Chapter 4
Versace And Leather
Tin Het Often Says: bollocks…
A/N: AAARRRGGGGG: I don't know how this is going to read….I've not read it back…I just want to post it and see what happens. Some of you will know why I've had a shit day…the rest of you…believe me…It's been shit.
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.
It was over by the time we arrived. Much too late for any medical help.
The guy on the bike had been crushed by the truck. There wasn't much left of his chest area. He must have died instantly. Probably before the truck even hit him judging by the damage to his head. Riding with no helmet…not that it would have made any difference.
The truck driver was being treated and I went to look at the dead guy.
They've laid him on his back and I feel so sad. He looks like the type of person who enjoys life…sorry enjoyed life. I don't know whose fault the accident was but usually if it's a truck and a bike then the truck is at fault….but that's not my problem. We have to find out who this guy is and they are getting ready to put him in the body bag…I will take him back to the mortuary and sift through his stuff and do the necessary tests. But this is a bad case…Too young – too pretty…looks like he's on his way out for a date. Some girl is going to cross that she got stood up, and then devastated when she gets the call.
And now I am standing looking down at him in the mortuary and I still have no idea who he is. I've closed his eyes. They were staring at me like he was watching what I was doing. I make a note of what he is wearing and of his belongings. I hate this part of the job. I hate prying into someone's life…when it is so recently been taken.
Boots. Very worn and scuffed and old.
Jeans. Black Versace high waisted, with a double row of buttons on the fly. Very expensive and sort of out of odds with the western style boots.
From here it is very hard to see what he was wearing on his upper half but it looks to be white – silk or is that fine cotton – shirt, and a full length black leather coat. Everything expensive. Everything well cut. I have to go through his pockets…I hate doing this. Not because of the horrible things I might find…I am well used to finding shit…what I don't like finding is the family photos….the pictures of the kids…the missed calls on the cell phone. It's painful. The front pockets of his jeans seem to be empty but I will turn him over later and check out the back pockets. I pull open the front of his coat and have a look at the bloody mess underneath. The coat was ripped probably as he slid along the road. The thoughts of his last images he must have had in his head make my stomach crawl. Even in death there is something strangely alluring about this man.
There don't seem to be any inside pockets on the jacket and I can't see any on his shirt. Something makes me touch his neck. I'm not sure what it is but – oh boy out of all the men I have to fall for why does he have to be dead? I have to pull my eyes away from his face…blood splattered and one side of it is messed up but the other is fine….so fine…
Back to his coat pockets and I start to find things…a pack or smokes…and a small silver lighter…I put them in a box at the side and then carry on…there is also some strange bits of cellophane wrapped tightly around something and I wonder if it might be drugs…and so I look at him again…a druggy? He doesn't look like one, but the bloods will tell us anything like that. In the next pocket on the other side there is a bit of paper….it is a note scribbled down. The phone number for a hospital. Someone is in hospital. I turn to look at him again.
"Please don't say you were rushing to get to the hospital." I put my hand on the side of his face and hope that this Spencer person will be OK…or equally dead. Somewhere in between will just not cut it now. There isn't anything else in his pockets….no cell phone and no wallet. I wonder if they came out during the accident or if they were somewhere else on the bike.
I need to turn him over and this isn't going to be fun…but I put my hands on his shoulder and roll him over on the metal table he is laying on. It makes a nasty squishing sound. I lift away the back of his coat and I am just standing staring at the finest ass I have ever seen….yes it is in jeans…and yes it is on a corpse….but my god – that is going to be one well mourned backside. I look back to the bit of paper he had screwed up in his pocket. 'Spencer.' A boyfriend….this fine posterior is gay?
"Lucky Spencer." Well he was lucky….my good god. I slide my had into his back jeans pocket and for a horrible….no….wonderful….no vile and disgusting….moment I leave it there and I want to squeeze that flesh through his jeans. There is nothing in his pocket though….so I slowly check the next…and I pull out a pass…membership pass for a club. 'Babylon' it says, but I've not heard of it. He was going on a date with Spencer to a club? And now one is in hospital and the other dead. How wrong is that? I look at the membership pass again and there is a signature on the bottom…very fancy cursive but easy to read. I make a note of the name…and then put it back. I am for now going to assume it is his name. Maybe they will get more from the bike.
Carefully I turn him back over again and I move to the bottom of the table and hold the foot. Always best to take the footware off first. I pull on the boot and it slides out easily…but now I am standing looking at that foot and it is a perfect foot and the thought of putting a name tag on it hurts! Oh god I've never felt like this before over someone brought in…I don't know what it is about this person…Floyd…if that is – was….is his name…
I have my protective gloves on….obviously I do…but this…this …………
I sigh as I pull my glove off. I have to touch him. I don't know why…I don't know what it is making me do this…but I need to put my hand on his skin…And it is soft, oh so soft and his toenails are painted black and it makes me smile and I wonder if he did that or if this Spencer guy did it…and suddenly I am crying. I have to make some phone calls….
Quickly I make a name tag and I tie it to his toe….I then pull off the other boot and I place both in the box. Moving back up to his head I look down at his face. "I'll be back later Floyd….don't worry…I will sort everything out.
-o-o-o-
They are taking him down for more brain scans….now the worry is that he has started a bleed or something. Gideon and I watched as he fell and then the convulsions started which is why he is here now…I insisted on leaving a note for Flanders though I doubt he would have turned up anyway…well at least I hoped he wouldn't. I want Flanders to keep away. I want to protect Spencer from the pain he is in and there are too many things getting in the way. Gideon. Yes he was like the father to Spencer but something has shifted…in both of them…there is a change….Flanders…just one abusive thing after another but recently? Where is he now? Did he go to the apartment? If he had been there when he said, then where was he now? He should have received the note.
Gideon is sitting drinking coffee and so I leave the room and find someone on reception. I want to know if Flanders has contacted the hospital at all. Why the hell do I care? I don't really but I know Reid will. I want to be able to tell him something good for a change…something to help relax him.
"Agent Hotchner?" A voice from behind me as I leave Reid's room. I turn and see a woman walking towards me holding a bit of paper.
"Yes?" I stand and slide my hands into my suit trouser pockets….I am so tired that I think I could fall asleep standing up.
"We've had a call from uh – well I was wondering…do you know of a Floyd Flanders?"
The name makes my skin crawl and that twist in the pit of my stomach intensifies. "Yes – is he here?"
"Can you come with me please?" and she is half turning and indicating a side room….something is wrong. I can feel it…the atmosphere suddenly changed and I wonder if this is one of the ways Flanders tracks….is he sensitive to these feelings? I frown and follow her into a small green painted room….where she requests that I sit down.
"I was wondering…." She says to me… "How well you know him."
Now what do I say? How much do I tell her. "He is a friend of Dr Reid…..of Spencer's…is there something wrong?" and I know there is because she isn't looking at me she is looking down at the bit of paper.
"He's been arrested or something?"
"I'm sorry…Really sorry…There was an RTA between a motorbike and a truck…." She didn't have to say more….well under normal circumstances she wouldn't have to say more.
"He's dead? How? Are you sure it's him?"
She bit on her bottom lip and still she wouldn't look up at me. "We need someone to identify the body. Does he have a next of kin that you know of….who we should be talking to?"
And I am shaking my head and this is just not happening….the one thing I want so badly…to be free of him….and now it's happened and I want this woman to be wrong. "He has a young son…I know him…I can identify for you." I have to know for sure. I have to see how someone who can't be killed is dead.
I quickly go back and tell Gideon that I have to do something…there is no point in us all getting wound up over this if nothing has happened…if it's not him. He has a very different relationship to Floyd than I do….Flanders seems to form different sorts of bonds with everyone. He tolerates Rossi…He flirts with Prentiss – which I must say is the oddest of all the bonds he has made…with Gideon he allows Reid to get close to him, knowing nothing will happen….with Morgan…I think he feels threatened. Derek is a good looking guy – and I don't think he is too taken by the skin colour either…I will talk to Flanders about that one day….or maybe I wont….I don't know if this is him or not, but the closer we are getting the more fearful that it is him I am getting. Flanders doesn't like me – he again feels threatened….he I think may feel Reid would be tempted by me…because – yes…that body is desirable. Yes I have stood around in the locker room waiting to see it dripping wet and pink from the hot water…this is why Flanders can't stand the smell of me on him…
"We are here….do you want me to prepare him? Or do you want to come in?"
At first I didn't understand….she meant I think did I want to view him from behind glass…. "I'm fine…I'll come in." Not the first body I would have seen.
I was expecting him to be in a chiller…but they still had him laid out on the metal table…they had covered the body over though. I took a deep breath…on one hand I wanted it to be him…I wanted the hold he had over Spencer to be gone…on the other I knew if this was him then Spencer – I didn't know what would happen.
So here I am standing next to the table and there she is looking nervously at me as she pulls back the sheet to reveal the face.
I stare at it.
And the room begins to swim so I put my hand out and hold onto the table edge. "Cause of death?" I whisper it. I can't believe what I am looking at…I don't want to believe it. I am staring at his mouth…blue around the edges but somehow still tempting. My hand wants to reach out and touch it.
"Massive trauma to the chest. His bike was hit by a truck…the front wheels…." Her voice trailed off….maybe it did or maybe I didn't want to listen to anymore…I reach out….I can see my hand through some dry ice mist reaching for the edge of the sheeting and I pull it back and now I am just staring at what he is wearing.
"He's dressed up." I mutter to myself. "How did you connect him with me?"
And she is showing me the club pass and the note we had stuck to the door. "Was he on his way here?"
She looks down at her notes….and she tells me where the accident happened. "It seems he was speeding."
This is something I can never tell Spencer. I must never say that he died in a rush to get here. He must never have that knowledge. The fact that he is dead will be bad enough.
"That is Flanders." I say and I think I am whispering again and I want to touch his lips. "I will arrange for his body to be removed."
"We are still waiting for the bloods to come back…we suspect he was on drugs or drinking at the time….he lost control of the bike it says."
I walk back up to the room Reid is staying in with so many things going through my mind I don't know what to do first. I need to sit and I need to think and I need to work out how to tell Spencer. I am sure the school Sam is at will be informing him, but I will have to let the school know….but not now….now I have to sit and I have to think.
-o-o-o-
It's dark and the temperature is that nothingness that you get in the spring.
I sit up and look around and still it is dark and still I can see nothing and so I put my hands to my eyes and find they are closed…..slowly I open them but still there is nothing….how can there be nothing?
I put my hands on the floor next to me and feel the ground and I am half expecting grass….but this isn't grass…this is again a nothing.
I am home….they have brought me home. So I close my eyes again and try to think what happened….
Shit….I got mown down by a fucking truck…
I get to my feet slowly but I have pains in my chest…this isn't something I would normally get when I am here. I must have really done a good job on myself. I look for light…or listen for sound and there is nothing. I will walk in circles for a while….its strange….I am barefoot….someone has taken my boots.
"Hey!! What's going on?" I call out, not really expecting an answer. "Why am I here?" I call again only this time there is a reply.
"Because you fucked up again." And the voice is coming from all around me and so I stand still and just listen.
"I was going to get him….I was going to help him! How is that a fuck up?"
"Because you were too late. So we brought you here….your job with him is over. You failed."
It suddenly dawns on me….the nightmares…he is having nightmares and they have dragged him here. "You can't do that to him. You can't destroy him like that."
"Shut your dirty mouth – it's over. You want another chance, you will get it…but not with this one."
Now I don't like the sound of this. Not with Spence? I can't exist without Spence.
"You killed him?" I am walking quickly now….eventually I will reach something.
"Not yet….it will be slow…and painful…and it will be your doing." The voice was changing…It sounded like a thousand people all talking at the same time with one voice dominant…that dominant voice was morphing into another one.
"NO!" and I am running….I need to stop what they are doing…."You can't – you can't do that to him."
And for a while there is nothing but the sound of my breathing and my heart thumping in my chest. "Then trade him. We will take someone else…but it must be a good trade …and someone you love."
And I get flashes and images of people I have loved in the past and moved on from….if indeed it was love, but there has never been a bond as strong as this one…and I don't know who to offer…
"Rosa."
And the word is out of my mouth before I can properly think about the consequences of sacrificing my daughter in exchange for Spencer.
"Done."
And I want to take it back….I know they will force me to watch…and I don't know that I can….
"And Spencer?"
"Will be caught in his nightmares until you fix him properly."
"But you took me!"
"Well you're a big boy….go heal yourself." And suddenly the floor is falling away from me and I open my mouth to scream but I have no air in my lungs and I just fall and carry on falling and I can hear Spencer screaming and fall past him and try to call out his name but there is nothing but a sudden darkness….a cold vile sticky darkness and pain….unbelievable indescribable pain and still in the back of my mind I can hear Spencer shouting out and calling …and he is calling my name but I am stuck unable to move until I can heal….