Chapter 10

The Drugs

I think I'm getting a cold.

When I wake up in the morning feeling empty…not hungry…just completely empty I have a blocked nose and a sore throat.

I clean my teeth down in the communal washrooms then walk back to my room. Still only have pyjamas…surely they will let me have my clothes soon? I walk slowly down to the place where we sit and get food.

It is brought to us. I think it is because most of us shake too much to be able to carry the plastic trays of food. We always sit in the same places. Always. No rule about it…it just happens…and I sit at the end of the second table…and it reminds me of being at school again. Not quite fitting in with the rest of them. Not quite able to relax. My mind everywhere except on what it should be. I have eggs – scrambled…and a bit of toast cut into two triangles placed in front of me.

"Good morning Spencer."

And a plastic spoon.

"I was wondering." I say to the guy. "When I can have my own clothes. Seems everyone else here does."

And I get a smile in return.

"Everyone else takes their meds Spencer. Everyone else eats their food. Everyone else behaves."

I look at the food and push the tray away from me. I don't want the drugs they are putting in my food. I want to think straight. I don't want to be drugged.

"I need to talk to my counsellor." I say.

But he just walks away from me muttering something about only getting treats when you learn the rules.

I leave my food where it is. I'm meant to show it to someone before I leave. They like to monitor what people are eating…but I think there must be a reason for it other than curiosity…and I don't like being watched like they do. So I leave it and walk to the television room where Sesame Street is playing and people are laughing and drooling and pissing themselves….and I am one of these people now.

I walk away again…and find the table tennis room. Harvey is in there playing with a ball. But not playing the game…no point in even trying to get a game with Harvey in there….he is likely to eat the ball just to stop anyone else.

I am wondering what to do next when a voice next to me and a hand on my arm alerts me that someone is wanting to talk to me.

"Spencer?"

I turn and look at the orderly and I sigh.

"Yes." I say. A statement not a question.

"You didn't eat your breakfast."

And I sigh and turn…I know what is coming next and I don't see why I have to make it easy for them. I start to run….and they are on me and pulling me to the floor before I get more than three paces away.

"NO!" I don't want to be drugged. "Please don't." But the needles are in me….and I can feel the cold and the burning of the drugs hitting my system as I lay there on my back and look into the eyes of the guys holding me down.

Somehow in the struggle my pyjama top has come undone and I am laying there displaying my chest and stomach.

"What the hell happened to you?" One of them asks…but I grab my scant clothing and pull it around me.

"Nothing." I want to get to my feet but they are still holding me down. My nose has started to run too…and now I have a headache. "Please…let me go." The stress is hurting my chest…I can hear I am wheezing and I feel I will start coughing soon.

I feel like crap.

"Someone will want to talk to you about those marks boy."

I lay there and frown at them. "I'm not a boy."

"No – no you're not…you just act like a kid. Get up and go to your room. You just earned a point against your name."

So I push myself up onto my elbows and sit watching as they move away. Then I look down at my chest and stomach. I can see the marks there…but don't I always have marks on me like that? I touch the scar on my chest and run my hand over the one on my arm. Then I sigh and groggily get to my feet.

"I'm not going to let you do this to me." I say. "I wont let you!" I say louder.

They come back…they take me arms and feet and carry me to my room. They dump me on the bed and stand there waiting for someone. A big guy in a suit arrives and stands looking at me.

"We need to get some things straight Spencer. You are here because you committed a crime. I personally think you should be locked in jail with the other criminals…you are here under sufferance. And I am telling you…if you refuse your medication…if you keep fighting us on this one of two things will happen. You will be put in a jacket and a padded room…or you will be sent to county jail to serve your fifteen years and the final decision will ultimately be mine. I will decide if you are insane Spencer…or just avoiding what you should be doing. Keep pissing me off and you will be out of here faster than you can blink and your damned counsellor cant help you then!"

They lock in me in my room for the day. I spend it laying on the bed trying to find the strength to move. Trying to get the energy back the stupid meds stripped me of…but there is nothing there…so when they some in during the after noon and drag me down to the showers there is nothing much I can do to stop them. They strip me off and shove me under the warm water and stand and watch as I curl up into a ball on the floor and let the water wash over me. I don't want them to see my nakedness…it is mine…I don't want to share with anyone but….but….Floyd…and maybe Hotch…maybe.

I know they are watching me. I know they are going to go back and report me for being awkward…but this is my life. I need to try to preserve what is mine. I don't know how long they left me there for…not very long I don't think….but they grab my arms and pull me out again.

"Stand there and dry yourself." They tell me.

"I I w wanted….I wanted my own c c clothes." They are making me feel nervous.

"You get pyjamas for now boy." I hate being called a boy. It is belittling but for now I don't say anything. It will only aggravate them.

"I need to see my counsellor." Is what I say as I rub the rough towel over my bruised skin. My throat still hurts and my nose is running again….but I deal with that. Once dressed again the say.

"Come with us." And they take my arms and guide me from the showers and down the corridor to a room I've not been in before. It is small and white and there is nothing much in it. They ask me to stand against the wall…and suddenly it feels as though I am in front of a firing squad.

"Why? I stand and face them but I don't move back.

"because you were told to." I am informed.

"Look you cant tell me to do something and not explain why."

So they stop talking to me and drag me over to the wall. "Strip down to your waist." The taller of them says.

"What? No!" and I want to get out of the room…I need to get out quickly…sudden fear has over ridden everything else. If Floyd finds out…and he will…then I will be in trouble. But I don't have much choice. They drag me back to the wall and they have my top off before I realise what they are doing. One of them pulls out a camera and they tell me.

"Stand still. We need to have photographic evidence of your injuries."

"I don't have any!" And I start to walk forward again.

"We can do thins like this Spencer…or we can restrain you. Those are the choices. You decide."

I have a very horrible feeling about all of this. I don't want this happening so again I attempt the leave….and this time a big red button next to the door is presses and they are pulling me to the floor as the door springs open and more people rush in.

Maybe I am screaming….I'm not sure now…things are going fuzzy but there is a lot of noise going on. I can feel I am being lifted off the floor by my arms and legs again…and I wriggle and writhe and try to get away but they have hold of me too tightly…and really where the hell am I going to run to? All the doors leading out are locked.

Someone is shouting…someone is screaming and I'm still not sure if it is me or not….I am laid down on a bed and then straps are placed across me…and still I struggle and am I spitting at them….I think I bit someone…I can taste blood in my mouth…and now I can feel that familiar woozy feeling of drugs flooding my mind and slowing me down.

They don't knock me out. They just take every thing from me. My ability to think…and my ability to fight…I just stay there….and I let them take the straps off again and I let them strip me off completely and I let them take photos…there's nothing I can do to stop it. They make notes…they make comments…they ask me things…

"Did someone assault you?"

And yes…they did…often…but my mouth and brain don't work and I cant tell them. I can feel them touching me and inspecting me and asking me more questions..

"Who did this to you Spencer. These aren't from being restrained. What the hell happened?"

But nothing happened…I have nothing to tell them so I shake my head very carefully because it feels as though my brain has come loose of its housing. I want to be left alone. I want to sleep…I want …no I need Floyd.

-o-o-o-

It hurts like hell. And I can promise you that hell hurts and the further I walk the worse it is getting. I've pulled my jacket closed around me to hide the blood but I need to make sure people don't see me. I don't want to be stopped…I have to get home. I have to get my meds…I have to numb my mind to all of this shit.

The back way in is the way I go…it's always easy to just walk in. No security around here. I didn't get the chance to shower…I stnk. I smell of blood and dirt and Hotchner…and Morgan…and I need to get it off me somehow.

I walk down the concrete stairs and down a small passage and then through a big dark room and out the other side. Out there are more doors…and one of them I walk through. I lock it behind me and walk slowly to the mattress on the floor….I flop down onto my back and drape an arm over my face to shield it from the low dim light.

On the floor next to the bed are phials and syringes. My morphine injections. I snatch up one of each and inspect them carefully. The pain is so intense not that my eyes are watering and making it hard to read…and now my hands are shaking…

"Such shit." I wanted to go and see Spencer. I wanted to lay with him and hold him and love him. I wanted to comfort and protect him…but I'm laying here trying to dope myself up instead cos that bastard shot me. He bloody shot me…I still cant believe it. I should have used it on him. I really should have…but a promise made by me isn't lightly given…and I squeeze my eyes shut and hold my treasures tightly.

I don't know how much I suck up into the syringe…I don't know how much I inject into my body…I am going into shock I think…the shaking is increasing…I have to stop it quickly.

And as it slowly takes over and gradually the pain dies back I pull my knees up and undo the front of my jeans and give myself a hand job. The best I will get tonight….but that's painful too. I will need to go and get antibiotics before it gets too bad and I need that other crap again. I seem to pick up STD's a bit too easily. Maybe I should use protection….maybe I shouldn't fuck someone who is diseased…it's not like I cant tell and so as one pleasure over takes the pain I lay back and close my eyes and pretend it is Spencer's mouth working on me…that glorious mouth…that wonderful tongue…and good god….this is perfect…

When I open my eyes next it is dark and the pain has gone…my task now is to get rid of the smells on me which don't belong there.

I roll off the mattress and slowly pull the blooded clothing off. My shirt and jacket are ruined…and so I just throw them into a corner….and then I inspect the damage to my chest. Still it is bleeding slightly. I need to lay down again and try to let it heal…but I also need to see Spencer…but as I try to walk to get a bottle of water I can feel my legs giving way under me and I am suddenly on the floor.

"Shit." I mutter to myself. "I need more time."

'sorry babes….I'll be there when I can'

I send him a little mental message. Just so he knows I am still here…I am still needing him…and so I roll to my back again and close my eyes and think of him…think of his eyes…his mouth his everything….and my hand makes it's way back to my pleasure zone and I enjoy thinking about him while I lay here trying to stop myself bleeding out.

-o-o-o-

I am in my room again….and I don't know why they have this attitude about me. What do they think I'm going to do? I am kept locked in for the night. I can see the small light blinking on and off where they cameras are monitoring me. I just want to be in peace. I want to be left alone. I want out of this damned place…but I don't know how that will happen. If I comply and let them do what they want I will spend then rest of my life sedated. If I protest they strap me down and sedate me…or they will send me out and to the prison…and I don't want to be there. I cant be there…they will kill me…I will spend my life in solitary. Which I suppose is what is happening now. They are keeping me away from the others…they come in and give me food…and when I refuse it they threaten to tube feed me.

"You cant. I don't want food." I tell them.

"You are sick…you don't know what you are talking about." They tell me "We are trying to make you better."

"You are drugging me."

"You are refusing your medication."

"Exactly. I want to think…I want to know what is going on.

"And we need to keep control Spencer."

"I am in control." I hiss at them…

"Are you going to tell us who raped you?"

Raped? Is that what they think? "No one….I wasn't raped…nothing happened…now go away and leave me."

"You are covered in bite marks and scratches Spencer." The guy in the suit is talking to me now.

"I wasn't raped!"

And in response I am jabbed with needles and told. "You have two more days Spencer…two days to show us if you are insane or not. Then you will be moved. It's up to you. Talk to us…tell us what is going on in your head…explain the marks…then we will know what to do."

I turn my head from him as my eyes get heavy and the room dims. "I wasn't raped." I repeat.