Title: Losing My Religion by Lexikal (Chapter Four)
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 Four... 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.
"Fear is a darkroom where negatives develop." – Usman B. Asif
The taxi pulled up outside the airport and sat idling for a moment. Gideon got out, went around to the trunk and pulled out Spencer Reid's wheelchair. He unfolded it and then went and paid the driver. Reid was peering out the taxi window, looking at the airport as if amazed, eyes bulging slightly. Gideon almost wanted to laugh, seeing the look on his face.
When Reid had gone to the Village, he'd gone by bus. The young prodigy had never been on a plane before.
Gideon opened Reid's door and took his suitcase out. He put the suitcase down beside the curb and then gently scooped Reid up again, careful with the child, nudging the taxi door closed with his hip. The taxi driver drove off.
He carried the boy over to his chair, gently sat him in it, and wheeled him over the ramp, bending to pick up the kid's suitcase as he passed. He handed the suitcase to Reid who gripped it possessively to his chest.
Reid was unusually quiet.
"You nervous?" Gideon said. Reid had seemed excited at the prospect of flying earlier, but now he was eerily quiet. "Reid?"
"Maybe a little bit," Reid admitted.
"Of what?" Gideon asked, and wheeled the boy through the automatic doors and into the airport. The place was bustling with people and noise and Gideon could feel Reid tensing in his chair. "About what, Reid?"
"I've never been on a plane before. I know they're safer than cars, in theory. But if you look at certain statistics, that could be due to the fact that the average person makes far fewer trips on a plane in his or her lifetime than in a car or other land-bound means of transportation. For instance, the number of deaths per billion passengers in terms of kilometres is only .05 on planes compared to 3.1 deaths when it comes to cars, but there are 117 deaths per billion passenger-journeys versus 40 for cars... so..."
"Meaning?" Gideon asked wheeling them to the elevator. He already knew where they were going, where their terminal was. He also already knew what Reid was talking about, but he wanted the boy to sort it out for himself, logically.
"Well, statistically, flying in a plane is safer than riding in a car because the chance of being involved in an accident is less likely. However, if you are involved in a plane crash, the chance of dying is far higher than a car crash, so... it's kind of like in a casino. People can play the penny and nickel slots or invest more money and play for the big bucks. The penny and nickel slots pay out more often, but usually not very much. However, every so often they do pay out quite a bit. But if you're investing a lot on craps or poker, like 10,000 dollars, the chances of winning a lot are next to nothing, but if you do win, you stand to make a lot more money. Cars are like the penny and nickel slots- more wins, or in this case, crashes, and more fatalities because more people are driving and there are more crashes so... yeah. But the planes are the high-stake games. The chance of winning is not as high, but if you do crash... you see?"
Gideon wasn't surprised the kid had used a gambling metaphor to compare car and plane crash statistics. Not when he'd grown up in Vegas.
"So, you're scaring yourself." Gideon said flatly. "There are a lot more car crashes, and therefore more deaths, but when a plane does crash, the chance of surviving is far less likely than a car accident?"
"Something like that. Plus, car crashes tend to be pretty fast, even the fatal ones. Within seconds. But if a plane goes down, because you're about 30,000 feet above the surface of the Earth on average, you have a lot longer to panic, so the suffering is extended. It's not an instant death... you have time to..."
"Reid..." Gideon said sternly. "We won't crash. You'll probably be so amazed by the entire experience that you won't have time to be afraid."
"Maybe," Reid said uncertainly. "But if we do crash, we'll almost certainly die. And most of the stats about the safety of air travel come from the air travel industry, so I am not sure how objective they can really be. But... then I read other statistics... and it all gets pretty confusing, so right now, I don't know what to think..."
"We have over an hour before we have to go through security," Gideon said, stopping the boy before he could work himself into a frenzy.
"Our plane takes off at 5:30 pm?" Reid asked, although Gideon knew the kid hadn't forgotten. Gideon nodded anyway.
"It's 4:00 now. What time do we have to be there to go through security?"
"5:15 at the latest, we'll try to make it for 5:10, just so we're not rushing."
"Okay,"
"So...you hungry? Want to get something to eat? There is a food court around the corner."
"Um..." Reid sounded upset. "Gideon?"
"Yeah?"
"People are staring at me,"
"Just ignore them, buddy." Gideon said softly. But it was true. People were gawking at the black and purple boy with the broken leg and the shaved head. Reid's bandages had been removed but it would still be several months before his hair grew back long enough to fully cover the craniotomy scar, and over a year until Spencer Reid's hair was back to its usual length.
"I-I..." Reid trailed. Gideon stopped the chair, put the brakes on, and came around to Reid. He hunched down in front of the child.
"Reid, just ignore them... they're just curious."
"What if...I know I look like a monster," Spencer Reid said softly, chewing on his lip. It was hard to tell because of the extensive bruising but Jason Gideon was pretty certain the kid was blushing with embarrassment.
"No, you don't look like a monster, Reid," Gideon said sympathetically, trying to keep the pity he felt for the child out of his voice.
"What do I look like then?" Reid exhaled miserably.
"You look like a very strong kid who was physically hurt very badly." It was the truth, but Gideon knew it wouldn't satisfy Reid, because his embarrassment wasn't logical.
"I...I am bald..." Reid squeaked miserably. "And I can't walk, and I know my face barely looks human. I am ugly. And what if I have to pee on the plane? You'll have to carry me."
Gideon reached over and put a hand on Reid's shoulder. Squeezed lightly.
He stood up then, took the brakes off the chair and began to wheel the chair again. Past the food court. To a small clothing store.
"What... there are stores in the airport?"
"Yes, Reid." Gideon said softly.
"What are we doing here?"
It was a GAP kids' store. Just a small little outlet, but it might... Gideon rolled Reid into the tiny little store, put the brakes on again. "Do you have any hooded sweatshirts that might fit a child his size?" Gideon asked when they were inside.
The male sales clerk behind the desk glanced over at Reid, before doing a double take.
"Um...um, yeah. I think a youth medium would be good for him, as he's so slight. I'll... we only have navy blue and red left. Is that okay?"
"That's fine," Gideon answered. "Reid... what colour would you like? Navy blue or red?"
"Gideon?" Reid said uncertainly, still not certain what they were doing in a clothing store in the airport.
"Just pick a colour, Reid. We still have to eat."
"Navy, I guess." The boy said softly. The clerk nodded and went over to the rack, pulled out a navy blue hoody and came over to Reid.
"Is it okay if he tries it on out here? Over his sweater?" Gideon asked. The clerk nodded solemnly- obviously uncomfortable by the sight of the boy and obviously trying not to stare at the horrendous bruising and injuries.
"That's no problem at all," the clerk said softly.
Gideon gently helped Reid into the hoody, pulled his arms through, before gently pulling the hood up and over Reid's bald head.
"How's that feel? Too tight?"
Reid shook his head. If anything, the hoody was a touch baggy.
"Is it itchy or anything? Is it comfortable?"
"Yeah," Reid said softly, burrowing into the hoody. Gideon smiled.
"Okay, we'll take that," he told the clerk. The clerk nodded. Gideon went over to a rack of sunglasses.
"Reid? Pair of glasses?"
A lot of the swelling around Reid's eyes had gone down, but not all. Reid shrugged.
Gideon grabbed a pair of generic looking child-sized sunglasses and placed them on the counter.
"He's going to wear the glasses and hoody out, if that's okay." Gideon told the clerk, who nodded immediately. The man quickly ran up the items, taking Gideon's Master-card without comment. Gideon signed the bill.
"Um, sir?" The clerk said, just as Gideon was about to leave. Jason Gideon looked up. Reid had already been handed his sunglasses and had put them on. With the hoody covering his bald head and the glasses covering his swollen eyes, he looked a lot more secure. He also looked a bit like a pint-sized bank robber.
"Yes?"
The clerk smiled, bent under the counter, and came around to Gideon.
He handed Jason Gideon a 100 dollar gift card.
"Every 100th child customer receives one of these," the clerk said, smiling broadly. Gideon took the card, looked it over. Stared back at the man, corners of his mouth twitching with mild amusement.
"Thanks," Gideon said.
"No problem," the clerk said, looking over at Reid. "You have a good flight now, you hear little man?" The clerk told Reid kindly.
Reid nodded perfunctorily.
When they were out of the store, Reid craned his head around.
"Not every 100th kid to buy something there gets a gift card, do they?" Reid asked sceptically.
"I doubt it," Gideon said honestly, knowing that Reid would be able to tell if he lied.
"And I probably wasn't even the 100th kid... I mean... he just gave us that because... you think he felt sorry for me?"
"I think... I think he wanted to do something nice for you." Gideon said carefully. He knew Reid already felt exposed and weak and vulnerable. The last thing Spencer Reid would accept right now was pity.
"What's the difference?"
Gideon sighed. "Reid, let me ask you something. Hypothetically, if you were given a chance to have a dog as a pet, and given the option of getting a pure breed of your choice for a lot of money from a breeder, or a mongrel from the pound, which would you choose?"
"The mongrel from the pound," Reid said immediately. "Although I am more of a cat person, I think."
"Okay, same question but change the word dog to cat."
"Still the mongrel from the pound," Reid said, "Although the term mongrel is usually reserved for canines, it technically can apply to any animal of indeterminate breed. So... the mongrel cat from the pound."
"Okay, why?"
Reid was silent for a moment.
"Because I don't really care about the breed- that's superficial. It doesn't matter. And the pure-breeds most likely won't be euthanized, but there is a surplus of unwanted animals that would make great pets, and many of them are euthanized."
"So you'd want to reduce some suffering in the world by saving one of those unwanted animals? Even if it was just one?"
"Yeah... I guess so."
"Reid, I think when that man saw you, he felt badly for you. He didn't pity you or feel sorry for you necessarily, but he saw a kid who has obviously been through the ringer, and he wanted to do something nice. Make the world a better place."
"I still... I just want to be treated normally. He wouldn't have done that for a normal looking kid."
"Maybe not," Gideon agreed.
"So I was right... he felt sorry for me," Reid said again, his voice full of self-loathing and shame.
Jason Gideon sighed. Decided to switch topics. He wheeled Reid back the way they had come, into the food court.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Not hungry," Reid said solemnly.
"You sure?" Gideon asked. Spencer Reid nodded.
"Okay... but I'm gonna get a coffee and a muffin."
They were finally on the plane. They'd gone through security at 5:00 and Reid had pulled his hood down and taken his sunglasses off before going through security, without needing to be asked. Gideon had shown the security guard his FBI badge, his passport, Reid's birth certificate and the paperwork listing him as Reid's legal guardian. Then they'd checked Reid's suitcase, and then Gideon's travel bag and waved them through. All in all, it had been much easier than Gideon had expected.
They'd been allowed to board first due to Reid's handicapped state. Gideon pushed him to the plane, then picked up the boy and carried him to his seat. The chair was then folded up and a stewardess took it and stored it.
Reid had opted for a window seat, for which Gideon was glad. It would be much easier to pick the boy up and carry him to the washroom if he needed to use it during the flight, and Gideon himself would be able to use the washroom without staggering over the boy with Reid sitting next to the window.
They'd stopped in a bookstore before boarding and browsed, but Reid had said he didn't want anything.
"What about a Las Vegas sticker to put on your suitcase?" Gideon had asked.
"Why? I live here."
"Yeah, but then we can get you a sticker from Quantico and anywhere else in Virginia we visit, and if you do any other flying in the future you can get even more stickers... sort of like a travel diary of places you've been."
Reid shrugged, so Gideon got the boy a Vegas sticker. And on impulse, before Reid could refuse, a model toy of the plane they would be flying in, complete with a fact sheet. Reid probably knew all the basic facts about the particular plane they would be flying in anyway, but he had the feeling Spencer Reid hadn't received many, if any, toys in his life.
Reid took the plane and stared at it curiously when Gideon handed it to him, once they were on the plane.
"I still don't get why you spent money on this. I have an eidetic memory. I won't forget what this plane looks like."
"Well, I just thought you might like a to-scale model," Gideon said.
"Thanks," Reid said softly, and turned the toy over in his hands, studying it from different angles.
The pilot's voice cut in suddenly then, telling the passengers to please put their seat belts on. The pilot went over the basic safety instructions, the basic rules of the plane, explained where the oxygen masks were located and how to use them, approximately how long the flight would take and finished with a wish that they'd all have a great flight.
Reid glanced over at Gideon and sucked on his lip. His fingers were already digging little holes into the arm-rests and they hadn't even taken off yet, but the plane had begun to move on the runway.
"Reid, we'll be fine."
"Most crashes- I think it's 70%- occur during the take-off or the landing, even though those two manoeuvres only represent about 4% of total flight time."
"Which means that if we do crash, we won't be 30,000 feet up like you were so scared of," Gideon soothed, knowing it was slightly moronic to try and reason with an irrational fear.
But the statement seemed to calm Reid. Not much, but a tiny bit. And then, they began to speed up.
Gideon talked slowly and soothingly, walking Reid step-by-step through the take-off.
But when the plane actually began to pull up, Reid let out a startled shriek and buried his face in his hands.
Luckily Reid's fear only lasted for a few minutes, and by the time they were in the air his breathing had levelled out. Somewhat.
Reid was staring out the window at the blanket of clouds just outside his window.
"Gideon!" He pointed. Jason Gideon leaned over and looked.
"We're flying through Cumulonimbus clouds," the boy said in an awed tone of voice. "Cumulonimbus clouds can hover at about 300 meters above the Earth's surface, or 1,000 feet, but they can also continue to grow vertically, their tops extending over 12,000 meters or approximately 39,000 feet. We're flying through thunderclouds, Gideon. These are the clouds that are responsible for lightning, thunder and even tornadoes."
"Does that worry you, Reid?"
"I don't know. I was expecting to see Cirrus clouds. Those generally form at 20,000 feet and above."
"So those would be...high? For clouds?"
Reid nodded.
"Clouds that are considered to be at a medium altitude or middle-level clouds have the prefix alto in front of them, like altocumulus and altostratus. Altocumulus are the clouds most people think of when they think of clouds... the usual puff-ball type clouds most children draw. Altostratus clouds are usually gray or blue-gray and precede storms. Middle clouds form between 6,500 to 23,000 feet, approximately. The lower clouds are... did you know nimbus implies rain?"
"Does it?" Gideon asked. As long as Reid kept babbling about clouds, he probably wouldn't think about crash statistics.
"Yeah, well... in Classical Mythology a nimbus is also sometimes a shining aura surrounding a deity while on Earth..."
"Like a halo?" Gideon asked.
"Yeah."
"So in the Catholic Church, would those haloes around the baby Jesus in paintings and other forms of art count as nimbuses?"
"I assume so," Reid said, and then fell silent for a moment. "Jesus is considered a deity, isn't he?"
"I think that one is still up for debate."
"No, I mean, the Catholics would consider him a deity... a God. Right?"
"They consider him the son of God. A part of God in human form. The Messiah. The Jews consider him a prophet and..."
"I'm not sure then, I'll have to look it up when we land," Reid said seriously.
The boy was silent for a few moments before beginning to speak again.
"Cumulus refers to clouds that form in heaps or piles; Cirrus refers to thin, white filaments or narrow bands; Stratus to gray, horizontal streaks of clouds usually found at lower altitudes; Nimbus denotes rain or storm activity... cool, huh?"
"Very." Gideon said, smiling. Reid smiled back. The clouds were beginning to break up and turn into, well... some other form of cloud. Gideon leaned back in his seat.
"Reid?"
"Yeah?"
"My eyes are tired. I'm just going to close them, okay... but please keep talking about the clouds. It's really interesting stuff." Gideon felt a tiny bit guilty, but he knew that Spencer Reid could- and would- talk about a specific topic for hours, if not longer. And right now clouds were the topic of interest.
"Okay," Reid said cheerfully, sweetly oblivious to Gideon's boredom, and began to chatter on about Cirrocumulus clouds, abbreviated CC for convenience, also known colloquially as herringbone or mackerel clouds...
That's it for chapter 4, hope you liked this chapter. Will update with chapter 5 as soon as possible. I recently got a beta but because I don't have a computer at home, the beta-process will be a bit unusual- I will edit and spell and grammar check to the best of my ability, then post, and then if my beta finds any problems she will send me a PM and I will go back and fix any problems I think need fixing. This way readers don't have to wait as long for chapters to be updated, but glaring typos (if I do miss 'em) WILL be fixed.