THE CANDY SUCKERS

Once in a young lifetime one should be allowed to have as much sweetness as one can possibly want and hold. -Judith Olney

I couldn't think of a name but that really wasn't important right now. I'd had a million and one thoughts going through my head since my decision to do this and this is where we are at.

The Shop…

I call it that for want of a better description, is in a small backstreet. The buildings here are cramped together for the most part but this little beauty has a small dirt track to one side of it, which leads to garages and a scruffy little parking area, and a private drive way the other side of it leading the to the kitchen and a big workshop. If I'd drawn out the plans specially it couldn't have worked out better. It had been used in the past as a bakery, so kitchens were there and usable. The workshop had been used for motor repairs at some distant past but right now was vacant. The other shops down this little street were a barbers and a cobblers and a picture framers and a tobacconists. A shop selling hand embroidered kids clothes stood directly opposite and next to my drive way was a place which did quilting. It was a quiet place but for the fact right at the end was the school. Every morning a load of kids and parents walked right past what would be the most alluring shop in the street. They wont be able to keep their brats away from my front door once I get started for real.

The shop its self is not very big. Not much more than a counter and a few shelves, but that is all I need really. Directly behind this room is a small lounge where I can ensconce Spencer when I'm in the front. Until he is able to do the serving that is. Beyond that room is the kitchen belonging to the flat, rather than the works kitchen, and a flight of stairs between the two which takes you up to a bathroom and two bed rooms.

Now here is the next thing. Do I insist on sharing with Spencer or do we stay apart. He has shown no sign of wanting me yet and I'm keeping away from him in that manner until he does and so it seems right that we have separate rooms. I'm telling people that he is my kid brother who is suffering withdrawing from drugs, which is partly true as drugs are involved here, only it's me drugging him. He still goes off into wild screaming howling rages if I don't keep him sedated. I'm hoping to be up and running by the Christmas holidays. Although by then there will be no kids going to school, so I'll have to get my street team out. OK I will have to hand out flyers. I don't think Spence is even ready to do that yet. Simple instructions he is coping with now. And he doesn't stink.

He's eating better too and that sickly thin appearance is slowly waning, but he's still too thin, and still sickly looking for anyone else. For me he is beginning to look more like Spencer. He doesn't feel like him yet though.

I got a bloke in to paint what needed to be painted and varnish what needed to be done. I got someone else in the put down a nice new floor I could better keep clean. Kids are filthy animals. Dirty feet, sticky hands, revolting things really, but that's hardly the point. The point here is to fix my boy and to have fun at the same time.

I've cleaned and scrubbed and scraped at every surface in the place. I've got in beds and bedding and even new clothing for him and I've got a great new two man shower thing installed. The plumber wanted to know who the lucky lady was. I grabbed his arse and winked. He didn't ask again. He did a good job though. It looks fabulous, but I've not used it. A two man shower really needs to be baptised with the two men in question.

-o-o-o-

I sit all day.

I sit all day and listen to him moaning on and on about things. I don't want to be here but if he's not around I'm either sleeping or cuffed to something to stop me getting away.

I feel so tired.

I feel so confused.

I don't know where I am and I don't know who he is. I don't think I know who he is. Sometimes I get a flash of memory and something will feel or sound familiar. He will touch my arm or take my hand and it will feel nice, but I don't know why. He stares at me. When it's dark outside and he's stopped with the cleaning or boiling of sugar he will stand leaning against the wall and he will stare at me for hours. He wont move. His eyes constantly on me. If I'm not restrained and I'm free to walk around he follows me. He even follows me to the bathroom. He runs the tub for me and adds bubbles and tells me to wash.

I have a small bedroom and a large bed which I am always so sleepy by the time I arrive at that I cant do anything but sleep. Sometimes he cuffs my hands to a ring set in the wall and then leaves and locks the door. Sometimes he spends the night sitting in the corner of my room watching me.

I'd ask for help.

If I could.

He doesn't let me talk to people though. He keeps me away from them.

A few times I had the energy to fight him. To try and get away, but he held me down and forced things in my mouth and though I kicked and screamed and begged for help from someone, nothing happened. No one came. I don't know why no one can see what he is doing to me. Why has no one asked questions of it?

I don't understand.

There is a park. A small park where he takes me sometimes. Mainly on early evenings. When it's not raining or snowing, or doing anything else dire he'll take me t the park, but I'm always too tired to do anything once we get there.

One time, just this once I felt something. I knew it was wrong what was happening, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He feeds the birds. He brings bits of bread and throws it for them and I know he's going to do this so I wait. I wait until he gets up and walks away from me and I move. I get up and run. I make it as far as the park gates before he is on my back. There are people there watching and I really don't know what they thought was going on. I was shouting at them for help. Asking them, begging them to get him off me but they just stood and watched and made "tutting" noises and one guy even helped him by holding my hands above my head whilst Floyd pushed something into my mouth. He was talking to me all the time. 'Its OK. It's going to be alright.' He keeps saying but I think he is talking to himself not me. How can this be alright?

'Please someone help me.' I say.

'I am helping you Spencer. It's OK.' He says and I can see people slowly walking away from us and my hands are released and I am lying just inside the park gates on the rough stone pathway and now he is hissing at me. 'Don't you try anything like that again you idiot. Cant you see I'm trying to help you here? Get up. We have to go back now.' And he is dragging me to my feet, but I can hardly walk straight now and I can feel the energy slowly being sapped as we make our way back. I am nearly asleep by the time I sit on the couch in the small back room. When I wake up again it's dark and he is there against the wall watching me. My head is pounding and I feel sick. I've been stripped down to my pants and shirt.

He is smoking. Always when he's not with the sugar he is smoking. He smiles at me when my eyes meet his and something is there. Something about him and puts a strange twisting in my stomach and I take in a deep breath. Slowly he leaves his wallside refuge and approaches me. He doesn't sit on the couch but knees on the floor next to my booted feet. 'Hey you.' He says to me and a hand rests on my leg and I want to reach out and touch his hair. I want to feel if he is real because it is making my head spin and I think I'm going to be sick.

'Hey.' I say back and the back of my fingers are touching his cheek and there is something here I know. Somewhere deep inside of me there is something, but it's not going to let me know what that thing is today. I move my hand back again and pull away from him. The feeling has gone. Once again he is a stranger. 'Can I have one?' I motion to the cigarettes he has and he sighs and moves back.

'Sure – but you don't smoke.'

'Oh.' And I push my boots off and pull my feet up onto the couch and he doesn't give me a smoke but he makes me a hot sweet coffee and then stands with this back against the wall again watching me. Waiting for something.

-o-o-o-

I wanted to get rid of it.

I didn't want this thing growing in me, but, but it's a life and no matter how repulsed I am by the whole situation I cant kill it.

I went to the clinic and had a scan and saw this thing living inside me and I vomited and I cried and I curled up in the clinic on the bed and made the biggest fuss ever, but still I can't get rid of it. They offer me someone to talk to but the person I need to talk to has disappeared off the face of the planet.

I still spend my evenings looking out of the window but it is for a different reason now. I'm not longing for him to arrive I am living in fear that he does.

He said he would come back, but I told him I was getting rid of it. Of her. It is a girl. He told me it would be. Now I lie on my bed and rub my hands over my slightly swollen abdomen. I can't work. I've been signed off for now. Too pregnant and too unstable. I keep bursting into very uncharacteristic tears and I spend a lot of time in the ladies room trying not to be sick. I think Hotch wanted to keep me there to keep an eye on me, but there really was no point. I can't do field work and staying behind was just making the whole thing feel worse.

The sudden hammering on the door is a pleasant release from the tension I am feeling right now. I slide off the bed and pull my clothes back of properly as I pad my way to my door.

Why I did it I don't know. I opened the door without checking and the person the other side wasn't Hotch as I had expected, it's a shorter younger much dirtier version of Floyd. He smirks a grubby face at me and raised hid eyebrows. 'Gonna let me in as we are virtually related?' And he's pushed his way past me and into my apartment.

'Dad can't be here right now.' He tells me. 'So I thought I'd keep an eye on your for him. I'd glad to see you didn't get rid of it.' He points to my stomach which I suddenly feel very protective over. 'I'll look after you if you let me stay here.'

'Ah…no. Get out.'

'I won't bring anyone back with me, but I'm getting noticeably dirty. They like their whores a bit cleaner. At least so they don't stink quite as much. You don't mind if I use your shower do you Aunt Em. I won't be long.' And he is stripping off in my lounge.

'Get the hell out!' I shout at him now but to no avail. He is almost naked now and I can see how thin and scrawny he actually is and how dirty. When he pushes down his boxer shorts I turn my back and walk to the bathroom. I want to scream and be sick and call Hotch, but all that will wait. I stay calm. I have to stay calm. I turn on the water and put out fresh towels and soap. I then manage to get out of the room and let him enter without looking at him. I let out a long sigh of relief when the door closes and I know he is in there and I'm out here. I grab his revolting clothing and quickly go to my small laundry room and put all of this dirty clothes in the wash. I add extra soap and turn on the machine …I then grab my cell phone and make a call.

'Hotch. Sam is here.'

I don't have to say more. He will be here.

-o-o-o-

A few more days and we can open. I've prepared stuff until there is no room left in the candy jars. I sort of specialise in sugar candy of all shapes and flavours. I've made round minty ones and ones on sticks that taste of strawberries. I have tiny sugar strands and big sugar and nutty chunks. I have made ones that look like eye balls…and I've made sugar houses and dogs and cats and horses. I've made a sugar Santa's and sugar reindeer and I will make anything you request – out of sugar. I love the giant jars of sucking candies and today the school lets out early. It is the final day before the Christmas holidays and so outside the shop I set up a small table. I pull on an apron. I wash and shave and I put on a pair of glasses. Spencer I haul out drugged up and drooling and place him on a chair where I can keep an eye on him and today I had out candies for free.

Except it's not really for free is it? Nothing is ever for nothing. The candy Santa comes with an extra something special.

I need to make sure I get repeat custom.

They take the candy and I smile at the stinking brats and at the parents who are looking at me with suspicion and at Spencer with slight alarm, but they'll do nothing. I smile back and wish them happy holidays and as the candy slips into their mouths the look of confusion and disgust and doubt leaves their faces and they smile back and take their vile offspring by their hands and walk away.

They will be back though. I clear up the mess left behind and take it all back to the shop and then gently guide Spencer back again.

And it happens.

Just like that.

'Floyd?' he sounds confused and nervous.

'Spence?' He is standing in the middle of the lounge looking around him.

'Where have you been?' Oh god …he looks so lost and vulnerable. I want to have him so badly. This is my Spence. This is who I have been waiting for.

'I've been right here babes. Waiting for you to come back to me.'

A/N: This is an obvious carry on from the last one…I felt I needed a new beginning. Thanks for reading. Pbxxx