37

Floyd was pacing.

Staff where giving him a wide berth.

He was smoking, and the shaking white faced woman sitting behind the reception desk didn't look as though she was going to tell him to stop (again).

Spencer walked over to Floyd and gave him a hug, then gestured behind himself. 'Hotch is here. What news on Sam?'

Floyd sighed and gave Spencer a quick kiss on his ear. 'They've taken him away to surgery to remove that fucking thing on his face. They tried to tell me that shaking him by it caused the fucking problem.'

Spencer nodded. 'Well I doubt it helped, but he's going to be OK?'

'I'm a surgeon now? I know how it's going to turn out? He had a face full of fucking puss. They are going to drain him. Asked for a jar of whatever they remove but I don't think that's going to happen. He'll be fine. What does Hotchner want? A quicky behind the bike sheds?'

'He's here to see if Sam is going to be all right.'

Floyd looked over Spencer's shoulder and gave Hotch a dirty look. 'You crossed the line Agent Aaron Hotchner. I'm not going to threaten you because you'll use that as an excuse to arrest me for some fucking reason and lock me away again, but you're a dead man walking. Just sayin'. Oh and if you think the idle threat of prison will upset me, then again you'll be wrong.' Floyd then turned his attention back to Spencer. 'I should have brought Sam in sooner. I'm going to have to perform some pretty drastic measures if he recovers from this not looking like the perfect little angel he's meant to.' He blew smoke into Spencer's face. 'I know he deserves to be in pain and maybe crippled or something, but not his fucking face. That's a crime beyond all measure.' A pause this time as Floyd gave Spencer's face a close inspection. 'Shit babes… if you're not the most gorgeous thing this side of Pluto.' Again he looked over at Hotch. 'Don't you agree Aaron? Isn't Spencer just spectacular? No, no Hotch, you can answer without looking again. Keep your distance old man and don't touch, but this hair… you see I might not have mentioned it to you Spence, but I really don't like it all short and neat and fucking nerdy. You let yourself down so many times.' Again a look at Hotch. 'Private conversation bitch… go get the coffee or empty bins or something useful.' Then back to Spencer again. 'You need to be free babes. Live free. Dress how you damned well want to… you like cords? Then babes you damned well wear them! Just never take Sam's advice on how to dress cos the boy has no clue. I caught him in a bra once. Purple with tissue stuffed inside. So no… dress how you want or you're going to end up in polo shirts and light blue jeans with sneakers… and a nice little bald patch on the back of your head and though I'll still want you more than… well more than something I want a lot, I don't want you turning into some pinched up old fart like Hotchner.'

'He's OK.' Spencer foolishly replied. He didn't like hearing Floyd speak like that about Hotch. 'What I mean is Hotch is how he is comfortable being. But you're right. I know you are… and I absolutely promise you that I'll not wear a purple bra… red maybe, but not purple.' Spencer gave a soft smile as he attempted to pull away from talking about Hotch. 'So when will we know about Sam?'

'Sam… my angel. They said a couple of hours. Where's my fucking coffee!' Floyd shouted down the corridor. 'Why are you bitches standing doing nothing? Get me a damned coffee before I start getting pissed off with you all.'

And so for a short while they sat in silence. That was until a nurse walked by the small room the three of them were asked to sit in. Floyd was up at a jump and chasing after her. Once out of the room Hotch turned to Spencer who was sipping on yet another coffee.

'He seems worried.' Hotch said.

Spencer looked over at Hotch and nodded. 'Why wouldn't he be? He sees Sam as something he can graft onto his own self and become part of him, like some human shaped bauble. He doesn't want that if it's broken.'

'Are you sure that's all it is?'

'I'm sure. It's not just his appearance. Floyd sees Sam as a project. He wants people to look at it and marvel at what a wondrous creature he is.'

Hotch raised an eyebrow. 'There's more to it than that.' He informed Spencer.

Reid stood. He was getting annoyed with Hotch now. He didn't want him here getting in the way. He wanted him to go back to his job and leave him and his friends alone. He wanted Hotch to stop accusing Floyd of doing things he hadn't done. He wanted him to just leave, but Hotch looked settled in at least for now. 'It's complicated.' Spencer muttered. That was where the conversation stopped as Floyd came walking back into the room.

'Out of surgery. They're cleaning him up. He's fine.' He didn't look convinced though. 'At least they say he's fine. My idea of fine and theirs might be a mile apart. We shall have to see. They'll call me.' He pointed at Hotch. 'Me… it's me they will call not you. You will have to wait. Don't know what the hell you're doing here anyway. I just wanted you to know that Sam was with us and not the Teevy's and you show up here probably giving out inane advise to Spencer who is one hell of a lot more understanding of any fucking thing than you'll ever be, because Hotch, you're not in the fucking book, or at least as Grand Editor in Chief, I'm going to get you fucking deleted. Metaphorically speaking obviously.'

o-o-o

'He will look pretty bad at first. Don't be too alarmed.'

That had been what the doctor had said to Floyd just before he went into the room.

It wasn't actually alarm that Floyd felt when he looked at Sam, it was more of a… Well there's no fixing that mess sort of a feeling. He walked to the bottom of Sam's bed and checked on the notes clipped on there. He had to be very sure that this was the same Sam he'd been talking to not so long ago; this person who seemed to have the same name as his Sam, looked more grotesque now than before they took the contraption off his face.

'The problem was that the brace had shifted position and not only caused the bones and teeth to misalign but it pulled away some of the plating and allowed for infection to set in. The swelling will go down. He's on a strong…'

'Morphine?' Floyd asked and the doctor nodded. 'Well that's a fucked up idea, but never mind. You know he has a liking for drugs?'

'He is going to be in a lot of pain. We've applied pressure bandages to his face.'

'Yeah… fine. Can I take him home now?'

The doctor raised both eyebrows. 'Home? That isn't possible. He was very dehydrated and is on a drip. We are also worried about his irregular heart beat. He was in distress a few times whilst in surgery. We need to monitor that for a while.'

'I was in distress when he was in surgery too! Stupid mother fucker… of course he was distressed. You've fucked up that beautiful face of his. You've turned him into a fucking monster. He'll never whore again.'

Those raised eyebrows again. 'Excuse me Mr Flanders but are you his parent?'

Floyd shook his head. 'No. But nor am I his pimp. I'm just saying you know? If he wants to make a living selling his arse on street corners and getting into strangers' cars to give them some pleasure in a parking lot, then he's going to have some problems paying his rent… no pun intended there good doctor. However if he wants to spend eternity with a mask on… wait! There's a whoring opportunity after all. I'll gimp him out in leathers. He'll love it…' Floyd leaned over Sam and poked him on the end of the nose. 'What do you think little cock sucker? Want to be my gimp?'

'Mr Flanders?' The doctor had a pale face with bright red roses flushed on each of his slightly sunken cheeks.

'Oh for the love of… of… some famous doctor… It was a joke.'

'Not a very amusing one.' The doc snapped.

'Well it's lucky I'm not opening up a one man show on The Strip then isn't it… you arsewipe. How long before you can let him out of here. He doesn't like hospitals. They pay havoc with his grammar.'

'His grammar?'

'Abso-fucking-lutely. Mine too would seem. Hurry and wake him. I want to take him to my secret hideout in the desert and slice patterns of ownership into my lover's back. Sam's not my lover by the way. Never will be if his face doesn't shrink back to what it should be. Oh and please don't tell Spence out there what I've got planned for him. It's a surprise you see.' Floyd smiled. 'Wake the slut up.'

'Sam… He needs to say resting for at least until this time tomorrow. Then we will reassess the situation and let you know what is going to happen next. There is still a problem that the bones are not repairing as quickly as we would like.'

Floyd nodded. 'This time tomorrow. That's OK. I can wait that long. Don't let him out of your fucking sight. Strap him down and ignore his dog impressions. He cries for sympathy and will blame anything on anyone. He's a liar, thief, and likes to get high. Don't believe him. Not even if he says he's in pain. He's just after shots of morphine… which was why I said about it… or did you say about it? But you look after him and I'll be back. I have twenty four hours to convince my lover that it's me he wants. Wish me luck. Not that I'll need it.' Another flash of a smile.

Hotch stood when Floyd entered the small waiting room again. Spencer remained seated. He wanted to know what mood Floyd was in before he said anything or got too close. The lights flickered and the coffee machine made an odd grumbling noise, but Floyd looked almost relaxed. He ignored Spencer for now and forced himself to look at the one man who Floyd detested almost as much as he loathed Derek Morgan.

'He is swollen but fine. Unless his heart gives out, but they'll sort that. So Agent Aaron Hotchner… you feel like staying here for a while and keeping your beady eye on Sam?'

Hotch gave the very slightest of nods. 'I thought you would stay.' He told Floyd in the way which was meant to make Floyd feel like he should stay.

'Nope. No need. He's asleep. He might make a fuss when he wakes up so really a familiar face might not be amiss, but it wont be mine. I've too much to do.' He now put a hand out towards Spencer. 'We're leaving. Worrying about Sam wont make him get better any quicker and time passes so much faster when you're having fun; you'll agree with that wont you Aaron?'

Again the smallest of nods. 'I'll wait with here.'

'I know you will. You wouldn't abandon poor Sam when he's in so much pain and distress. I on the other hand will. So have a nice evening. They do sandwiches and cookies somewhere I believe. You could take a stroll there and get some, but don't you leave him for too long. I'll be pissed with you if he wakes and you're off some where nibbling on tuna and cucumber sandwiches. I'll be back tomorrow. Don't you fucking even think about taking Sam someplace else. Understood?'

Hotch understood. He was sure that it wasn't going to be him who got hurt if he didn't. He could tell by the almost pleading look on Spencer's face. 'I'll not be going anywhere. As you said, a familiar face.'

'A shame it's such a fucking ugly one, but there you go. Be careful. Don't scare him into heart failure and if I smell that you've touched him, Hotchner, well I think then there's going to be a few fireworks.' As Floyd said the last word the lights in the little room flickered and dimmed. 'Sorry about the lights. I'm having a bit of a problem controlling my… my inner wondrousness.' And as Spencer was still not within reach, Floyd snapped his fingers at him. 'Here, now.'

Spencer felt an odd static shock as his fingers met Floyd's. Instinctively he pulled his hand back again and looked down at his hand. Something was going very wrong here and it seemed to be picking up pace faster than Spencer could keep track of. For now though at least Floyd didn't seem to mind that Spencer hadn't taken his hand. Floyd turned again to Hotch and asked, in a quite polite way that he should sit for a moment. Hotch did as he'd been asked but was more than ready to fight this filth off him if need be. Spencer then watched in horror as Floyd knelt down at Hotch's feet and placed his hands on Hotch's knees.

'Now you listen up and you listen carefully.' Floyd started. 'There are forces in play here. Things I don't have control over and before things settle down and get better again they're going to get one hell of a lot worse. I didn't get Spencer to call you because I was thinking of you. I got him to call you because I was thinking of me. Sam, you see is mine, but wandering in the shadows are monsters, Hotch. Sam knows. Spencer knows. I know. You will one day face the truth and admit it too, but I really don't think you're quite ready. What I'm trying to say here Hotch, is that I trust you with Sam. I trust that you will keep him safe. Don't let anyone in to see him. Keep a close eye on hospital staff. If someone if going to try to get Sam, now would be a good time. Protect him with your life Hotchner. Keep Sam safe from those shadows.'

Hotch's face remained expressionless but he gave a tiny nod of the head. 'If it's that important and if the danger is that deep, then wouldn't it be wiser for you to stay?'

Floyd dug fingernails into Hotch's knees hard enough that he'd have bruises there for a couple of weeks. 'I cant stay here doing nothing. I have to check out things. There's no point in sitting guarding a precious diamond if all around you the thieves are sneaking in. You have to send out scouts and check the borders. You get? I know you Hotchner. I know you better than you'd like me to, but for now I'm putting that feeling of starch behind me and trusting that you'll make sure that when I return tomorrow that Sam will still be alive and still be in that hospital bed. I know you have unwanted and unwarranted feelings for Sam. I know. I know it's confusing… but they're there. Keep my boy safe and I might even let you have Spencer for a night.' Now Floyd took his hands off Hotchner and put a hand out for Spencer. 'Take my hand Spence. We need to leave.'

o-o-o

Spencer drove the car this time. He didn't trust Floyd's driving and he didn't trust that he wouldn't short out the circuits either. Spencer had begun to drive back to the motel, but was told that he needed to go to his apartment and pick up some clothes, maybe have a shower, something to eat… Coffee which wouldn't taste like cats piss, so that's where they went. Spencer rattled the wreck of the car into the underground parking and then they went in odd silence up to his apartment. It didn't feel as though he'd been there for years and he wasn't sure if it was the joy of bringing Floyd to his own space again or if it was that odd feeling he got whenever he touched Floyd which was making the hair stand up on his arms.

It was Floyd who reset the alarm once they were in. It was Floyd who checked the locks on the windows whilst Spencer put coffee on. It was Floyd who opened up the closet and had a look inside.

And it was Floyd who pushed Spencer up against the wall in the hallway and pushed his hip hard against Spencer.

'I've something…' Floyd started to say as he licked and nibbled Spencer's neck, '… to show you.'

'Hmm.' Was all Spencer could say.

'Oh not that.' Floyd said as fingers began to undo Spencer's shirt buttons. 'Something else and I'm going to show you this on the strict understanding that you'll never ever say anything to Sam about it.' Fingers were now down at Spencer's belt. 'But I'm going to have to take my shirt off to show you.'

This caused a raising of an eyebrow for Spencer. 'Floyd if there is something going on…'

'Nothing, but if Sam wished to believe that, then maybe all the better. Easier to keep the little bastard in line if he's scared of me. That's how it works. At least that's how it should work.' Floyd then moved back and unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt. 'Now… I'm going to show you what is on my back. Laugh if you want but if you do there will be serious repercussions.'

'You don't have to. Floyd really…'

'You risked trying to touch me when you thought I'd not know because your curiosity was so immense, so don't tell me that I don't need to show you, because I feel I do. Once you've seen, you will understand some of what will happen later. I hope that you will be more understanding of the pain you will have to suffer because of it. Don't look so alarmed Spence. It wont hurt for long and I don't have it in mind to kill you. I just… Well have a look.'

Floyd turned around and showed Spencer his back. At first Reid wasn't sure exactly what it was he was looking at. On one of Floyd's shoulder blades was what appeared to be a very old tattoo. Yet it couldn't be that old as he'd have noticed it before. 'Property of…' He didn't finish what he was saying though. Floyd turned around again and took both of Spencer's hands.

'Prison tat. Not very well done but fading fast. My body rejects skin art. A shame. But maybe not a shame in this case. Give it another year and it will be completely gone. No I didn't know they'd done it. No I don't know how they did it without my knowledge. The person in question is now dead and so I am free. I don't ever become a bondsman to someone else. Never. But… you babes are different.'

Spencer slowly shook his head. 'Oh no. Oh no Floyd. You can beat me and burn me and batter me half to death, but you're not going to give me a tattoo. NO!'

Floyd nodded. 'Well I thought the same. I agree. They wouldn't suit you. Promise. No tattoos.'

But the words Floyd had said weren't sitting well for Spencer. 'You said what was on your back would cause me pain.' He muttered.

'Well not exactly, but what is on my back gave me an idea. Thing is that I didn't want this conversation when Sam was around. He'd object about something somehow and I'm too fired up inside to cope with his whining right now. Yet I do have to keep both of you within my sight. However Sam being laid out for a while has given me this chance. Hotchner wont hurt him. He would actually protect Sam with his life. I know he will. They have a bond of some kind. Not one I introduced, but I think maybe that Hotchner is the only person who has shown Sam any form of emotional… How can I say this… If Hotch had tits, Sam would suckle them. He wants to feel nurtured. He gets that from him. So having Hotch there will satisfy Sam and keep him safe for a while and give me the chance to show you my complete lack of nubs or wings… and the reason you're going to pretty much hate me for a while; not yet though. Later.'

'Suckle?' Spencer for a moment looked somewhat disgusted.

'I caught him once with a dog. He's very insecure.'

'A dog? What? Doing what with a dog?' Images, images… too many disgusting images.

'Suckling.'

'Oh god.' Spencer moaned. 'I think I'm going to be sick.'

'It's his nature Spencer. Don't be hard on him. Considering you're the one who killed him you're being a bit… how can I put this… insensitive? Now I want you to forget all about Sam. It's just the two of us. Nothing to interfere with anything. I've missed our times together just us.'

Spencer wanted to remind Floyd that it was him who brought Sam into the mix and he'd be more than happy if Sam was removed from it again, but hands over his chest and other sensitive places stopped him from saying anything… stopped him from thinking much for a while too. Spencer's mind was too full of other things even to notice that Floyd still had his boots on as he tipped Spencer onto his front on the bed.

Somewhere a dog started to bark.

A baby probably cried too.

Spencer wouldn't have known though because he was too busy screaming… 'Floyd! Floyd stop! Whatever that is you're doing you have to stop!' But Floyd didn't stop. For Spencer it might have felt like he was being screwed by a highly charged cattle prod… For Floyd it was a huge release of something which had been building up inside of him for a while now.

The bulb in the socket above their heads shattered, sending tiny bits of glass all over them and the bed. Spencer didn't notice that either. There were other popping crashing noises from the other small rooms in the apartment. Spencer's howls of surprise and pain weakened to moans and small yelps… Floyd yelled out in delight as Spencer continued to wriggle and struggle to get out from under what was causing so much pain.

There was blood.

Floyd could smell blood and ozone and sweat and pain and he could feel a monstrous urge to tear into Spencer until the world exploded around his ears and Spencer stopped breathing. He didn't though. Even though things carried on popping and cracking and pots fell off shelves and pictures crashed to the floor from the walls, and books flew off bookshelves… Floyd stopped and rolled off Spencer onto the bed next to him.

Reid lay with his face in the pillows breathing in and out slowly. He was covered in smears of blood, scratches, and what looked like crescent shaped burn marks where Floyd had dug in his fingernails a bit too hard – or with too much energy.

'Spence?' Floyd moved Reid's head so that he could see his face.

Spencer glared back at Floyd with a tear stained face and blood under his nose. 'F…' He replied.

'Fuck… that was good!'

'You killed me.' Spencer whispered in reply. 'What on earth?'

'You'll be fine. Just might feel a bit hyper for a while.' Floyd kissed the end of Spencer's nose.

'Hyper? Can the dead be hyper? What happened?'

'Just relax. Hopefully it wont be like that every time. I should have wanked off first maybe? Next time remind me. You rest there. I'll get you coffee and you just stay here. Need to clean up.'

'Glass.' Spencer muttered.

'Wont kill you. Just tiny bits of glass sweetness. Lay still and they wont dig in.'

'Was that the pain you were going to give me? Is this what you warned me about?'

Floyd pushed back off the bed and adjusted his jeans. 'No babes. That was a warm up. Get used to it. I think I might be growing nubs after all.' He let out a howl of a laugh and walked from the bedroom crunching glass under his boots.

Spencer did as Floyd suggested and didn't move. Actually he didn't think he could move even had he wanted to. During his time spent with Floyd over the years he'd had some odd things done to him, but never something like that. His skin was tingling and he was sure he could hear the hairs on his arms crackling with static. His eyes hurt and now his nose was bleeding again. If he'd been asked how he was feeling and what had happened he would have told whoever it was that he'd been raped by Robocop who had short circuited. But no one was going to ask. And if Floyd did ask Spencer would just say that he was feeling Great… and Thank You! Thank you for electrocuting me up the rear end. Reid closed his eyes and felt a fresh lot of wetness run down the side of his face. He didn't think that he was crying, not really… but to say that what had just happened was shocking was an understatement.

'Babes?'

Spencer opened his eyes again.

'You were asleep. Here.' He handed over a mug of coffee. 'It will make you feel better.'

'Feel great.' Spencer muttered.

'Well I know you better than that. And people who feel great don't sob and cry in their sleep. Was I too much for you babes?'

Spencer reached out for the mug but was careful not to let his slightly shaking fingers touch Floyd's. 'Loaded question.' Spencer answered him. 'You're always too much for me.'

There was a nod from Floyd, an agreement. 'Tomorrow I'm going to get Sam. We will drive out to that place in the desert. Base up there for a while. I think it will be safer. Get up off the bed when you've drunk that and be careful of the glass. I've cleared up everywhere else. Go have a shower and find something comfortable to wear. I've left a tube of ointment in the wash basin. It will stop the bleeding.' Floyd prodded one of Spencer's exposed buttocks. 'I have a theory; if you let me fuck you every morning and every evening…'

'I've never stopped you.' Spencer cut in. 'But I do need you to explain what you did. What happened?'

'That's why I need to go back to the bunker. You will be safe. I said that.'

'Safe from what?' Spencer rolled over and winced as bits dug into his lower back and upper legs.

'Safe from me of course. You are stupid sometimes. I'm going to leave you for ten minutes. I can trust you? I can leave you? I need pineapple jello.'

o-o-o

As Spencer carefully showered, Floyd sat on the bathroom floor and ate his jello. He had asked if Spencer wanted to share the shower but he turned down the offer. Not because he didn't think Floyd needed to be clean, but partly because it seemed Floyd intended to get in the shower fully clothed and partly because Spencer wanted to wash properly. Having Floyd sitting there watching and eating jello out of a plastic pot with this fingers didn't help him to relax. Floyd seemed to understand the need to wash though and so he sat and watched and licked at his fingers and wondered if Aaron had ever been quite this entertained when Spencer showered. Floyd felt calm and to him life felt as though all the pieces were finally coming together. Spencer however felt as though the few pieces he knew about had just been blown out of the water. He wanted to ask Floyd more about what had happened when he'd gone back and asked for Sam's return. What had he asked for? What had they offered? What the hell was going on? Did Sam have a better idea than Floyd would like him to have? After Spencer had done a few contortions and applied medicated ointment to various places and then had slipped into a pair of red and blue striped PJ bottoms he thought it was time to talk, before Floyd pounced and frazzled his brain completely. Spencer chose a book to read and sat in his chair. Floyd lay on the rug propped up on his elbows and grinned. It was an unsettling grin. A very toothy grin.

'So…' Spencer started.

'Yes.' Floyd replied. 'The thing is that I'm not sure what the fuck is going on.' Spencer thought that was an outright fabrication but let Floyd carry on. 'It seems that when I get overly emotional or stressed things start to explode. Lots of things. Big things as well as things attached to me. Which I'd never call small or undersized ever but not quite as large as a fucking house. Now that's not something I expected. I felt it build up and I have to admit that it was rather enjoyable. I felt like some kind of super hero with bolts of power coming out of my fingertips. Now as to why this is happening I have no idea.'

Spencer said nothing but fiddled with the pages of Huckleberry Finn which was resting on his knees.

'You don't believe me.' Floyd stated.

'I don't believe you. You read my mind. Tell me what the importance of the bunker is? What is it there for and why do we need to go there to be safe from you? What do you think is going to happen if we don't?'

Floyd shook his head. 'Now's not the time to discuss that. I want Sam here too. At the bunker, as you call it. It's not actually that, but yes… there. I will try to explain it then.'

More lies. They flowed off Floyd like butter from a hot knife. There was no point in talking about it. He was going to lie continuously for some reason and maybe it was because Floyd had no idea what was going on and maybe he was sheltering Spencer from something. 'Are you dying?' He finally asked.

Floyd blinked.

'Is it something like that?'

This time no response.

'Can I help you?'

'No babes you cant help me, except by trying to ignore Sam's bitching and attempting to get along with him. For me.'

'So you're dying?'

'If something was to happen to me Spencer, you need to remember that Sam is me too. You'll have to…'

Spencer stood. The book thudded to the floor and was kicked roughly out of the way as Spencer took a step towards Floyd. 'NO! Whatever it is you're saying… it's no. A flat refusal. I'll help you. I'll do anything you want, but I'll never ever replace you.'

'Then you're going to come to the bunker with me and you will do as I ask? Even if it sounds insane? Even if you think I'm wrong?'

'If this involves Sam… then sorry Floyd, no. If it involves the two of us then…'

'For me? To keep me from exploding in a huge fiery fourth of july explosion? I'll go out looking pretty, but it'll stink and you'll be left with the other me who will, I can assure you, blame you for everything from The Great Plague to the killing of the Aztec Gods. He will demand that you make amends to him for allowing me to devolve into a wondrous shower of lights.'

'I know what you are suggesting. It will never happen.'

'Just fuck him for the love of the gods! Fuck the boy and win him over. It's all you have to do! He'll be your dog forever! You'll have control of a minor demon.'

'NO!' Spencer kicked out at one of Floyd's elbows. It was like kicking a brick wall. Floyd didn't even flinch.

'He will come crawling after you. Drooling and begging to be suckled. It would be much easier just to flip him over and have him.'

'You are not listening to me! He's a boy! He's a whore! He's not you!'

'So you'll let me do what I need to do to stop this happening? You'll do something you don't want to save me?'

'As long as it doesn't involve Sam…'

'Which it doesn't. Promise. Hand on heart. But if you change your mind, remember what I've said. Remember what will be left. You and Sam. That's it. Nothing else. The two of you locked for an eternity in my place under the desert. So when I ask you to do something for me, you will do it without question. You will do it because I have asked you to. You wont try to make excuses and you'll not scream or fight it.'

Spencer sat back down again with a flop. 'You're going to kill me? Make some kind of sacrifice? Or will it be someone else? Sam?'

'No… no one will die if you just do what I ask. No complaints. No going back on your word at a later date.'

Now Spencer nodded slightly. 'You will reveal all in the bunker, with Sam there?'

'Yes and no. It will be at the bunker and Sam will be there, but this is strictly between the pair of us. Like the tattoo on my back. Just us Spencer. Not a damned word to Sam.'

Another nod. A deep breath. 'So I need to do something to stop you exploding and being trapped. Something which wont involve death but will involve pain, and doesn't include Sam.'

Now Floyd nodded. 'You got it. So it's a deal?' It seemed that at least for now it was a deal. Floyd picked the book up, rolled onto his back and found the first page. 'Spencer? One more thing… I look OK when I have to wear my eyeglasses don't I?'

Strange question. Floyd didn't wear them often, but when he did Spencer had never commented one way or the other. Very much like when he put his on. 'You look great in them. Why? Do you want me to get them for you?' He wondered suddenly if Floyd was having trouble reading the words printed on the page.

'No. I'm fine, babes. I was thinking of Sam. He needs glasses. He's lost sight in one eye and the other is hinky. He'll look OK wont he?'

Spencer closed his eyes for a moment and tried to imagine the sort of glasses Sam would have chosen. His mind locked on large pink butterfly shaped things. 'He'll look just great. And maybe he'll be less miserable if he can see better.'

'I love him Spencer. I'm not in love with him, but I love him like I'd love a dog. You get me?'

Spencer did. He got him totally and completely. 'Are you going to read to me or just lay there playing with yourself and thinking of Sam?' There was no laughter or amusement in Spencer's voice.