Poison

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

"Yes I can understand what you are saying Agent Hotchner, but this Flanders person is not an American citizen. I think you will find he is Italian Gypsy stock, so I will feel no obligation to return the man to you. – Yes I can hear you Agent Hotchner, and I sympathise with you on this, but they are being treated as a partnership. – No Sir, we have our own technicians. – Yes I am listening to you as I listened to Mr Gideon and my answer is still the same. He had ample opportunity to get out of the situation he was in. He had a phone, who could have called for help. – Yes I am listening, I am wondering if you are." A very long pause as he listened. "Yes I understand, but we do not need your help yet. If later I feel the urge to call for help, you will be first on my list. – Yes I have listened, and yes I know Dr Reid is an American citizen – but right now he's with a dangerous serial killer through his own choice."

……………….

He woke up in a dark corner of a dark room alone. He was secured to a ring by a chain attached to his wrist. His chest hurt from being so violently sick earlier. His throat hurt, his nose stung. He felt like shit. He carefully felt around himself to see I he could work out where he was. Stone floor. Brick walls. A curved ceiling so probably still in the underground complex somewhere. He was wearing his sweat pants and a damp T-shirt. On the floor next to him was a plastic carrier bag. He carefully put his hand inside and felt around. Pack of pills? A small bottle, matches, what seemed to be a candle, a cell phone a small knife a flask with liquid in it. He held the candle with one shaking hand and struck a match with the other. The candle hardly lit up anything in the room, which appeared to be an old storage room. He looked down again at the strange mix of things he had been given. His Geodon – a bottle with Floyds writing on it.

He flipped open the cell phone. It had full battery but no cell reception obviously. Next he picked up the flask he twisted open the top and sniffed it - Whiskey. Floyd had given him the one thing he had refused him earlier. He picked up the small bottle and held it to the light of the candle to read the writing.

Spence. Drink this when it gets too much.

And under it a small skull and crossbones picture.

He tried standing but the ring he was attached to was in the floor and the chain to his wrist was too short. Spencer sat in the light of his one candle. "I won't give in to you Floyd. I am not going to shout and beg for help."

You will be dead soon anyway.

"I will be fine."

You should have got away when you could.

"I didn't want to."

No one will ever find you here.

"It doesn't matter anymore."

Drink the poison now.

"Not yet." He picked it up and turned the bottle over in his hand.

Get it over with Spence.

"I'm not ready."

You won't be missed.

"Mum will miss me."

Floyd is the nearest you will ever get to happiness.

"I am aware of that."

You should have just accepted it.

"I thought I did."

…………..

He sat in the cold and shivered and drank some of the whiskey and checked the time on the cell phone, and took his Geodon with a gulp of whiskey, and the candle was burning away and it was getting colder. He heard nothing and he saw no one. He pulled at the cuff around his wrist until it was swollen and bleeding. He dripped wax on it to make it slippery and try to pull his hand out. He looked at the knife he had been given and looked at his arm. Was he meant to do something? Was this a test or was he just abandoned here. Was Floyd on his way back to America, or onto Europe? Where were the boys? He turned the phone on again and looked at the time. He would run the batteries out if he wasn't careful.

"What does it matter? You can't get out anyway, and there will never be a cell signal down here – But when the candle is gone I can use the phone for light."

He sat and dripped wax in little lines along his left arm. It didn't really hurt. In fact it warmed him up for a tiny while.

………..

If they were looking for him on the Underground then they were too close for comfort. He was cross that Reid had messed it up again. Why did he always mess it up? Time to move on. He called his boys together. All except his number one boy. He had fifteen boys now and he had fifteen small bottles. He called him into a small room very much like the one he had locked Reid in, and gave them each a bottle. "Drink up boys – sleep well." And he locked the door behind them and moved on. He stood and listened at another door. He couldn't hear any movement or calls for help or rattling; only the slow sounds of dripping water.

He could take him with him or leave him here. If he left him he will probably be dead by the morning. He moved quickly down the passageway. He knew they would find him down here. His boy was standing at the junction. Go right and out into sunlight. Go left and die. What simple choices. Why were all decisions not this easy to make. Floyd called his boy over to him and pushed the hair off his sick looking thin face. I need to let you go. I have to move on. He bent down and kissed his boy gently on the mouth and told him to hurry up into the light before someone comes and finds him. Floyd stood alone and watched then slowly returned to the door and stood looking at it.

…………..

Reid lay on his side alone. He had taken four of his Geodon, and he had drunk all the whiskey. His candle was out, and his matches gone, and finally the battery had died on the cell phone. He thought at one time that he heard footsteps and something pass the door but nothing came in. No light, nothing. He tried calling out for help but his throat was so dry he could hardly make a noise now. All he had left was the knife and the small bottle.

Go on do it.

Get it over with now.

He's not coming back for you.

No one knows where you are.

Just one sip to see what its like.

What are you so scared of?

You have no water.

You are dehydrated through the alcohol.

Finish it now.

Come on Spence have a drink.

He slipped the stopper out of the bottle and sniffed the contents. It smelt of honey and it made his mouth water. The thought of a liquid on his lips made his head swim. He poured a small amount out onto his hand and licked it slowly, making sure he licked his lips to stop them feeling so dry. If this was the end then at least he could go with moisture in his mouth. Reid lifted the small bottle to his mouth and tipped it back. It was lovely. It was like honey and peppermints.

……………….

Floyd finally opened the door and shone a flashlight into the room. He could see the huddled form on the floor, but there was no movement – too late. He walked slowly over to Spencer and crouched down next to him. Floyd could see the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and feel a slight warmth in his skin.

"Spence."

Nothing.

He looked at the things surrounding him. He saw the empty flask and the used matches and the open dead phone, and the remains of what had been a candle and he could see the top of the bottle in his hand.

"Spence – we are leaving."

"Leave me here."

"I was going to. I can't."

"Leave me where they will find me."

"I can't." He unlocked the cuff from around the bleeding and bruised wrist.

"I don't want to go with you Floyd."

"You don't?" Genuine surprise in his voice.

"I want to go home Floyd. I want my books."

"I will get books for you."

"I need my friends."

"You don't have friends. They don't love you the way I do."

"No one loves anyone the way you do. It's not love Floyd."

"What? Of course it is." He ruffled Reid's dirty hair.

"Who told you this was love. You have been told this is how someone acts if it is love. That person lied to you Floyd."

"I don't understand. I am teaching you."

"Its not love. It's torture. It's abuse. This is not love."

"Hell Spence, I came back, I rescued you!"

"You put me here, so it doesn't count."

"It doesn't count?"

"Just leave me alone Floyd. Go away before they catch you."

"I can't leave you here. I need you with me."

"Please just go Floyd. Leave me. I need to heal and think. I can't do that with you. You just keep hurting me. I have had enough. I don't want to be with you. I want to go home."

Floyd stood up. "Are you sure? If I promise to stop hurting you?"

"You won't keep that promise." He started to sit up rubbing at his wrist.

"Spence."

"One more chance." He grabbed hold of Floyd's belt and pulled himself to his feet. "What was in that small bottle?"

"Peppermint and honey."

"Oh."

"You are coming with me then?"

"Where else would I go?"

……………………………