Disclaimer: see my profile
A/n this is a result of what I read into Dianna's mention of her nickname for Spencer as a child. I don't know that TPTB at CM are hinting that Dianna was abusive to Reid as a child, but it is a possibility in my mind. This is not intended to be lighthearted, obviously. You have been warned!
"No! You're not leaving this house," Dianna insisted. "Go to your room!"
"I can't; I have to go to school, mom."
"I said you're not leaving this house. It's too dangerous." She shoved him back, and he nearly stumbled into the kitchen table. "They're watching us, Spencer. Do you want them to take me away?"
"No, mom. Please let me go to school."
"No," she shrieked and her face twisted into a rictus of rage. "Do as I tell you and go to your room."
He tried to dodge around her, but her anger and paranoia made her quick and agile. She grabbed him and swung him around. "You will do as I say. I'm your mother." Her hand flashed out and slapped him so hard it was like a bomb went off under his cheek.
He wailed in pain and pulled away from her. "I hate you," he screamed and ran up the stairs to his room. He slammed the door shut and shoved a chair under the knob. He threw himself down on his unmade bed and began to sob. Anger flashed over him, and he wished she'd go away and die.
CMCMCMCMCMCMCMCM
"Spencer." He rolled over and looked at the door, with the chair blocking access. "What's wrong, baby. You're late for school."
He recognized the change in her voice. His kind and understanding mother was back; her demons locked away for who knew how long. He got up from the bed, moved the chair and opened the door.
"Hey, why are you still here. You're an hour late. You'll miss your math test."
"I don't want to go, mom."
She reached out and touched his cheek. He hissed and flinched away. "What happened to your face, sweetheart?"
"I walked into the door," he said after studying her expression for a minute. It was obvious she didn't remember. She never remembered the damage she did to him.
"Oh, Crash, when will you grow out of your clumsiness?"
"I better go."
He grabbed his bookbag, and hurried out of his bedroom and then out of the house. Hopefully, no one would notice the red mark on his cheek, or if he were lucky, it would fade before he had to think of another excuse to placate the teachers at school.
Dr. Spencer Reid blinked his eyes and reached up to touch his face where she'd hit him. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and clenched his teeth together so hard; it made his teeth ache. He'd sworn on the day he'd had his mother committed that he'd never let her hit him again. The abuse was supposed to be over, but just like when he was eleven, he stood staring at another mark she'd put on his face. Thank God, he didn't have to go to work. If the team saw the red marks on his cheek, they'd interrogate him until he had to admit that his mother put them there.
Let them find out. Tell them everything and let them help you.
He bowed his head and tried to keep the tears of shame from rolling down his cheeks, but he couldn't stem the flow.
Why did you bring her here? What were you thinking?
He pulled the vial of an experimental drug from his pocket and stared at it. He'd only wanted to make her better, but she wasn't improving.
You're a grown man, and she belted you like a child.
He looked at the red marks from her hand on his cheek and thought of all the victims of abuse he'd met in his job. Some of them never escaped and became monsters. Some of them became productive adults and some of them, like him never dealt with it, just locked it away, like he'd locked away his mother.
She had no right to hit you.
He looked at the vial, the one he'd rescued from her destruction. Was it worth it? He'd broken his personal code of ethics to obtain it, so was it worth it? Was bringing her into his home and letting her treat him like a child worth it.
He looked at his face again and saw the child in his eyes, the haunted child that suffered bullying at school, only to face worse at home.
Please, Spencer. Don't let her hurt me.
He shut his eyes against the voice of the child in his head. He had no choice but to follow through on his current course of action. He looked away from the haunted eyes in the mirror and decided to find a new hiding place for his mother's medication.
Spencer, please help me.
He ignored the voice that was his eleven-year-old self and hurried out of the bathroom. He'd get back to helping the team with their case. He'd use work to distract him while his mother napped in the other room. He'd ignore the pleading child behind his eyes because there was no other option.