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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
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Warmth surrounded Spencer when he woke. There was no moment of disorientation. He knew who he was and he knew where he was. In Morgan’s bed, in Morgan’s arms. Spencer had learned to turn his brain on almost the instant his body woke up as a means of survival quite a while ago. He wasn’t always successful, especially if nightmares plagued his sleep, but if he actually slept, he would wake in an instant in the morning. Or, afternoon, he thought to himself as his eyes traveled the room. A glance to the clock on the wall told him it was ten after noon. Wow. They’d slept…a lot.
What made it worse was that Spencer felt like he could easily go back to sleep. But if he went back to sleep there was always a chance of nightmares. They had woken him up through the night; he knew that they waited just under the surface, waiting to ambush him the instant he gave in to sleep.
When they’d arrived at Morgan’s house the previous day, Spencer hadn’t been sure if he’d be able to sleep in any bed in Morgan’s house. After what had happened in his own bed, he hadn’t known if he’d be able to handle any bed. Just seeing the bed in his apartment had been terrifying. To touch it? No, no. Yet he felt none of those things about Morgan’s bed, which told him that it was just the one in his home. That makes sense he told himself. You know exactly why.
He did know why. Even if he’d forgotten, his dreams would have reminded him.
“You think any louder and you’ll give the both of us a headache.” Morgan’s teasing voice was low and warm.
The sound of his voice in the silent room had Spencer startling, but almost immediately he settled back down. There was no one else in the house. Just Morgan. That triggered a random thought and had Spencer tilting his head up to look at Morgan’s face. “Where’s Clooney?” he asked. Realizing that he’d spoken without permission—asking a question of all things!—Spencer flinched yet again, sure he was going to get in trouble. Stupid, stupid!
Morgan didn’t even move, though. His eyes stayed closed, though his lips curved slightly. “At my neighbors. Before we left the station to go to your apartment, I called the neighbor and asked him to watch Clooney for me for a few days. He usually does it for me.”
Digesting that information, Spencer looked back down, his eyes traveling over Morgan’s shirt. He wanted to ask another question, but he was afraid of pushing his luck. Morgan hadn’t gotten mad at him so far. He didn’t want to push it and finally do something to piss the older man off.
“Just ask, kid.”
Surprise, Spencer’s eyes widened. How on earth had Morgan known he had another question? He didn’t think on it long, not wanting Morgan to think he wasn’t going to follow orders. “Why didn’t you bring him home once you knew you were coming home?” he whispered.
“I thought he’d scare you, honestly. I remember how little you and animals seem to get along.”
That had Spencer wanting to smile. The idea that his friend had remembered that kind of small detail about him was…sweet. “I don’t mind if he’s here. He’s your dog. He should be with you.” His voice was quiet yet he knew Morgan heard him. The arm that was wrapped around him gave a gentle squeeze. “I’ll call later.” Morgan assured him. Though he wasn’t looking at him, Spencer could hear the smile in Morgan’s voice. He’d done the right thing, then. He didn’t want to have Morgan unhappy. Not just because he was afraid of upsetting him, either. A part of him simply wanted Morgan to be happy.
“So, pretty boy, what do you feel like doing today?”
What did he feel like doing? Did that mean….he got to decide what to do with the day? “I…what?” he asked. He couldn’t believe Morgan was asking him what he wanted to do. Maybe he’d misunderstood him. Maybe Morgan wasn’t really asking him what he wanted to do; maybe he was just trying to determine Spencer’s physical injuries so he could plan the day right. Master had done that. He would have Spencer assess his own injuries so that Master knew if he had to be careful. Master enjoyed hurting him, but he didn’t want him to die.
Morgan didn’t comment on the tension that had Spencer’s body tight. He just continued to talk as if it wasn’t even there. “I asked what you feel like doing. Do you want to lie around in bed? Go outside? Watch movies? Whatever you want, kid. Today is all for you.”
All for him? The possibilities swarmed Spencer’s mind, suddenly seeming endless. He had no idea what to do with an entire day! Taking a risk, knowing this might not be what Morgan wanted to hear, he forced himself to be honest and whisper “I don’t know. I…I can’t plan that far ahead. I can only focus on, on making it the next minute. I can’t think that far into the future.” It sounded pitiful when it was said out loud like that.
Morgan ruffled his hair in a gentle sort of way. “Then I think that today should be spent reminding you how to relax. I propose we shut out the world today, kid. We won’t talk about anything that happened to you or anything outside this apartment. We’ll just laze around the house, veg out on takeout, watch movies and just be two friends having a relaxing day. On top of that, it’ll give your body some time to heal a little more. How does that sound?”
It sounded heavenly. In his mind, Spencer did exactly as Morgan had suggested. He took as much of the negativity as possible and pushed it back. A corner of Spencer’s mouth quirked and he let his eyes close again. “Can we sleep a little more first?” He asked. Already he could feel himself drifting back off.
“Hell yeah. Today, kid, we’re lazy.”
That was the last thing Spencer heard before he fell back asleep.

As Morgan had suggested, the two wasted away the entire day together. They slept a little while long in the bed before moving out to the couch in the living room. There, Morgan put on a happy movie, something that would make them laugh. At one point in time Spencer would have picked the movie apart, not understanding why certain things were so funny. This time he just watched it, not quite smiling. His eyes sparkled slightly, though, each time that Morgan laughed.
They didn’t talk about anything that even remotely touched on Spencer’s kidnapping or his recent rescue. The only time anything came close was when Morgan asked him how his pain was and Spencer answered that he was fine. Otherwise, they discussed the past if they even talked at all. A great deal of the day was spent with neither man speaking.
Nobody stopped by or called. Occasionally Morgan received a text message. He never said what they were about. Spencer knew, though. He knew his friends were checking up on him. He didn’t mind that. Not really. It kind of made him feel good to know that they cared that much about him.
After a dinner of Chinese takeout, which Spencer ate only a tiny bit of, the two men watched one last movie. Halfway through, Spencer’s eyes started to fall a little. Sleep was trying to take him back under again. Morgan turned the movie off and suggested they turn in. Half asleep, Spencer reminded him that he hadn’t got Clooney back yet.
While Spencer was using the bathroom, a knock same on the door. In the act of washing his hands, the younger man froze. Who was there? Morgan had told him that none of the others were going to stop by today; he’d told them to stay away. So who was knocking? Did that mean something had happened? Panic roared to life inside of him. Without realizing it, his hands gripped the sink while his eyes locked on the door.
What if someone was coming to tell them that Master was free? What if it was Master at the door? Oh, no. No, no. It can’t be him. Morgan said I was safe here. Nothing is going to happen to me with him around. He tried to tell himself. Yet there was that other voice, always doubtful, slipping insidiously into his thoughts. They can’t always protect you. You belong to Master. You are his body. You think he’ll just leave you here? He’ll find you and he’ll punish you for how bad you’ve been.
No, no, I’m not bad! He argued with himself.
The other voice was relentless. You are. Look at you; look at what you’ve done. Look at what you’ve let yourself become. You’re standing here in clothes, in another man’s house, sleeping in his bed. Master said not to talk to anyone. You’ve disobeyed his orders. What next? Will you let Morgan Have you. That’s all any man wants with you.
A sob trapped itself in Spencer’s throat. No, no, it wasn’t true. Morgan didn’t want that from him!
Yessss the voice hissed in his mind. Why do you think he sleeps in the same bed with you? He’s waiting until your guard is down and then he’s going to Have you. That’s what men do. You deserve it. It’s your punishment for being so bad. You were already in trouble, remember? You told the police about that lady. Remember what Master told you when he found out? “You know what to do, boy. I can’t right now.” But have you? You’ve disobeyed him even more.
The tears were falling now, burning down his cheeks. The voice was right. Master had told him that; had told him to punish himself because Master couldn’t. He was being such a bad boy! Would Morgan really punish him? No, no! He refused to believe that part. He absolutely refused to believe that Morgan would take him, hurt him, any of that. Morgan would never do that.
But Spencer turned his head to look in the mirror and he knew the second half of his thoughts were true. He was bad for not listening to Master. He was bad for telling about the pretty ladies. He was bad for being at Morgan’s house. For thinking bad thoughts about Master. For eating and wearing clothes and sleeping in a bed. For all that and so much more.
There had been plenty of times that Master had made his boy punish himself. He seemed to enjoy it. The boy knew what he had to do now.
Yet he didn’t move. He couldn’t make himself move. The urge to follow Master’s orders was taking over him, demanding to be heard. There was another voice, though. Buried deep underneath everything but still there. This voice told him that he didn’t have to do this. He was safe here with Morgan. He didn’t have to hurt anymore. He didn’t have to live this way. I’m not ‘boy’. I’m Spencer! Spencer Reid!
Backing away from the sink, Spencer moved until his back was against the wall. The coldness of the wall was like a shock against the pain that was non-stop in his back. Gasping, he sunk to the floor. Pain filled his chest. His breathing was becoming labored, more difficult to pull in and out. Specks seemed to dance in front of his eyes.
He didn’t hear Morgan outside the door, calling for him. He didn’t hear Clooney’s barking. Then the bathroom door opened and Spencer found himself with his arms full of dog. Morgan was cursing lightly in the background, calling to his dog even as he moved forward to pull Clooney back. The dog just tugged away from Morgan and put himself right into Spencer’s lap, licking at his face. The younger man was so startled by this that his eyes went wide. He didn’t even realize that his breathing had evened out or that his vision had cleared. All he could do was stare at the dog in front of him.
Clooney licked his face again, right across his cheek. Then he looked at Spencer, his head tipped just a little to the side. Maybe it was silly, but Spencer felt like the dog was trying to make sure he was ok. His hand shook slightly as he raised it, lightly scratching behind Clooney’s ears. “Good boy, Clooney.” He whispered. The dog happily licked his arm, wringing a smile from Spencer.
Amusement laced the voice that spoke above the two. “Now that you two have made friends, why don’t we move this off the bathroom floor and to the bedroom?” Morgan teased him.
With his tiny smile still in place, Spencer levered himself up off the ground, the dog sticking close to his side. He shut off the water to the sink and followed Morgan down the hall and to the bedroom. Clooney seemed almost glued to the side of his leg, sticking to him as he walked into the bedroom and as he moved toward the bed.
Morgan looked at the two and shook his head. He was smiling, though, so Spencer knew he wasn’t in trouble. “Well come on, the both of you.” Morgan said as he climbed into bed. He was already in sweats and a shirt so he didn’t have to change before getting in. He pulled the blankets back, patting the bed. Clooney didn’t hop up, though, until Spencer climbed in and Morgan and tossed the blankets over the younger man. Then the dog hopped up, lying right against Spencer’s back. The warmth of the dog’s body chased away more of the shadows that had been in Spencer’s mind.
He and Morgan were lying face to face. It allowed Spencer to see the concern on Morgan’s face. “You ok, man?” he asked gently. “You looked…you looked like you were having a panic attack.”
“I was.” The admission was soft. Embarrassed by it, Spencer dropped his eyes to look at the blankets.
“You want to talk about it?”
“I was just, I was thinking.” Spencer said. He bit his lip, unsure how Morgan was going to react to all of his. “About, about being bad and such. Part of me knows I’m safe here, with you. But part of me is still ‘boy’. I can’t just shut it off. I look at, at everything I’m doing and…I can’t help but be afraid. I’ve disobeyed him so many ways, Morgan.” He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting the wave of fear and shame that came with that comment. “I’ve done almost everything Master told me not to.”
“You know you don’t have to follow his rules anymore, pretty boy. No one here expects you to.”
“But I can’t seem to stop myself.” And oh, how that hurt to admit. He hated that he couldn’t just go back to being who he once was. That was hard part of remembering who he was; who everyone was. He felt he should be able to go back to being him. But he was too damaged inside to be Spencer Reid anymore. Not far beneath the surface was still the boy who had followed every single order his Master had given him. “I can’t keep regular clothes on. I start to feel panicky and uncomfortable. I can’t stop myself from obeying everything I’m told without even thinking about it. Even suggestions register as orders to me. Despite knowing that they aren’t and that I don’t have to do them, my body does it anyways before my brain can even argue.”
For a moment the bedroom was quiet. Morgan shifted a little before he said “You don’t have to answer this, Spencer, but I was curious about something. I’ve noticed that you don’t argue anything. That you follow orders, like you just said. But yesterday, well, I saw you arguing with Emily about the blankets. Well, not really arguing. You were more debating how they should be set up.”
That was a simple question for Spencer. One he didn’t have to even think about. “She’s a woman. Women, they don’t, they never had power over me. They could…they could hurt me. Master let others hurt me sometimes. Some men, some women. But…with the pretty ladies, I, I always was the one in charge of them when he wasn’t around. I told them what to do. So…debating with them, with Emily, it doesn’t scare me. Does that make sense?”
“It does.”
“I hate this, Morgan.” Tension was trying to seep in again. His hands gripped the fitted sheet underneath the blankets. “I don’t understand anything. I don’t mind being close to you like this. I don’t mind sharing the bed with you, or having you touch me to help me. You don’t scare me. But I can’t stop myself from automatically obeying or being afraid that I’ll do something wrong and finally piss you off, even though my brain logically knows that it won’t happen. I know you won’t hurt me. But I’ve lived for almost two years trying to make sure I do everything to please Master so he doesn’t hurt me. I can’t handle others trying to touch me, but I can handle your touch. I’m like two different people inside, warring to try and keep control.”
Words almost poured from him. How did he keep finding himself here with Morgan, saying things he hadn’t known he would end up saying? Something about Morgan was so easy to talk to. Spencer knew that the person he had once been would never have talked so openly about any of this. About anything personal, really. But being with Master had ripped down his private walls. When someone takes away your pride and sense of self, you find it hard to even think about personal boundaries. They’ve been stripped away.
“At the station, he told me to punish myself since he can’t right now. All because I told you guys about the pretty ladies. I disobeyed him. I know that I don’t have to, but my brain still tells me that I need to. It’s not the first time he’s made me punish myself when he couldn’t or when he simply wanted to watch me obey. How insane does that make me that I’d hurt myself? That, even outside his control, I have to fight with everything I have to not punish myself?”
A hand touched his arm, snapping his eyes open and making him stare at Morgan’s face. His friend’s eyes were so sorrowful and serious. “Listen to me, Spencer Reid.” Morgan said in a voice gone low with emotion. “You are not crazy. You’ve lived through hell. It’s not just going to change overnight, sugar. You’re doing amazingly well for only being apart from him for days. Don’t be so hard on yourself for not being perfectly better yet. It’ll take time.” Neither of them commented on Morgan calling him ‘sugar’.
He knew the words were true, but it was hard for him to accept it. “But I’m safe with you!” Spencer insisted brokenly. “Why can’t my body understand that? Why can’t I just be normal again?”
“You may be safe, but who you are isn’t just going to change when you snap your fingers. It’ll take time and effort. Not just yours, but those around you as well. We’ll be there every step of the way to help you. But you have to give yourself a little leeway. What you lived through…well, it’s amazing you’re as sane as you are. Give yourself time.”
Those damned tears came back again, burning his eyes. He was so tired of crying all the time. “It’s so hard. I just want to be normal. I want to be me. He’s taken so much from me, Morgan. Not just time in my life, but the memories I could have had. He’s taken who I am and ruined it. He took away years I could have had with all of you. With my Godson. He took away the security in my own home. I couldn’t even look at my bed without a panic attack!”
As soon as the words were out, Spencer knew what Morgan would ask. He knew what was coming. To be honest, he’d wondered how long it would take before Morgan asked him.
“Spencer…I um, well…”
It was obvious that his friend couldn’t bring himself to ask. Spencer took a deep breath and kept his eyes on Morgan’s face. “You’re curious why I can’t handle my own bed but I can lie perfectly ok in yours.” He stated gently. Morgan nodded at him.
Though it was hard to let himself think on it, Spencer knew he had to tell Morgan, at least. “When…when he took me, I was, I was sleeping. I woke up to a hand on my mouth, keeping me silent, and a body was suddenly over me. He pinned me down and cuffed me with my own cuffs. Then…then he stuffed something in my mouth and tied on a…a gag. I struggled, but he hit me in the head and dazed me.”
The memories came back, as clear as if they had just happened. He felt his breath hitch again. The hand on his arm moved down, finding his fingers under the blanket and lacing them together. Spencer appreciated it. He squeezed Morgan’s hand, trying to draw strength from the other man.
“He raped me there, multiple times.” The words were blunt, but they held a wealth of pain. “Then he beat me. I couldn’t call out through the gag. Just…just before morning he unhooked the cuffs from the bed but not from my hands. He dressed me and tried to carry me out. I guess he thought I was too dazed to fight. But I fought him, hard. I broke free for a minute and made myself run, but he tackled me. Took me down to the ground and started to beat me. I, I passed out. When I, when I woke up, I was at his house. I don’t know how I got there.” Spencer squeezed Morgan’s hand even together. “Each time I looked at my bed, all I could see was myself lying there, trying to fight and failing. It was the first time I’d ever felt that weak. That helpless.”
“Ah, pretty boy.” They were the only words Morgan could seem to get out. To Spencer, they were enough. The words didn’t matter. The emotion in them was what counted. Love and sorrow; pain that he’d gone through something like that. Support for him having told this story. All of that was conveyed in those three words.
Shuddering, Spencer leaned in toward Morgan, resting their foreheads together. No more words were needed between them after that. There was nothing that could be said to follow that moment. So they lay there, staring at one another until sleep pulled their eyes closed. In the big bed, the two men fell asleep, hands still clasped between them, foreheads pressed gently together, a dog standing guard beside them. That night, Spencer slept without nightmares.
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