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Time	By : cr8zymommy Category: 1 through F > Criminal Minds Views: 4585 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story

Chapter List
- 13
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Too many things seemed to be happening all at once. Spencer found himself standing in the bathroom of an apartment he’d never thought he’d see again. More memories were assaulting him in here. Memories of pain, of hardship. Of things he could have happily lived the rest of his life without remembering. He didn’t want to remember anymore. He didn’t want to have these thoughts with their edges as sharp as glass cutting at him. Wasn’t it better when he hadn’t remembered? When everything was a blur?
Not that everything was clear now. It was so jumbled together that he couldn’t even make sense of half of the memories. He knew who he was now. That was one part of things he would cling to. He was SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. That, he would never forget again. He may still be ‘boy’, but inside, he would always remember his name. That part of him he would never give up.
But…the other memories, they were so mixed up. Like a deck of neatly stacked cards that had been thrown into the air. They were all floating around, landing helter skelter. Spencer paused, his head tipping as one thought floated up above the rest. The murders perpetrated by members of Charles Manson's "Family" were inspired in part by Manson's prediction of Helter Skelter, an apocalyptic war he believed would arise from tension over racial relations between blacks and whites.
That wasn’t exactly something he wanted to remember right at the moment. But it was right there in the forefront of his mind now. Photos, testimony, all of it. Why did he have to remember that stuff?
“What is it, pretty boy?”
Morgan’s voice broke into his trance, yanking him from the deluge of memories. Spencer actually found himself grateful for it. He hadn’t been able to pull himself out. “My, uh, my head. It’s….everything is jumbled.” Spencer muttered. It was too ingrained in him anymore to answer questions when asked. When you did, you were hurt. Answer any questions automatically or suffer for it. Be a good boy. A good boy.
“That’s to be expected, I’d think. Your memories are all trying to come back at once. Don’t focus so hard on it and let it all come naturally. It might make the process easier.”
Oh, how he wished that it would work that way. But everything was so confusing. How could he not think on it? But maybe, just maybe, Morgan could help him sort through it all. Instead of having it tossing around in his mind, Morgan might be able to help him make sense of some of it. Maybe?
Morgan’s arm around him gently nudged him forward. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Cleaned up? Spencer furrowed his brows. Then his mind cleared a little. That’s right. They were supposed to be in here getting him bathed. That sounded heavenly. Finally getting clean for the first time in so long. Master liked him clean, but he liked him even more with fresh blood on him. A shiver ran down Spencer’s gaunt frame. Master so liked his blood…
One of Morgan’s hands left him, reaching into the tub to turn on and adjust the water. How was he supposed to do this? He couldn’t stand long enough in a tub to get clean. Was that what Morgan expected him to do? Did he expect him to stand there and get clean? He didn’t want to upset Morgan. No, not when Morgan was the only steady thing in his world right now. Even steadier than Garcia. Maybe he should ask Garcia to come in here and help him. He wouldn’t be so worried about upsetting her. But would that make Morgan mad? Would Morgan get angry with him for wanting someone else to help him?
Again, Morgan’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Just a second and the tub will be full, kid. I doubt you’d be able to stand for real long. Why don’t we get you dressed down and settled in there?”
A small prayer of thanks rose into Spencer’s mind. He wouldn’t have to stand!
All sense of modesty had been burned out of him a long time ago. A small semblance of it was trying to reassert itself, telling him that this was his friend and undressing in front of him should be weird, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care about it. Who cared if he was naked in front of Morgan? Clothed, naked, what did it matter? When a person wanted to see his body, it wouldn’t take much to force him to strip. At least this way it was done on his terms and not someone else’s. When someone turns your body into an object, your boundaries slowly start to disappear. Why would I care about stripping in front of him? If he wanted me naked, he could easily overpower me and have me stripped in no time flat.
It surprised him when Morgan didn’t move to undress him. Spencer took that to mean that he was expected to do it on his own. He brought his shaking hands up to start pulling at his clothes. Morgan’s hands stayed on him the whole time, helping him keep his balance. In no time at all Spencer was naked in the middle of his bathroom. Morgan leaned over and shut off the water to the tub.
“Here, why don’t you, um, use the facilities real quick before we put you in the tub.” Morgan suggested, almost sounding embarrassed. Spencer didn’t hesitate to follow the order. He didn’t see Morgan’s blush, or the way his friend turned away while Spencer relieved himself. When he was done and the toilet was flushed, Morgan helped him wash his hands at the sink.
Gentle hands helped him climb into the bathtub. Instinctively Spencer cringed in preparation for the water. He got the surprise of his life when the water touched him and it wasn’t hot and it wasn’t cold, but a nice mix of the two. He found himself sinking into it with a soft sigh. When was the last time he’d had a bath like this? A bath that didn’t burn him with heat or burn him with the icy temperature.
The cuts stung from encountering the water. He didn’t mind so much. It was heavenly just to be sitting there, stinging and all.
“If I knew it was that easy to make you smile, I’d have put you in the tub yesterday.” Morgan said in a voice that was lighthearted and almost…was it teasing? There was nothing malicious to it. Spencer let the words flow around him for a moment, enjoying words that weren’t spoken in anger.
He opened his eyes to see the older man sitting on the toilet, watching him with a grin on his face. That was when he realized there was a small smile curving his own lips. He was…smiling. Actually smiling. The shock of it wiped it off his face. For the first time in years, he’d smiled.
“The bath…it feels good.” Spencer whispered. He couldn’t help the fear that Morgan would take this away, knowing that he was enjoying it.
But Morgan only nodded and kept smiling. “Don’t tell anyone, but I like to indulge in a bath sometimes myself. Occasionally, when I’m real stressed, I toss bubbles in. There’s something about a bubble bath that makes you feel like a kid. You just can’t stay stressed when you’re sitting in a pile of bubbles.”
The idea of Morgan sitting in a tub full of bubbles was enough to bring back a ghost of Spencer’s smile. He just couldn’t picture the older man indulging in something as frivolous as a bubble bath. “I used to indulge in the occasional bubble bath.” He said without thinking. The minute the words left his mouth he furrowed his eyebrows. Where had that come from?
Morgan didn’t really give him time to think on that. He chuckled and teased “Why doesn’t that surprise me? If I’d thought about it I would’ve put some bubbles in here for you now. I’m sure there in here somewhere.”
“Just being clean in enough.”
Where were all these words coming from? A part of Spencer still rebelled at the idea of speaking. Master had told him not to speak. Master would be furious if he knew he was in here with another man, bathing, talking to him. But Master wasn’t here. Maybe he could keep Master from finding out? No…Master always found out. He considered it worth the price he would pay, though. To feel human for a short while. To feel like he was really a person, not a thing.
The other part of him seemed to be aching to talk. Words had been held in for so long it was like they were trying to all burst from him at once. That urge was there around Garcia, but it was stronger around Morgan. Some part of his brain told him that he could tell Morgan everything and Morgan would be there for him. That he would listen to him no matter what. That was a heady thought. Could he really bring himself to do it? To talk about his life?
“Is…is Master really going to jail, Morgan?” He looked up as he asked the question that was foremost in his mind. Everything in his world hinged on that one question.
It meant more to him than Morgan knew when Morgan’s eyes stayed steady on him. “Yes. We have video evidence of what he’s done, kid. There’s no way he’s getting off with that kind of evidence stacked up against him.” His voice dropped lower, turning just a little gentler. “You won’t have to ever see him again.”
Twin jolts of fear and gratitude shot up. Fear, because he still felt as if he should be back in Master’s basement. He was a bad boy and he needed someone to control him. Someone to teach him how to be good. Gratitude, because he was so tired of hurting. So tired of trying and failing to learn. “Who will help me, though?” He asked without thinking about it.
“Help you?”
“To be good.” Spencer whispered. His gaze dropped down to the water. Stress had him curling his legs up toward his chest, making as small a target as possible and protecting his vital organs.
He heard Morgan sigh, the sound almost painful. Had he said something wrong? Had he upset Morgan? Oh, please, please, he didn’t want to upset him. He didn’t want Morgan to get mad at him. Not Morgan. Please!
“You are good, kid.” Morgan finally answered him. It sounded like he was having a hard time talking. Almost like he had a cold. “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known.”
Spencer knew that was wrong. He wasn’t good. Master had hurt him because of how bad he was. But he wasn’t supposed to argue with people. Arguing brought trouble and his aching body didn’t need any more trouble. So he kept his mouth shut, locking away the protest that started to rise.
Another sigh sounded in the bathroom. Then Morgan spoke again, that thick sound gone from his voice. “Why don’t I help you wash your hair, kid? I bet your arms don’t really want to lift that high right now. I don’t remember what the file said your injures are, but I can see the marks.”
“After they admitted me they discovered I had obtained a poorly relocated shoulder which they proceeded to relocate for me. I also suffered from three bruised ribs, multiple lacerations and abrasions, malnourishment, and hematuria.”
“Hematuria?” Morgan interrupted his spiel even as his hands were grabbing a cup from the counter and filling it with water. He helped Spencer tip his head back and was gently pouring water over his hair. “What’s that?”
“In medicine, hematuria, or haematuria, is the presence of red blood cells in the urine. It may be idiopathic and/or benign, or it can be a sign that there is a kidney stone or a tumor in the urinary tract, ranging from trivial to lethal. If white blood cells are found in addition to red blood cells, then it is a signal of urinary tract infection. Mine was caused by a sharp blow to the kidneys.”
Spencer blinked a little, surprised at what had just come out of his mouth. How had he known that? Where on earth had that come from? He’d rattled it off like it was nothing. When Morgan had asked him what it was, the answer had simply floated up in his mind. That happened all the time when Master asked him things. Spencer never knew how he knew something like that.
If Morgan thought it odd, he didn’t say anything. In fact, he was busy putting shampoo into Spencer’s hair and lightly scrubbing it in. The sensation was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
“So, in layman terms, you’ve essentially had the crap beat out of you by a bastard.” Morgan asked in a conversational tone. “And we essentially just need to be very careful with you.”
For a minute Spencer could only stare in shock up at Morgan. He’d called Master a bastard. A bastard. The audacity of that statement left Spencer unsure of what to say.
He closed his eyes when Morgan asked him, lying back and letting the shampoo be rinsed off of his hair. The bathroom stayed silent as Morgan picked up a washcloth and moved on to cleaning the rest of him. Spencer just lay there, eyes closed, lost in the sensations of being cared for. The concept was so foreign to him. Yet it was so soothing.
For just this little bit, his mind actually felt peaceful. He let all thought drift away. No memories, no thoughts of Master. Nothing. Just an empty mind and Morgan’s gentle ministrations. Completely at peace, Spencer slid into sleep.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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