Chapter 11

Chemical

They are talking about me again….

I can hear them but I'm not making a lot of sense out of it…

…………..My head………..feels like I've been licking the live rail on the rail tracks….

Again

But I don't think I have because I would remember that….

"No records."

But I don't know what they mean by that.

"Doesn't exist."

And I do exist so they aren't talking about me….I wonder if I have been sleeping, but I think not. I think I would have dreams….I might remember things.

"Franks."

……………..I don't want to respond to that name. I don't think it's mine, but I don't know what it is so I will leave it be for now.

"They wont take him. No one wants this responsibility."

I wish I knew what they were talking about…I might be able to help them…but they aren't talking to me…they are talking about me.

"Bastards." I manage to mutter that and I can spit…but that's about it….

I can see them all looking at me.

"You are awake?" And a question finally directed at me.

"I feel like shit. What did you do to me?" My throat hurts.

"You are undergoing intensive therapy. We are trying to help you." The owner of the voice steps closer. "We would like your permission to try something."

"My sexual energy is running high right now…when did I last have a fuck or blow?"

They don't answer my question…which I thought was a pretty darn good one. I don't know….

"And I want a smoke."

"We might be able to arrange that for you if you listen to me for a while and answer my questions as best you can."

"What…what do you want to know…because I think you might know more than I do anyway….you screwed with my head…I know you did."

The guy steps forward. "We need your permission to perform surgery." I can see he looks a bit worried……… "We hope it will help you with your problem."

But I don't have a damned problem….they are the ones with the problem. "What problem?" Stupid arses.

"Your memory….you inability to stay calm….your sexual desires….we can help you….you will be able to live a more normal life."

"You want to hack around in side my skull so I wont want to fuck?" I don't know if I am more horrified or amused. "You think that will make me normal? What do you class as normal?"

He nods at me… condescending prick. "You have a choice. You can spend the rest of your life locked in a six by six room and never have human contact again. You will be castrated and we will remove your teeth…Or you can volunteer surgery and hope it allows you to at least be able to be amongst other people occasionally. Either way Franks…the courts have decided that you are dangerous and incurable."

"The courts? How long have I been here?"

He shakes his head…"We really do need an answer Franks – by tomorrow." He turns to the row of people behind him. "Give him a blast of what the rest of his miserable life will be like if he doesn't agree."

Against the fucking law…against the human rights shit…they can't do this….but they do…and they throw the switch anyway….and this time they keep me awake for every sodding blinding minute…and I can hear blood vessels popping with the strain…and I am spitting and drooling and thinking… Bastards …. I should be remembering something…and can't!

-o-o-o-

I am sitting in the hospital.

Again.

I spend too much time in hospitals.

Emily is with me. I asked her to join me. I need to talk things over with her. I need to know exactly what happened. It's a bit of a blur to me. I need to tell her what I found out. I need to tell her that the bloods are back…I need to give her the results. I feel sick….not because of the pain meds I am on. Not because I have constant visions in my head of Reid struggling to stay alive…that is something I will have to learn to live with. They pain will pass…my flesh will heal…but my heart and my spirit won't.

We made sure that not one of our injured was alone when they awoke. Morgan had Garcia with him…I was with Dave….Emily was with Reid. I wanted to be with him…I needed to be, but I couldn't. I couldn't look at that face…that thin pale...sick face. There were too many questions I needed to ask him…and I didn't want to know the answers.

"Prentiss. Sit…please sit." I am tired of watching her pace the room….She knows I have something to say. She must have known from the time I told her not to touch Reid. Not to get blood on her…she must have guessed something.

She is dressed sharp today. I don't know if there is a special occasion or if she just fancied dressing up…but she is in a business suit…and she's had her hair trimmed back again…No makeup…but tinted glasses sit on her nose. To cover the signs of crying…we have all done that.

"I know." She says…before I have the chance to say anything. "Reid is HIV positive."

But I shake my head. "No…no he's not."

And she looks confused.

"It was the UnSub."

And her eyes drop and she looks at the table.

"I assumed….I thought it was Reid."

And I shake my head. "Thank god no."

"Then why the rage against him…why the game…why did he do that to Spencer?"

"I'm hoping it will be something he will be able to answer, when he is ready. Emily…" I look at her directly in her shades. "You need to go and have a blood test. The chances are very low. Very. But you still need to be tested." She nods at me and pulls the glasses off her face and rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands.

"Hotch…" I can see frown lines between her eyes now. "Who alerted the authorities that something was wrong? He had killed everyone except us….who called it in?"

But I don't know…it was anonymous as far as I could tell. Someone reported that Reid was in danger…I don't' know who it was. Garcia has tried to track it….but we come up blank. "We are still working on that one."

I wonder…I think…we should check out Reid's apartment. He will be in hospital for a while yet. We need to go and make sure all is OK.

……………..and so the pair of us are standing outside his apartment door. I have a spare key. We all do…to each other's places, but I've never used Reid's. I am slightly surprised that it opens so easily. It hadn't been double locked and the alarm is not set. He must have just left and let the door close behind him.

I have been here before. A while ago…..but I don't think Emily has ever been here. It smells funny. Which in a sad but good way I am happy about. No one has been here. We pull out our flashlights and slowly after closing the door behind us walk around his apartment.

There is something off about it and I can't quite put my finger on it.

…we walk into the kitchen and look around…mugs in the sink not washed…three mugs. A little cartoon drawing and a note from someone on the side with a thin layer of dust over it – we pull on gloves but

still we don't touch anything.

Spencer's privacy is being horribly invaded here but I need to know who that UnSub was and we still have no name and no way to identify him. That went when he broke his neck in the fall. His finger prints came back with no matches. He wasn't someone known to the police. Just someone known to Spencer. Therefore it must have been personal. Three mugs….Emily is bagging them….maybe he had been here. Maybe Reid just didn't wash his mugs up? The next port of call is his lounge…the throw from the back of his couch is screwed up and stuffed into the corner of the couch….there is nothing else out of place though….

"Do you think someone slept on the couch…the day before? The night before? He had a guest?" Emily is scanning the room with her flashlight and I scratch at an itch on my neck.

"I'm not sure. See if there is alcohol anywhere….he had been drinking."

I can see the surprised look on her face. "Spencer?"

And I shrug… "He was hung over Prentiss…he had been drinking somewhere for a reason. I need to know what that reason was."

We open cupboards and find nothing. Not even an old bottle of wine.

"Hotch."

I look over at Emily who is standing looking at something on the desk…she's looking puzzled.

"Reid doesn't drink or go clubbing, but he had been out drinking…right?" I nod at her and walk over to see what she has found. "He also doesn't smoke…but there are four butts in this ashtray….What would he even own an ashtray for?" I stand and frown at it too. Maybe this was part of the reason for the odd smell. They look like hand rolled smokes of some kind…dark…I pick one up and hold it to my nose and inhale.

"I think I would know if he had been smoking that." I say and drop the stinking thing back into the ashtray. "So he had a friend over who slept on the couch?"

And Prentiss shrugs. "I'll bag these….we at least can try to find out if it is Reid's DNA on them."

While she does that I go to the bedroom…it's on my way there that I notice his broken glasses on the small hall table and a mug smashed on the floor…with a dried up puddle of something around it. I crouch down to get a better look and then look behind me…something thrown from inside the bedroom door; I thought….so there would be my next port of call. Standing slowly I walk to the door and place my hand on the handle…

As I do so a hand rests on my arm. "Do you want me to check the bathroom?" and I nod….for some reason I don't want Prentiss in Reid's bedroom. I don't want to be in there. It's too private. He wouldn't want me doing this…I push the door inwards and shine my flashlight around the room…the bed is unmade…another thing I wouldn't have expected from Reid, and it is very messy. A lot of activity went on in that bed….the pillows are on the floor and the bottom sheet is pulled up and un-tucked at the bottom. A single white sheet is on the floor with the pillows. A big double bed. Shining the flashlight over the bed I can see scrape marks on the side of the head board….as though something is tied there…I frown…I don't want that image in my head now…so I make a note of getting his bedding bagged and I turn to the drawer in the side cabinet next to the bed.

It opens easily.

And really….I wish it had stuck….I wish it had been locked….I wish I had never seen it. More of what seemed to be unsmoked rollups…squares of silver foil….a lighter…cotton wool…a cork…some cigarette filters…a few tubes of lube and cord…rope…and other strange sex toys I don't even want to think about their usage….let alone Reid using them. My stomach is twisting and it hurts…it hurts so damned much. I close the drawer…that was private. No one else needs to know about that. I make note of the used ashtray on the top of the cupboard and then move away. The wardrobe is next…and again not really what I expected. Reid's shirts…obviously his hang on the left…on the right…a totally different type of clothing hangs…I doubt it would fit Spencer if he wanted to wear it. I pull out a shirt and look at the label in the back…designer clothing…and too small…definitely for Spencer.

Foot ware in the bottom is also mixed….some would fit Reid…but I had never seen him in things like this…and others would be too small….but all male….and again my stomach hitches uncomfortably. I don't like what I am seeing.

The chest of drawers reveals two different sets of clothing but again amongst what is obviously Reid's things are odd garments I would never imagine him wearing. I close them again and look up to see Prentiss standing with another couple of bags in her hand.

"He is co-habiting with another man." She says. And again I don't want to think about it… but she is right….that is the only answer. I swallow and look up at her…she has tooth brushes and razors. I sigh.

"It would seem that way. Bag the bedding." And I walk back to the lounge.

-o-o-o-

"It is called chemical castration." And they are holding needles and looking at me hoping I will confirm that I know what they are doing.

"Fuck you all!" and I am pissed with them.

"Agree to surgery and I will put this away."

Anything….any damned thing other that sticking that mother in my balls.

"OK…OK! Just keep that the hell away from me."

-o-o-o-

I am on some kind of medication to stop the pain…a deep horrible pain with every breath. It isn't working very well….but I'm getting better…slowly…the wounds will heal. They didn't think they would…they thought I was going to die…and I wanted to. I needed to….but now I am just confused.

I wonder what happened to Floyd…I am that forgettable….and replaceable…one error…a pretty big one…but it was a mistake….one wrong turn and I am forgotten. All those years….all those things…all for nothing…and again I wish I could curl up and die, but I'm not going to permit him to win this one….

I'm not going to let him destroy me….

………..so I keep on breathing….and I try to smile at my team mates….even at Morgan…..and I am going to be OK….I know I am.

………………so why do they all look so sad?