Title:

Losing My Religion by Lexikal (Chapter Three)
Rating: M for graphic violence against a child and language (in the first chapter).
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Summary: After two years away from his father and his father's violent rages, Spencer Reid, now ten, is returned home. Spencer has changed... but has William Reid?

Author's Note: This story (chapter one) was originally published on my live journal account as a single story under the title "Losing Myself". However, after writing "That's me in the corner", I decided to write a sequel, and realized that this story would make an excellent first chapter for the sequel.

Now we're onto Chapter Three... Reid is going into foster care, but his new foster father is Jason Gideon.

Oh, and please, if you suspect a child is being abused or neglected, phone 1-800-4-A-CHILD (if you live in America), your local police, local child protective agency or local child protective services' hot-line.

"Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity." – Hippocrates

A few more days turned into about 4, and after Spencer Reid had been in the hospital over a week he was nearly bouncing off the walls with anticipation. Not only would he be getting out of the hospital today- Gideon had shown him the plane tickets and their flight was scheduled to depart at 5:30 pm from Vegas- but he'd also be able to see Virginia! With his real eyes, not just photographs of it in books. And also, being Gideon's foster son... that would probably be really...cool. Reid closed his eyes and grinned. He knew Gideon must've taken a lot of time off to become his legal guardian, because at the very least, he- Spencer- would require a lot of attention at first. It was a fact Spencer Reid didn't like to think about, the fact that he was so needy right now, but he couldn't walk and even though neither of his arms had been broken, he was still really tired most of the time.

When he'd asked Gideon about work, about how his absence would impact the cases, Gideon had smiled warmly at the boy.

"Reid, I'm not unit chief. A man named David Rossi is. Plus, I needed a break anyway."

"You work under the man who founded the BAU?"

Gideon had nodded. "Yeah, but remember, I work in ViCAP." And then Gideon had, not for the first time, told Reid about the 4 subdivisions of the BAU; Unit 1 dealt with Counter-terrorism and threat assessment, unit 2 with crimes against adults, unit 3 with crimes against children and unit 4 was ViCAP; the Violent Criminal Apprehension Program.

Reid had been told about the different sub-types before, but not what each group actually dealt with, not specifically.

"I understand counter-terrorism and threat assessment; BAU unit 1," the young boy said earnestly. "Car bombings, arson, terrorist threats...right?"

Gideon nodded.

"And ViCAP...well, you guys deal with homicides and missing persons and sexual assaults. Serial killers, sometimes. But the other two? Why have two additional units?"

"ViCAP crimes usually can't be profiled by the other units, or are longer standing," Gideon said. "Each case has its own qualifying information. Most ViCAP crimes also cross state-lines."

'What's unit 3...crimes against children?" Reid had asked then and looked up at his mentor, almost frightened.

"Just what it sounds like... that unit works crimes committed against children..."

"Like?"

"Well, some examples are kidnappings, sexual assaults, mysterious disappearances and murder. Why Reid?"

Reid sucked on his bruised-purple lip. They both knew why he'd asked.

"No unit of the BAU deals with individual child abuse cases." Gideon said softly.

Reid chewed on his lower lip. He wasn't sure why that possibility had frightened him so much, but it had.

'Did you ever work for unit 3?" Reid asked, staring at his lap.

"Actually, I did Reid."

Reid glanced up. "You worked with...you found people who killed and raped kids? Tortured them?"

Gideon nodded again, his eyes darkening as memories came back. "Yes."

"Is that why you volunteer at the village...?" Reid asked after a long moment.

"That's part of it. I needed to know that some kids out there who had been hurt really bad- like you- would be okay. Were okay."

"Oh."

"Look, Reid, I have to go out for a bit... back to the motel, give them my key, get my stuff and make a few stops and then I'll be back and we'll get ready, okay?"

Reid brightened immediately. "Yeah! Okay!"

Gideon rested a hand on Spencer Reid's shoulder and squeezed lightly. "See you in a few hours, pal."

And then Gideon left to get his stuff from the motel and make his "few stops". Reid grinned and wheeled his chair out into the hallway, mind already racing with thoughts about the plane trip, about Quantico. He'd never been on a plane before, and although he understood the physics behind aerodynamics, actually riding in a plane would probably be an altogether different experience. As for Virginia...

Maybe Gideon would take him to the field office! Maybe he'd get to see the real FBI building, the famous one in Quantico! Maybe he'd even get to meet David Rossi, the BAU's founder, the man who had debunked the theory of satanic serial killers. Maybe Rossi would sign his cast! Maybe Gideon would give him fake assignments, information about cases or killings and let Reid try to figure out the killer's identity... or what Gideon called the "UnSub"...from specific clues about historical crimes.

Reid grinned and rolled his wheelchair past the nurses' station, into the playroom. Both Brad and Marty were there, along with some other kids who were either new or had been absent the few times Reid had previously visited.

"I heard you're leaving today," Brad said, looking up from a small table where he was slowly piecing together a 100-piece Ninja Turtles puzzle.

"Yeah," Reid said, realizing by the look on Brad's face that maybe he had been a little bit too enthusiastic with his response.

"Must be nice to be injured instead of actually sick," Brad scoffed scornfully, and turned back to his puzzle.

Reid stared at the boy and opened his mouth. Closed it. Finally sighed heavily. He knew Brad wasn't trying to be mean, that Brad was sick and tired of having cancer. And it was true... being injured was ultimately a lot better than having a chronic illness like cancer.

But his desire to tell Brad and Marty about Quantico and the FBI agent he would be living with was gone, now.

Jason Gideon parked the motel car in front of William Reid's house and sat there for a moment, collecting himself. Reid's mother didn't work and was from all account house-bound and the family's only vehicle was parked in the driveway. Gideon knew. Gideon knew the make and model and colour, and the license plate number.

The house was a bungalow, a single storey clone of most of the houses on this street, except that Reid's father had built a basement shortly after the family had moved in. The basement was used as the laundry room, and from what Gideon knew about Reid, also the room where the young boy had been physically beaten the most often and most severely.

Jason Gideon got out of the car then, jogged up the driveway and rang the door bell. He'd spoken to William Reid already- he'd had to- and William had promised to have some of Spencer's things ready.

The door opened, and William Reid looked out at Gideon.

Gideon made himself remain calm, but every fibre in his body wanted to strangle the man in front of him.

"Agent Gideon?" William Reid slurred. Drunk again.

Gideon nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line. "That's right. How did you guess?"

"You're here for some of Spencer's things. His mother packed him a bag with some clothes and a toothbrush... some of the kid's favourite books. Did you know he likes to read poetry every night before going to bed?" William Reid laughed, as if he found that last fact funny. "What sort of ten year old boy reads poetry?"

Gideon's stomach clenched. So did his fists. "What sort of man beats a helpless, defenceless child almost to death with an iron?" Gideon said coldly. William Reid blinked blearily.

"They can't prove I did that..." Spencer's father began. Gideon cut him off.

"I suppose he beat himself then? And burned himself with cigarettes? And raped himself?" Gideon had been told about Reid's behaviour in the ICU, and while he didn't think Reid had been sexually abused by his father, he'd set the bait.

"What?" William Reid sputtered. Until Gideon had said the word "rape", Reid's so-called-father had looked almost bored. "He said I did what to him?"

"You heard me." Gideon ground out.

"I never touched my son! Not like...not like that! That's perverted! I may have banged him up a few times, now and then..."

"Burned him?" Gideon prodded icily.

"Little thief was taking some of my smokes, selling them to some kids down the street... you don't steal from your own father, for crying out loud..."

"So you've beat and burned him? Just so we're both clear. But never raped him?"

"Never ...yeah, that other stuff, okay! Yes! Sometimes! But never... never molested him."

Gideon pulled the cassette recorder out of his pocket and showed William Reid.

"You know, considering how intelligent your son is... I would've expected more from you."

William Reid stared down at the cassette recorder. Narrowed his eyes.

"And considering, Agent Gideon, that I am an attorney you should know that I know my rights and that that little stunt you just pulled is called entrapment."

"Oh, I didn't record this little chat to have charges pressed against you for this crime... Spencer's last attack," Gideon said, moving his mental queen to take William Reid's King. It would be "checkmate" in two sentences.

"No? Why then?" William Reid asked cagily.

"I plan on keeping this for the future. Hold onto it after Spencer is eventually released from my care and comes back home..."

"What's your point?" William Reid snapped.

"My point, you unconscionable excuse for a parent, is that when Spencer comes back, if you ever lay a hand on a single hair of his again, I will use this tape as evidence. I might not be able to use this to have you locked up for what you did this time, but you ever hurt your son again, I think this tape will go a long way to providing some insight into which parent in this house is the actual abuser, don't you?"

William Reid stared back at Jason Gideon. His mouth opened and shut a few times. He was speechless.

Checkmate.

"Hey Reid," Gideon had stopped to eat and collect himself in a park for half an hour before returning back to the hospital.

Spencer Reid glanced over and grinned. "Are we going yet? Are we leaving now?"

Gideon nodded. He'd already gotten Spencer his own wheelchair, and it was waiting outside in the taxi. He'd given the man 10 dollars to wait the 15 minutes or so it would take to get Spencer dressed and wheeled downstairs.

"Yes, actually, the taxi is already here. We have to get you dressed, and then out of here." Gideon smiled brightly. "You don't want the taxi leaving with your new wheelchair, do you?"

"What do you mean; my new wheelchair?" Reid asked.

"You can't exactly take one of the hospital's wheelchairs all the way to Virginia, Reid..." Gideon said, chuckling.

"The taxi is here... now?"

Gideon nodded. He knew Reid wanted to ask a million questions, but he also realized Reid knew that they had to hurry up.

"Dressed? You bought me clothes?"

"Actually, your Mom packed you some things..."

"You saw my Mom?"

Gideon sighed. He hadn't planned this very well.

"Reid, we have to hurry and get dressed. We can talk in the taxi and on the plane, okay?" Gideon coaxed as he walked over to Spencer's bed. He put down the suitcase and flipped it open. There was a nightlight, a flashlight, a toothbrush and soap in a plastic bag, underwear, button-up shirts, sweaters and pressed pants. Socks. Lying on top was a book of Robert Frost poetry.

Reid was going to have troubled getting into the pants, especially with his cast.

"Reid, hold on. Why don't you put on one of your shirts, okay, buddy? I am going to go ask if they have some baggy sweat pants or something you can wear..."

"Why?" Reid asked.

"Because I really doubt you'll be able to fit your cast into any of those pants... hold on. Put on a shirt!"

Gideon glanced down at his watch as he approached the nurse's desk. Three minutes had already gone by.

"Hi, running a bit late... the taxi is already waiting, and Spencer's mother only packed pants that..."

"You need something that he can wear over that cast?" The nurse guessed. Gideon smiled and nodded.

"We have some hospital pajama pants with draw-strings. They'll be really baggy on Spencer, but the leg should slide right over his cast."

"That would be great," Gideon said. The nurse nodded and rushed away, quickly returning. The pants were mint-green cotton, but at least Spencer wouldn't be sitting on the plane in his underwear. Gideon thanked her and ran back to Spencer's room.

Spencer was buttoning up one of his shirts carefully, tongue sticking out as he concentrated on the task. It was a quirk Gideon had noticed before. Despite the boy's intelligence and precocity, when it came to certain tasks that involved coordination, he could sometimes be very clumsy.

"Good job, pal. You keep working on that shirt, and I'll work on the pants, okay?"

Reid nodded, still focused on buttoning his shirt. Gideon unfolded the pants and began to snake Reid's legs through the waist of the pants and down each pant leg, gently lifting the boy up to secure the pants around his stomach. He pulled lightly on the drawstring and tied it.

"That too tight?"

Spencer Reid shook his head.

"Okay, buddy, we gotta go now," Gideon said. Reid nodded. Gideon closed Reid's suitcase, flipped the latches closed and handed the boy the case. Then he wheeled him out of the room, down the hallway, to the elevator.

The taxi was still idling when they got outside, the driver standing outside and looking at his watch.

"Sorry for the wait!" Gideon called, and gently reached down and scooped the ten-year-old out of the hospital's wheelchair. He carried the boy over to the taxi, settled him in the back with his suitcase, and got in the passenger seat.

"Airport, right?" the driver asked, throwing a startled and slightly horrified look at the rear-view mirror. At the monstrously battered chid in the backseat. Jason Gideon could only imagine what the man was thinking.

"Yeah," Gideon said, sighing.

"Gideon?" Spencer said from the back seat.

"Yeah, pal?"

"I'm going to put on one of my sweaters now, too, okay?"

"Okay, buddy."

That's it for chapter 3... Will be away from the computer for a few days, so don't expect any updates for at least three days or so. In the mean time, have fun and remain voracious reid-ers! Ha-ha! (Yeah, I make the stupidest jokes!)