TOO MANY QUESTIONS
Do not trust your memory; it is a net full of holes; the most beautiful prizes slip through it: - Georges Duhamel,
A/N: You know who you are. Thank you for in inspiration! Pb
The prologue
(THE GRAVEROBBER)
It was a dark and stormy night. He'd given it a few more months…easier to do this in the spring. When there has been a lot of rain.
The head stone stands shiny and wet….a little row of golden pebble resting on the top of the big marble stone.
"Tonight." He whispers to himself…the rain pouring in torrents…sticking his thick dark hair to his face and neck. There is someone watching him from the shelter of a big old tree…another person with long dark hair…standing with a look on impatience. His arms wrapped tightly around himself…his head cocked slightly to one side. A smoke burning in his mouth…and a gun slung at this side.
Back to the one talking to himself who glances at the person watching him and then looks back down at the ground…
The thunder rolls….the lightening flashes…Someone somewhere screams and a dog barks.
And he starts to dig…
Talking all the time…"I'm on my way babes."
His long dark coat is getting water logged and dirty as he disturbs the earth and slowly turns it to a stinking clay heavy mud…One spade full after another…throwing it haphazardly to the side. "Not long now." He mutters down into the hole just before he jumps down.
The watcher leaves his shelter and walks over to the edge of the grave. He looks at the row of pebbles and swipes them away with the back of his hand. Then he looks down into the hole. "You want a smoke? A drink?" He asks. And gets a quick nod in return.
"Yes…yes." He mutters…and though he is digging and dirty covered he doesn't sound out of breath. He is working quickly. "Fucking thing is filling with shit." He says as a muddy hand accepts the smoke from the boy.
"It would do dad….its pissing it down."
The two pairs of eyes lock for a moment and they grin at each other.
"Wise beyond your years my boy, now the drink?"
And a silver hip flask is passed over….
A contented sigh and another smile.
The digging starts again…and the boy moves back away from the widening deepening hole in the ground. "Dad…shall I get the other done while I'm waiting."
The sounds of the digging stops and a filthy face looks up. "Good idea. Just don't get caught."
"I could say the same of you. Don't for fuck's sake get caught."
"Don't you fucking swear at me boy."
But the younger of the two is bending down and picking up a tool off the ground. "Screw you areshole." He mutters under his breath…and walks off into the storm leaving digger down his hole.
The rain continues to fall but it doesn't slow him down and eventually the sound of the metal hitting wood can be heard…and a small chuckle of relief. The job will be easier now that there is light…so the speak – at the end on the tunnel. The sound of soft singing can be heard but the words are too soft and mumbled and dirt filled to make sense to anyone but the person singing…Eventually the guy bounces from the hole and crouches on the edge, looking around…looking for Sam…who is not yet back from doing his job. He stays crouched on his haunches and lights up a dark smoke from a battered pack…it's a messy hand rolled cheroot and the smell is vile…but it puts a smile on the graverobbers face.
He moves slightly and looks at the stone…the writing deeply engraved into it…He kisses his fingers and gently traces over the name…slowly erasing it as he goes.
"Hey."
A voice from the dark.
And he stands and watches the boy come over with a metal container in his hand.
"Well done. I need some help here now…" and the boy drops the container down into the grass and runs over to the tree. He fetches back with him a dark blue blanket and he stands holding it and sighs.
"You totally sure about this?" He asks his dad.
"couldn't be more sure."
"You know each time it corrupts slightly don't you? I cant keep doing this."
"I know."
"You might not get another go."
"I know that too….are you going to help or just stand there."
Raised eyebrows and a nod. "Go for it then." And he watches his dad jump back down…and hears the sound of his fathers booted feet landing on wood. Now he crouches down glancing at the urn in the grass and then down the hole.
There is a sound of splintering of wood….and a small moan of…maybe it is delight…or maybe it is grief. The boy picks up the urn and jumps down there too with the blanket.
The crouch…and wrap the blanket over their heads…the boy keeps them sheltered whilst trying not to look at the body in the box…The grave robber lights four candles and then leans forwards and touches the hair in the grave.
"Hey Babes…I said I'd come for you. I'd never let you down."
The lid is pulled off the urn and the contents scattered. He looks over at the younger version of himself who is holding a large golden watch on a long heavy golden chain.
"Ready?"
A nod.
"Go for it."
-o-o-o-
The thunder carries on and the lightening cracks down between some distant trees.
Two man stand alone in a field.
The both have puzzled looks on their faces as they walk slowly in a tight circle.
The stars shine brightly overhead and the full moon looks huge and bright. For as far as you can see there is…
Nothing….
Well …the field….and trees.
"Sam?" He looks at his mud splattered son who is now rubbing the dirt off of the watch. "Sam!"
"What?!" He snaps back at his father.
"Exactly how far back did you bring us?"
A sigh. "It was dark…there was fucking mud everywhere!"
"And."
"And nothing."
"Exactly…that's what I see…nothing." Hands now stuffed deep in his pockets.
"Mistakes happen!"
"Evidently."
"No one is perfect!"
A nod. "Obviously."
"You want to try again?"
"Definitely."
"You going to stop talking to me like that?"
"Eventually."
The two hold onto each other with one hand and Sam spins the watch again.
Chapter one
I cant put my finger on it.
Something is wrong.
There is something different about … most everything. But…no…if asked what it was I wouldn't be able to tell you.
Something though is wrong.
I sit at my desk and stare at the forms in front of me. My pen gripped too tightly in my hand as I listen to the conversations going on around me – rather I hear them but don't listen.
My eyes are tired…my soul is tired. I want to go home and soak in the tub…
It is still only two in the afternoon…a long day yet.
So I look back down at the pen and see that I have been drawing circles over the form. So I sigh and pick it up in my left hand and screw it up and bin it.
Someone somewhere is laughing.
I don't feel like this is the place for laughs today. I don't know why…
Something just feels wrong.
The pen gets put down and I stand and pick up my messenger bag.
"Hey kiddo…where are you going?" and I turn slowly and look at Morgan and horrible images start flashing before my eyes…and so I squeeze them tightly shut.
Has it started? Is this what I have been waiting for all my life?
"Home." I say to him. "I'm going home"
I should tell Hotch…I turn and I can see he is looking down at me from his office. I don't want to talk to him. I cant face him…not today…again images flashing…Almost like a premonition, but somehow not and I'm not going to go up there and tell him I am seeing things.
It's the start.
I turn back to look at Morgan. "I don't feel too well." I say…as I see the back of his head explode over and over again. I can taste blood. I can feel a terrible pain in my hands and I sit back down again before I fall down. Really I don't know if I can make it to the elevator.
"Do you need a ride home?"
But his voice is foggy and distorted now….and I cant go home with him…I want to just teleport home. I just….need….I don't …….
-o-o-o-
He has been acting strangely recently and I am worried about him. The last case we had I managed to keep him back at base going over maps most of the time. He looks ill…Sometimes…the way he looks at me as though I am a stranger. I think I know what is going on but, I hope…god I hope he's not slipped back and doing drugs. I stand and watch him from my window and I want to reach out for him…get him to come here…confide in me…but I know he wont. I know he is scared.
He thinks he is cracking up.
I can tell.
I can see by that look…the scared rabbit…deer caught in the headlights look about him.
Maybe he just needs rest.
I watch as he sits back down again and Morgan steps forwards…and Reid puts a hand up to stop him…and he slides…very gracefully to the floor. I am out of my office and into the bullpen before you can blink. Morgan is there kneeling on the floor looking worried and touching Spencer's face.
"Derek?"
Morgan looks up at me as I begin to crouch down next to the man I secretly adore.
"He fainted." And the hands are gently slapping him. "Reid buddy…wake up." And it is a relief initially as his eyes flutter open and he looks around at us.
"Get him some water." I tell him…I have to distract him. I don't like what I am seeing, so as Derek moves off I take Spencer's hand. "It's just me Spencer." But the look of terror on his face cannot be disguised. Prentiss is standing there her eyes almost stupidly too big as she takes in the expression on Reid's face.
-o-o-o-
I'm curled up on my bed and Hotch is here and I want him to go away. Please just go and leave me alone…but I don't think he is going to.
"What's going on Reid?" He is sitting on the corner of my bed fiddling with the corner of the bedding. I want to tell him…but I cant…I cant even look at him.
"I just have a bad head." I say…which covers so many grounds I feel it will suffice.
"Do I need to call a doctor?"
"No – no Hotch I will be ok."
"I'll stay the night." He sounds determined to get to the bottom of this….but I still don't want to even look up at him…I get sudden taste of blood in my mouth again and it causes me to curl up even tighter…
"No. I want to be alone." I mumble into my pillows. "Please Hotch…go."
I feel the weight leaving the end of the bed and I hear him sigh. "You know how to reach me….I'm not happy leaving you like this."
"I know…I need to be alone."
And a exhaling of breath as he walks away. "Please Reid take the rest of the week off at least. Rest. Call a doctor."
I mumble something he wouldn't be able to hear…I don't even know what it was….but I hear him leave and close my bedroom door. I put my hands to my face and test to see if there is blood. There doesn't seem to be any. I don't know why it feels as though I have been drinking blood.
As soon as I hear the front door close I am up off the bed and moving at speed to the bathroom.
I run water into the tub and strip off throwing my dirty clothes into the corner of the room. I stand in front of the bathroom mirror and inspect my body. I have a scar across my chest but I have no memory of how I got it. There is a mark on my arm too…left arm…but it too seems – I don't know…like it wasn't there yesterday. It's not familiar. Look closer for other marks and dents in my skin…I try to place incidents for each…and for most I can…but the one on my chest and arm? I have no idea. I look now at my hands…my joints hurt…it feels as though I have been punching something in anger…but again I cant put a reason to it.
The water is ready in the tub now…so I add bubbles and slide into the warm water….this is what I have been needing all day…a long soak…and….
……..and there is something else…someone else…but by head is confusing me. I feel it for lumps and bumps wondering if I fell and hit my head…but I find nothing…So I soap up my hair and slide under the water and just relax and try to forget.
It is early evening and I am curled up on my chair with a book I haven't read before and a big mug of coffee when the doorbell goes.
I nibble on my bottom lip and get up to answer it. I'm in my pyjamas and a tatty bathrobe…but that's alright…it will be Hotch checking up on me.
The locks are quickly pulled back and I swing the door open. It has to be Hotch as he is the only person who has the pass for the downstairs security door…
I frown…well Hotch and this person standing at me door staring at me anyway.
"Shit Spence…you're not ready." And he pushes me out of the way and walks in kicking the door closed behind him. "Hurry up babes…Don't want to be too late."
But I just stand and look at him…
Beautiful he may be….
Looking good definitely…
But I don't know who he is.
So I stand and carry on nibbling on my bottom lip and watch him move around in my kitchen…I watch closely…he knows where my things are kept…he's been here before.
"Excuse me." I say quietly. "Do I know you?"
And he turns to look at me and the happy face I could see when he walked in has gone and is replaced by a sad one. "Oh shit…you've forgotten again?"
I shrug as he pulls something out of his pocket and puts it on the counter. A small photo album.
"I'm Floyd. I am your lover. You have a shit memory and keep forgetting. Did you see the doctor today?"
Slowly I move forward and pick up the photos…pictures of this Floyd me in various places. I definitely know him "Doctor?"
He walks over to me and puts his hands on my shoulders. "You had an appointment to see a doctor today…about…" And he taps my forehead. "Your memory lapses….and erm…visions."
So I slowly shake my head and he responds by nodding his. "No worries…go get changed…we'll call him again tomorrow after work or something."
"I erm…I have the week off."
"Even better…I can come with you tomorrow…go and get dressed...We are going out." And he is smiling and going back to making a coffee. "Or we can stay in and I can screw your brains out."
A/N: hhmm…this is the start…want me to carry on?
