Spencer didn't have a normal childhood — not only because he was a child prodigy, but because his father left him and his mother to fend for themselves. Diana, his mom, wasn't religious at all and, God, she barely had the time to take care of herself and Spencer, so holidays would past through her like wind flowing through trees — she barely noticed them, especially considering the early signs of her schizophrenia. Spencer's birthday was the only date she actually made special. The others, like Easter, she never did.

Sure, when in school, Spencer got chocolate when it was Easter, but all schools did it. All kids got the cheap chocolate. Not that he was complaining — he loved chocolate, but he just didn't feel... Special. Eventually, Reid grew out of it, and holidays started to pass through him like they did his mom — unnoticed. He told himself he didn't care, but it was... Well, a lie.

This morning, though, when Spencer got to the bullpen, you were already there. When he walked up to his desk and placed his bag down, you had the sweetest smile on your stunning face he liked so much, and you handed him a pretty box. Spencer was confused, but took it from you.

"What's that?" Asked Spencer, his hazel eyes coming from your face to look at the box.

"Easter egg." You said, your tone gentle and happy. "Chocolate. I know you like candy, so I got you one. Handmade and all. Fancy." You grinned, proud of it.

Spencer's hazel eyes widened, and he felt... Seen. Like a child — a child who no one had ever seen before and now, after 36 years of his life, someone actually saw him, Spencer. It was a simple gesture, but you remembered. You remembered not only it was Easter, but that he liked candy and you got out of your way to get him a chocolate egg. Well, you did like him.

"You—" Spencer tried, his eyes darting back and forth from the box to your face. "You didn't have to. I didn't get you anything—", noticed Reid, feeling a little bad. "Thank you, though, I never—"

Get a grip, Spencer., he thought to himself.