Work
I don't believe in fate or destiny. I believe in various degrees of hatred, paranoia, and abandonment. However much of that gets heaped upon you doesn't matter – its only a mater of how much you can take and what it does to you: - Henry Rollins.
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine. Floyd Flanders Franks is.
Reid sat looking through the paperwork for a while rubbing his thigh with his hand. The frown lines getting deeper in his brow. Hotch watched him carefully, he knew there was still things going on in the agents head that no one had managed to clear out for him yet. He knew there were deep ever lasting issues he would never recover from and this was one of the reasons – when his report went over to Strauss – that he requested Reid was kept in the office. The team, well Emily and Rossi both considered him a liability.
Hotch watched Reid's eyes closely and could see something going on behind them. He saw Reid pull a small plastic pot from his jacket pocket and pour a few small white pills into his hand. He was going to offer Spencer some water, but he just put them in his mouth dry and crunched down on them not even noticing the foul bitter taste. For now Aaron didn't say anything, but that would have to be something he talked to Reid about at some point.
"Meperidine – a painkiller prescribed not off the street." Reid pushed the container over for Hotch to see. "Nothing illegal about it. It's for my leg. You know the one stopping me from doing my job."
"I didn't say…."
"You didn't have to. I know what you were thinking. I was just taking away the bother of you having to remember to ask." He picked up his coffee mug and with shaking hands took another sip. He pulled a pen out of the same pocket the pills had come from and looked at the box he had to sign his name in.
His eyes started watering and he could feel he was coming out in a sweat. Aaron was looking at the pill container with a puzzled look on his face which gave Reid the chance to wipe the area just above his top lip on the back of his hand and then rub at his eyes with the heel of hand. He felt ill. He felt sweaty and sick and his leg hurt so much it made his eyes water, but he would be damned if he was going to give in to this. That would be admitting defeat. That would show the others out there in the bull pen that he was not a useful team member. He concentrated for a while on the colours shooting across his vision and wished now he hadn't chewed the pills. It was a trick Floyd had shown him, but here at work he needed a clear head not this fuzzy strange one.
When his vision cleared he looked across at Hotch who was staring back.
"What was that all about?" Hotch slid the pill container back over to Reid.
Spencer picked them up and put them back securely in his pocket. "What? He looked out of the window towards the bull pen. I didn't see anything."
Hotch was worried. He now regretted fighting to get Reid back at work. He wasn't ready. He might be able to trick his way through psych evaluation after evaluation but he couldn't trick his way past Hotch.
"Sign the papers and I will take you home. Only paperwork here today, you don't need to be here for that."
He tried to steady his hands so he could sign his name. "And if a case comes in? You will leave and I will be sitting at home being a good housewife to Floyd."
"Your lifestyle was your choice Spencer. No body forced you into it."
He scribbled his name down in the places he needed and pushed the paper back over to Hotch. He wanted to find a smart reply but kept his mouth shut and pushing on the desk stood up. "A space of my own then?"
"I will see if I can sort something out for you. I can't promise anything."
"No of course you can't."
Aaron wasn't happy with this snappy moody Reid, but he was sure once he settled he would get back his old confidence and not feel the need to be on the defence all the time.
He checked he had his pen and pills and picked up his messenger bag – throwing it over his shoulder. Spencer looked over at the door – and closed his eyes in thought. "I'm going home then. Call me when I am needed."
Aaron watched Reid walk back to the door. The limp far more pronounced now than when he first arrived. "I will give you a lift." And Hotch was on his feet. He watched in the reflection on the door Reid wipe his hand over his mouth again.
"I can walk. I don't need your help." He flicked the lock on the door and pulled it open. The thought of walking all the way back to the elevator with his leg screaming at him made him feel sick and dizzy, but he was going to do this. He took a couple of steps forward and realised this was not possible. He was stupid, he should have used the crutch but he didn't want to look injured and now he was in the position of not even being able to walk the few treads down the stairs.
When the arm wrapped around his shoulder he jumped slightly. "Let me help you kid." Morgan.
"I don't need any help." Wiping at the tears of pain.
"That's good, but I am going to help you anyway. Last thing we need now is you passing out and cracking that genius head of yours open. It's too valuable."
Reid looked at Derek and tried to smile. "Thank you."
Aaron watched them leave together. It hurt that Reid would accept Morgan's help and not his.
…………………..
Derek dropped him off and helped him over to the elevator. "I would ask you up – but well you know."
"Yeah I know. You need to use a cane or something while you are healing. You will damage yourself further pushing like this."
"Yeah I know. I thought I could manage." A big sigh. "Well, I will let you know when I need a lift in."
Morgan nodded. "Yes you do that."
Reid pressed the elevator button and listened to the comforting rattle it made on its way down. He frowned as something flitted through his thoughts and then slid it to the side. He stepped in and pulled the doors shut. "Thank you Derek." And car slowly took him back up to where he lived.
There was a strong smell of cooking when Spencer arrived back. Cooking and something else.
Floyd was standing in the middle of the lounge floor with a mop and bucket. He looked up at Reid and scratched his nose. "You're back early."
"I don't feel good. What's that smell?" Screwing his nose up.
"Dinner. I made a chilli." Spencer just stood in the door way giving the room a quick profile. Nothing seemed out of place except Floyd and a mop and bucket and that smell.
"The other smell. The one you are trying to disguise by making the chilli." Reid still didn't move. "Did the therapist come?"
"Yes." Standing watching Reid. "What's wrong?" dropping the mop and walking slowly towards Spencer.
Reid's hand flicked towards where he used to wear his gun. A movement not missed of Flanders. "What's going on? Is that bleach I can smell?"
"I was going to ask you what the hell is going on. You look spooked. It's only me."
"What did she say?" Taking a step back towards the elevator.
"Who?" Taking a step forwards.
"The therapist."
"She told me to clean. So I did."
"We don't have anything to make chilli with. Where did you get the meat?" Another step back and his knee made an alarming 'Crack'
"It was delivered." Another step forwards and putting a hand out for Spencer to grab hold of. "Here hold on."
"Don't touch me!" His back was to the rear of the elevator. Panic making his heart pound and he could feel his stomach contents rising rapidly. Floyd stepped in close and wrapped his arms tightly around Reid.
"It's OK. Nothing has happened. I am just cleaning. She said it would help get rid of the pressure. She was right."
Reid was making strange whimpering sounds and Flanders could feel the breaths coming in irregular sobs.
"I have a receipt for the meat. I kept it to show you." He lifted Reid up off his feet and carried him to the bed room. "You need to calm down."
"F f floyd."
"Shush. I took my pills, I talked to that Cindy woman. I did cleaning and I cooked dinner." He touched Reid gently on the nose. "You have nothing to worry about." He sat on the bed next to Spencer for a minute looking at the pale face and the shaking hands. "Let me get you a coffee. Just stay there and rest your knee."
A small nod from Reid and Floyd stood up again. He watched the arms wrap around his chest and his eyes stare at the ceiling. With a sigh he left the bedroom and walked to the kitchen.
He poured the coffee and added a pile of sugar and then pulled a small twist of cellophane from his pocket and took out a pinch dropping it in the coffee. He put the twist back and pulled out a smoke and lit up. He could feel his eyes glazing in pleasure and he grinned at the mop and stirred the coffee.
"Here you are." Putting the coffee on the nightstand. "Do you need something for your knee babes?"
A shake of the head.
"Drink up. The sugar will make you feel better." Floyd propped Spencer up with pillows and handed him the drink. He moved to the bottom of the bed and pulled off Reid's shoes and socks (one grey and one black) and picked up a bottle of scented oils. He massaged Reid's feet until he saw his eyes drifting shut and the mug at risk of falling. He took the mug. Mostly gone. Good. He flicked the end of Reid's nose with his fingernail. Nothing. Fabulous. He took the mug to the kitchen and after a quick rinse stuck it in the dishwasher.
He then walked to the wall phone and punched in a number.
"It's Floyd." A pause. "No everything isn't fucking fine! What did you do to him? He came home like a scared rabbit. I won't have you doing this to him." Another pause. "Well I don't think he is ready to be back at work. His mind is still screwed." Listening. "Am I the only one thinking straight for a change?" gripping the phone with white knuckles. "I don't give a damn what he eval said – he cheats – he's not sodding well ready. You hear me?" Pacing for the distance the phone wire would permit. "I am the one caring for him – not you – however you would have liked it to be" Picking a red mark off the wall. "No I don't want you coming around. Stay away. Leave us alone." He slammed the phone down and looked at the mark on the wall
"Shit!"
He went and got the rag out of the bucket and started to scrub at the wall.
…………………..