Status: Posting
Make It out Alive
Epilogue
"Daddy, what was my mom like?" The eight year old girl asked. Spencer Reid was used to being asked for bed time stories and being tucked in, but the thirty five year old genius was caught off guard by his daughter's question.
"Your mom?" he asked, sitting down on the child's bed. The room was still painted purple, but it had grown up, the books on the shelf were adult novels now, not children's books. The girl had followed in her father's footstep, and at age eight, she was in eighth grade. Everyday, he looked at his daughter and saw his late wife, Polly. Abigail Diana Reid was growing up to look just like her mother. "Your mom was the bravest, strongest, most beautiful woman I had ever met. She was funny, caring, and you look just like her," he told her.
"What was her favorite food?" she asked, tilting her head, a waterfall of black hair falling onto her pillow.
"Pizza, and fries with a milkshake," he answered, remembering with a smile.
"Where did she go to college?"
"She graduated top of her class from University of Michigan," he replied, taking off his glasses.
"Did she dance or sing?" Abby asked.
"She always told me that she couldn't dance, but she had fun when she did, and she was the most talented singer I have ever known." Spencer smiled, thinking of his Polly in a way he hadn't for a very long time. "Abby, I don't want you to worry about what people would have thought of your mom if she was still alive. I just want you to know that she loved you, very much, and would have done anything for you."
"Daddy, she died protecting me didn't she? From one of the men you were looking for?"
Spencer took a deep breath, remembering his time in the BAU. Once Abby was born, he left the team to have a more stable environment for his daughter, taking a job in the terrorism prevention unit. "She did," he told her, finally faced with with the task of explaining the death of the mother of his child to Abby.
"I hope I make her proud," the little girl said with conviction.
The man pulled his daughter close and kissed the top of her head. "She would be so proud of you, just as proud as I am," he assured her.
The little girl wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. "I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, Abby, don't ever forget that."
"Your mom?" he asked, sitting down on the child's bed. The room was still painted purple, but it had grown up, the books on the shelf were adult novels now, not children's books. The girl had followed in her father's footstep, and at age eight, she was in eighth grade. Everyday, he looked at his daughter and saw his late wife, Polly. Abigail Diana Reid was growing up to look just like her mother. "Your mom was the bravest, strongest, most beautiful woman I had ever met. She was funny, caring, and you look just like her," he told her.
"What was her favorite food?" she asked, tilting her head, a waterfall of black hair falling onto her pillow.
"Pizza, and fries with a milkshake," he answered, remembering with a smile.
"Where did she go to college?"
"She graduated top of her class from University of Michigan," he replied, taking off his glasses.
"Did she dance or sing?" Abby asked.
"She always told me that she couldn't dance, but she had fun when she did, and she was the most talented singer I have ever known." Spencer smiled, thinking of his Polly in a way he hadn't for a very long time. "Abby, I don't want you to worry about what people would have thought of your mom if she was still alive. I just want you to know that she loved you, very much, and would have done anything for you."
"Daddy, she died protecting me didn't she? From one of the men you were looking for?"
Spencer took a deep breath, remembering his time in the BAU. Once Abby was born, he left the team to have a more stable environment for his daughter, taking a job in the terrorism prevention unit. "She did," he told her, finally faced with with the task of explaining the death of the mother of his child to Abby.
"I hope I make her proud," the little girl said with conviction.
The man pulled his daughter close and kissed the top of her head. "She would be so proud of you, just as proud as I am," he assured her.
The little girl wrapped her arms around his middle and squeezed. "I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, Abby, don't ever forget that."
♠ ♠ ♠
And that, folks, is a wrap.Thank you so much for reading, commenting, subscribing, and recommending. It's been over a year and you all have been wonderful.
I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing and posting this.