Gideon
!!I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!
Disclaimer: Criminal Minds is not mine.
I wept in my dreams.
I dreamed you lay in the grave;
I awoke, and the tears
still poured down my cheeks
Heinrich Heine
Flanders got up from his chair. He was feeling the effects of the alcohol but the pain he was feeling had subsided a bit. He stood in the shadowy room and looked at the walls covered in pictures of Spencer. They went right back to when he was fairly new at the BAU. He looked so young and innocent. With shaking hands he ran a finger over the face of the man he had been stalking for so long. Getting to know him from afar. Taking his orders from his drugged and drunk nightmares.
He pulled the picture off the wall and looked at it closely then slowly ripped it down the middle. "I won't do it. I can't do it." Methodically with shaking hands and a foggy painful head he slowly removed each picture. Hundreds of bits of ripped photographs fell to the floor scattering like confetti at his feet. "I let you do this to him. I don't want to be a part of your plan anymore."
Floyd opened a small door opposite the doors to his balcony and entered what looked to be a small lab. There were cameras hanging on the walls and photographic equipment set up. He took each one carefully in his hands and looked them over and then smashed them to the floor. "No more. I have done enough. You need to let me go. I have played my part in your sick game." He leaned against the far wall in the reddish glow of his dark room and slid slowly to the floor. "I am sorry Spence."
…………………………
Gideon tried Spencer's cell. Straight to answer-phone. "Don't panic. You know that's not him." He muttered to himself and redialled, this time Hotch's number. Again straight to answer-phone. "What the hell is going on?" He stood and looked at the train and then back at his phone. Vaguely he saw a local detective approaching.
"You are the guy who found the body?"
He looked up at the man with a frown. "Yes, yes I am."
"Did you say your name was Jason Gideon?" he man was holding an envelope.
"I did. Is there something wrong? Apart from the obvious?"
The man handed over the envelope. "This was found in the victim's pocket. It has your name on it. We have opened it. Can you tell us what the message means to you?"
Jason took the torn open envelope and looked at the hand writing. Careful printed writing. He took the bit of paper out and looked at it.
'Jason, One must have a thorough understanding of one's dreams if one is not to be troubled by them: Proust'
He opened his phone once more with shaking hands and made one more call
"Oracle of all knowledge, speak.
……………………..
"Please Aaron you have to bring Floyd back here. We need to stay together." Reid was laying back down again pain ripping through his body. "Please."
Hotch stood next to the bed and watched looked down at the face so full of fear and pain. "I will contact him. Make sure he is alright. If there seems to be a problem I will send someone over. You need to rest Spencer."
Aaron held Spencer's pale hand and watched the eyes slowly flutter closed again. He didn't want to leave him. He didn't want to let go of this fragile hand, but slowly he placed it on the covers next to Reid and quietly he walked to the door way. Two armed uniforms stood outside. He left the room and spoke quietly to them. It was orders they already had. "Let nobody in, don't let Reid out." And he walked quickly to find a telephone at the receptionist desk just around the corner.
……………………..
Back in the hole. Back in the dark. This was different. For a little while someone had his hand to stop himself sinking forever into the wet earth. He made soft moaning sounds as he felt the earth being shovelled over his motionless body. He wanted to scream but Jason wouldn't have done that. He wanted to beg, but Jason wouldn't beg. As he felt the cold wetness sucking his head into the thick mud and as he felt the feet stamping down on him and as he felt ribs cracking and water seeping up his nose he heard a voice. 'I am sorry Spence.'
……………………
The black and white pulled up into the drive of the Flanders home. The windows where dark and it looked cold and empty. The two officers got out of the car and walked to the impressive double front entrance doors. They were closed but swung open with a eerie silence. The two uniforms looked at each other and took a step over the threshold.
Something in the shadows watched.
"Flanders?" The taller of the officers called out. There was no echo. The sound just seemed to get sucked away into the recesses of the big old house. "Flanders – Agent Hotchner has asked us to come and check up on you. Are you here?"
The two men started to walk further into the foyer of the house. There was a door directly to the right. They stepped quickly to the door and pushed it open. It was devoid of anything. The walls bare plaster. No light fittings and nothing covering the floor. It was as though the room had never been used. They pulled back and shone torches up the stairs and called out to Floyd again. Still getting no reply. Ahead of them was an opening leading out to a dark corridor and towards two sets of double doors. The officers pointed the flashlights down the corridor and then towards one of the sets of doors which was slightly open. They nodded to each other and walked towards it. The room was vast. It had display cabinets all along the walls and in small islands in the middle of the room. The chair Flanders and been tied to was against the wall. They walked in slowly looking at the strange objects on display.
…………………..
"Garcia. It's Gideon. I need your help."
Garcia sat up straight and put her glasses back on again. "Sir! How are you?"
"Pen there has been a murder on a train in Texas."
Garcia stopped him mid flow. "And it was staged to look like Reid?"
White knuckles on the phone. "There have been more? Is Reid alright?"
"Sir, I think it would be a really good time for you to pay him a visit. He is in hospital, but don't worry, just bruises." She gave him the address and phone number of the hospital.
……………………
He sat in the room right at the top of the house and listened as someone called out his name. They were in his house he could tell. He could almost smell the intrusion. He wanted to call out and tell them to go away and to leave him alone, but he sat in the dark room against the wall and muttered over and over again. "I don't want this anymore. I don't want to do this. I can't do this."
He could hear the screams. Long drawn out wails of fear. Then silence.
Floyd stood up and ran shaking fingers through his hair. "You can't make me do this."
"We had a deal." A sharp hissing dirty voice coming from the shadows.
"No, you forced me into this. I didn't ever want to do this."
"You made a deal."
"I take it back. I don't want this." He indicated the room. "I don't want this life."
"You can't take it back, stupid, you are mine. You are mine until I decide to release you. That won't happen until I have what I want."
Flanders moved to the table in the middle of the room. It was covered in more photographs of Spencer. He ran his fingers slowly over the young looking face. "Why can't you do your own dirty work?"
"Do you think I haven't tried? No; I need you, I need to see the pain of realising the betrayal on his face."
"I can't do it."
The voice now in Floyd's ear. "Have you forgotten what you were before I rescued you? Have you forgotten all I have done for you?"
A slow shake of the head.
"Then go to him now, whilst you still can and finish what you have started. The boy is asking for you. Go and protect him Floyd. Go and finish this."
………………………….
Reid looked up in his dream and the face of Pepe changed. It slowly altered and warped until it was Flanders standing in the grave with him. He was crying and talking to him in a whispered sad voice. 'I am so sorry Spence.'
…………………………
I wept in my dreams,
I dreamed you were still kind to me;
I awoke, and still
the flow of my tears streams on.
Heinrich Heine
!!I support the 2007 WGA STRIKE!!