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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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No, no, no, no. Why wouldn’t they just leave him alone? Why wouldn’t they just let him go see Master? He had to! He had to see Master! But no, Master was going to come get him. Master had said he’d see him soon. He just had to be a good boy until then. Master had told him to follow the rules, that he’d know if he didn’t. He always knew.
So he was kneeling on the hard floor of this room, ignoring the aching, ignoring the cold. His hands were resting on either knee, his head was bowed down. Master would come get him and he’d see how good he was. Master would see what a good boy he was.
These people here, they were trying to get him in trouble, he knew they were. They’d taken Master away. They’d tried to break Master’s rules! Then they’d taken him to a hospital where people had touched him, poked at him. Master didn’t want others touching him!
Unable to help it, he’d panicked. He’d tried to escape. To follow Master’s orders. But they’d stopped him. Finally someone had come and spoken with him, asking him questions, but he hadn’t answered. He knew better than to talk to strangers. So he’d stayed silent. Then people had been there, trying to dress him. He’d panicked again, but the doctor had stepped up, telling him “You can’t go in public naked, Dr. Reid. If you want to go to the station where your Master is, you have to put on clothes to get there.”
He had no idea who this Dr. Reid was—maybe the guy was talking to himself?—but he understood what he was being told. There were two choices. Follow Master’s orders and refuse clothes and stay here, or disobey Master’s orders about clothes and go to the station where he could be with Master. He’d donned the clothes.
Only until they’d put him in this room, though. Then he’d shed them, tossing them aside. He wasn’t allowed clothes. No, no. Someone had tried to come in, to drape a blanket over him and whisper quietly in his ear. He’d held perfectly still until she’d left. Then he threw the blanket in the corner as well. There was no point to fighting them physically. He’d found that out earlier. They would just overpower him again.
Master was going to be furious when they got home! He couldn’t help but flinch at that. Master would punish him for this. This was his fault, somehow. His fault. He was such a bad boy. Such trouble. Master was right to hurt him. He was lucky, so lucky, that Master let him live. So lucky.
The door to his room, his cell, opened. Every part of his body locked down tight. He never lifted his eyes from the floor.
There was a click of heels on the ground, two sets. Women, then. Some of the tension drained away. Women didn’t terrify him the way that Master did, the way that other men could. The officers had terrified him with their badges and guns and their hands. Women had…cared for him. No, no, he pushed that thought back, refusing to think of it. No.
One set of heels stopped about a half a foot in front of him. Black heels, he thought to himself. Sensible. Professional. As were the dark slacks. Then those long legs were shifting, bending, and the woman was squatting in front of him. Under a shelter of his hair, he snuck a peek. She was pretty. Dark hair, bright eyes, nice smile. He hoped Master didn’t find her. She was just his type.
“Hey there.” She said in a soft voice. The words caressed him. He closed his eyes, trying to shut it all off. No, he couldn’t go through this again. Not another girl. If he cared about her, Master would hurt her more. He’d learned that the hard way. Master hurt the ones that his boy cared about. The boy cared about no one else, now. Just his Master.
“Do you remember who I am?” The woman asked him.
Remember? He had never seen her before! But he couldn’t answer her. Master would punish him for talking. He wasn’t allowed to talk to strangers.
Another peek showed him that the woman was smiling. “It’s ok, it’s ok.” She told him gently. She sounded so kind! “You don’t have to worry about it. Maybe you’ll remember me later. My name is Emily. Can you tell me what your name is?”
Why was she still here, asking questions? Master was going to come soon. He always did. Especially when the pretty ladies were around. Oh, he hated watching Master hurt the pretty ladies. Hated it. They had only been trying to be nice to him. He hadn’t been able to save any of them. But…maybe he could save her. Maybe he had time.
“You need to leave.” He whispered from behind his hair.
The pretty lady, Emily, made a soft sound of surprise. “What?”
“You need to leave.” He tried again. “Before Master comes. Before he finds you. He’ll hurt you.”
There was quiet for a moment. “Does he hurt a lot of women?” Emily asked him kindly.
Didn’t she understand? She had to go! “Master hurts the pretty ladies. They make him mad. They…were nice to me. So he hurt them.” Other images came then, flashing in his brain, bringing the trembles to his small frame. No, he didn’t want to think about that. Didn’t want to think of those smiling lips, those pleading voices, the blood bright on his hands…
“How many pretty ladies did he hurt?” Again, Emily sounded so kind. He was already in trouble for talking, what more could it hurt? If he told her, maybe she’d run while she still had the chance. While she could still get free.
“Eighteen.” He said softly. Have to speak softly so Master didn’t catch him. But Master always caught him. Master always knew. “I tried to help them. I let him hurt me instead. It’s better when he hurts me. But the pretty ladies cry. They cry when I’m bad and he punishes me.” Pain leaked into his voice. “He’s going to punish me for talking to you.”
“Honey, no one’s going to tell him that you spoke, I promise you.”
“Master knows.” He whispered back. “Master always knows. He’ll punish me because I’m bad. I’m a bad, bad boy. I deserve it.”
Talking was wrong. Talking was against the rules. He knew that. Yet, he had still spoken to the pretty lady! Master had told him to follow all the rules. He knew what that meant. A shudder ran down him. He knew what he had to do. Master had told him, time and time again.
Curling his hands, he dug his nails into his legs, dragging them up his skin as hard as he could. Once, twice…
A soft exclamation and then the other heels were moving forward. Emily, pretty Emily, whispered something but the other lady ignored her. Brightly colored heels came into view as he scratched his legs again. Then this woman was kneeling too, mirroring his pose. Her hands came out and covered his.
He couldn’t help it, he jumped. But he couldn’t fight against a lady. No, that was against the rules too. Master told him to do as the ladies said. Hurting them was Master’s job. He didn’t like others hurting what was his.
Looking at the hands holding his, he noticed all the rings she wore. Against his will his eyes traveled up, his entire body perfectly still. Up, up, up, until he reached her face. For one single instant he felt everything in him freeze, locking down tight. All he could do was stare at her.
Stare at her professional, dark plaid dress, covered by a bright yellow jacket. The large, beaded necklace around her neck and the headband in her hair were both the same bright yellow, as were the large hoop earrings she wore. Her lips, painted a bright cherry red. Those black framed glasses. From the depths of his memory, buried deep in a place he didn’t allow himself to see, didn’t allow himself to feel, a name floated to the surface. “Garcia?”
He heard both her and Emily’s gasps, but his eyes were still locked on her. He knew her. He knew her. An image came, her sitting in a chair, a row of screens in front of her, toys all over her desk. She was laughing as her fingers flew over the keys. Always laughing. Penelope Garcia, who had a love for life like no one else.
He held his breath as he waited. Nothing else came with it. Just that single name, that one memory. It was too much. It was pain, sharp and hot inside of him. He knew her!
“Oh, baby.” Garcia whispered to him. Her hands gripped his, lacing their fingers together. “Yeah, it’s me. It’s Garcia.”
Before he realized it, words were pouring past his lips, hard and fast. “You have to get out of here, Garcia. You have to go now. Take the pretty lady with you. Please, hurry. Before he comes back! He’ll hurt you, all of you. I can’t let him hurt you. I won’t! Please, just go! Don’t turn around, don’t come back, don’t stop, and don’t listen. Go, go, go. Master will hurt you. I don’t want Master to hurt you.”
“I don’t want Master to hurt you either, baby cakes.”
“Master loves me.” He told her. His grip on her fingers tightened. “Master hurts me because I’m bad. Because I’m a bad boy. He takes care of me. But he’ll hurt you. Go. I’ll be bad, I’ll let him get mad so you can go.”
Tears built in Garcia’s eyes. He watched as they went down her cheeks in little rivers. She was crying for him. They all did, right up until the end. Each one of their tears was burned into his heart.
“Oh, sugar plum, no one’s going to hurt you anymore. I won’t let them.” Garcia stopped when Emily leaned in. Watching, he saw Emily whisper something in her ear. He couldn’t hear what it was. But then Garcia nodded. Her eyes came back to him. “Can you tell us a few things, sweetie?” She asked him. “Just Emily and me. We’re the only ones in here and I promise you, we won’t tell a soul you spoke. I promise that your Master doesn’t even know we’re in here. He won’t hurt any of us.”
She was big on promises. He remembered that about her. She was big on promises. Could…could he trust her? Though he knew he would be punished for it later, he couldn’t help but be selfish right now. If answering her questions kept her in here for a little while longer, if they were really safe like she said…he had to do it. For the first time in so long, he was looking at someone he knew. Even if what he remembered about her was so little, it was like a drug; he couldn’t let go. Before he could change his mind, he nodded.
“Good, good. Emily is going to ask you a few things, ok?”
Afraid she would move, he convulsively tightened his grip on her hands. When he realized what he’d done, he tried to let go and jerk his hands back, but she just gripped his fingers tighter. It wasn’t painful. It was…nice. He nodded again.
Emily’s voice joined in again, sweet and gentle. “Let’s try a few simple things first, ok?”
Simple, ok. He could do simple.
“What’s your name?”
That was easy. “Boy.” He told her.
The fingers holding his seemed to jerk for a minute. Garcia spoke next, slowly, as if she thought he’d misunderstood. “No, sweetie. Your name.”
“Boy.” He answered automatically. That was his name. Had he answered badly? Were they mad at him now?
But Emily seemed to draw a breath and move on. “Do you know where you are?”
“Fairfax, Virginia. At Division Headquarters in Division Seven with the Virginia State Police.”
“That’s right. We drove here from the FBI headquarters in Quantico. Do you know how far away that is?”
The answer came without thinking about it, like so many other moments in his life. “If you take the I-95 North to the VA-123 North then it would be twenty eight point twenty four miles and take approximately forty two minutes to arrive. If you took the US-1 north to the VA-123 north than it would be twenty seven point forty one miles. Or you could take just I-95 north and it would be thirty point eighteen miles. The easiest path but the longest time.”
A soft chuckle was the response to his ramble. He analyzed the sound, he had become good at judging moods in sounds, and decided that there was no anger or maliciousness to it. This was easy so far. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe Master wouldn’t be too mad when he found out.
“Ok, honey. We’re going to ask some things that are a little harder now, ok? But only if you’re ok with this.”
If he was ok with it? The idea flabbergasted him. He…he was never asked what he wanted to do. He was told. That was the rules. Mulling the idea of it over, he nodded at them. Garcia squeezed his hands reassuringly.
“You said your Master hurt eighteen women. Are any of them still alive?”
A shudder ran down him. He couldn’t force himself to say the word, so he shook his head no. Blood, everywhere, churning his stomach. God!
“So your Master killed all of them?”
Shock slammed into him like a fist to the gut. What? It was enough to have him breaking his pose, his face lifting to look at Emily head on. “What?” he croaked out. “No!” How could they think that? Didn’t they know the truth?
“It’s ok, honey, it’s ok.” Emily said soothingly, making soft gestures with her hands. “He can’t hurt you, we told you that. He’s not going to hurt you for telling us the truth.”
The truth? They wanted to know the truth? “Master didn’t kill them!” he insisted brokenly. Tremors grew and grew until they shook his whole body. Again he saw the blood, all over the floor, all over his hands, the past memory fusing over top of the present moment, sheening everything in that bloody haze. It was everywhere.
“If your Master didn’t kill them, then who did?” Emily asked him.
He let go of Garcia’s hands, lifting his up and looking at the palms. The red stayed there, staining his skin. No matter how often it was washed, it never went away. He had to tell her the truth. Had to, to save Master. This is what they took him for? Oh, he knew now what he was being punished. Why he was a bad boy. They had taken Master, but he hadn’t done what they said he did. “I did.”
“What?”
“I did.” He said softly. Then, louder. “I did.” Louder still, “I did it!”
Emily reached for him and all he knew was that she couldn’t touch him. Not the pretty lady. He couldn’t let her touch the blood that was on him. Couldn’t rub it off onto her. With a squeak he shot backwards, falling slightly as he did, his legs sliding out and knocking her over as well. It didn’t matter. He didn’t care. He shoved back to the corner, screaming at her as he did. “Go away, go away! No, no!”
There was the sound of footsteps outside the room. He couldn’t stop the panic. Emily tried to come to him and he shoved the chair nearby out into her path. “No! Go!”
Footsteps again, louder now. Master was coming. It didn’t matter. He rocked in his corner, staring at his hands, at the blood he could see there.
A gentle pair of hands touched him, trying to pull him forward. He pushed them away, screeching. He tried to yank back and hide. But they took hold of him, pulling him in, wrapping him tight in something that he hadn’t felt in so long. A hug.
He tried to break free without hurting her. He bucked, he screamed, he pushed against the wall, but those arms never let go. They held him close, his head cradled against her bosom, one hand coming up to stroke over his hair. “Shh, shh, baby. I’ve got you. It’s ok, I’ve got you.” She whispered to him. Garcia. Sweet, happy Penelope Garcia.
Someone said something, a deep male voice that sounded furious and it had him redoubling his efforts to break free. Then Garcia, her voice pleading “Emily!” And finally, through his own screams he heard Emily, her voice loud and commanding. “Everyone out! Out!”
Another voice, this one male. It tugged on his mind, almost familiar. “Clear the room, now!”
Then none of it mattered anymore. None of it was important. Panic grew and grew, taking over every inch of him. In the arms of the only person in the world beside Master that he could remember, the boy broke apart and sobbed. He cried until his body couldn’t take it anymore and dragged him down into the peacefulness of the darkness.
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