untucked, but she was brushing back her hair and smiling sheepishly.

"Hi," she said quietly. "Um, could I just take a cup of coffee with me? I need to stop at home before I go to work."

Aaron nodded and let her go. Hell, he wasn't sure what to say to Dave sometimes; he could understand why the team members were uncertain. They'd take the time they needed to adjust, and then they'd be back.

He knew if he went out to the living room he would find that Emily had tidied it up before going. He just stared into the sink and wondered what this was going to do to the BAU family.

He heard Dave's footsteps, but didn't turn. Strong arms went around him and Dave's lips brushed his neck. "Woke up alone," he complained. "And horny, by the way."

Aaron rolled his eyes. "That's unusual," he said, irony lacing his words. "Though the question is how; you drank more than I did last night."

"Maybe brain tumors keep you from feeling the effects of alcohol," Dave murmured. He nibbled the spot under Aaron's ear. "Or maybe I'm just more of a man than you are."

"Mmm, really?" Aaron murmured, repressing a shiver from the feel of Dave's lips and teeth on him. "You're not just saying that so I'll take you back to bed and prove how much of a man I really am, are you?"

Dave chuckled low in his ear. "I dunno, is it working?" he asked, sliding a hand down to curl at Aaron's hip. "You owe me, since you wouldn't fuck me with guests in the house."

"Oh my-- Sorry, sorry."

Aaron hadn't heard Spencer walk in, but he turned just in time to see a red-faced Spencer dart back out of the kitchen. Aaron shot a glance at Dave, then pressed an hand to his forehead. "Spencer," he called, his voice loud enough to be heard, but gentle. "It's fine. How are you feeling?" he asked, hoping he could deflect from what Spencer had just heard.

"Oops," Dave said, his voice all innocence. He pulled away from Aaron and left them room. A minute later he came back with one arm around Spencer's shoulders. He guided Spencer to the table and sat him down, glancing at Aaron, who just shook his head and placed a cup of coffee in front of them both.

Dave took a seat at the table too. "How are you feeling?" he pressed, looking at Spencer in concern.

Spencer sucked in a breath and stared at his coffee until Aaron brought over the sugar and cream. "I can't decide if the shakes or the nausea is worse," he said, looking like it sort of hurt to make the effort to sweeten his coffee. "Morgan steals the sheets. I didn't notice last night when I was out of it, but I woke up cold, so I figured I'd get up. I'm-- I didn't mean to--"

Aaron could see Dave biting back a comment about Derek and Spencer and sheets, so he kicked Dave's ankle gently. Dave's lips pressed together more tightly for a second, then he said, "You didn't interrupt anything. Quit apologizing. I wouldn't have asked you to stay yesterday if I hadn't wanted you here."

"I-- did-- I... can you talk quieter, please?" Spencer finally said.

Aaron smiled and shook his head. "I'll get some Tylenol. I think we all need it."

Dave chuckled and patted Spencer's arm, but just sipped his coffee as Aaron went for the Tylenol. They were living their lives, almost as usual, and it felt bizarre to Aaron, but he couldn't say what he thought they should be doing. Just...not this. Not drinking coffee and teasing a coworker with a hangover.

"I'm not gonna have to have the guest room sanitized, am I?" Dave was asking quietly when Aaron got back to the table.

"I think it's pretty well contained. Don't make me think about it." Spencer sipped his coffee, looking miserable. "Did you know brain tumors and elevated intracranial pressure can sometimes cause vomiting?"

"Huh. I do now." Dave raised his eyebrows and glanced over at Aaron. "What is it that's supposed to be good for hangovers? There's...what, shit, it's food, it's..." He paused and rubbed his forehead, scowling at the table.

There was an odd, breathless silence as Dave obviously blanked on what he was trying to say, then Spencer said, in a small voice, "Greasy breakfast?"

"Yeah, that," Dave grumbled, and drank his coffee without looking at the other two.

Spencer dropped his head to the table. "Not sure I should eat," he muttered, his voice muffled, and Aaron glanced up when Morgan stumbled into the kitchen doorway.

"At least Morgan has the decency to make noise when he walks," Dave groused.

Spencer groaned and Morgan frowned at Dave. "What?"

"Nothing," Aaron said quickly. "Coffee?"

"Please," Morgan said, slumping down at the table. "Do you have Tylenol or something? I got a bruise I don't remember having. Someone needs to learn to share the bed."

Dave coughed, the noise sounding suspiciously like it was covering a laugh. Aaron rolled his eyes and got up to pour Morgan some coffee.

"Be nice," Dave admonished. "Spencer's not feeling good."

"Mrr," Spencer groaned, and lifted a middle finger in Morgan's general direction.

Derek chuckled and ruffled Spencer's hair. "It's okay, pretty boy. You'll forgive me." He stretched and yawned. "If you point me in the direction of the frying pan, I'd be happy to do omelets for everybody."

"That's assuming we're going to feed you," Dave said.

Aaron chuckled. "We are if it means I don't have to cook," he said. Dave had always been the better cook between them; he'd spent more years as a bachelor with good taste than Aaron. "Pan's up there," he said, pointing at the cabinet, then he went to the refrigerator to get eggs and stuff to put in the omelets. He grabbed some bread for toast and put it in the toaster so it was ready when the meal was almost done, and started to set the table as Morgan helped himself around the kitchen.

Dave spent the whole time sipping coffee and splitting his attention between Spencer and Morgan. When everyone had plates in front of them and Morgan was joining them at the table, Dave grinned. "Funny, I would've sworn the story I got when I first came back was that you almost burned your house down trying to cook one time."

"It wasn't me," Spencer said as Derek shot a glare at him. Derek turned the glare on Dave, who just smiled placidly back.

"You know, it ain't right to criticize a man when he's just made you breakfast," Derek said, and poured himself another cup of coffee.

Comments

[thelana.livejournal.com]

Awwww, so much team love in this chapter why am I sure that JJ went home and hugged her kid really right?

And I just love the humor strewn into it, from Dave's gallows humor to Reid walking in on sex talk. Rossi is such a fighter, it's just not faaaaaaaair! And the Dave/Reid comfort scene was just extremely awesome.

And I just love the mental visual of the team getting trashed together. I'm sorry if my comments are a bit superficial. My family doesn't tend to tend towards cancer so I have basically no experience with it. And my parents are still alive while my grandparents died at a time where I still had little concept of it. Which doesn't keep my from bawling like a baby at certain chapters. However, this was a relatively happy chapter, so why do I dread that the next one will be gutting again?

Fearless prediction: Cancer treatment seems to work, they get a bit of glory time and then it comes back in the end :(

[innerslytherin]

The humor was really important to us. We wanted to make sure that we handled this realistically, and there are a lot of good moments as well as bad during a journey like this.

I'm really grateful for all your comments! It's great to see your reactions to each chapter. :)

[severity-softly.livejournal.com]

It's good to know this fic is touching on some level to people who haven't lived through something like this in they lives/families/etc. I know there have been a lot of tough times when my family has gone through similar things, but I think it's human nature to try to laugh about it to, when that can be managed. People would go crazy without it.