And Carried Me Away
Chapter 10:
Spencer hissed in pain as he hit the floor, his elbows taking most of the impact. Though it stopped his head from hitting the floor, his left elbow hit the floor in just the right spot for the impact to be excruciating. He grimaced and cursed, distracted by the pain just long enough for Alsie to straddle him. Feeling her weight on top of him, his cheeks immediately flushed, his eyes widening and locking on Alsie. "Al..."
His sister's burnt sienna eyes stared down at him, familiar yet the gleam in them wasn't. It was cold, calculating. Not at all like Alsie, nor like her alter Ana. He swallowed, wondering if he'd triggered Emmie and thinking up how he could de-escalate things so Alsie could regain control.
"Um, Al...Emmie? I'm not a threat to Alsie. All right?" Spencer spoke softly, not moving anything but his eyes and lips. He glanced towards the bed, feeling relieved that Jemma was still sleeping. "I'm not going to do anything, Emmie. Alsie is safe, she is safe."
"...hm..heh." His sister smirked, her eyes narrowing. An uneasy feeling welled up in Spencer's gut, fighting against his certainty. It wasn't until Alsie's hand was wrapped around his throat that he realized it might not be Emmie staring down at him.
"A..." Spencer instinctively grabbed for the hand at his throat, alarmed though its owner hadn't started squeezing yet. She just held it there, threateningly.
"I thought you said you wouldn't move." His sister chided, leering down at him. Her thin lips pulled into a wry smile. It was evident, based on the tone, that this personality was testing him and his word.
Spencer paused, confused and fearful. His hand stopped midway on its way to grabbing the hand around his throat. He blinked, his brain whirling as he thought of who this alter was. Not Emmie, not Ana, certainly not Alsie herself. "I...Leigh? Are you Leigh?"
"Hm." The thin lips twitched, and a dry chuckle escaped them. "Yes. I am. And you...are a liar." Leigh glanced at Spencer's hand, her own still at his neck. Her lips twitched again as Spencer dropped his hand back to the floor.
"No. I'm not. I'm not a liar. You can trust me. I won't...I won't move." Spencer replied, his heart thumping. He tensed as Leigh tightened her grip slightly around his neck, not enough to be dangerous but enough that he questioned his resolve. If Leigh tightened her grip any further, he knew he'd break his promise and grab her arm. He also knew, going by the sinking feeling in his gut, that doing so would make things much worse. "Leigh, I...Let me talk to Alsie. Please. I'm not a threat. I..."
"Of course not. You're terrified." Leigh scoffed, her eyes recognizing the fear in Spencer's eyes. She frowned, removing her hand from his throat. "...you're nothing like James. Or Peter." Leigh muttered, shifting herself so that she was sitting on Spencer's stomach, her legs still straddling him.
"Wh..." Spencer took in a breath, relieved that Leigh hadn't decided to test his resolve. It wasn't himself getting hurt that had frightened him, but rather concern for Jemma's safety. As well as a reluctance to hurt Alsie. He took another deep breath, Leigh's mumble echoing in his thoughts. His eyes widened. "...What?"
Leigh stared down at Spencer, not bothering to respond to the single word question.
"You...James? Did you...do this to James? You..." Spencer asked, his brain running through a gauntlet of implications and likelihoods dependent on Leigh's answer. He didn't know much about James, but he couldn't imagine the older man to allow Leigh to choke him with impunity. Or to threaten him. Both which could only have meant terrible things for Alsie, things she may not remember.
"...heh. Don't worry." Leigh mumbled, touching Spencer's cheek. "He didn't mind it. At least, not enough that he'd hurt Alsie. Though..." She paused, moving a few stray strands of hair from Spencer's face. "...that has as much to do with his fear of Emmie." Another pause. "She broke his wrist once. And his fingers a few other times. Despite that, he just kept coming back. Almost like it was a sort of game. Or competition. Or maybe he just liked that Ana always appeared afterward."
"Leigh..." Spencer interrupted, not wanting to hear anything more especially not about what went on between Ana and James. "I..."
"Do you want Ana?"
"No. No." Spencer shook his head, grimacing at the thought and implication. "No. Leigh, I...I want to talk to Alsie. I need to talk to Alsie. About taking Jemma out for icecream and to the park today. She's been looking forward to today, and spending time together with her mom. Please."
"A...um. Hm." Leigh mulled over Spencer's words, her piercing eyes staring down at him. She licked her lip, considering him. Before she could say anything in response, the sound of the bed creaking drew their attention.
"Mahma? Unc' 'encer?" Jemma mumbled, staring down at the two, a loud and adorable yawn escaping her mouth. "Mah...awh. Icce ice...wan' icce c'eam."
"Jemma, hey." Spencer smiled at his niece, hiding his concern about her mother as he started signing. His eyes flitted to Alsie's face, hoping that seeing Jemma awake would trigger Leigh to switch back to Alsie. His stomach somersaulted when he saw his sister's face, the look in her eyes. "...Jem, why don't you go find auntie Joy?" Spencer signed his question, his gaze locked on his sister except for a few brief glances at Jemma to make sure his niece understood him. "Your cousin Kai would love to play with you."
"Buht..." Jemma pouted, almost whining when her uncle repeated his request. The expression on his face stopped her - and she crawled of the bed and toddled into the hallway, searching for her auntie Joy.
She completely missed the way Spencer suddenly grabbed her mother's hands, and the serious glare he gave his sister.
"Leigh." Spencer scowled at his sister, searching her face at the same moment he pushed her off of him. He squeezed her hands, his stomach twisting. The coldness - the loathing he saw in his sister's eyes as her alter Leigh stared at Jemma, horrified him. It had sent a chill through him. "...I need you to let me speak to Alsie. Leigh..."
Leigh simply glowered at him, attempting to wrest her hands out of his. His grip, however, was too firm.
"Leigh."
0
Prison:
"All right. Thank you." Hotch said to one of the correctional officers as he entered the next room. His expression remained stoic even as William Reid noticed him and approached. The door shut behind him.
"Agent Hotchner...I..."
Hotch shook his head. "I understand your reason for wanting to talk with James, Mr. Reid. You needed to know about his relationship with Alsie. About..." The agent paused, deciding to move on to his next sentence. "It doesn't surprise me. What does surprise me is how you convinced the warden to let you."
He didn't elaborate, though the other man understood what he meant. Pretending to be representing James as a lawyer just to get to question him was dangerous. If the prison or law board found out, it was likely to have ramifications for William.
William Reid simply gave Hotch a look that said that he didn't and wouldn't regret his decision despite whatever consequence. It was an expression Hotch quickly and quietly profiled, meshing it with what else he realized about the man over the past couple of months. How doting and protective he was of his daughter.
"...Alsie asked you to visit him." Hotch stated, not needing nor looking for a response. Instead he glanced around the room, his expression shifting a bit. It was slight surprise and slight confusion. "Where's James? Didn't you manage to convince him to agree to answering my questions?"
"Yes. He just needed a bathroom break. The guard should be bringing him back soon." William replied, his thoughts on James. He grimaced and sighed, irritated. "...just so you know, James agreed to this interview only if I sit in as his lawyer."
"But...that..." Hotch started to reply, only to be cut off by the sound of the prison door opening.
"...oh." James smirked as he entered the room, his attention shifting from the guard escorting him to the agent. His eyes gleamed as he recognized Hotch. "Hello. I didn't think you'd get here this quick."
"James, if you'd sit so we can start..." Hotch replied. His eyes narrowed as he noticed James shake his head while smirking.
"I want something first. Then I'll answer whatever you ask." James demanded, his dark eyes lingering on the agent's face. He practically ignored William, though the man studied him curiously. "...Deal? No deal?"
"This isn't a game, James." Hotch said, irritated by the thirty-six year old's smirk.
"...No. It's not." James replied after mulling silently a moment. He moved towards the table to sit, his foot hitting the leg of the table on the way. "...uck!"
"James, are you..."
"...I'm fine." James spat, sitting down quickly after recovering. He scowled at the two men, his glare especially livid when alighted on William.
Hotch paused before sitting down himself, not from hesitance but from curiosity. His profiler eyes hadn't missed the glare the younger man gave William. It was different than the one James gave him. The one he received was simply anger while the one William had received was more of a warning. Or an unspoken demand. More baffling was the curious and concerned look William returned.
The unit chief made note of both, then sat down. "All right. First..."
"...I want to see my daughter." James interrupted, glancing at his hands before shifting his gaze to Hotch. "I want to see Jemma."
0
Elsewhere:
The first thing Melissa Joyce noticed was the damp scent emanating from somewhere towards her right. It slowly expanded throughout the room but it was stronger in that direction. She swallowed, noticing then how dry her lips were; though she could smell a damp scent entering the room, the room itself felt so dry. Her head pounded, and she instinctively reached out to search for her walking stick.
She froze when a metallic rattling sound filled her ears and her reach was hindered by something wrapped around her wrists.
"No. No. Please no." She gasped, her lips trembling as she tried to wake herself up. It felt so real, this nightmare, so like the others she'd suffered through. Yet...her nightmares never had such a stench in them and the room was usually cold. And she could see in them...
Melissa trembled, becoming more worried the longer her blindness remained - evidence that it wasn't a nightmare. She was, somehow, trapped again with the psycho. He must've gotten out and come to finish her. He was supposed to be in prison for life, but somehow he'd to have escaped or...
"Where are you? Please...just let me go. Please!" She cried, and reflectively moved her arms what little way she could to block her stomach. The sound of a scuffling foot or bag could be heard across the room. "Please just let us go..."
The scuffling stopped, replaced by the sound of a sure footstep approaching. She realized the truth from the stranger's step even before he spoke, the voice not the same one as the man's who assaulted her in Western New York.
"...us?" The unknown voice asked, and Melissa tried to cover her stomach even more protectively. Her heart thumped terribly beneath her ribcage, fear enveloping her more firmly than before. "Us?"
The man repeated, what he was doing unknown to Melissa, though she sensed he was staring at her closely. She tried to squirm away, an useless endeavor because of the chains binding her ankles as well as her arms.
"Please..." She cried as strong, furious arms pulled hers away from her abdomen. "Don't...don't hurt..."
"...you..." The man growled, his glare on the just noticeable baby bump.