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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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Standing beside Morgan’s car, Spencer stared up at a building he had never thought he would see again, let alone go inside of. His hands trembled as he wrapped them around his waist. When Morgan had said that morning that he needed to stop by the office and fill out some quick paperwork, Spencer had been unsure about going out with him. Not because he didn’t want to see anyone—he really didn’t mind the idea of seeing his friends—but because it would put him out in public. Around people. Too many people making too much noise.
That seemed to be the worst part. Everything was so noisy. His ears couldn’t process all of it at once and were having a hard time filtering out what was important and what wasn’t. Already he could feel a headache brewing behind his eyes. But Morgan said he needed to do some paperwork, so Spencer was here with him. They both knew that leaving Spencer alone right now was not an option for a multitude of reasons. One of the biggest being Spencer’s fear of letting Morgan out of his sight for very long.
But could he walk in here? Could he walk into FBI headquarters, up the elevator to the familiar doors that would lead him to what had once been his life? You can do it he told himself. How hard can it be? Just walk in there.
That thought wasn’t as reassuring as he’d wanted it to be. His body trembled only slightly as yet another person passed him by. There were so many people here! So much noise.
Just stick close to Morgan. He’ll keep you safe from them. He won’t let anyone hurt you. All you have to do is stick close to him and avoid as many people as possible. That was a plan he could stick to.
The other part of his brain, though, continued with its treacherous taunting. He can’t protect you from everyone in there. All those people and each one of them carry a gun. How can he stop a group of people with guns from taking you away? He can’t. They’ll come and they’ll take you and they’ll Have you! You know it. People look at you and they see what you are. They know what you let be done to you. You’re no FBI agent. A true agent would have escaped, or died before giving in the way you did. You gave up. You let him have you. You’re weak. They’ll see that. Everyone who looks at you knows it.
He didn’t hear Morgan walk up beside him—all this damn noise!—but he felt the solid presence of him at his side suddenly. He sucked in a deep breath before looking at his friend. Morgan didn’t offer words of encouragement; he just held out a hand, offering his support that way. It was exactly what Spencer needed. He let one of his trembling hands come out and thread together with Morgan’s. Just that contact made him feel a little bit safer.
Together the two made their way to the entrance. When it came time to come through security, Spencer’s stomach jumped a little at having a guard so close to him. Once they’d determined they were secure to come in, the two moved further into the building. It was blissfully quieter in here. Though there was still noise, it wasn’t as all-consuming as it had been outside. Spencer let out a little sigh of relief.
That relief disappeared when they approached the elevator, moving to stand inside. There were two other people already in there. Two men. Spencer felt his breath catch in the back of his throat and his hand clamped down on Morgan’s in a vise like grip.
The older man squeezed back, conveying a silent reassurance. When they were inside the elevator, Spencer stood by the wall, keeping Morgan between him and the other two men. His heart rate picked up a little when the doors closed. He was trapped in here. Trapped with three other men, only one of which he held any trust for.
“Hey, Morgan. How’s it going?” One of the guys said in a friendly sort of way. Something about his voice was slightly familiar to Spencer. Did he know him? Had he known him at one point in time? Why can’t I remember if I know him or not? I hate this jumbled up memory! I hate not knowing things I feel I should know. The snide little comment in his mind startled him. He pushed those thoughts away. The emotions that came with it were too foreign to him. He’d almost felt…not angry, but annoyed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way. That he’d felt any way but sad, or hurt, or scared.
Morgan shifted a little, keeping himself between Spencer and the others, but his voice was friendly when he replied. “Things are going pretty good.” He squeezed Spencer’s hand as he said that part. “How about you, Kyle? How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Oh, you know how it goes. Work, work, work.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” Morgan chuckled.
The elevator stopped and the doors opened, the quiet passenger getting off. But two other men and a woman got on, taking up even more space. When the doors closed, Spencer felt his breath hitch even more. There was even less space in here now. Oh, God. Oh, God. He needed to get out of here. He couldn’t breathe in here. Not with this many people. No, no, no. Trembles ran down his lanky frame, making him shake like a leaf in the wind.
Morgan turned toward him, concern tightening his face, drawing his eyebrows down. “Hey now, pretty boy. Come on. Breathe for me.” He murmured. His free hand came up, stroking down Spencer’s cheek briefly. The small contact made the younger man flinch. Why, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he couldn’t breathe in here. There were too many people in the elevator with him. He had to get out, now. Now!
“Spencer, sugar, look at me. Look at me, now. Come on. We’re almost there, ok? Just breathe and concentrate on me. We’ll be there shortly, I promise.”
He forced his wide eyes to lock on to Morgan’s face. Please, God, let the doors open soon. Let him out of here before this degraded into a full blown panic attack. He needed to get out of here! “Please.” The whimper slipped out before he realized it. The one word was all he could manage.
As if something above had heard his plea, the elevator doors suddenly opened. Morgan was pulling him out; Spencer didn’t even look to see if this was their floor. All he could focus on was getting out of that small space. If it hadn’t been for Morgan’s hand in his, he would have hit the floor by tripping over his own feet in his effort to rush out of there.
Lost in trying to control the panic, Spencer didn’t even notice anyone else was in front of him until he collided with another body. Instantly he whimpered, drawing backwards, letting go of Morgan’s hand so that he could bring his hands up like he was going to shield his head. Instinct told him to protect himself.
But two voices brought him back to the present moment. First one, exclaiming “Spencer! Hey, hey, it’s ok, sugar. We’re out of there. It’s ok.” That was definitely Morgan. Then another, “Derek Morgan, what on earth were you thinking, taking him in there? Why are you even out of the house?” Oh, Garcia. He’d run into Garcia.
Her perfume surrounded him at the same time that he was wrapped in her arms. “Oh, sweetie, it’s ok. You’re safe here, honey. I’ve got you.” She whispered to him. Spencer huddled into her, burying his face against her shoulder, his body shaking with the sobs he was trying to repress. “Come on, I’m taking you to my office. You’ll sit with me while Morgan does what he needs to do, ok?”
With her usual bustling manner, Garcia took complete control of the situation. Before Spencer could even think to protest, or get enough air back to voice anything, he was being pulled down the hallway by Garcia’s arms, led directly to her office. The first thought he had when she brought him inside and shut his doors was that it was so wonderfully quiet in there. The only sound he heard was the light hum of the computer equipment. Just like he had in the basement. When Master had left to sleep or to go somewhere, Spencer had spent many hours lying on the ground or standing where he’d been commanded to be, listening to the silence of the house around him and the subtle buzz of the electrical equipment that Master had set up to keep an eye on him. Those had been his favorite times in that house. Being here, hearing it now, was soothing. Being around Garcia was soothing.
It comforted him enough that he allowed her to lead him to a chair and sit him down. But then he felt some of his fear kick back in. Garcia was wonderful to be around—so bright an loving and full of everything he had missed in life—but he had to admit that if a threat came, she wasn’t exactly terrifying. No one would be scared off by her. And they were back here, alone. Anyone could come back to them and no one would know. What if someone came and overpowered her and took him? What if someone hurt her or him? There was no one here to protect them. Spencer swore that if someone came in, he would fight to protect Garcia. He would go with them if he had to just to keep Garcia safe.
“Sweetie?”
Her gentle voice broke into his thoughts, making him realize that he’d been sitting there staring off into space. Swallowing, he looked over to where she was sitting in her office chair. For just a second memory swarmed his mind. How many times had he sat here with her like this? Tons of flashes, so many he couldn’t keep track, of her sitting in that chair, surrounded by the computers. This was her space. Her lair, as she’d always called it. “The Oracle of all knowing.” She’d once called herself.
Garcia smiled at him as he drew his attention back to the present. “You ok, Reid? You went a little spacey on me there. You know you’re safe here, right? Nothing is going to happen to you at the FBI headquarters. No one would be dumb enough to hurt you here.”
Another memory flashed into Spencer’s mind and he spoke without thinking. “People did before.” He said that with amazement. Not at the information, but at the easy access of the memory. Some of his earlier memories at the BAU were still a little foggy sometimes. There were periods in his life where he didn’t have a straight memory of them. They were fragmented and jagged, like puzzle pieces all out of place.
“What? What do you mean?” Garcia asked. She rolled her chair over to the table he was seated at, her eyebrows drawn down in a look Spencer recognized. She was being protective at the moment.
He chewed on his lip for a second, debating whether or not to answer her. But what would it hurt to tell her? “I was just…you said that and I remembered a few things. My memories, um, the early ones can get foggy. They’re not all in the right place right now. I uh, I remember some people picking on me. Words, or tripping me, or shoving me when I was alone.”
Another memory came in, making Spencer marvel at the clarity of it. It was as if it clicked into place in his mind, no longer floating around. “Once Johnson came in when I was making coffee and he was mad. He didn’t like me because I was here and I was so young and he’d worked for years before they’d even considered him for the BAU. He said something about his case and I had read the files, so I gave him my opinion. Next thing I knew I was against the fridge, coffee spilled down my shirt and he was telling me that he was better at his job than I was and he didn’t need the advice of a kid.”
“That bastard! How dare he lay his hands on my baby?” Garcia seethed. The snap to her voice had Spencer jumping a little, pulling back out of his head to stare at her with wide eyes. Instantly she reached over and patted his arm, her expression softening. “Sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to startle you. But no one lays a hand on my babies. Especially not my hunky doctor. I should give his computer a virus he won’t ever be able to get rid of.”
Realizing that the anger wasn’t directed at him, Spencer breathed a little easier. His response came without thought. “Garcia, that was four years, two months and seventeen days ago. There’s absolutely no point in doing anything about it now.”
“Doesn’t make it ok. But, I won’t argue it.” She looked him over from head to toe with a critical eye. “You look just a little better. Been sleeping ok?”
“Yes.” No need to tell her that he slept in Morgan’s arms, or about the nightmares he had. She had asked if he was sleeping ok and he really was. Not perfect, but ok. Because it was Garcia, he let himself look her over. “You look better too. I’m glad you got went home and got some sleep. You needed it.”
“I did, but I didn’t want to leave you. It’s hard for us to be apart from you, honey. We’ve all missed you for so long.” She said. When he ducked his head down, she chuckled. Spencer looked around the room, feeling his heart still thudding slightly in his chest. He picked awkwardly at his clothes, not liking the feel of them on his skin. But he’d made the agreement with Morgan that he’d dress completely when he came out in public. That meant that he was in shoes, socks, pants, and a shirt. He had refused the jacket, no matter how cold he might get. That was just…too much.
Garcia must have noticed him pulling slightly at his pant legs. “Your clothes bothering you?”
He looked up at her and nodded. “A little. I don’t like wearing them. I…I’m not comfortable in them.”
His easy answer seemed to stun her. A corner of her mouth quirked with good humor. “You never answered questions so easy before. It’s going to take some getting used to now. You were always the perfect example of an I’m-fine guy.”
Spencer shrugged and looked at his lap again. “What’s the point of hiding something? There’s always someone stronger than you to take it from you or pull it out of you whether you like it or not. At least this way, it’s on my terms.” He told her. When he lifted his eyes, it surprised him to see the tears that swam in hers. “Garcia?”
“It breaks my heart to hear you talk like that, Spencer Reid. I hate it even more knowing that it’s how you really feel.” She said softly. He tried to say something, but she shook her head. “No, no, I understand. Just let me be a little weepy for a second. I promise, it’ll be done with soon. Distract me. Tell me what else has you looking so nervous in my lair.”
So she’d noticed that, had she? He flushed just a little. He didn’t want her thinking that he didn’t trust her or feel safe with her. He did! But, in the world where he’d lived, women didn’t hold any more power than he had. If anything, they’d been worse off than him. They’d had nothing. None of them had ever been able to stand up to Master. None of them had been able to take what he gave them. Except for the last girl. She had survived.
Realizing she was still waiting for an answer, Spencer picked at his pant legs again and looked back up at her. Hopefully she wouldn’t get offended. Hopefully he could say this right. “It’s not you, Garcia. I…I trust you. Being with you is easy. I, I’m not afraid when I’m with you. But…I just, if someone came…”
“…I’m not exactly the type to be able to fight them off. I don’t even carry a gun.” She finished for him. A smile was lighting her face, letting him know that he hadn’t upset her. “I get it, sweetheart. I do. You’re not quite ready to feel unprotected yet. Is that why you were clinging so close to Morgan?”
Spencer nodded. “He makes me feel…safe. I know no one is going to get past him. When, when I can’t see him, I, I panic a little. It’s stupid, I know. And there are studies that state that it’s common for a person who has been captive for extended periods of time to transfer the dependence on their captor to the person that recuses them. I know that is something I need to watch out for. But…but I can’t help it. I breathe easier when I can see him.”
He’d rambled a little in the middle there, just barely managing to cut himself off. Once he’d cut into his rant, his nerves had come back.
Garcia pushed away from the table abruptly, rolling to her computers. Her fingers flew over the keys for a moment. Watching, Spencer wondered what on earth she was doing. It wasn’t like her to just cut off a conversation like that, even when she was working. She was very capable of multitasking. He didn’t have long to wonder, though. She reached out, turning one of the monitors towards the side of the room. He couldn’t see what was there.
Garcia stood, reaching out her hand to him. Confused, he took it, allowing her to help him up and lead him toward the couch. When she had him settled there, she pointed back to the monitor she’d moved. From where he sat he now had a perfect view. On the screen was a live feed from one of the cameras in the bullpen. There, in center screen, sat Morgan. He was working at a desk, occasionally turning to talk to Emily, who sat near him at her desk.
The tension inside of Spencer eased just a little. Seeing Morgan made it a little easier for him to breathe. Grateful, he gave Garcia one of his small, rare, hesitant attempts at a smile. She bent down, patting a hand on his cheek. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong in relying on him, or looking to him for safety.” She said gently. “You know all the facts about this transference thing, Reid. You’ll stop yourself if it gets too far, or you’ll ask one of us for help before then. Right now, it’s perfectly ok to lean on other people. If he’s what makes you feel safe, then just enjoy that sensation. No one is going to judge you for it.”
With one last smile, she moved over to her desk and sat down again. “Now, you just sit there, relax a little, maybe catch a nap or something. Our chocolate God is going to be working for a bit so you’ve got plenty of time to do whatever you want.”
“Can I, can I just lay here?”
“Sure thing, honey. So long as you don’t mind the sound of my keys as I work.”
Spencer shook his head. Gently he lowered himself down on the couch, making sure the screen stayed in his line of sight as he did. He didn’t want to sleep, but lying down sounded so nice. “I don’t mind the keys.” He whispered, watching as Morgan smiled and threw something at Emily, who immediately threw something back. “Your office is nice and quiet. It…reminds me of home.” Images of the quiet basement came to mind. Garcia had no idea that he meant there when he said home.
Neither one spoke as they stayed in the quiet office. Spencer just lay on the couch, enjoying the silence and the presence of someone he loved and who loved him in return.
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