Twist

We should meet abuse by forbearance. Human nature is so constituted that if we take absolutely no notice of anger or abuse, the person indulging in it will soon weary of it and stop: - Mohandas Gandhi

Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.

Reid rolled himself over onto his side. Any part of his body that hadn't hurt before did now. Usually when he was feeling this bad there would be someone to hold him and make it go away. Sometimes that person was the one who had done the damage in the first place. Other times it was Aaron. Now those things were gone. Gideon was gone. His father long gone and his mother may as well be gone. He had nothing. Slowly he rolled off his bed and walked to the bath room. He turned on the hot tap and watched the steam slowly cover the mirror.

Spencer took a pot of painkillers from the shelf and shook a hand full into his palm then looked back to the mirror. He lifted a shaking finger to the glass and wrote HELP.

He leaned against the cold bathroom wall tiles and looked down at what he had in his hand.

……………………..

Floyd stepped into Aaron's house, dropped his bag onto the hall floor and kicked the door shut behind him.

"Spencer threw you out? And you accepted it?" Hotch was stepping away from Floyd."

A shrug. "We need a break from each other and I wasn't going to let him come here, not to you."

Hotch had backed up against the wall. He wasn't sure quite what was going on, but the thumping of the heart and the twisting in his stomach felt wrong and oh so good at the same time. "He shouldn't be left on his own Floyd. He's not well."

Floyd was in front of Aaron before he could blink. Again a hand sliding up inside the hoody he had on the other hand wrapped around the back of Hotch's head holding him in place and pulling him closer.

Aaron started to say something, but Floyd's mouth grinding hard against his lips stopped him from saying anything more than a whimper. Lips on lips – tongues touching tongues and hands moving into new positions – with a moan the two slowly slid to the floor. All the time screaming the back of Hotch's mind 'Stop – this is wrong.'

Floyd moved Aaron so he could hold and touch him and as the shaft of light from the moon hit Floyd across the face Hotch saw it. He pushed Floyd away from him roughly and placed his hands on his shoulders to stop him getting closer and to see if what he had seen was real.

"What in hells name have you done?" Hotch now looked at Floyd's hands. "Please tell me that isn't blood."

"It isn't blood." And Floyd was trying to push Aaron's hands off him so he could get closer.

Again Hotch pushed Floyd back. This time a hand under his chin pushing his head back. Unlike Spencer, Hotch was quite able to fight off an assailant. "I know blood when I see it Flanders, what have you done?"

Floyd backed off and knelt on the floor in front of Aaron. "Why is I always me? Why do you assume it is me?"

Aaron sat and stared at the blood splattered man in front of him. "Because generally it is you. Whose blood is that?"

"I split my knuckles – it's nothing." He started to move towards Aaron again.

"Split them on what? You don't get blood splatter on your face from split knuckles. Please tell me that's not Spencer's blood."

A sigh. "It's not Spencer's blood." He ran a hand up Aaron's leg.

"Then – whose – stop it – whose – b blood? Whose b blood is it?" Aaron realised with horror that he stuttered his question out the same way Reid would. It was pure fear of what Floyd may have done as he pushed Floyd's hand off him again.

"Does it matter?" Still moving forwards. This bloke was a struggle to catch and now it felt like he was slipping off the hook again.

"Yes it matters! What have you d done?!"

"When I left the two of you were in the bedroom together – why did he throw you out? What did you do?"

"Nothing ! Well something – yes – ok something – but he'll get over it." A smirk.

Aaron was confused. When he left the two of them had been getting cosy in the bedroom – in the dark – in silence. "Something?"

"OK – I gagged him, beat the shit out of him and then tied him to the bed to stop him running back to your for his fucking post beating cuddle."

Hotch stood up and looked at the man still kneeling on the floor in front of him. "I really hope that is another of your lies."

Floyd got to his feet trying to think what to do next. "You seem to be able to tell when I am telling the truth, so tell me. Did I or didn't I?" Moving in for the kill again but his prey escaped once more. 'Bloody hell this man is a struggle.'

He watched with a pissed off feeling building inside him as Hotch walked quickly into the lounge and picked up the phone. He saw him hit speed dial and stand holding the receiver to his ear. 'Sorry we are not able to come to the phone right now. Please leave a message after the tone.' And a beep. "Reid pick up. I need to know you are alright." Eyes making contact with Floyd. "Reid please pick up." A click as the phone cut off.

"He's probably in the tub." Floyd was making his way over towards Aaron again watching as Hotch got a dial tone again and hit another speed dial. It rang four times before someone picked up.

"Morgan, It's Hotch. I need you to go over to Reid's place and check he is ok."

"I thought you were on a great outdoors adventure. You are home early. Did something happen?"

"Please Morgan, just go and check up on him. Break in if you have to."

"I'm on my way." And the line went dead.

"I told you he is fine. Why do you have to bloody check up on what I say? What is it about you? Why do you always think you are in the right and me wrong?"

Hotch could feel the spite in Floyd's voice now and took a step back away from him. His gun was securely locked away, well the one which Floyd hadn't done a disappearing act on in the forest. "You can't bully me like you did Spencer. So forget it Floyd. Back off away from me."

"I'm not bullying you." He picked up Hotch's phone and hurled it at the fireplace. "I am showing you what happens when you cross me." Another step and he was so close their noses almost touching. Hands on Hotch's shoulders eyes locked and a knee in the groin. As Hotch let out an involuntary gasp and bent forwards he got a knee to his face.

…………………………

Morgan tried the entry phone and got no reply. The elevator was at parking level and the door pulled closed. On further inspection though he realised it wasn't locked. He pulled open the door and stepped in. He didn't like intruding in Reid's private life – especially now he seemed to be with that maniac all the time. There was a flashing red button. Morgan pressed it and the car slowly clanked its way up.

Cautiously and not knowing what to expect Morgan slowly pulled the door to the apartment open. It was in total silence. He could smell bleach. "Reid buddy, are you here?"

Silence.

A quick glance told him he wasn't in the lounge or kitchen. The bedroom door was open. He walked quickly to see if Reid was there. The door had been broken open. The lock was ripped out of its housing but the room was empty. Well empty of Reid. The other thing in there which caused the hair to stand up on the back of Morgan's neck would wait.

The bathroom door was closed. He knocked gently. "Reid are you in there? Answer me man, or I will kick my way in." Still silence. An alarming silence. "OK – keep away from the door, I am coming in." He shouldered the door and it popped open easily. Reid was curled up in the corner of the bathroom looking at his hands. "Reid?"

Morgan quickly made his way to him kneeling down to get a better look. He was covered in black and yellowing bruises. Derek put a hand to the side of his face and gently lifted his head so he could see him. "Shit man, did Flanders do this to you?" Morgan looked at the battered face, the split lip, the bloodied nose, the cuts across his eyebrows where he had been punched more than once in the face. The skin was split along one cheekbone. There was blood encrusted in his hair and down the side of his neck. "Was this Flanders?" Though Morgan knew the answer.

A small shake of the head.

Wasn't the answer he had expected. He looked down at the hands Reid had been looking at. One open palm up the other closed in a fist. "What have you got there?" Carefully trying not to hurt Reid more than he already was he prised his hand open. It held quite a few small white pills. He looked back up at Reid who was looking back at him, tears now running down his face making clear tracks through the blood. "This isn't the answer Reid." Morgan wanted to be cross. How could someone batter another down so much they would rather be dead than fight it? Why would someone do that? He took the pills from Reid's hand and threw them down the toilet. "Let me help you back to your bed." Then he remembered the blood had seen in there.

He pulled out his cell to call Hotch and felt a hand over his. "D d don't c call H hotch."

"He is worried about you. He called me and asked me to come and check up on you. He's gonna want to know y'a ok."

"F f floyd. P please c call F floyd."

……………………….

Floyd stood in Aaron's kitchen watching the coffee machine heat up and smoking something vile. There was fresh blood on his hands and a victorious smirk on his face. His cell rang. The smirk spread to encompass his whole being as he flipped it open.

"Flanders – what do you want."

A pause.

"I I'm s s sorry."

……………………………

If you were going to die soon and had only one phone call you could make, who would you call and what would you say: - Stephen Levine

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