Retribution, A Spencer Reid/Criminal Minds Fanfic

Chapter 50. Duck #2

The one thing the Reids would have changed about their situation was their pediatrician.

Before bringing Melinda home, they’d consulted with the old doctor up north and expressed their worries. They couldn’t be commuting from Quantico to the edge of nowhere even for regular check-ups, let alone if their daughter actually needed medical care. And with no clear idea of how her talents would develop, they were keenly aware of the need to protect their child from unwanted curiosity and speculation.

Oh, Spencer, we almost ended up test subjects ourselves; we can’t let that happen to Melinda…ever!

Both Reid and Ana had worked themselves up into something of a new-parent-frenzy by the time the doctor had finished his rounds and returned to check on them. But before they could even itemize their concerns, he’d addressed them.

It’s not a perfect solution, but…I can recommend Dr. George Evanston in New York. At least the commute will be shorter than coming all the way up here.

A deluge of questions had poured from the parents’ minds. In the interest of time, the doctor had cut them short.

He’s a descendant of mine. And, no, he’s not exceptionally gifted. He is, however, intuitive and he is aware of the special needs of your kind.

Reid had every wary, fatherly antennae extended to full length. Our kind? You don’t include yourself in that classification?

Smile wrinkles had come into full play. I mean the kind who need to live with a certain amount of secrecy; behind a curtain of discretion…OUTSIDE of our little enclave here.A worn hand had brushed against sleeping Melinda’s cheek. And YOU, little one…remember to stay away from Aaron.

The doctor had reinforced his directives regarding the baby’s godfather and then sent the young family on its way with an address, a phone number, and assurances that they could return at need. They would always be welcome.

It was as much as the new parents could have hoped for.

xxxxxxx

Prisoner Bescardi decided her work at the lab in Lake Placid had served its purpose. More than served its purpose, actually.

Not only had it afforded her the opportunity to visit the abandoned monastery…a fruitless effort when all was said and done…but it had provided her with proof that her ultimate test subject existed, and it had served to cement her reputation among the work release program administrators as a trustworthy person.

My work here is finished.

If the small matter of incarceration hadn’t been involved, Bescardi would simply have walked away and left her inferiors to pick up the pieces and cover her desertion as best they could. But she wasn’t in a position to do as she wished. She still needed to work within the confines imposed upon her. She would have to mold the system to meet her needs. And Lake Placid no longer met her needs.

It was time to engineer a return to the Big Apple itself. It was more convenient to Quantico after all.

That was when Poor Carol, the woman who ran errands and made purchases, developed what the lab staff came to refer to as ‘the car curse,’ ‘the automobile anathema.’

For some reason, every time their gofer went forth on Fridays, her vehicle would cough its last and die at whatever point was farthest from home base. The first time had been in Tupper Lake and had resulted in Carol’s supervisor, Mr. Simon going to bat for her with the halfway house supervisor and, indirectly, the prison board that had granted work release in the first place.