itle: Losing My Religion by Lexikal (Chapter Twenty One)
Rating: M for graphic violence against a child and language (in the first chapter, chapter 8 and chapter 10 so far)
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Summary: After two years away from his father and his father's violent rages, Spencer Reid, now ten, is returned home. Spencer has changed... but has William Reid?
Author's Note: I know you guys have been waiting for this, so here it is. Life has been busy, busy, busy and when it gets busier than normal my fan fic doesn't get updated but that last chapter was too much of a cliff hanger and I do want to finish this story and get to the others. We are about 2/3rds through this story (after the end of this chapter), for those who want to know how much longer this beasty is.
Chapter Note: My keyboard occasionally sticks. I will quickly edit for typos, etc, but there may still be some. Taking some liberties with this upcoming dental surgery scene and from what I remember from various minor surgeries. I did some VERY limited research on the topic but couldn't find anything pertaining to paediatric dental implant surgery taking place in 1990 so I will not be using the names of specific drugs, etc. In most cases GA (General Anaesthesia) is not used, even if dental implant surgery but it may be used in extreme cases where the surgery is significantly invasive or if the patient is sufficiently anxious. I believe Reid's case would qualify on both counts, and again, this is fan fic so if something is medically off please take that into consideration.
The elevator dinged and Gideon pushed his young charge into the waiting room. He kept talking because Reid was so quiet and drugged and now, his own anxiety was coming into play. So much of human communication had nothing to do with the actual words spoken.
"We're here, buddy."
"Yeah..." He did sound a bit like a Zombie. Gideon put the brakes on his chair after wheeling him into the waiting room and approached the receptionist. She looked up and smiled brightly.
"Jason Gideon. I am here with Spencer Reid for a 9:00 procedure?" He sounded overly formal even to his own ears.
The receptionist hammered on the keyboard and nodded.
"I will phone and let the doctor know you have arrived."
"Thank you."
Gideon wandered back to Reid and sat down in a chair next to him. Reid was blinking heavily and staring around with huge, dilated eyes.
"What if I don't wake up?" The boy finally slurred, and Gideon could see that genius little brain struggling to worry even through the sedatives and pain meds.
"Reid, you'll be fine..."
"General Anaesthesia is controlled poisoning. Every year..."
"Buddy, you will be fine. Trust me." The last thing Reid needed to be doing right now was freaking himself out reciting scary surgery statistics.
"They'll put a tube down my throat?"
"Yes... remember we talked about this? You'll be asleep."
"Not 'sleep. Unconscious. Unresponsive... controlled...poisoned." He was scared but thank god for ativan, or Gideon was damned sure Reid would be completely freaking out right now.
"I'll be there with you and then when you wake up we'll go home. Maybe we can phone David and you can tell him all about your surgery. I am sure he'll be interested..."
"I don't think Rossi has any...interest... in dental procedures." Reid's voice was very, very soft and slurred. "Unless it relates to a case somehow. And sometimes dental impressions are all that is left of a person so he is perhaps interested in...dental impressions... of promise...you'll stay in...?"
"I promise I will be with you the entire time." Gideon said firmly.
"This place smells weird."
Gideon smiled a little to himself. There was a television on in the corner, mounted to the wall, blaring cartoons. The wall itself was covered with a mural of smiling, slightly insane looking teeth holding tooth brushes. Gideon wondered what sort of child that mural would actually reassure. Obviously, the adult dental professionals running the place had designed it, but what did it say, then, about their state of mind?
Gideon rubbed at his eyes. The smiling canine tooth looked mildly intimidating. He knew he was stressed when cartoons of dancing cuspids began to freak him out.
"Spencer Reid?" A nurse was standing in the open doorway that led to the surgery room, holding a clip board that contained, presumably, Reid's basic information. Gideon nodded and stood, gently wheeling a very dazed Reid in her direction.
"That's us..." Gideon said, smiling brightly, unintentionally mirroring the tone and demeanour of the woman.
"Maybe we... Gideon... maybe we could go home now instead and..." The kid was fidgeting a bit in his chair. His hands and fingers were plucking at the material of his shirt like small animals trying to start a burrow. Reality was starting to get past the drug.
"So you are Spencer?" The nurse interjected, leading them down the hall apparently oblivious to the boy's anxiety.
"Gid-yun? I don't really need to have them...all...replaced...not worried 'bout cos...cosmetic... about... aesthetics... about... I'm...not..."
"I hear you're a really brave boy," the nurse said, glancing at Gideon. Gideon nodded back at her, gently resting one hand on Reid's shoulder. Not as tense as yesterday but still plenty tense.
Then they were in the room and Gideon was helping the nurse lift Reid into the chair and trying to shut Reid's warbled but insistent protests out of his mind.
"Wait...wait!" Reid sounded slightly more alert now. Or was becoming more aware of where he was.
"I'll be back in a moment with the doctor..." the nurse said brightly, bending down to look in the kid's eyes.
"But...I think...I...I...let's just go home. Gid-yun? I think...maybe..."
She excited quickly then, still wearing that oversized grin that was probably meant to put small children at ease. Too bad Spencer Reid wasn't a typical child. Or that humans were hominids that viewed excessive flashing of the teeth as a threat display.
"Reid, buddy, shhh." Gideon grabbed a small stool and sat on it, scooting around to see Reid.
"Look at me, pal."
Reid had gone very pale in the last thirty seconds. Oh yeah. The ativan had definitely been a necessity. Necessary but not strong enough to block out the kid's growing fear.
"Doan...let's go home..." The boy's huge, chestnut eyes were getting glassy with tears.
Shit.
Gideon gently picked up one of Reid's hands and held it. It was cool and clammy and felt tiny compared to his. Reid also had extremely long fingers, the fingers of a natural pianist, and right now those long, graceful fingers were attempting to crush the life out of Jason Gideon's wrists.
"This won't take long buddy, and I will be here the whole time..."
"I want...to...I want to go back to your house...now...Gid-yun..."
Fuck. Fuck. Tears were running down his cheeks now and he was breathing a bit faster. Damn it.
And then the nurse was back and George Jane was with her, eyeing the scene from behind his thick glasses with an expression of bemusement Gideon had come to expect from the older man.
"Spencer... good morning... how are you doing?" Jane's voice was soft and gentle and steady and should have put Reid at ease but instead Reid's voice cracked and went up an octave.
"Gid-yun said...just said...I could go home and...not get anything done today..." Reid choked out. He was hiccupping now too. The dental surgeon glanced over at Gideon and Gideon shook his head sadly to indicate that Reid was not exactly being truthful.
"This is Maria", George Jane said instead, motioning to the nurse that had first led them in. "She is going to get you set up so we can get this over and done with fast, okay?"
"I...Gid-yun...I...change my mind."
"It's okay to be frightened Spencer," the nurse said brightly, approaching the boy. There was already a small little cart ready that Gideon hadn't seen immediately, needles and swabs and an elastic tie and other stuff laid out ceremoniously.
"Gid-yun...please!"
"It's okay, pal. Just look at me. This part will be fast." Gideon said earnestly, trying not to feel like the world's biggest heel.
"Yeah, really fast. And your dad will stay with you the entire time," Maria-the-nurse quipped. She had a small pulse oximeter in her hand and quickly snapped it on to one of Reid's small fingers. Reid's head jerked to the side where he could now see his heart rate and blood pressure displayed on a small screen.
"Gid-yun..." It was a plaintive whine, depressingly hopeless.
"That's just to measure your pulse..." Gideon began but Reid screwed his eyes shut in protest. No doubt the kid knew better than any adult in the room what every instrument and device in the place was for.
"We're just going to put this on you, okay, Spencer?"
It was a surgical gown large enough to slip over Reid's regular clothes. Made sense, Gideon thought darkly. There was bound to be blood. Couldn't cut away gum tissue and drill into a child's jaw bone without some blood...
"Now we just pull your arms through..." the nurse began to gently tug at one of Reid's thin, wiry arms. Gideon helped with the arm closest to him. Reid was fidgeting a lot more now, despite the cast and looked utterly helpless and small. The necessity and reason for this "procedure" once again hit Jason Gideon square in the gut. Damn, he wanted to kill William Reid. Slowly.
Reid shut his eyes again. The chair had arm rests, and his tiny fingers were gripped into the fake leather as if they wanted to rip holes.
The nurse then swabbed Reid's right hand with an alcohol swab and the kid let out a small, mewling noise of fear.
"Buddy, I am right here."
"You're just going to feel a little prick, Spencer..."
Gideon turned as the I.V. was inserted and taped in place. Reid jerked a bit. His lips were pressed together tightly; two thin, bloodless lines.
Gideon had been so focused on Reid he hadn't noticed two others enter the room. Of course there would be more. Reid was a child and he was being put under so...yeah. Gideon turned back to Reid who was breathing faster now.
"We ready?" Somebody said above Reid, but Gideon was not concerned with them. A mask was placed over the boy's face and Reid's eyes shot open in fear. Panic swam freely in those intelligent, young eyes. It was disturbing to see.
"Just count for me, Spencer," the surgeon- George Jane- said calmly. "Back from 100 by threes? Okay?"
Eyes wild, Reid nodded jerkily. Gideon watched his face, trying to make eye contact, but his eyes were flickering around everywhere. Then he began to blink more quickly, eyelids fluttering shut. Until they stayed shut.
"Agent Gideon, you can sit here." The surgeon said, not unkindly, guiding Gideon to a small chair in the corner of the room.
They were moving around Spencer, tilting his head back, inserting a breathing tube. Gideon shut his eyes and wished he could wait in the waiting room. A promise was a promise.
Reid blinked slowly, rubbed his eyes. He felt fuzzy and far away. Blinked again and licked his lips. His mouth felt numb and puffy and tasted gross. Dead flesh and blood and a chemical taste that was grosser than anything organic.
"Hey." The voice was warm and familiar and entered his awareness thickly, like honey. He blinked again and saw Gideon's face come into focus.
He was lying on something that couldn't really be defined- it wasn't really a bed, but wasn't a chair either. Sort of a reclining chair with arm rests, made of leather. The lights were dim.
Then he remembered... he'd been at the dentist's...no...the dental surgeon's. They'd put in his new "teeth" and...
"Over?" Reid said thickly. Talking was weird.
"Yeah. Your mouth is numb, so maybe not much talking?" Gideon said, not unkindly. It seemed like common sense to say but Spencer Reid was not known for his common sense.
Reid shut his eyes and nodded. He felt drained and tired and a bit shaky.
"Feel chilly." He said finally and moved his arm. His dinosaur was wedged under his arm and he lifted it to his face, smelled it. It already smelled like Gideon's house already, a unique aroma that was impossible to define through words but a good, clean smell all the same that was comforting. If he had to describe it, it smelled like eggs and popcorn and fabric softener.
"Yeah?" Gideon inquired with concern. "Want me to go ask if they have a blanket or something?" His foster father put a large, warm hand on the boy's hands and noticed that they were still a bit chilly, but not as cold as earlier. Fear, and shock, most likely... but after surgery any complaint had to be taken seriously.
"I am going to go get you a blanket. I'll be right back, okay?"
Reid wanted to protest but he was drained. And it was over. He nodded his head mutely.
"Reid is awake," Gideon announced, approaching the front desk. He'd been slowly gaining more awareness for about 15 minutes but it was nice to have his boy back and talking.
"Okay. I'll ask his doctor to come take a look at him."
"Okay. He says he is cold."
The receptionist nodded in acknowledgement and picked up the phone, relayed the information.
George Jane had changed out of his "scrubs" and was wearing his usual lab coat. He nodded in greeting when he saw the agent and followed him to the little "recovery" room.
"Hello... Spencer?" The surgeon's voice was his usual gentle, calm susurrus. Reid opened his eyes and blinked again.
"Feel cold," Reid said and shivered a bit in demonstration.
"He's probably a little shocky." The doctor told Gideon and approached Reid. Felt his wrist for his pulse, nodded to himself. Asked Reid a few basic questions which Reid seemed to answer appropriately.
"I can get someone to bring him in a blanket." George Jane finally said, after apparently reassuring himself that his patient was physically fine.
"When can I go home?" Reid piped up, his tongue working around the inside of his mouth like a curious mouse in a maze. Gideon wasn't surprised. Judging from the amount of cutting and stitching and all the suctioning for blood and tissue, the inside of Reid's mouth was probably a jungle gym of sutures. Too bad you couldn't put cones around tongues.
"Um... fifteen minutes or so?" George Jane glanced over at Gideon, as if seeking his approval. The man was well aware of just how much the boy in front of him despised being in the clinic.
"I feel okay now..." Reid said, a bit more loudly, a bit more clearly.
"Thought you were chilly," Gideon said, returning to his side, brushing one hand paternally over the small, fuzzy cheek. Reid's cheek was warm and would probably become hot. Already his face looked swollen, like he was developing the mumps. Gideon had been told that with dental surgery like this, swelling was very likely.
They'd shot the kid full of local anaesthetic and that would last for a few hours, but he'd still be in "some discomfort"- an obvious metaphor for extreme pain. The pain meds he already had for his other injuries would have to be enough though; anymore was getting too risky.
"After surgery we like to monitor patients for a while," the surgeon said, directing his comment at Reid.
"To make sure there are...to make sure the anaesthesia is wearing off properly and there are no complications and..." Reid licked his lips tiredly, apparently at a loss for words.
"That's right," the doctor said in approval, aware of Reid's intelligence. "Exactly right. I'll get someone to get you a blanket, okay?"
"Yeah."
The door edged shut and Gideon resumed his place sitting near Reid. His wheel chair was sitting, ready to go.
The walls had framed images of sail boats and various fish in pastel blues and greens hanging on them. It was a phenomenon Gideon had observed before; medical offices of all sorts seemed to think that boats, water, fish and on occasion, islands, were the perfect mental images to soothe the anxieties of the sick and injured.
As if reading his mind, Reid piped up: "I wonder how the fish feel." He had followed his foster father's visual trek around the room and was now smiling slightly, as if sharing a private joke.
Gideon smirked and nodded. "Yeah. Whenever I am stressed David suggests we go fishing or hunting. I always thought of that as displacing my stress onto somebody else..."
Reid laughed at that, really grinning, before making a face.
"What is it, kiddo?"
"Uck. Taste blood."
"Yeah. You have a lot of stitches and there will be some residual...blood. Not a lot of blood, I hope?"
The kid shook his head dismissively. "I just hate the taste of blood though."
That made perfect sense. Gideon nodded understandingly. Someone knocked on the door then and before either of them could respond the door opened slightly.
"I hear somebody is cold?" A young woman said cheerily. She was holding a yellow blanket patterned with what looked like teddy bears. Reid looked at his foster father and raised his eyebrows in an expression Gideon usually only saw on the faces of his colleagues when they were dealing with disturbed-albeit slightly comical- suspects. Probably the use of the word "somebody" in place of "Spencer". Gideon nodded and schooled his face into appropriate concern and rose to take the blanket.
"Yes. Thank you."
"How are we feeling?" The young woman said in the same syrupy tone. Reid turned his head out of view and into one hand and Gideon suspected that he was trying not to laugh. Right now the boy was a bundle of nerves and pent-up anxious energy and Gideon could read the signs. He had personal experience with the inappropriate giggles while on terrifically horrific cases and once you got going it could be a real chore to try and stop. Laughter, the agent reminded himself silently, was a close cousin of crying and often used in lieu of tears to express similar stress.
Right now the kid was stressed to the point of finding even the most pedestrian comments hilarious, but things could and would get awkward fast.
"I think he is feeling much better." Gideon said for Reid, and was rewarded with a choked noise that was obviously the beginning of hysterical laughter. The woman glanced at Jason Gideon with a totally confused look on her face.
"We were...we were just discussing his pet rats and how one got free this morning." Gideon lied, straight-faced, earning himself another, slightly louder, muffled bark of laughter from the ten-year-old.
"Okay. Well, here is his blanket. Hope the little guy feels better soon." The woman said in the same spunky tone of voice and handed the warmed blanket to Gideon. He nodded silently and the door closed.
Reid squealed laughter and came up for air, eyes slightly glassy.
"Reid? We can't be laughing at people..."
Reid wiped at his eyes. "Did you hear her? Jesus. It was like I was her pet yorkie or something." More laughter, louder this time.
"Reid..." Gideon said, smiling despite himself. The boy had a point. Gideon handed the kid the blanket and Reid began to laugh again as he eyed the patterned teddy-bears. "This place..." Reid began, shaking his head in amusement.
Gone was the earlier, overwhelming anxiety and clingy fear. Now that Reid knew they would not be touching him or dealing with him or doing anything to him, his usual, almost-cocky precocity had returned, amplified by relief and endorphins.
"The blanket is kind of funny, huh?" Gideon smiled down at his young charge, not bothering to inform Reid that as far as anyone over 20 was concerned, there wasn't much difference between a blanket covered in teddy bears and one covered with images of the planets and stars.
Spencer Reid barked laughter and nodded, his eyes drifting closed.
"Remember...we only have to stay...for fifteen minutes."
Gideon nodded and began to ask Reid what they should do tonight, what he might want to eat. He spoke for about two minutes before realizing that Reid had fallen asleep.
Reid roused slightly when he moved him to his chair and then wheeled him to the car. He licked his lips and sighed when Gideon gently placed him in the back seat and buckled him in.
"Home?"
"Yeah."
He slept the entire way home, not even rousing when Gideon pulled into a McDonald's drive through and ordered himself a coffee and Big Mac. Gideon pulled his car into the parking lot and ate the Big Mac quickly.
What a long, draining day this had been. Over now, Thank God. Now there was just a 'standard" medical check up, the removal of the cast, at least one appointment with a child shrink and Gideon was starting to suspect, an ophthalmologist visit. Reid spent a lot of the time squinting, especially when reading.
But today, and for the next few days at least, they were home free. The agent sighed and started in on his coffee.
Spencer slept through the drive home and even being carried into the house. Gideon rested him on the couch and covered him with a blanket before returning to the car to retrieve the boy's wheelchair. Spencer's face was already beginning to swell and Gideon hoped the kid would wake up on his own soon so he could have some fluids and take his pain pills and maybe some aspirin. His cheeks were hot to the touch and a bright pink.
The kid looked like he had the mumps.
Gideon returned with the wheelchair and unfolded it next to the couch, then put the brakes on. He used the washroom and put on the kettle for a pot of coffee and returned to the kid's side. Watched him sleep, the long eyelashes jet black against skin that was pale except for the uncharacteristically red and swollen cheeks. Small, distinguished nose. Hair that was starting to look like chestnut coloured peach fuzz but in Gideon's memory fell in waves slightly below the boy's chin. Large, puffy lips. The features of a sleeping little child. How anyone could intentionally harm such a small, innocent child was something Jason Gideon would never understand. He might be able to parrot back theories and even predict future behaviour based on past behaviour. He did all the time for his job. But he still never really *got* it, not in his gut, not really. All the hypothesises in the world couldn't ever really explain evil.
And he had no doubt William Reid was an evil man. Not sick. Not in need of "help". Evil. Evil was a word Jason Gideon didn't use lightly or often, and perhaps (and if he was being honest with himself almost certainly) he felt so strongly about this particularly case because he knew Spencer Reid. Loved him like a son.
With the victims in the crimes he profiled- they were almost always bodies when he got to them anyway- he didn't know them. He had no real emotional connection to either the Unsub or the victims, nothing deeper than the universal compassion most sane people felt for any human simply because they are human.
But he knew Spencer. He loved the boy. Was that all that separated him from viewing someone as evil? Knowing and loving their victim? If that was the case he wasn't nearly as objective as he had once believed himself to be.
Gideon sighed and leaned over, gently kissed the kid on the forehead and pulled the phone out of the cradle. Maybe David was home.
End of Chapter Twenty One. This was supposed to be done days ago. Will try *harder* to get these out in a more timely manner. If you liked this chapter, please review. If you hated it, please review. If you were indifferent, please review. Thanks. Lexikal