Spencer's Youngest Brother
Warning: Cursing, possible self-mutilation, gory scenes, and implied child abuse. Still rated M.
Summary: Refer to last chapter.
Chapter 2: Grim Discoveries (w/ two bonus surprises!)
Carter's POV
Once the officer drops me off at home, I unlock the front door and head inside making sure to lock the doors and windows. I'm not afraid of the dark or anything, but I just don't like being by myself often. With my memory problem and frequent black outs, I can't trust myself with being alone. That is what scares me the worse; I'm going to go to college soon, but if I don't get this under control, how can I even think about living on campus? It would make sense if I was the killer the whole time…but, I'm not in the least bit violent. I need another coke.
Getting my coke and pulling out my chemistry stuff I open my book and look over chapters five and six. I even go as far as to study the notes thoroughly until I can remember every single detail about atoms and nuclear fusion and fission and all that mess. Then, just to be sure of myself, I read over both chapters fully and, once done, I down my coke and mentally pat myself on my back. 'Well done, Chase; you'll pass after all, sleep or no sleep.' I head back into the kitchen to grab a snack, another coke, and my sleeping pills. Sadly, I also have insomnia. The shrink of mine hasn't been able to figure why this is.
I head upstairs into my room and pull out my laptop. Then, before I do anything else, I head to google to look up 'insomnia and black outs' just to see if I can find any more info on the subject. Unknowing to my parents, who are complete asses, I have a project due in health within the next week: mental disorders and how to over come them. With all the reading on psychology I've done and am still doing, it's no wonder I can make a good profiler. This also makes me wonder why I'm still caught in this hell-hole I call a home.
"Carter Carson Hugh, get down here now!" Speaking of which, looks like my parents are home. I slam my door shut and turn up my techno music.
"Boy, if you don't get down here, right now, you'll regret!" My dad, who likes to threaten me whenever he gets the chance, warns but I ignore it. Seriously, he has done everything he can to make my life hell; force me to go to shrinks, force me to go to sporting events, tell me to stay up all night and study the bible with him when he knows I have an important test in school the next day…and that's just the start.
As if my life with this family isn't enough, I get beat up at school constantly, thanks to the rumors everyone's spread around, and I can't defend myself because I'll be expelled again for fighting on school grounds…I don't think there's anything more that can scare me.
"Don't worry dad, mom, I'll get Carter down here." That's my older sister who sucks up to mom and dad and beats me at everything; from academics to sports. No matter what I do, I'm always walking in the shadows of her; never being able to catch up with her. Sometimes I wonder why I haven't killed myself yet. I seriously need to get out of here.
I hear footsteps come up the stairs and I start packing my school book bag full of clothes and stuff money in every crevice of it I can before finally opening the window in my room, climbing down the balcony pole, and landing in the mud. I guess it was a good thing I have my tennis shoes on. Looks like I'm going to be a runaway for now on; not a bad life, I guess.
Reid's POV
We pull up to Carter's house around the same time he starts locking all the doors and windows. It's hard to see from where we are, but I think he's really studying. Not much time goes by before he disappears upstairs and we see another car pull up. The people who get out consist of two women with blonde hair and a muscular man with sandy blonde hair.
"Reid," Morgan says pointing to the upstairs window. "Look at the kid, he doesn't look happy." I look up to where Morgan is pointing and I see him turn something up. I guess it was his stereo because I hear, and feel, the techno music blasting from the house.
"That explains the attitude, huh?" I just nod my head shortly and ask to borrow the binoculars. Morgan hands them over and I see him shout something before throwing all sorts of items around his room into a tattered book bag. I really wanted to correct Morgan that peoples' attitudes have nothing to do with the sort of music they listen to, but the fear my kid brother is about to run off prevents that.
"Morgan, I think he's planning on leaving…" We're silent as we watch Carter open a window and disappear. "Morgan…."
"Yeah, Reid, I know; let's get ready to move." Before long, I see my kid brother sneak around the house with dirt all over him and cross the street. "Let's go," is all I say and we head off to catch up Carter. 'God…please don't do anything dangerous, Carter, please….'
Carter's POV
I sneak around the house and get this strange feeling I'm being followed. However, I shake it off and keep moving up the sidewalk trying to get as far away from the house as possible. I can't go back there now…my foster father will be pissed and ready to kill; literally. I have a suspicion that it's donut dude's minions following me so I pick up my pace to a full on run. After all, donut dude and his minions are all not athletic.
I hear car doors slam shut, someone shouting my name, and footfalls picking up pace. Good thing I run cross country; the only thing sports-wise I'm good at and the one thing my father calls a "princess' sport". I may have said my dad forces me to sporting events, like football games, but it doesn't mean I don't love running; great way to blow off steam and my shrink told me that it would do me some good to release my anger in something more healthy than fighting. But, of course, where's the fun in that?
I fall off the sidewalk and head up into the woods following an old, dirt path picking up my speed when I hear the shouts getting closer. I recognize the voice, but I can't pin whose shouting. They said on the news that this killer picks up runaway teens, particularly athletic boys, tortures them and then kills them. But, wasn't he by himself? I don't recall them talking about him having a partner. Also, how would the killer know my name if he's never met me? I know it's definitely not donut dude's minions because they're—there are now two voices shouting my name, one familiar another not so much—keeping pace with me; not falling way behind like his minions would.
I can smell the sweat rolling off my body and hear the footfalls get ten feet away from me. It's then I realize where this path leads; a kids' park and elementary school. I can lose them in the kids' park by going in behind the elm school and hiding in that small crevice the kids' call 'hide-and-peak'. My day's gotten ten times better than it was. However, before I can make it to the school, I have to get through all of the debris in my way and duck under drooping branches that are wet with water.
I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere or fell off the path because I reach this empty meadow with a rushing river on one side and a steep cliff on the other. Damn it! Is all I can manage at this point because the two people following me finally catch up and draw out their guns; aimed right at me and right at my heart. This causes a single sweat drop trail down from my forehead, touch the very corner of my left eye, and fall down my cheek into the collar of my sweatshirt. They must think I have a weapon on my person or something because they approach me cautiously. Then, as the crescent moon comes back into view, I see the faces of my pursuers; Reid and some black dude. Despite the urge to run from them, I stay where I am and start thinking up of a good excuse for running. Until then, I'll have to stall them.
Reid's POV
We finally catch up to my kid brother, watch as he looks to either side of him, and notice how he focuses on the cliff a second longer. Is he suicidal? That's the first thing that comes to mind as Morgan and I draw closer to him; slowly, in case he has a weapon on him, like a gun. Does he have a weapon poised and ready to use? I ask myself as I see him look at us with a blank expression and we still edge closer. Then, once we get within twelve feet of him, I see him make a final decision to stay and he looks to be thinking of something. Seeing as to how he isn't going to run anymore, Morgan and I lower our guns to try to make him feel less frightened. However, I think it's a bit too late now.
"Carter-"
"Chase; my name's Chase!" He shouts angrily at Morgan and me. He didn't seem to be bothered by being called Carter earlier, so why now?
"Okay, Chase, calm down. I'm Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan and do you mind me asking why you were running away from home?" Morgan asks and he remains silent. I take a guess at why he did.
"Needed some fresh air?" He still remains quiet and I notice something silver in his left hand. I point it out to Morgan and he nods his head. Morgan puts his gun away slowly and then brings his hands up, at the same pace, in a surrendering gesture; showing that he doesn't have a weapon.
"We just want to talk, Chase; that's all," he tries but my kid brother shouts again.
"Liars! Get the hell away from me!" We back up a few feet, but Carter lifts the object in his hand; a hunting knife. Isn't that what got him into trouble with the police to begin with?
"Okay. Chase, my partner's going to put away the guns. If you lay the knife down, we'll all walk away from this unharmed." Morgan tries again with no anvil. I slowly put my gun in its holster and hold my hands up in a surrendering gesture as well; never breaking eye contact with Carter or the knife. I watch as Cater lifts the knife over his head in a striking position.
"Fuck off!" Morgan and I share a glance of worry and back away a little further before turning our attention back on Cater. This time I speak up.
"Chase, put down the knife, please," and I see him waver for a minute but then tighten the grip on the handle.
"Say I drop the knife; then what?" I glance at Morgan and he nods as we slowly move our hands near our guns' holsters.
"We take you back to the house-," Morgan attempts but is quickly intervened by Carter again.
"No. I'm not going back there." That's a definite statement allowing no argument. With this new information, I take a swing at negotiating, but I'm sure Morgan's much better at it then I am since I seem to make him even more agitated then calm.
"We'll take you to the PD-"
"Fuck that."
"Where do you want us to take you?" Morgan tries in an even tone with a calm expression.
"………" He doesn't say anything for a while but finally opts to put the knife away. As we move in, he simply says, "I don't care…just not back home; please." At this very quiet request, we look at each other in confusion. What the hell is going on in that house? More importantly, what the hell is Carter playing at?
Carter's POV
I take a few deep breaths and concentrate on what Morgan is saying. There are several buzzing sounds going off in my head making it all the more harder to focus. Did I remember to take my medicine tonight? If not, then I'm about to have one hell of a migraine. I tell them both to back off so I can think and they do. I pull out my hunting knife from the top of my book bag and hold it at an angle from my left leg.
"We just want to talk, Chase, that's all." I get suspicious and tighten my grip on the knife.
"Please put the knife down, Chase." I don't have the knife up; I know I don't. It's beside my leg; they're trying to trick me.
"Fuck off! Both of you," I add on to make sure they don't get any closer to me or make an attempt to. My mind goes blank for a while until something tells me to lower the knife which I do so.
"We take you back to the house-"
"No! Don't even think about it!" The heck is going on right now? I didn't ask a question, did I? I must have because I answered the half-statement.
"We'll take you to the PD-"
"Screw you!" I reply trying to fight control over my emotions at the moment. Should I cry, should I scream, should I just yell and run off and pretend none of this ever happened? Should I just off myself now and save me the misery of all this righteous mess I've gotten myself into?
"Where do you want us to take you?" I finally gain control over my body again and manage a small smile of relief at being able to stop the migraine and put the knife away. They get closer to me, but I don't care about that. I'm just tired and want to go to bed. Its then, when I feel a strong and comforting hand on my shoulder, do I remember the question one of them asked me.
"I don't care," I say wondering if they've already forgotten about the question. "Just don't take me home." My dad won't be happy at all. I add on silently as I let them walk me from the field, to the woods, to the side walk, to the car, and finally, into the car. As the car starts moving, I doze off not being able to stay awake any longer.
Reid's POV
I opt to sit in the passenger seat of the car and turn to look behind me to see Carter sleeping peacefully.
"Reid, we can't take the kid home and he doesn't want to go to the PD; use that brain of yours and figure something out." I'm already working on it trying to ignore the nagging feeling that something bad is going on inside that house. Finally, with one last glance to make sure my kid brother is sleeping, I come to a solid option; our only option.
"We take him to the police department, tell Hotch what happened, and figure out what to do next." I pull my eyes from Carter and stare straight ahead of me.
"Okay. Do you think he'll be alright? I mean, shouldn't we at least make sure he doesn't have anymore weapons on him?" As I'm thinking this over, I notice Morgan look in the rearview mirror and glance at Cater.
"I don't know. But, Morgan, we need to get him away from that place before he does something extremely reckless. Stoplight," I add on dryly and Morgan turns his attention back to the road, curses a word that would make even the toughest sailor blush, and yet still manages to come to a smooth stop despite the abrupt statement. He leans back in the seat and readjusts his hand positions.
"What do you think is going on in there?"
"I…I think he's being abused." Morgan looks at me sharply with a worried glance, looks back at Carter who's still sleeping, and turns his attention back to the road as the stoplight turns green.
"In which way; physical, mental, emotional?" I tear my gaze from Carter and look back at Morgan. It's then that I see his lips pressed into a thin line and his grip on the steering wheel tighten to the point of his knuckles turning white; definite anger.
"Dunno. You're gonna want to take the next exit off this road." He does so and I spare another look at my brother; his clothes have hardly any dirt on them and his hair's sopping wet and plastered against his face.
"So, changing the subject, do you think Hotch has been acting strange?"
"We're not supposed to profile the team, Morgan."
"I know; I'm not, I'm just wondering if you've noticed it or not."
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?"
"Kid, you can't take a joke, can ya?" He smiles at this and I just roll my eyes. Wait, why did he suddenly change the subject? Does it have something to do with the fact that Carter might be being abused?
"Huh?"
"I mean, every time someone makes a joke--mostly me--you add in the real facts."
"That's not true." He looks at me with a 'yeah, right' look. "Okay, I don't do that all the time." He rolls his eyes and smiles. Suddenly, a thought occurred to me. "And I'm not a kid!" Then again, I'm acting like one, huh? Will he ever stop teasing me? Despite my despair and complaint I find myself smiling in content. I'd rather see Morgan happy, not angry.
Carter's POV
I continue to pretend to be asleep while I listen to the conversation between Morgan and Reid. I get a bit anxious about the fact that they're trying to analyze my behavior. I don't like it when people pry into my personal life. More importantly, why did they bother to ask me where I wanted to go? Why do they even care about the fact that I was running away from home to begin with? I know they don't care that much about me; especially my brother--or do they?
"He's being abused."
"Mental, physical, or emotional?"
"I don't know. Take the next exit."
"You think Hotch's been acting strange?"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"Can't take a joke, can ya?"
"Yes, I can."
Nothing more is said between the two for the rest of the drive until we reach the police department. Why did they bring me here? I knew they didn't care about my opinion. I'm not going in there. I won't.
"'Kay kid, we're here." Regardless of my awareness, I have to pretend I don't know anything.
"Mmm….where?" I fake a yawn and stretch as I straighten in my seat. It just occurred to me; did I remember to put on my seatbelt? But, if I didn't remember to, why didn't they bother me about it?
"The police department," before I can stop myself, spiteful words come out.
"What the hell?"
"It's better than taking you home, right?" Reid asks in a rhetorical way as he turns in the seat, after unbuckling his self, and looks at me with…how do you describe that look?
"Yeah, I guess. Thanks." I say remembering they're not the enemy and they did listen to my request of not taking me home. I'm seriously tired right now and could use a good burst of caffeine; particularly a coke.
"Kid, tell me, why did you run off like that? With a killer out, don't you think that's a bit reckless?" Not understanding whether or not this is or isn't a rhetorical question, I choose to reply with sarcasm.
"Oh no, not at all! I don't care about the killer. Let him or her or it, for that matter, kill me. I'll haunt them for the rest of their sick lives." I reply and see them look at me in a strange way. "What? Can't take a joke?" They both smile unsurely and leave the car and I follow them to the building I've come to hate.
Reid's POV
When we finally reach the department Morgan wakes up Carter and I catch a strange look in his grey-brown eyes; I can't place it, however.
"Why are we here?" Seeing a fight rising from that statement I say something before Morgan can.
"It's better than taking you home, right?" I wish I could take him to the hotel the team's staying at, but it's not possible right now. That strange look comes back in his eyes as he talks again.
"Yeah, I guess; thanks." Even though Carter says this dejectedly, we still hear the sincerity in it. I take it this is a good sign so far. But, what is that strange look? Morgan's voice pulls me from my ravine. I know I've seen that look somewhere, but I just can't place it right now. Why?
"Carter," we wait a second to see if he would yell at us again, and he doesn't, but he still has that strange look in his eyes. This makes us even more confused, but we don't bother with asking more questions than necessary at the moment; he needs a break from questioning. "Why did you run off? With a killer out and everything, it's a bit reckless right?"
"Tsch! Not at all, man! I don't care 'bout all this mess. Let him or her or it--for that matter--kill me for all I care! I'll just haunt them for the rest of their shitty lives!" I notice the odd look vanish and come back again, but I just shrug it off. "What? Can't take a joke?" We smile unsurely not quite understanding his meaning behind those words.
Carter's POV
After that little spectacle we all leave the car and Morgan locks it as my brother and I wait for him. Once he comes around the car, we all head into the main doors of the Huntington PD. This makes me wonder if the lead detective is still here or if he's out eating donuts again.
Instead, I see the whole BAU squad and notice how they scrutinize me. I wouldn't blame them with the way I'm dressed; burgundy plaid pajama bottoms, a black beanie with red, white, and grey outlining, and a plain, blood-red, long-sleeved sweatshirt. My shoes have white skulls on the front with grey, red, and white paint splatters across them and the laces are a pitch black color with tiny skulls imprinted on the plastic ends. Simple and elaborate in one get up; my personal style. I wish I could say the same thing about my hair. I'm thinking about dying it black and putting white streaks through it, once it grazes my shoulders again, of course. I wonder how that will look on me then; golden brown hair cut just under my ears all grown out and dyed. My parents' worse nightmare's yet to come!
It's just now that I notice how that blonde girl looks at me with sympathy--I think--and get irked. I don't need someone's pity or any understanding. I just want to sleep. Oh, and to stay the hell away from that home for a while. Is that too much to ask for? Maybe even just to crash at Quintie's place for a few days with no penalties? I guess so. His real name's Quinton Garcia Lupas, but everyone calls him Quintie since he likes that name better; big surprise there!
"Morgan, Reid, what's Carter doing here?" Hotch asks and I smile and even go as far as to wave 'hi' to the dude.
"It's Chase, sir. I'd prefer Chase."
"You didn't have an issue with Carter before." A much older looking agent than Hotch with grey and black hair and heavy stubble ask.
"True, but minds change, right? Never stable, minds, I mean," I say and smile taking note of how everyone gives me strange looks that I don't have the energy to comprehend. Suddenly, to dampen my pleasant mood, the lead detective comes loping in with a smirk plastered across his face. So, to throw him off guard, I bombard him with a sudden introduction full of hyper energy.
"DONUT DUDE! Yo! How's the case and all? Man, I thought I could take some of your donuts while you were gone, but then I thought, nah, I'll just get yelled at; again. How's life man? Cool, right?" I watch him fume and I chuckle in the back of my throat. I hear someone clear their throat and I look over to see its Hotch. Hm…maybe I should go ahead and be hyper; see how many people I shock and scare.
"Do you know Lt. Marsh, Chase?"
"Yeah, I do Fed man--I mean Hotch. We go way back! Like, I think all the way back to the beginning of all time--or something close!"
"Are you on something?"
"Huh? No. Wait, does life count?" I notice how all of them blink and then I see why the lead detective's smirking at me and not yelling instead; it's my sis, mom, and dad gliding their way over here. Well, my mom and sis are gliding their way over while my dad is thundering. "Uhm….I, uh…have to go somewhere for a, uhm…quick while; yeah." I say bitterly, all hyper energy lost, and dart to the bathroom and lock myself in a stall trying to steady my racing mind. Am I crying? I have to ask myself to believe the wetness I feel on my face; but the wetness says it all. Christ, what the hell is wrong with me!?
Reid's POV
After Morgan locks the car I begin to wonder what's going through Carter's mind at the moment. He still has that unreadable look in his eyes; crazed, maybe? It's then I notice something I thought I wouldn't see in Carter; vulnerability. That must be the strange look; dad had it before he left, mom had it when I told her I was sending her away, Tobias---I shake my head to clear out all the old, and painful, memories.
Once we make it inside the PD and into the main area of it Morgan and I notice that Hotch and the team are already here. Did something happen? I also notice how they work on analyzing Carter's personality. I don't think this will go over well.
A minute of complete silence falls and then Hotch breaks it with a question. "Morgan, Reid, what's Carter doing here?" Before we can explain, however, Carter interrupts.
"It's Chase, sir." Morgan and I see the confusion on Rossi's face.
"You didn't have an issue with Carter before."
"Minds change, right? Minds are never stable, you know?" We all give 'Chase' strange looks with Morgan's border lining on comical and freaked. Then Chase's body language changes from somewhat relaxed to stiff and reserved and that strange look comes back into his eyes, only briefly, however, as it goes away to be replaced by…happiness? Is this real or fake?
"DONUT DUDE! Sup? How's the case going? I thought I could take some donuts from your office or something, but then I thought, no, I'll get yelled at; again. How's life man? It's alright, right?" I see Hotch's face light up in slight amusement at the detective's murderous face; and here I thought Carter would break out into a line of profanities. Does this mean he's on something? If so, is it a script or is it recreational?
"Chase, you know the lead detective, Lt. Marsh?" Hotch asks my kid brother and he smiles even more and a childish demeanor comes around him.
"Yeah, I do Fed man- I mean, Hotch! We go way back--the dawn of time back!" I notice how Hotch starts to reevaluate Carter.
"Are you on something?" His face becomes serious and I notice the detective smirking in Carter's direction.
"No, unless life counts, of course," all of us, including Lt. Marsh, blink in confusion at this. Then, when I next look back at Carter his body language screams utter terror and I try to find the source of it.
"I, uhm, gotta go somewhere for a bit," I hear him mumble dejectedly and Morgan and I look at him run frantically to the bathroom. I look for the source of his fear with renewed vigor only finding the two blonde women and muscular man with sandy blonde hair and a tattoo of a rose on his right arm walking this way. That's his foster family? Is that what he's afraid of? I think to myself and decide to head to the bathroom to retrieve my kid brother and possibly find some answers to a few questions I have.
Dang! Wasn't expecting that! So, whatcha think of the second chap? Is it still worth continuing? I wasn't even expecting to have anything hyper in this, so that was a surprise on my part. I don't know about you guys. I didn't scare ya off did I?
Just a quick note, Carter's going to be referring to himself as Chase for a while. I think everyone else will just call him Carter. It depends on what those little imps' voices in my mind say. Oh, and your opinion, of course! ^^ Please do leave reviews!
Carter: You made me look like a fool!
ferret nin: Yea, and? :P
Carter: …..
ferret nin: That's what I thought! Ha!
Reid: *looks at blank script* So….I'm going to be doing, what, exactly?
ferret nin: ^^; uh….protecting your kid bro!
J.J.: That's so sweet!
Carter: uhm….I'm not a kid.
ferret nin: The imps tell me differently! So, ha! Deal with it!
Everyone minus ferret nin: ……o_o;
ferret nin: Hey! Don't diss the little imps! _#
Note: I'm hyped on sugar if you're wondering why I sound like this!!!!!!!!!! I blame imps!!!
Honestly, I'm not scaring anyone, right? ^w^
With care,
ferret nin