Chapter Twenty-five

Day 15

He told them

He had to tell them. There was at least one Unsub still out there. There were bodies that needed to be identified. Every profile built on the knowledge of the department, made finding the next one that much easier, saved lives in the future. After all the times they had insisted that victims who had been through so much worse tell every detail who was he, Spencer Reid, to demand special treatment.

But even telling the bare facts was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.

He couldn't even look at them. He knew their eyes would be filled with nothing but compassion and kindness, that even though it had to go into the file that it wouldn't be discussed, that the details they knew had to be in the spaces in his recounting would never be spoken aloud, he still couldn't explain it all to their faces. By then he was pacing, too embarrassed to sit, so he ended up telling the window, and the view of the busy street outside. It was the only way he could get through this. And he didn't even tell them what he and Clara had in common, it wasn't germane to the case and it would have made this impossible.

When he was done the silence was broken only by the scratch of Dave's pencil on paper as he finished his notes. "Did he do the same to Clara the next day?" Was all he asked.

"Yes." Spencer replied. "Or so she told me. She didn't go downstairs voluntarily, but we blacked out again, at least I blacked out again. I was going to try to fight him but..."

"One of those ports was loaded with Propofol." Alex said. "He could sedate you for twenty minutes at a time from a remote location in the house. If an Unsub drugs you you can't do anything."

"I know." Let's add in this being the second time that happened. At least he wasn't walking away with an addiction this time.

"What happened next?" Dave asked.

"The Unsub left while I was still trying to help Clara recover. We heard the boat. We didn't make contact with him again until this afternoon. I made up a decoy so he would think I was still upstairs and ambushed him in the storeroom." Now that they had moved on he could turn back, look at them again. "When I saw that it was David Barnes I realized why it took so long. I only ever really discussed that with Emily."

"That and you keep everything hard copy." Dave said. "Do you have any idea how much paper is in your apartment?"

Spencer sagged. "With everyone and now Clara pushing me to get a tablet I think I probably will."

"Remind me to buy her flowers as a thank you."

"She said she likes carnations."

"And nothing happened in the second week?"

"Nothing germane to the case."

He was filling his water, so he never saw Dave give Alex one of those looks. "All right," Dave said. "I'll go tell Hotch we're done. Just so you know, part of this will go straight in the file."

Something Spencer was utterly grateful for. "Thank you."

"Uh huh." Dave stood up and gathered his papers. "You did well, Agent Reid. I don't think many could have done better."

Now that was just flattering. Spencer could feel his ears starting to burn. "Thank you."

After the door closed Alex smiled. "Nothing else happened in the second week." She said.

"Nothing germane to the case," Spencer repeated.

"Yeah, but something happened. And you are not the only one who can read body language; you are just bursting to talk about it. So off the record, and I will never tell Morgan or JJ, what happened?"

He did want to tell someone. Yes, what happened was horrible, but all wrapped up around it was the most amazing thing. But in order to tell her he'd have to explain...but it was Alex, someone who was almost a surrogate mother, who had been for years. If he could trust anyone... "I never told you about this problem..."

Day 07

When it was over he staggered up the stairs, crashing through the door and landing hard, shocked at the sudden brightness of the light. True to her word Clara was sitting there, waiting for him. Now she dropped her knitting and ran to him. "Don't!" He managed to get out, stopping her before she touched him.

"Spencer..."

Oh, there was such sweetness in her voice, so much love and concern. "I don't want you to get sick." He said, even as another round of shaking came over him. "I won't risk him punishing you."

"I don't care anymore." But she eased away, pulled the blanket off the rocker, and draped it over him. He pulled it around his shoulders as he sat up to look at her.

"I do." Given what happened he would not risk pissing off the Unsub with her in that position.

"What happened?" She asked as she passed him one of the insulated mugs they had found in the cupboard.

She'd made chicken soup, broth really. He sipped it greedily as he told her, the hot salt anchoring him back to reality. As he told her, her eyes got wider and wider. "But I'm all right."

"No you're not!"

"Okay, I'm a little sore." Maybe a lot sore. "But I'm not injured."

"Spencer. Look who you're talking to." She was quiet a long moment. "Have you ever done anything like that before?" She was flushing bright pink but she took a deep breath and carried on. "Been wi...you know what I mean."

"No." Not something he spoke of easily, but now it was important. This was starting to make sense. "Can't say I never found the right girl but she didn't want to risk it with me." Now he had to ask the question he was dreading. "You?"

"No." His heart sank. "I didn't want to risk it either."

Damn it, damn it, damn it! "I think this is the point where I'm suppose to say there's still time. Unfortunately at the moment I don't think I'm capable." If it hadn't been for the drugs they were giving him he likely would not have made it past the third round, even at his age. "I'm sorry. I would if I could though." Because she deserved it, damn it. And because he knew she would never hurt him, she would never leave.

He trusted her with that.

She looked at him for a long moment. When she spoke it was so quietly he could barely hear it above the sea. "You know, I've had to counsel kids through this kind of thing. I always tell them it's not about your body; it's about trust, trusting another with all you are. And no one can take that, it can only be given." She met his eyes and smiled. "I trust you Spencer. I'd accept."

Oh. Just like that one of the more horrific days of his life turned into one of the most magical. "We are going to get out of this." He said.

"And then you're coming back to my place." She finished. "You look like you have a crash on the way, love. You are shaking like a leaf."

"I know." He was shaking hard, was trying to keep the broth down if he could, was exhausted already but he knew he'd never find sleep. He could feel the blackness coming, this giant, cold pit that would swallow his soul. "I haven't felt my blood level this high before. He couldn't have found a better way to do it." And the higher you went the harder you fell when you inevitably fell.

"Think you can keep soup down?"

"Unfortunately no. Might try some cereal." He knew he hadn't eaten all day, he had to. Then he wanted a hot bath and his bed before he started crying and couldn't stop. At least he could have that comfort.

"I'll make a tray; we'll go upstairs and lock ourselves in again. Deal with tomorrow tomorrow." She almost reached a hand out for him as she got up but stopped. "Come on."

He got up and followed her. They made up a tray, collected what they needed, went up to their room and locked the door. He had his hot shower, managed the cereal, talked about nothing of consequence. But when they lay down he somehow found the darkness of sleep coming over him once more and he was grateful.

When he woke the door was open and she was gone.