This little story came to me rather suddenly. What led me to it is a long story; Jenny Crum is privy to a fair amount of it. I'm sure similar stories have been done, and if mine seems a little too much like someone else's then I apologize, there was no infringement intended. For right now, this is a one shot, but if ya'll want more, review or hit me up on FB and let me know.
"Out, damned spot! out, I say!" (William Shakespeare, Macbeth)
"Macbeth: How does your patient, doctor?
Doctor: Not so sick, my lord, as she is troubled with thick-coming fancies that keep her from rest.
Macbeth: Cure her of that! Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased, pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow, raze out the written troubles of the brain, and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon her heart.
Doctor: Therein the patient must minister to himself." (William Shakespeare, Macbeth)
She scrubbed her hands vigorously under the steaming hot water; it was burning so badly she should have been screaming in agony. But even with the soap, the blood wouldn't come out of her hands; in her mind she could still see them covered in his blood. To the outside world there wasn't a drop left on them. They were spotless. The only thing red about her hands now would be the fact that she had scrubbed them almost to the point of being raw.
That man had seemed so nice four days ago when they met in the coffee shop. He had a dazzling smile; he was tall, dark hair, shining eyes. He was gorgeous. Physically he was as close to what she had been looking for in a man, he should have been damned near perfect. He had been short a couple of dollars of being able to buy some coffees for him and his work friends, so she had offered to buy it for him. She was running late herself and hadn't wanted to get held up much longer. That was before he turned around and she saw him for the first time. After that, she would have quit her job to be able to stand there and look at him all day.
At first she thought he would be offended by a woman offering to buy his drink for him, but he was actually grateful. He told her that it was his first week on the job, and he was apparently going through the company hazing. He asked for her number so he could take her to the movies or to dinner sometime as a 'Thank You'.
After her time in the BAU she should have known better than to do something like that; but her time spent as Garcia's friend had lulled her into wanting to give people a chance to be better. She gave the man the number to her cell with a wink.
That had led her to where she was. They had gone out to a movie, some chick flick. She didn't even really care for them usually, but for a date night, it seemed appropriate. He had initially wanted to pick her up at her apartment, but she had a strict rule about not allowing strangers to know where she lived. It would be several dates before she ever let him near her apartment. She told him they could meet at the theater. It was a well-lit public place and there were enough people there that she felt safe with her decision. After the film he had walked her back to her car, leaning into the window talking to her as she fastened her seatbelt and cranked the car. He had asked about a second date. She told him she was unsure of when her schedule would allow for that; she honestly travelled a lot for her job. He seemed bummed out about that, but he said that he understood.
Once home, she made her way into her apartment, shutting and locking the door. Before she could get as far as her sofa in the living room, the door flew open, being kicked almost off its hinges. She had no time to turn around to see who the culprit was; he grabbed her from behind, wrapping one arm around her neck and one arm snaked around her waist, poking her with a knife in her left side.
"All I wanted was a second date!" the man yelled into her ear.
Now she knew who it was. "Awesome taste in men I've got. Perhaps, if I make it out of this I can see if there is an opening at the local convent."
"I told you….."
"Shut up! I heard what you said! Now, you're going to listen to me!"
He shoved her to the floor. As soon as she hit the floor she began to scramble away from him, turning around to sit on her butt, to get her bearings. She knew there was no way to get to her room and the safe where she kept one of her guns hidden. She thought about the kitchen, but he was equal distance from it and already upright. She had little other choice than to try to engage him physically.
They got into a physical altercation. She had to try to get that knife away from him if for no other reason than to merely disarm him.
After rolling around on the floor, he had her pinned down on her back; he was holding both of her hands above her head in one of his large hands, his grip bordering on excessive. With his free hand he had hidden the knife where she couldn't see it and began pulling her clothes off of her, ripping her blouse, sending buttons flying everywhere. With that done he brought the knife back into view cutting her slacks away from her body.
That was really all she remembered until she pushed him off of her, looking down on herself, blood all over the front of whatever was left of her clothes. She slid out from under his body; half walking, half crawling, stumbling her way down the hall to the bathroom, she began trying to wash the blood from her hands.
If she could just get it off of her hands, she could worry about the rest later.
The steam from the water began to fog up the bathroom mirror. The longer it took to wash the blood off she began to really panic.
"He couldn't really be dead, could he?"
She didn't hear a sound coming from the other room, so she set the soap aside and left the water running as she went to go check in the living room. Peeking around the corner she saw one of his legs showing from behind where his body was on the floor behind the sofa. She came farther into the room and could see blood pooling under the body.
With that she ran back into the bathroom and began to scrub harder with more soap. Once she finally broke skin with the force of the scrubbing she cried out with the agony that she felt as the soap burned. That was the only thing that stopped her scrubbing. She wrapped a hand towel around her hand to keep it from bleeding. She couldn't stand to see any more blood tonight. With her wrapped hand she wiped the mirror and looked at her reflection; she didn't look like herself anymore. She looked less like herself now more than when she left the BAU.
Fearing going back out into the living room with a dead man and a pool of blood, Elle slid down the wall to sit on the bathroom floor, she was dazed. She had done it again; only this time, she was very much acting in self-defense. But that didn't stop the thoughts and images that flooded her mind.
Would she ever be able to get rid of them?
"Like A Stone" (Audioslave)
On a cob web afternoon,
In a room full of emptiness
By a freeway I confess
I was lost in the pages of a book full of death;
Reading how we'll die alone.
And if we're good we'll lay to rest,
Anywhere we want to go.
In your house I long to be;
Room by room patiently,
I'll wait for you there like a stone.
I'll wait for you there alone.
And on my deathbed I will pray to the gods and the angels,
Like a pagan to anyone who will take me to heaven;
To a place I recall, I was there so long ago.
The sky was bruised, the wine was bled, and there you led me on.
In your house I long to be;
Room by room, patiently,
I'll wait for you there like a stone.
I'll wait for you there alone, alone.
And on I read until the day was gone;
And I sat in regret of all the things I've done;
For all that I've blessed, and all that I've wronged.
In dreams until my death I will wander on.
In your house I long to be;
Room by room, patiently,
I'll wait for you there like a stone.
I'll wait for you there alone, alone.
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Post AN: So there goes a nearly 1,500 word tantrum. Lemme know if ya'll want more or not. Peace out.
