Woah, sorry for the absolutely long time that it's taken me to post this here. I guess real life swamped me for awhile, but since I've finally paused for a bit of a breather, here is part two! Same warnings from the last part apply, though there isn't really anything explicit in here yet.
Disclaimer: I don't own CM! Nope, most definitely not. If I did, canon would have stopped moving forward after the end of season 5. : P
Warnings: Future slash, future talk of unpleasant things (suicide, self-harm, psychopathy, etc.), and just a lot of craziness.
Divergence
Part II: The Plea
"The continuous narrative of existence is a lie. There is no continuous narrative, there are lit-up moments, and the rest is dark."
~Jeanette Winterson
"Dr. Reid," Nathan says again, voice small and tremulous, and God, how long has it been since he's been addressed like that?
Spencer finds himself swallowing. Hard.
"Yeah?" He says, and suddenly, it's like no time at all has passed in between then (Whatever it says on my psych eval...you promise that you'll tell me the truth?) and now ("Oh, I'm sorry sir, could I clean up the spill? Sir? Your coffee…").
He doesn't bother with formalities like 'how are you' in part because he's afraid of the answer he's going to get, but also because he doesn't think Nathan would want him to bother such things either.
Sir, are you okay? You're starting to get the other customers worried…
Reid gives himself a firm mental shake and moves out of the way of the barista, who has brought an old washcloth out from behind the counter to try to clean up the mess on the floor.
"I...I need help."
Reid's blood runs cold. The café drops away from his consciousness as if it's made of paint and paper instead of brick and mortar. The café doesn't matter at all to him, not when Nathan is on the line. His mind is already spinning with possibilities- what if he's killed someone has he hurt himself is he still being cared for at the hospital–
"Where are you, Nathan?"
There's no hesitation in his voice at all, and upon closer inspection, Reid really does find it funny. Even with his heart in his stomach and his mind spinning tirelessly away, he will do anything he can for Nathan. It's just something about that voice, about that ashamed look in those eyes that radiates self-loathing, that makes Reid weak to him.
He has always had two weaknesses, really: Dilaudid and Nathan Harris. One helped him to shut his brain off as if he were a machine, and the other reminded him of his own humanity in more ways than just one.
"I'm by t-the public library over here in West End."
West End. If memory served him correctly (and it almost always did, really), the George Washington University was located right by the end of the district. But as for the public library, it was probably-
"Over by 24th Street?" Reid says, and he hears Nathan exhale into the phone in what he assumes is a nod of assent.
"Yeah," Nathan says a few seconds later, and then goes completely silent.
"Stay right where you are," Reid says, "I'm coming to get you."
"You promise?" Nathan whispers, and Reid is momentarily caught off-guard by the resurfacing of a sudden memory.
(My mom says a promise doesn't count unless you say it out loud.)
"I promise," Reid says, as some indescribable emotion floods through his system, "I'll be there as soon as I can."
Reid's heartbeats are so loud that he doesn't hear Nathan's response.
In all, it takes him forty minutes and twenty-three seconds to pull up by the curbside of the library. Forty minutes is much too long. What if Nathan had left in the meanwhile? Or even worse, what if he'd bled out on the pavement, lost and alone?
He shuts off the engine of his car, unheeding of the bold 'NO PARKING' sign posted a few feet down the street (he's a federal agent, he tells himself, he really should know better than to break the rules), untangles himself from his seatbelt, and makes a mad dash to the library's main doors. What if-
He stops short when he sees a spindly form by the doorway, head down, swaddled in a black turtleneck and a large coat.
It's almost a shock, really, to see Nathan standing on his own. The line of Nathan's neck and shoulders is as elegant as always, and Reid's heart stutters just a little bit, but he chalks it up to the relief of seeing Nathan alive and breathing. After all, he'd seen him last as he straddled the teenager's hips on a motel bed, pressing his hands to those pale and bloodied wrists.
He takes another step forward and Nathan, sensing his presence, looks up at him.
Like the café just a mere hour before, the street, the sidewalk, and the library itself almost completely fall away from his line of sight.
"I knew you'd come," Nathan says, and God, it almost hurts to look into those eyes after years of wondering and wishing and dreaming about them.
(I knew that if you were really good, you'd find me…what do you mean, get caught?)
"I promised, didn't I?"
The ghost of a smile appears on Nathan's face, but Nathan doesn't respond to him otherwise. It strikes Reid, then, that Nathan looks as if he hasn't aged a single day since he last saw him. Nathan is still entirely Nathan, from the unruly curls to the tips of his shoes, from the elegant lines of his build to the trembling countenance.
Reid finds himself wanting to reach out and touch him just to prove that he's really there, but he almost immediately squashes that urge.
"Dr. Reid," Nathan begins, eyes wandering away (he's nervous, Reid can tell, but who wouldn't be?), "I was wondering, that is, if it isn't too much trouble, if I could stay at your place for the night?"
Reid's heart begins pounding again. The implications in that statement are varied, and some have him instantaneously worried. There are some things here, though unpleasant, that he needs to discuss. He needs to.
"What about the hospital?"
"I left as soon as I turned 18," Nathan says, and he begins to shuffle his feet.
Reid's big-picture question had really been 'has your stay at the ward helped you sort things out at all?', but he just can't bring himself to say it. After all, some part of him already knows the answer.
Nathan's condition isn't one that can easily be fixed. Even the best doctors in the world can't cure psychopathy.
"What about staying at home?"
The teenager is silent for a few moments.
"My mom is out working tonight," he says finally, "but I just, I can't- "
He steps forward into Reid's personal space, suddenly, and grips the edge of Reid's sleeve. The agent's brain abruptly runs into overdrive. He could turn his wrist and grasp Nathan's hand right here and now-
Their gazes lock.
"Please don't leave me alone," Nathan begs, and those haunted-looking eyes and that trembling lower lip make it impossible for Reid to say no.
End Part II.
That's it, for now! Please stay tuned for the next segment. :) Also, feel free to shoot me any questions/comments/critique!
