Chapter 18

Whiskey

A/N: SLASH ALERT SLASH ALERT SLASH ALERT…..BUT ONLY A little

I don't move. I stand knowing that he is just behind me…and he's not moving either. I don't want to be watched. Not this time I want to be held…I want to feel safe. I think I might be swaying slightly – I am desperate for a drink or something…and I feel so sick and ill. I just stand at the entrance to the shower and put a hand out and place it on the wall…I am hoping it will stop me from falling…and keeping my eyes shut helps as well.

I can feel the horrible throbbing in my leg and shoulder….and the wheezing breaths I am taking and suddenly there are hands on my shoulder.

"Spencer."

He doesn't say more…and he doesn't really need to…I start to walk forward and my heart is pounding in my chest and I don't know if this is the right thing to be doing…but it somehow just feels like a natural progression from the game we used to play.

The warm water is wonderful and the hands stay just where they are on my shoulders and he keeps back from me….his body not in contact with mine. I wait…I wait for a short while feeling the hands on my shoulders gripping so tightly and then I take a step back…big enough to bring my back in contact with his front….and I reach up and take one of his hands from my shoulder and pull it around so it is resting on my tummy and I hear the sigh and I feel him moving in tighter to me.

Tipping my head back I feel his other hand leave my shoulder and touch gently the side of my neck.

………………….and it dawns on me…………….like that…in a flash………..I have done this before. Lots of times before…..with lots of different people and this is the first time I haven't had Floyd watching me. I don't know if it is a new freedom or a sudden loss…I really don't know but I like it. I like it a lot.

I'm not sure if he wants me to take the lead…I don't know…so I just stay as I am and feel his mouth on the side of my neck and it sends tingles through my body and shudders down my spine. I want him.

I need him so badly but is he just a replacement…a substitute for something I've lost….something second best…….

…………….he's pushing me forward…a hand again on my shoulder he is pushing me against the wall…..and Hotch has done this before…this isn't the act of a first time lover. He is biting the back of my neck and running a set of fingers over my skin and gently oh so very gently he is touching…..

One hand playing with me in a gentle rhythm…and the other is running down my back and across my buttocks and he is preparing me…..in a familiar way….a way I have felt before.

"Hands on the wall."

He tells me, and so I move them from where they were and place them at shoulder level on the bathroom wall…

…………..He plays with me….he touches and the teases me….he takes me to the edge then pulls me back again……and I am trying to hold onto the slippery bathroom tiles because I think I am going to just slide to the floor in a heap of shuddering lust.

I need him!

I push back asking for him….but he just plays….with his hands….moving and touching and licking and biting and just….just breathing on me….

And all those times in the locker room I wondered….I wondered what it would feel like if he ever did this….if he breathed across my wet skin…what would that feel like? Now I know…Now I am glad I waited…that he waited for now.

I've had my eyes closed and now I open them and look down….and for a second…maybe two I don't understand what I am seeing….the water is pink…and in panic I move my hands off the wall and try to work out where the blood is coming from…..

"Put your hands back." He hisses it into my ear and I think I am going to faint….I don't think I can take this much longer

"I'm bleeding." I breathe back….

"You have a nose bleed….put your hands back." So I put them back again and lick my lips.

"It doesn't bother you….my blood."

And he bites my neck…. "It bothers me…it bothers me a lot Spencer….but maybe that is why I am finding this such a turn on. Now be quiet."

So I don't say more….not words….because now he is ready to finish and I feel him sliding over my skin and I feel him take me….as I push hard back and he moves his hand in the same rhythm and I think I might die….I think my heart might not cope with the strain of this.

When he steps back from me I let myself slide to the shower tray and curl up….I am shaking…and I can't stop. I am coughing and shaking and I feel sick and sated and hungry all at the same time.

A hand rests on the top of my head and then it is gone…Hotch has gone….but the water is still running and I am still coughing and sometimes a small spray of blood expels from my mouth….so I stay where I am and let the warm water sooth my back and I close my eyes. Even if I wanted to move I wouldn't be able to.

-o-o-o-

I don't have a clue where I am.

……….. but it's night…….the puddles are reflecting the neons from down the road and I am curled up by the bins with an empty bottle in my hand….

I was hoping I wouldn't wake up.

I really didn't feel like it.

All that time….all that damned time they were electrocuting me…and hacking at my mind….and pulling me apart…..all that time the only thing I craved for and wanted was gone. I should have given up…I should go back…I need to go back…

Go back and tell them everything…tell them all…they will give the lethal injection and I will metabolise it….they will electrocute me via old Sparky and I will grin and say 'thanks for the hard on….now what?'

I really do need to find his grave…no…I need to check on my information first….tomorrow….I will call him…I will call him on his cell and at work…they will tell me…then I will know…I will work out what to do next.

Walking – staggering down these streets now…I need a drink…I need some snort…I need to get my head in the right place and figure it all out…I keep getting weird flashes of someone else…other people but I don't have names for them. Another bloke…tall and not as skinny and wavy blondish hair…but I haven't got a name for him…but it's a good feeling I get with his face….and another…dark skinned…dark and – and I don't know why I don't like him…but it's got something to do with Spencer…I know it has…so I need to figure out who these people are….

A bar…set on the corner of the street so that the main entry doors are at an angle….there is leaded glass of different colours and I can smell the alcohol wafting under the door…I check my – sorry I check – Mr Towner's ever depleting supply of money and pull some out and put it in a different pocket…I don't want someone to see the wallet you understand? They might know him…ask questions and the I would have to kill every sonofabitch in the place.

Pushing open the doors I walk to the bar and sit. The barman walks over and just looks at me….the says. "Get out…I'm not serving you."

Ah shit…not serving me? "Why the hell not?"

"Cos you're drunk…get out."

"I'm fine…I'm just fine…whiskey…double." And I pull the money out of my pocket and place it on the sticky counter….no man will turn someone away when they have a wad of cash available.

So he sighs and shakes his head and takes a note and the pours drink into a glass. "Ice…soda…anything?"

I shake my head in reply and look at the drink on the bar. I can smell it…and it smells good…and something is telling me to chug it back and be happy with it…but I need more.

"I need……..I want…….anyone selling?"

"Drink up and get out. I don't care if you do have a roll of cash in your pocket…I don't want to have to call security."

So I nod and I reach over for the late edition newspaper on the counter and turn it over so I can see the headlines…

"Fuck."

The barkeep looks at me…. "Something wrong?"

But I am looking at shot of me from a security camera…back in the men's room. "Do not approach? Hell no!" and I want to laugh…but I just run my finger over the picture of me and look up at the barman. "Nothing's wrong…no one is fucking safe these days?" And the guy shakes his head sadly and looks at the paper.

"He had it coming. Well known in the area he was…patrolling the men's room…disease ridden and bitter about it."

I run my finger over the picture again… "Him?" I know it's not him…but I need him to confirm that for me….I want him to say 'hell yes him' and then I will know he is a lying mother…but he doesn't….

"No…not him…the guy killed. Another one?"

And I nod and watch the drink being poured into my glass.

I'm not having a good time of it you know…Firstly the priests blood…well that was out of order…I shouldn't have done that…I can still feeling bubbling in my arteries. Then I go and eat someone with some nasty STD and I should have known…Metabolising drugs is ok….getting rid of disease is fine….I have more of a problem with alcohol for some reason….and I didn't know that bloke was wrong…I let him screw me…then I killed and ate him…That's a helluva lot of metabolising I need to do and I don't think I can do it with the booze in me…I cant fucking think what I'm doing.

I pass another note over and he takes it and sticks it behind the bar…I don't get change…and I don't even see what number was written on the note, but I think I need to go…I had wanted to stay here for the rest of the day…or the night…whatever it is…I dunno anymore…night…I think it was dark…

"How much for a bottle?"

but he shakes his head…. "You've had more than enough buddy…I don't want to be the one responsible for your falling down dead."

And so I attempt to get up and move and find out that my legs don't work anymore…so with a sigh... "Just keep topping me up then." And I stay where I am. Trying to work out how to stop and at the same time not wanting to…but knowing that I have to. I can't risk disease…I can't risk making a mistake like that.

"I will go there."

The barkeep looks at me. "Go where?"

"To where he worked….tomorrow…I'll go there and ask."

And he tops me up again and smiles… "Yes mister…you do that." And he disappears in a foggy blur down the bar.

-o-o-o-

Hotch called in sick…but it's only paper work…more paper work than I ever thought possible. There is an escaped serial killer somewhere on our streets which makes me feel far less than happy about being at home on my own tonight…This whole incident with whoever that UnSub was has spooked me more than I would have thought possible…and my desk phone is ringing.

"Prentiss." I am feeling snappy and fed up. I want a sicky too. I want to spend my day wallowing and feeling sorry for myself. "Where? Now?" I look around to see if Morgan is available but he is off somewhere talking to Rossi about something or other…I don't know…and don't care….but someone is downstairs asking to see Reid, and that might be a problem. "I'll be right down…Did he give a name?" OK…I'll be down.

And I check my side arm and look again to see if Morgan is still busy and he is…so I go to the elevator and make my way slowly down to the ground floor. I sigh… don't know what to tell this stranger…I could have done with a bit more time….but I don't have it…I go over in my head what I will say to him.

As the doors whoosh open I am met by security who indicate one of the small side rooms down here. "I stuck him in room two…you want me to come with you?"

I nod…and walk over to the small room and open the door.

It stinks…What the hell? This person has obviously been sleeping rough…I can smell the sweet odour of vomit and whiskey…and the underlying stench of man sweat. "Can I help you?" I say to him…and he doesn't stand he turns and looks at me….

His hair is a nasty oily lump on his head …it is hacked at different lengths and his face is vile and filthy…yet somehow nice.

"I'm a friend of Reid's."

And the statement is so out there and wrong that I want to laugh.

"Did you have something you wanted to say?" I'm not giving this creature…however beguiling he might be any information on Reid.

"I just wanted to know where he is."

The voice is cracked and sad…and suddenly the smell doesn't matter so much.

"He's not here anymore…I'm sorry." And though he was an interesting part of the team as far as dictionaries go…I'm not sorry.

"I need to say goodbye…I need to know where he is."

"I'm sorry…I'm not at liberty to divulge that sort of information." And I watch as he rests his head on the table. "Can I have your name please….for the record?" But he just looks at me and stands…

"Not really necessary is it…I'm not at liberty to divulge that sort of information miss. Have a nice day." And I watch as he turns to leave and I wonder if this is Floyd…and if it is why he doesn't just go home…I can't believe that Spencer would live with a foul creature like this.

"Floyd? Are you Floyd?" I ask…and he turns slowly and looks at me. "Spencer mentioned you." And he just nods and leaves. "Wait…a contact number? An address….where are you staying?" but he ignores me and leaves. As far as I know he has done nothing wrong….just another junky drunk from the streets.

I look over at the guy on security. "I need the tapes and I need them now and if he ever returns I need to know immediately." He nods and moves off and I can smell a strange musky smell in the room now...I take in a deep breath and look out where the guy is staggering out to the street.

Oh I don't know why I did it…I really don't… but there was something about him. I take the security tape and follow out into the street. He hasn't got far…I can see him leaning on the wall bent forward throwing up into the gutter. I place a hand on his shoulder. "Floyd?" and he turns slowly and looks at me. "If there is anything I can do? Do you have money?"

He gives me an odd smile. "Thanks babes…I have money. I just needed to see Spencer…you know." And I nod and look at the ground and I wish I could take him home and shower him…personally shower him…and…

Inappropriate thoughts…I back off. "Take care." And I find I am giving him my card. "Call me OK?" and he looks at it and frowns and looks up at me…

"I don't feel too good. Food poisoning I think…thanks erm…Agent Emily Prentiss." And I watch as he turns and carries on his stagger until he is lost in the crowd.

-o-o-o-

I hear him leave the bathroom and I hear him pad across the hallway to the kitchen…I get up and walk to the door and stand looking at him... "Spencer." But he just pours a coffee and adds lots of sugar.

"I'm tired."

He doesn't look at me. I don't know….maybe this is screwed up…maybe I calculated it wrong… but I don't think so. "The guest room is here." So I show him the room…small and blue and comfortable…a double bed in the middle and yellow drapes which I pull shut for him. I turn back the bedding and smile. "If you need me……" And he looks and does one of his nervous little smiles and then looks away and places his mug on the coaster on top of the stripped pine bed side table.

"Sleep well." I say and I leave and close the door and stand there to the side…so he cant see my shadow and I lean on the wall and I don't know how long I have been standing there for…it seems like an eternity…there is so much I want to ask him…and need to know…

It starts off as a mumble…then a yelp…then a scream…I am in that room faster than you can believe….he is there on his back on the bed his arms flailing at unseen monsters and tears running from his eyes.

"Spencer." I talk softly to him as I sit on the bed and my hands carefully take his. "It's ok…its Hotch…" And his screams turn to scared whimpers as he pulls he hands away from mind and rolls onto his side with his back to me.

It's nothing….

It's just comforting a distressed comrade.

It's the last time though…I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know I am taking advantage of him…even if this might be what he wants…it's not what I want…I want this…god I want this…but I want him in his right mind…I need to know that this is really what he wants…and isn't the leftovers of some drunken drugged night on the town….

So I lay next to him and wrap my arms around him and bury my head into his soft hair and I am his protector. I will not let whoever is hurting him to continue. I have lost Haley…I will be damned if I will lose Spencer too.

-o-o-o-

I feel so ill…

I feel so bloody empty and ill….

So I stand on the bridge and look down at the traffic below me and hold onto the rail and pull myself up so I am standing on the narrow rail. One step forward and it's over. Road kill…One step back and I can try to re-asses this situation…There is a dead jogger laying out in the park somewhere…her heart ripped from her chest…I thought it would make me feel better…but it doesn't. It makes it feel all the more pointless.

So what do I do….time it so I land in front of one of those mile long trucks…or step back and go and get pissed out of my brains?