The Talk

Brian:- Basic rule of advertising and eternal damnation: Once you sell your soul to the devil, he holds the copyright.

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Spencer stood looking at the small town house which Hotch now lived in. It was a nice place with six stone step leading up to the front door.

"I will be back in an hour. You have an hour to sort this shit out Spence and then I come to get you."

"I know."

Floyd sat on the bike looking at Spencer's back. "You're nervous. You don't have to do this you know."

Not looking back. "I do need to do this." Two steps forwards towards Aaron's home.

"You have an hour. Check your watch. I don't want to have to come in and get you."

Spencer looked down at the watch strapped over his shirt sleeve and nodded. "One hour – I got it." He stood until he heard the roar of the bikes engine and he knew Floyd had gone and then started his walk up the steps to Aaron's front door.

The door was solid wood. No glass, just wood. A security camera was blinking a red light and a small metal button for the bell. Spencer just stood looking at it for a while. Finger ready to press the bell. He was wasting time. Spencer looked down at his watch and saw that nearly ten minutes had gone and all he had done was stand here looking stupid.

He prodded the bell and heard a buzz from the other side. He wanted to do something other than stand there like a lemon and so he slipped his hands into his pockets and waited.

The door finally opened. Hotch stood there in jeans and Tshirt and just stared at Spencer.

"Did you want something?" He didn't look over joyed to see Reid standing there.

"We need to – to t talk."

Hotch took a step forwards out of his house. "Can I come in?"

"You might need to talk Reid. I don't. No you may not come in. I am not interested in what you have to say. I think you have made you feelings and loyalties quite clear."

"Hotch – p please. I – I need to ex explain."

"I am busy – and you are not welcome here. Go back to Floyd." Turning to walk back into his home… Reid put a hand out and touched his back.

"Please Aaron."

Hotch spun on him. His face hard and cold. "Don't you ever touch me Reid. Ever. Do you understand me?"

Spencer took a step backwards. "Just give me five minutes."

But Hotch was back through his door and the door was closing. He thought about ringing the bell again – but knew he wouldn't. He took a step back in stunned silence. He really did think that the two of them could sort it. Another step back. Now to call Floyd and tell him to come back and get him. He turned and took another step forwards this time as he looked down at his watch and stepped into nothing.

Spencer felt his face hit the stone steps he put out his arm with the watch on it to try to stop further damage. The other hand was jammed deeply into his pocket still.

He lay stunned at the bottom of Hotch's steps. He rolled over onto his back and put a hand to his face. He had caught him self across the bridge of the nose and the brow of his dodgy eye. He looked at the blood on his fingers and without thinking licked it off.

Reid pushed himself up to sit and then on shaking legs he stood. He looked down at his watch but his vision was fuzzy and his focus was out and so he sat on Hotch's steps and waited. Head in his hands watching the slow drip of blood fall onto the leg of his jeans thinking where this all went so wrong. It was him self. This was all his stupid fault and now he had lost the one person he could always rely on to help him and protect him. Maybe he was old enough now not to have to Hotch there to hold his hand through the tough times. Maybe Floyd was that person now. He didn't know. Deep down he knew though it was Aaron he needed for that security. It grounded him. Made things feel real. Kept him sane.

A hand on his head. He thought it was Aaron and a small smile was on his face when he looked up.

"What the fuck happened!" It was Floyd.

"He wouldn't talk."

"So he hit you?"

Reid put a hand on Floyd's arm and pulled himself up. "No- no nothing like that. I fell."

Floyd put a hand on each of Reid's shoulders and turned him towards the steps going up to Hotch's door. "He will talk to you babes. I will make sure of it."

"I just want to go home. I will write him a letter – or email – phone him."

"OK…what ever you think is best. I will get you home for now." he took Spencer's hand and guided him to the bike.

-o-o-o-

He stood in the bathroom as Floyd looked at the damage done. He wiped Reid's face with a cloth. It wouldn't need stitches he didn't think but he put a big dressing over it.

"Spence – but the patch on. You should keep your eye safe until you get that surgery done."

Reid shook his head. "It's fine. I feel like an idiot wearing it."

"You will look more of an idiot if you do more damage to it." He gave Spencer a kiss on the nose. "There is a light fat free unsalted organic lettuce in the fridge if you are hungry."

"I am tired Floyd. I just want to sleep." He started to walk away.

"Wait. Wait up Spencer I really need to talk to you about something."

Reid's shoulders slumped as he turned ready for a thumping. That was the only way Floyd ever really talked. He shouldn't have talked Floyd into letting him see Hotch and he shouldn't have touched him. Now he was going to pay.

"I've made a hospital appointment for you."

This wasn't what Reid had expected. "You what? What on earth for? I'm not ill."

"When did you last eat?"

"This morning." He turned back and started to walk to his bedroom.

"Three grapes doesn't count. I am taking you to hospital before you die on me." The bedroom door slammed. "Tell me Spence." Shouting through the closed door. "Tell me how long you can carry on like this. Give me the statistics. Tell me how long I have left with you until you kill yourself." A pause. "If it's not the eating it's the burning and cutting. You need help."

"Leave m m me alone!" A muffled voice.

-o-o-o-

He stood at the wooden front door and rang the bell. He knew he was there. He could smell him and sense him behind the door. He heard the catch's click and the door opened into a brightly lit hallway. Hotch stood looking at him.

"I told him I don't want to talk to him. I definitely have nothing to say to you. I opened my door to you just so to prevent you kicking it in. I have nothing else to say."

Before Aaron could blink Floyd was pushing him back into the hall and kicking the door closed behind him.

"You might have nothing to say, but I sure as hell do. Nice place you have here. Much more homely than the other house. A whiskey please Aaron." And a smile.

"I didn't invite you in."

"But I'm not a sodding vampire Aaron. I don't need an invite. A drink and a chat. That's all I am asking."

Hotch walked away and into the lounge. He poured a whiskey for Floyd and then sat down.

Floyd sat on a chair opposite him and sipped at the drink. "He could have been dead. Laying in the street out side your house. You wouldn't have known."

"What are you talking about? He was fine when I last saw him."

"And then he fell face first down your steps. The blood is still there is you care to look but you would believe me even if you saw it would you? I trusted you Aaron. I let down my guard and I trusted you and now I am at risk of losing everything and I won't permit that to happen. I have lost my daughter and now I am losing Spencer and though I don't like you and I don't want him near you and I am repulsed by the friendship the two of you have – had – need – he needs you."

"At risk of losing Spencer. That is not likely Floyd. He will never leave you. Not until he dies."

Floyd just sat looking at Hotch. He took another swig of the drink. "He doesn't know I am here. He is sleeping. He sleeps most of the day now because he hasn't the energy to get up and do anything. He hardly ever eats and when he does he brings it right up again. He burns and cuts his skin. He is going to kill himself unless we do something about it."

"He gave up confidential information which could have got me killed and then lied about it. Why should I care?" His face still cold but a give away twitch around his eye told Floyd he was on the right track.

"Firstly because he didn't and secondly because I know you do care and I don't want Spencer dead."

Floyd stood up and Aaron matched him.

"I have never known you give a damn about anyone but yourself. Why the sudden change in heart Floyd. What is really going on?"

"A new leaf. The new caring Flanders. It's not easy but I'm slowly getting there. I need you to talk to Spencer and get this sorted."

"Why a new caring Flanders? What is it you have planned? People don't change for no reason."

"We are not here to talk about me – I need you to at least phone him over the next couple of days and say you will sit down and talk things over – and I am not people. I am me."

Hotch shook his head. "There is a reason. You forget how well I know you."

"I made a pact with my god."

"Your god? Get out Floyd –I really have had enough of your BS."

"I see talking to you is not going to work and I really didn't want to have to beat the shit out of you, but I don't think I have an option do I?"

He was on Hotch before he could move out of the way – a hand grasping the front of his Tshirt with one hand, the other making hard contact which Aaron's kidney's.

"You need a reminder of who the fuck you think you are talking to."

"So do you." Hotch pulled the small gun out of the back of his waist band and pressed it into Floyds chest. "I know this won't kill you, but I know it will hurt. Let go of me and back off before you force me to use it.

"Right now I don't give a fuck." The head butt to Hotch's face was timed with the sound of the gun fire. Floyd backed off a couple of steps and looked down at the stain spreading over his chest. He felt his knees fold under him and dimly saw the bloodied amused look on Hotch's face as he put his hands out to stop his head hitting the floor.

"Fuck that hurts!"

"I expect it did. Now get out. I don't want you in my home I don't want to see you or Spencer. It's over. Done with. He will have to find someone else to hold his hand when things turn sour for him."

Floyd coughed blood onto Hotch's carpet. "You know, I really don't think I can stand. What the hell did you have in that bleeding gun?"

"Something I knew would hurt you. Now get up and get out."

Floyd took one crawling step forwards, blood dripping happily from the hole in his chest and now from his nose and mouth. "Help me up. I can't stand."

Aaron took a step forwards and was rewarded with a hand on the groin – nails digging in and twisting. The gun fell from his hand as he screamed and punched Floyd in the side of the head and tried to back off and get the animal off him, but he harder he hit and the more he moved the harder Floyd gripped. Blood began to soak through the front of Aaron's jeans as he too went down onto his knees.

Now face to face with Floyd.

"Listen to me you wise arsed little fuck. You will contact Spencer. You will resume a friendship of the type you had before. You will be there for him when he needs you. You will not fuck him you will keep your mouth off him - but you will be his emotional support. You will do this or I will return and rip your balls off with my teeth. You understand me Agent Aaron Hotchner?"

"Let – go – of – me." Said with gritted teeth.

"That is not the correct answer. You will do what I ask and you will do it for Spencer because once you two needed each other – and you still do." He twisted his hand again and dug nails in a bit harder. "Just nod your agreement if you are finding words hard to find."

A small nod from Hotch had Floyd back on his feet. "Whatever that was in the gun Aaron – it didn't work. We have a hospital appointment tomorrow. Call in the afternoon."

Another nod.

"Good! See we can talk things through like two sensible adults."

Floyd turned and left the building.

-o-o-o-

Spencer awoke at some point and realised he was alone. Floyd had gone out without him again. More and more often. He said he wanted to date yet kept going off getting his kicks from someone else. It should have hurt, but nothing much did anymore.

He felt sick and he felt headachy and so climbed out of the bed and pulled a sheet around him and walked to the bathroom. He stood for a while looking at his face in the mirror. The dressing above his eye was blood soaked and made the rest of his face look too pale. The darkness around his eyes had increased and he could see quite clearly how ill he looked. He thought about turning on the taps to get rid of the image and rested his hand over the red tap for a while before bringing up his fist and punching the glass.

It smashed into hundreds of bits. Some stuck into the back of his hand and knuckles. Some just stayed where they were and reflected back a distorted image of his sickly face and other bits fell into the washbasin. He stood looking at them for a while before pulling open the cupboard the mirror was attached to. He took out the tub of painkilling pills and slammed the door shut causing more bits of glass to fall into the basin.

To Spencer's confused tired under nourished mind they looked like a message. It meant something. Nothing ever happened without meaning. Every bit of pain was there to remind you of the good times and all the good times are there to remind you of how easily you can lose them again.

Reid picked up a shard and held it and the tub of pills in one hand and then sat on the floor next to the toilet. He felt safe here. This was a good place to be.

He pulled the bed sheet closer around himself and just sat and waited to see if Floyd was going to come home and if he did would he smell of cheap whores and rent boys.

-o-o-o-

Floyd stood in the bathroom door and looked down at Spencer. He was sitting his mind a million miles away with a bit of glass in his hand and the tub of pills. He didn't say anything but walked quietly in and sat down next to him. One hand removed the items from his hand while the other wrapped around his shoulders.

"Babes – this is why we need to see a doctor. Please don't fight me on this."

Spencer looked back at him with big tear filled eyes. "Where – where have you b been?"

"Sorting something out. I will have a surprise for you soon, but it will be no good if you go and kill yourself before it's ready."

Spencer moved so he was kneeling and Floyd mirrored him so they were facing each other. "A surprise? For me?"

"Who else would it be for? Now get up. It's been a long night and I am in need of……….." His voice trailed off as he saw the look of horror cross Reid's face.

"You've been shot!"

"It's nothing."

"What do you mean nothing? You have a hole in your chest!"

"I know. It's ok Spence – It's stopped hurting."

"Who shot you?! Floyd what is this surprise?"

Floyd kissed him quickly on the lips. "This isn't connected with it. I got in the middle of some hold up at the gas station. You don't need to worry. I promise."

"Oh man –this is – I don't know. I wish you would be more careful."

Floyd stood up and helped Spencer to his feet. "You care what happens to me? I am touched. Which reminds me; I am in need of some comforting."

They slept that night in the big four poster. Spencer curled up behind Floyd. His arms wrapped tightly around him – feeling his body pressed against his and the beat of his heart under his hand. Right there…right then the world could have come to an end and Spencer wouldn't have cared – so long as he had Floyd.